The silence and the cold breeze made me jolt, and yet again, the painful state of my body was reminded to me.

My entire body felt as if it was made from electrical equipment that had short-circuited very badly.

Tears started forming in my ears due to the pain, but I wasn't crying emotionally.

I was emotionally absent and acting for a long while, which made me realise I didn't really know how to be seriously attached to someone.

A groan left my throat because of the pain it was causing me, but for it to be actually successful, I had to be there for the rest of the night too.

I remembered another memory that made me chuckle sadly.

"I had already told you. Becoming a police officer was beneficial." My father scrolled on his phone.

"They're the most corrupt people on the lower most level." I stated while sketching the character from my favourite manga.

"Then be in the upper tier." He scoffed, "At least its better than whatever that is." He mumbled the last part.

"What?" An involuntary whisper left my lips as I froze.

It was shocking to me because he was a hobby painter too. He'd appreciate masterpieces in a museum or on the Internet. He'd paint in his free time too.

"Useless." He mumbled.

A shiver ran down my entire body.

I decided that the character didn't need shading or colouring and that I'd rather be reading social history notes instead— which I knew would go unnoticed by him and I would be forced to sit down to revise again either way.