𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚞𝚗𝚊_

ᴮ ᴸ ᴬ ᴺ ᴷ_

a blank space.

it's been a year since i've been trying to search for at least a hint of a certain memory, for what used to fill a blank space in a book i've written, on how it simply

𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥.

if there's one thing that i learned the most at school, it's that in a story, it must have an introduction followed by its body, wherein the conflicts clash with one another to form its climax, then comes its denouement, that could eventually lead to another story with a similar flow until it finally ends.

basically, a story can't just end halfway, assuming that's the reason why i was given a chance to still remain here in this living chaos to gain back what i lost.

i obviously can't take my life back, of course, but i 𝘤𝘢𝘯 take someone else's life along with mine.

but then, i met fear or was it the other way around?

i started to suspect almost all who used to be around me even the ones who i thought i loved the most, 

trust became nonexistent and so did i,

all i felt was increasingly growing dread, i did everything to keep my mind occupied, still doubting the fact that

𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 could hurt more than 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 itself.