I found her sitting motionless. Like a rock in the wind.

I didn’t look forward to seeing her again. But I went to her because I knew she was suffering. I also knew only I could alleviate it, albeit temporarily. Getting to her was like walking though a maze. But I could always smell their skin for kilometers.

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It’s never quiet anymore.

Clamour has become the norm. The screaming, the crying, the sound of skin slapping skin, bone connecting with bone. The symphony of pain. A piano crescendo… fortissimo! There is no strength behind this noise. Only pain and hopelessness.

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