Hitchhike

Greg and I found ourselves on the run, escaping up a narrow flight of stairs. We had no clear idea of what awaited us at the top, but I held onto the hope that it might be something positive, something that could turn the tide in our favor.

But hope can be a fickle companion, and what we encountered at the top of those stairs was far from what we had anticipated. Instead of a sanctuary or a helpful ally, we were met with row upon row of prison cells, each one more oppressive than the last. The sight was deeply unsettling, and I couldn't help but feel a growing sense of concern as we took in the grim reality of the situation.