Inside a turbulent twister, Yllana was sitting in the center. Harsh winds continuously blow on her body and her hair has been turned into a lump of mess. 'How long has it been? Two weeks? or more?' She felt her heart clenched as she thought of the people she had suddenly left behind.
Definitely, she is not dead yet. If she were, how come she could feel every strike of the wind on her skin? With each strike, a red mark appears on her body. It burned. Sometimes the hit was so strong that she falls to her side and draws her breath deeply.
She did not know how long the sun has been up in the sky, but she never felt hungry nor tired. 'I have to find a way to go back.' She tried to open her eyes. Dust particles flying about her caught in her right eye making her wince and rub her eyes the next moment. "Damn it!"