After Officer Marcel left, he sat down on the sofa and buried his hands in his soft, black hair.
He did not seem like a murderous person at all. But more like a vulnerable child who needed protection and comfort. It was the first time that I was faced with this situation, I didn't know what to do. Finally, I sat down next to him and touched the smooth hair on his head, just the way he comforted me when I was a child.
“Do you also think I'm an evil man?” he asked and stretched out his arms to hug me, putting his face on my shoulder. I did not want to deceive him again, instead of giving him false smiles, I answered, "I don't know!”
“I am determined to become a good person, but there are things I cannot control,” Jonathan told me. I hugged his trembling shoulders with my thin arms, listening to him quietly because I didn't know how to answer.
"When my elder brother, Harvey died, I was downstairs. He was beaten black and blue, thrown from the twenty-fifth floor.
“Your sorrow won’t bring him back,” I blinked my slightly moist eyes, trying to squeeze out a smile, and said to him, “You have to find a way to forget it!” There were only two of us in the spacious and bright living room, two people struggling in the endless pain.