My Sanctuary In A Time Of Lifelessness

Title of the Novel: "My Sanctuary in a Time of Lifelessness"

Introduction :

"I'm not doing well. Can someone please fill me in on what's going on!"

You ask me how I feel, so I'll tell you: I don't know. My heart swings in many rooms I don't have the keys to. Every day, my interest in others fades, and a spark in my eyes diminishes. I want to call out to you, but you don't listen. Society gave me emotions and left me with knowledge, but my failure in its lessons indicates my lack of understanding of emotions and explaining their concepts.

I am "linguistically weak." I long for many things, so don't blame me if you don't find completeness to fill your emptiness. I won't cry for your condolences, nor will I rejoice in your happiness. I can't read your expressions, and likewise, you won't understand my inner self.

I see a colorful world through the window, yet I see only one color from it. I am "emotionally dull." My soul doesn't speak your language.

how terrifying to not express in a time where raging fire is everywhere we see ..

we live a war but I m unable to cry of fear.

Chapter One: "Time of Massacres"**

We left books on the shelves to be eaten by dust and robbed of their youth, and we abandoned memories to heal on their own and take buried pages.

An era that lives us and draws life from us, squeezing us until we become a drink quenching its thirst. We must not let our hands slacken; war doesn't forget or leave, fear isn't in losing but in waiting for the end that takes our lives.

"We don't live, and we don't die," this is the truth in our unknown world.

We left casual conversations in this solitary house, and we delved into the topic that preoccupies every household during this 'raging war.' In a world like this, I lost my voice and lived my days slowly. I know that time is slipping away from me, my soul caught in a whirlpool I couldn't escape. With every lost battle, it loses a piece of itself, and on the other hand, I feel my sense of belonging dwindling towards those around me.

I hope I don't wake up at night with a strangeness that makes me search for my reflection in a mirror It hadn't known how to express features that don't belong to me. I don't understand the identity of the emotions that sneak into me and don't go beyond the surface of my face, but I drown... and I don't know how to swim, and this is not a river I can survive in.

"wafa, my daughter, come join us for dinner."

I heard my mother's call coming from the living room, tired and completely weak, just like how it was left by her illness. I hurried to join them for dinner. I placed the final dishes on the table and sat with the family in a rare gathering.

I lifted my eyes to those present; we were six people, and I drowned in their expressions. I wish to remember them in their calm and cold state, and I plead not to forget the feeling that comes from their smiles that fade within me.

"wafa, what's on your mind, my daughter?"

The man next to me asked in a husky, deep voice, but I couldn't respond; my silence conveyed a lot. And suddenly, amidst my silence, I felt warmth in my father's voice as he spoke cautiously, unaware of what was happening inside me.

I struggled to rise from my seat, withdrawing into the darkness that makes me feel safe.

Heads turned towards me, focusing on my expression and anticipating my answer, only to be met with complete silence from me, redirecting their attention to their fingers playing with the food on their plates.

It's not that I didn't want to answer, but in that moment when the question fell upon me, it felt impossible to find the right words. So, I fell silent, thinking... and my silence lingered, my fingers halted their movement towards my plate, and I lost all desire to continue eating my meal.

"Doesn't the meal suit your taste?" he asked.

"It's not that. I'm just full, so excuse me," I replied simply, as if our recent interaction hadn't elapsed for a considerable time.

around this table sit a man with thin muscular bone structure and wavy short hair and glory brown skin and night eyes, I noticed his eyes on me since the very first moment I sat while he kept feeding his little sister of 5 years old who's nesting in his arms unaware of her brother's inner struggle.

he looked at me sidelong as I focused on them absentmindedly. This person in front of me, whom we're supposed to be soul mates , souls wandering until they met and found belonging...

He really knows nothing of what afflicts me.

I rose wearily from my seat and withdrew to the place that would drown out these voices rising within me. I would return to that darkness, and as soon as they stepped into it, I would feel my body empty and my mind discard all thoughts... It's an addiction of another kind, one I fear entering, but I fear even more that unfamiliar whirlpool that devours me beyond its orbit.

"So, what have you decided?"

As I stood, my grandfather's vo