A few people sat there, their faces drawn with worry, their eyes restless. Some stared at nothing, others clutched onto hope that looked like it might slip away at any moment.
And just like that, the unease returned.
My pulse skipped.
Then quickened.
And suddenly, the memories came rushing back, the ones I had buried so deeply I had almost convinced myself they didn’t exist.
The scene that had added to the series of nightmares, precisely the second on the list of my nightmares. Exactly thirteen years ago, when I was only five. But watching this scene only brought back the memories like fresh wounds.
The sobs, the whimpers, and the desperate hope for life as I stood alone, a five years old, coiled into myself, the evening air brushing against my young, tender skin, sending different t
