HONEY I AM HOME

It was all an arranged marriage. We became a link between our two powerful families, much against our will.

I knew your heart didn’t belong to me, it belonged to that sweet girl living down the streets, owner of that flower shop that you used to spend afternoons there; appreciating the beauty of the flowers as well as the beauty of who handled them with great care with those delicate hands which you wished nothing more than hold tightly, or the simple brush of two fingers. 

Her name was Hammah, and I wished nothing more for you two to be happy together and elope on a scooter at night, going away from your past and toward your true happiness. 

And one night, I helped you escape from the family’s palace. Wishing you good luck and thanks for the company that you had offered me all these years. I gave you a tiny owl with an hate, saying “Take this, it’s dangerous outside” and I watched you leave, knowing that I had done the right thing.