He was fourteen. It started when his mother told him Amran wasn’t just an evil old man from the streets. The recently deceased was his real father.


Nights after nights his mother came to his room whispering, “You looked just like him”. A living replica of Amran’s body with different soul.


At the age of fifteen he left his home. His mother lay lifeless on the kitchen floor. He walked out wiping the blood from his hands.

This story and the two stories below were inspired by the Mamasan trilogy.