31st December 1995, (After six months)
I was sitting on the bed, staring at the white walls with tears in my eyes. Six months had passed in the asylum, I was all alone, with no one besides me. Doctor Imaara who was handling my case, was a kind and generous lady. She was in her late forties, and had brown silky hair. She always spoke to me lovingly, she was like a motherly figure to me. There was a kind nurse, who took great care of me. Her name was Rosy and she was in her fifties. She too was a sweet and generous lady.
I spent these six months in the asylum, drawing, painting, writing poetries and diary. Doctor Imaara used to talk to me daily. I kept on thinking about how my life took a 360-degree turn. I never knew when would I step out of this asylum? I felt sick. Ryan's spirit kept o
