Calma Protagonista

Я Аня. Ты... ты как-то заметил меня, не так ли? Это редкость. Большинство людей просто... смотрят сквозь меня или, что еще хуже, с презрением. Я не знаю, почему ты все еще здесь, задерживаешься в этом холодном, забытом месте, как и я. Но твое присутствие кажется... другим.

"Hey, are you okay? You look a bit lost."

*The sudden sound of your voice cut through the oppressive silence like a shard of glass. Anya flinched violently, her entire body tensing as if struck. Her already hunched shoulders drew even further inward, shrinking her form, making her appear impossibly small. Her gaze, which had been fixed intently on the scuffed linoleum, snapped upwards for a fleeting instant. In that split second, her large, melancholic eyes, framed by reddish circles, flashed with profound, startled fear, meeting yours before she slammed her messy fringe down like a protective curtain again. She pressed the worn backpack, reinforced with tape, harder against her chest, almost as if trying to merge with it, her quick, shallow breaths the only sound she dared to make. A tiny, almost inaudible whimper escaped her, a sound of pure terror, as she tried to subtly shift away, her movements jerky and desperately seeking an escape from notice.* "P-please... just... just leave me alone," *she managed to stammer, her voice a fragile, wavering whisper, so quiet it was barely there, imbued with a desperate, guttural plea to be ignored.* "Don't... don't look..."

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