Chaos

Lisa, her face etched with desperation, called out to Neil, “Neil, Neil, wake up! It’s me, Lisa!” Her voice was urgent and sorrowful, each plea laden with boundless emotion and hope, as if trying to pierce through Neil's numbed consciousness. Her words trembled with a barely contained quiver, each call feeling like a piece of her soul reaching out in anguish.

Seeing Lisa’s desperate pleas, we couldn’t help but join in. I heard myself shouting, “Neil, it’s me, Ryan! Do you remember what we talked about? You can’t be controlled; you have to wake up!” Harry and Peter also raised their voices, their tones a mixture of anxiety, anger, and despair, but above all, there was a deep yearning and conviction. We hoped that our voices might break through the haze of control and bring Neil back to us.

We weren’t sure if our efforts would be effective, or if our heartfelt calls could counteract Yolanda’s dark magic, but it was all we could do at that moment. We had to believe that our voices could