After two months renting a small house for herself, Giana felt haunted by loneliness whenever she saw the empty house that had nothing. She didn't have anyone to talk to either.
Therefore, she decided to come to this old age home. At least by being here, she would not feel lonely, at least there were people who could show her a little care and also people she could still talk to.
At the age of fifty-three, Giana lived surrounded by mostly people her age, who have absolutely no influence or have an extraordinary family background.
They were just people with ordinary backgrounds and did not have any privileges.
'I live, because I did not die.'
Maybe it was the suitable sentence to describe Giana's current situation. She was alive, but her soul was dead. She still laughed some times, but it never reached her eyes.
If the eyes were a reflection of the soul, then Giana's blank stare was a perfect reflection of how empty her soul was right now.
