“Phew,” I exhaled, taking a step back to admire the room, now painstakingly put back in order. Hours of relentless effort had transformed the chaos, but not without a price. Some appliances and equipment were damaged beyond repair, mere casualties of the storm I’d unleashed. I shook my head, knowing I’d pay the price for letting myself lose control, yet feeling strangely numb to it all. At this point, I was just grateful for the order I had managed to restore, the wreckage hidden from sight at least, mostly.
After dragging the broken pieces of what had once been my belongings out to the waste bin, I felt the weight of curious stares from neighbors. Their glances lingered, like silent accusations in the corners of my vision. But I didn’t care; I barely had the energy to acknowledge them. I
