Three days after that.
The snowstorm was still raging outside—loud, violent, relentless—and it wasn't just "cold" anymore. It felt like the whole world had been swallowed by winter. The way the wind howled made it seem like some angry god was trying to peel the roofs off the houses. It was so strong that every time a gust hit, the wooden panels of my room hummed, like the entire building was holding its breath. When I looked outside earlier, everything past a few meters was just white, like the world decided to erase itself. It wasn't snowing—it was drowning in snow.
Honestly, it felt like I was staring at some kind of ground zero.
