Abbu, Abbu, I called out to him in my head, come back. I hate it without you. I hated going to sleep because Abbu wasn’t there. I hated eating because Abbu didn’t give me kisses. I hated waking up because I wouldn’t find Abbu lying next to me. All I did was stand on the balcony. All I wanted to do was lift the curtain and peep outside. I jumped up every time there was a knock at the door. I ran to see who it was. I hated my lunch because Abbu wasn’t there. I wanted to throw up after drinking my milk because Abbu wasn’t there. I didn’t feel like putting on my clothes because Abbu wasn’t there.
