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22.
The cry of the mobile which was placed in a sloppy manner on the centre table, sliced through the thick and silent air of my room. No matter how much I tried to add personal touches to this room, it just never suited my style.
"Sapphire here."
"Have you gone ahead with the plan?" He inquired not bothering to seek after my well being. I wiped the moisture which had escaped from my eyes. This shouldn't have affected me so much but it did.
"Yes."
"Good, keep me updated on your progress." He hung up like I was one of the impersonal workers at the manor.
All seventeen years of my existence were and still are spent trying top get him to acknowledged me. Anyt
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That Girl In Glasses 26.
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