The Journal

_My legs are broken, the burning… what’s the fire in my skull? I cant breath the air is so thick and I cannot see for the smoke, how much have I inhaled? My toes slide wet inside my boots , my pants cling to me though I hardly feel them… I have sand in my pants, sand in my pants I know it.. dont I? WHER AM i , I WAS WITH the others no?

- the sound of waves-

Gilane wakes in a camp, tied to a pole along with other similarly restrained prisoners.

The Journal

Should the Heavens Part. draekan