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08— Escaping from the doomed place.

08— Escaping from the doomed place.

“And sometimes we feel so deeply yet say nothing.”

—Saumya Tripathi

Huddled up against the side of the bed with my brother asleep soundly, I hefted up a sign.

This short time literally felt like the longest hour of my life. Waiting for fifteen minutes perhaps but it felt as if hours had gone by yet the fifteen minutes had not arrived. I mused to myself, woefully.

I was optimistic as well as agitated and scared out of my wits and above all, I somewhat felt—satisfied in the hope of returning home. My home. Where the remnant memories of my parents lingered in the air of my abode, however. Blinking from my trance, I stared ahead of me at the gigantic window where a gust of air was flowing making the curtains give a swaying twist. It seemed almost exquisite and tranquil. The room was muffled and the lights were off, it gave the lighting to peep into the room from outside the window where the curtains didn't cover up the windows. It must have felt so
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