"It's worse now. This past weekend ... well, it's worse now. You can't love me now. You love who I was. I think she's gone now. They killed her."He held me close and said, "I know about this weekend. Well, I know about most of it. I don't care. I already learned my lesson. I know you were hurt, badly. You have been damaged mentally and physically. We'll work at it. You'll get better. We'll get better. I won't let you go again."I knew he meant it. It didn't matter, though. I was going to die. I could not stay silent now. It felt that if I stay silent, some fatal could happen to my mother. I have to save her by anyway. I ran out of home and went out to call my neighbors. Some elderly as well as some strong guys were playing carom at nearby club. They heard the thing and they rushed towards our home to help my mother.My mother was bleeding and her whole face was covered by blood. Seeing this the neighbors soon rushed over my father to stop him. They grabbed his hand and tried to pull. ‘Ve cannot heff customers of such beauty in ze café vizout ze outside vorld knowink!’ Frau Meyer had lived in England for twenty years to my certain knowledge but her accent had not changed in all the years I had known her. I felt sure it was an act. We sat and she fussed around us, bringing menus, coffee and ultimately two big, English breakfasts which, incidentally, Tilda ordered without reference to me. I rather liked that. Tilda went to the toilet and while she was gone Frau Meyer came over. I told her about my dog and how I work too much to have a good relationship with a woman. I caught myself getting interested in her. I had an escort named Brandi that would go on dates with me and sleep over. For the past few years I never really put any effort into a relationship, it was great what Brandi and I had. After about fifteen minutes of chatting I got up and said "we better go and check on doc". When I opened the door he was messing around in her mouth, everything looked normal. I.
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