The boy I once loved became my tormentor. He summoned others to bully me, then used an indelible pen to carve the word 'whore' onto my shoulder with his own hands. I was forced to kneel, eating scraps from the ground, all to plead for the life of my beloved cat. He didn't wish for my death; he merely desired for me to endure a life of endless suffering. Yet, after all he put me through, why did he eventually shed tears?