I walked out of my room and saw my brother sitting on the couch. He was laughing. Nobody seemed to be terrified about the fact he has been dead for over a year. He was thinner and looked like an 18-year old version of himself.
My hands and feet were tied together, shackled to chains. I could hear my family shouting outside.
But they weren’t there. No one was there.
I was in a different country, anyways.
Categories: Scribbles of Thoughts