Novel & Cerita All Around Me Are Worn Out Faces

The scene is surreal, almost as if I am trapped in a nightmare from which I cannot wake. Outside, the people gathered on the sidewalks seem to form a sea of indistinct faces, a mass of judging eyes that pierce my soul. Each one carries a different expression—some filled with pure morbid curiosity, while others display a silent, implacable judgment. My eyes, now blurred by the tears I stubbornly hold back, can barely focus on these unknown faces.

I slowly wipe blood particles off my lips. I though remain alert. Am just awakening. Am a novice to any brother Rowan's sechemes. I gaze at myself. My clothes are all torn and tattered. Numerous tears from the fall really destroyed my cloth. I circulate myself. Surrounding dust particles gradually subside. I heave. Everything and everyone finally appears into clearer view. Everyone like every pack member's. They all surround me. They all gasp at my emerges from the dust particles. Gasp over my untold rouge survival and return I guess.

Their clothes are torn, their faces pale, and grief weighs down every movement they make. I stay close to Leo’s side like he told me, my steps cautious, my eyes darting from ruin to ruin. Every charred wall, every broken doorframe, feels like a wound carved into my chest. I can still picture children running across yards like this, voices raised in play. Families gathering by firepits. Now all of it is gone.

Like a Free Bird At the door, there’s this tall, lanky fellow, with a week-old stubble on a pitifully undernourished jawline and a face with unusually white patches of skin standing with a tilt to his right. He has an aluminium forearm clutch in his right hand and he is emitting a strong stench of inflammable oil, a stench which is common among city bus drivers and conductors, diesel engine technicians working with the Railways or in the car-repair workshops. For me, it has really been hard to recognize people in the neighbourhood, because in this colony, people keep moving in and out. In the last eight years, every time I came for my vacations, I met at least one new family in the immediate

“You will never see the world you trully belong.” I was like fell to slumber the longest of time. I wake up to see the blinding of light that soring the deepest wound in my eyes. As if there's really invisible wound that keep aching as the light meet my eyes. I yawned and see the outside that was desolated. “This place...” The breeze of wind far from being chilly was brought me a shivering thought. I gasped when the thought of something replace by the face of young looking man, raising his eyebrow to my messy state. “Yeah, right!”

are the last words I hear before fate strikes. A plethora of pretty ladies crowd around me instantly, something I've learned to deal with. Many new faces are around, made up in oblivion. I smile instantly, trying desperately to mask the sudden discomfort underneath. I used to be at home under those admiring gazes, but now they scare me like I'm a deer caught in the headlights.

My bag bumped against my hip with each step, loud in the silence. I was almost at the door when he said it again. “Autumn.” Something in his voice made me stop. I hated myself for it. Slowly, reluctantly, I turned. That’s when I really saw him. Not just the outline, not just the exhaustion painted across his features, but the raw decay of him. The overgrown hair. The hollow cheeks. The lines etched deep around his mouth. He looked like someone who had been chewed up and spit out by the world.

I faced the mirror as I brushed my teeth and I barely recognized the person staring back at me. My eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, highlighted by the dark circles of sunken skin underneath them. My cheeks were red and raw from rubbing away the tears that had fallen throughout the night. I washed my face in cool water, hoping to soothe the inflamed skin but it was useless. Giving up, I showered quickly and dressed in some faded jeans, a black t-shirt, and some black biker boots, then headed out the door.