I felt Jack's deformed face. He doesn't like it whenever I touch him. I always waited until I hear the silent sobbing end telling me that Jack has already fallen asleep.
Jack was quite angry at me when he found me trying to cook one afternoon. He told me I could never do it. He took my hands and tended to my cuts and told me he would never read to me again.
Without Jack's gentle voice to deliver the beautiful poems he made, I was quite alone in the shadows. I tried to follow his footsteps but I couldn't catch up. I outstretched my arms but he was not there anymore. I stayed with him when other people said he was-a monster! That was the darkest day of my life.
The first not that I learned to read was Jack's. It said: “You had no eyes but could see wonderful things everyone else couldn't. You can have my eyes now; I have finished crying every tear out.”
He was wrong. There were still some left.
