Anisa was lost in the storm. Lost and shattered, she didn't even attempt to claw her way out. Shakily, she examined her weary hands. Scattered lines ran deep on her skin as if they were telling a story of their own. Her skin devoid of any colour tried to remind her of happy memories. There were moments in her life where breathing ceased to exist and became a task she was much too aware of. Some days it was the hardest task she would ever do.
4 parts