And she didn’t remember how the side of my face was slit open? It was that unimportant? Just a tiny blip in her timeline of events that she hadn’t even felt the need to commit it to memory; yet every time I looked in the mirror, I was reminded of the night that halted my whole life. I tried to clear my head as I ran, but every car that passed brought me back to that damn night when everything had gone so wrong.
