The dimly lit apartment in the heart of the city had witnessed its fair share of family battles, but this morning’s confrontation between Drake and his mother, Linda, was unlike any other. The morning sun cast eerie shadows across the room, intensifying the already tense atmosphere.
Drake sat on the worn-out sofa, his eyes locked on his mother, who remained motionless in the aftermath of his actions. The bluish tint of her skin offered him a strange sense of relief and satisfaction.
"She deserves this," he muttered, his hands still trembling from the adrenaline. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, his mind justifying his actions as he reflected on the suffering Linda had inflicted on him and his sister, Eleanor.
"She deserves this," he repeated, contemplating how Eleanor was pushed to her breaking point because of their mother.