All Chapters of Forget Me, Because I Will Do The Same: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

I blink in confusion, trying hard to think as a timid murmur slips out of me, “What…?” My body tenses up in fear before my zombie brain can process his question.I messed up.That’s what his face is telling me. But I couldn’t remember anything about a steak.“I should have known,” He lets out a tired sigh, shaking his head with disappointment. He takes off his neatly ironed suit, hangs it, and walks to the kitchen while rolling up his sleeves.Not another look at me.I follow him nervously into the kitchen: “I’m really sorry! I must have forgotten--”“Of course you did. How could I expect you to keep my dinner in that precious head of yours?” Damien snorts with a sarcastic tone, pulling out a bag of spaghetti with frozen tomato sauce, “Can I assume that you haven’t forgotten to eat yourself?”“Actually--”He ignores me and cooks only for himself.I want to answer, but he says that just to show that he doesn’t want to eat with me. He knows I wouldn’t have eaten without him.It’s not li

I guess I went too far.Damien stormed out after my outburst and never came back, at least not before I dozed off on the sofa.Though a cheap shot, what I said was true. Everyone at the hospital knows it. Everyone but Damien. He wouldn’t believe it even if I rub the evidence in his face. Still, I should have known better than to letting it slip out.I open my eyes at the sting of the sunlight right on my face. I let my heavy body sink into the crack of the sofa, wishing it could swallow whole the mess that is me. My hair tangles into a flat and moist ball of yarn, my back is sticky with the sweat of the none-stop nightmares throughout the night and the discomfortable sleep – which could only be called as a black out. I finished listening to the third time of my persistent alarm’s three-minute-long wailing, only to come to a desperate realization:Life goes on, no matter what a shitty mess it is.I was sentenced to death, but I still gotta work.Just great.After a loud, long grown, I

That’s how I knew he was a womanizer.The first time we met was in our drama class, taught by the coolest lady who married herself to acting, I was all but excited about coming to a big city from a small farm, a new school with cool classes, and a bright future waiting. He came up to me when I didn’t even know his name, and he said: Okay, you can be my girlfriend.Pretty sure I smashed my book into his head.If not because we became friends after that, I would have thrown my coffee in his face right now. He is just like this. He enjoys the fun of flirting, tickling people’s hearts with sweet words. “What’s wrong with a little harmless flirting?” He would say.Nothing, except it’s not all that harmless or innocent. People might get hurt if they get the wrong idea.This is where I differ from Mateo the most.I don’t like leading people on if I’m not truly interested. I don’t go and flirt with everyone I see. I’m the kind of person who friends with people while keeping my heart secretly

“You are so fucking ridiculous,” Damien grumbles, not understand what I’m talking about.He shakes his head slowly as he glares at me with disbelief in his eyes. “You left a steak in the microwave, and it’s smelling rotten now. That’s what your precious dog was chewing on!”Surprised, I look around in haste, and on the floor lies a dripping plastic bag with a piece of bloody steak in it, on its surface several holes from dog bites.Right. I guess I did take out the steak yesterday before I went to the doctor for my body check. It was frozen and I microwaved it, only to forget it in there.“Can’t you just throw the steak away?” I retort with my hands open at the steak, but the power in my voice weakens out of guilt, “Even if it’s for his own good, you didn’t have to kick him!”His damn germophobia. I can’t bring myself to take that as a justified reason to lay his foot on Thunder.“I was just holding him down-- Thunder, back off!” Damien raises his foot again when Thunder tries to appr

“Thunder, quiet!” I grab Thunder’s collar with a low warning before I charge to the bus door again: “Please, he is a good boy! He doesn’t bite, and I got him on a leash!”I don’t have a car, and even if I take a train, I still need to change a bus in the middle. The only way is to rent a car, but then I have to go back and rearrange the whole trip.I don’t know when going back to our house became such an excruciating idea, but I just can’t think of it.I want to leave, right now. Far, far away.The driver is a man in his fifties, with a messy beard and short grey hair. He turns his head around impatiently, ready to shout again. But when he sees me, well, my red teary eyes, he pauses.A heavy sigh.“Fine!” He grunts loudly, apparently not for my ears, but for others, “If he is a service dog then!”I close my palms for him. He has no idea how much his kindness means to me when my life is such a mess.I think he went soft on me because he is a man with a daughter -- on the side of his do