Trash Like You Can Only Come From Trash

Jaxx’s Point Of View “Oh… I came to check if you’re still breathing, Matilda.” Her lips parted, her breath hitched, shock painted her expression. She hadn’t expected that. She stiffened in her seat, as though the words themselves burned her skin.And that’s when the old man snapped. “Watch your mouth, boy,” his voice thundered across the room, rich with authority, the kind that demanded obedience. His hand gripped the arm of his leather chair, knuckles white. “You don’t speak to my wife in that manner.” I didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look at him. Just dragged on my cigarette again, letting the smoke curl lazily from my lips like I had all the time in the world. Silence became my rebellion. Matilda’s eyes flickered between us, confusion and tension swirling in her gaze, but she said nothing. She knew better than to interrupt when storms were about to collide. When boredom finally clawed at me, I leaned forward and stubbed the cigarette against his polished mahogany table. A fresh burn mark