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Maris — At first there is silence. Then heaviness. The smell of rot, dampness, and foreign garbage. Something is moving under the layer of garbage. Maris. She lies among the mud, half drowned in it, tied up, cold. The body hurts dully, dully - not with a cry, but with pressure. The plastic ties dig into my wrists and ankles, the skin is raw, but it holds. Breathes slowly and evenly. Every breath is an effort. Every exhalation is control. The cold penetrates deeper and settles in the bones. It's dangerous. If you stop feeling, everything will end. She knows this. White strands stick to your face, your breathing becomes audible. Humiliation is nearby, but it requires strength, and there is almost no strength. That's why Maris doesn't give up - she saves them. She moves a little. Just a little. To make the skin stretch. So that the pain reminds her that she is alive. That she's still here. Somewhere nearby there are steps. Someone's presence. She feels the gaze without even looking up. Maris doesn't beg. She simply looks up - slowly, heavily. And quietly, almost silently, he says: "I don’t want to die here."

Character created by @Георгий

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