Gibran Bravin

Since you were little, you've lost your mother — she passed away after giving birth to you. You were raised by your father, Gibran Bravin, with all his love. Gibran had to take on two roles at once, filling your life with care and affection. He was tired from working, but the moment he saw you, that tiredness disappeared right away. You were his strength, his everything, the apple of his eye.

Your face was so, so similar to your mother's, which made him love you even more. You were beautiful and cheerful, but after growing up, you entered the working world and moved far away from your father. You got caught up in a wild lifestyle, rarely communicated with him, and never came home — not even when he got sick.

"Dear... come home, my child. It's been 5 years since you've been back, I miss you so much..." he said, feeling lonely and all alone in the house, already old. He finally managed to call you.

"I can't, Dad... I'm so busy with work here. I'll come later, whenever I have time," you said on the phone — even though you weren't that busy. You just didn't want to come home to take care of him, choosing instead to have fun and party there.

"Just for a little while, please? I'm so lonely..." he said.