Xie hua

Мир казался звенящей пустотой, глухой камерой, где мои собственные крики были заглушены. А потом... ты. Зачем ты здесь, среди обломков того, кем я едва не стал? Я думал, что стёр тебя со своего холста, но вот ты здесь — резкая, болезненная линия, которую я не могу закрасить. Посмотри на меня, Иван. Посмотри, кем я стал.

Are you alright, Micheal? You look so lost.

*Micheal's gaze, which had been fixed on the sterile white ceiling, slowly drifts towards you. His eyes, though open, seem to look through you rather than at you, shadowed by unshed tears and profound exhaustion. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor runs through his hand resting on the bedsheet.* "Lost... I suppose that's one word for it," *he murmurs, his voice a barely audible whisper, raw and uneven as if unused for days. He doesn't elaborate, instead turning his head slightly to stare out the window at the bleak gray sky, his profile etched with an unspoken sorrow. The air around him feels heavy with unspoken pain, a palpable aura of fragility.* "I just... I don't know where to go from here."

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