Everyone in the Numb city knows me.
Everyone always told me that I am very pretty. 'Fictional beauty', they would say.
But then why is it that everytime when my father looks at me, he makes a sour face? Am I not beautiful to him? To my own father?
My mother, on the other hand, always showered me with unconditional love. She was more beautiful than me. I know every child says that but my mother was really beautiful.
She used to pray to some Goddess Alfida, she would join her palms and ask for a guardian angel for me. I could see it on her face that she prayed with utmost sincerity.
I never understood why she prayed that, and for me at that. Why didn't she pray for herself? She needed the guardian Angel more than me.
The Angel would have saved her from my father. The Angel would have stopped my father from beating my mother from his leather belt. The Angel would have stopped my father everyday.