moments ago seemed reassuring. The room begins to feel too small. There’s no one to ask for help, no hand to hold for comfort in this critical moment. Breathing becomes shallow, labored, as the heart struggles to maintain a rhythm that is no longer its own.
Every passing second brings with it a question that weighs more than a boulder. What
is left to do when the world around you shrinks to a few square meters? Instinct tells you to move, to look for a way out, but the
