Chapter 1

Hell—Bell—Ball—Balk—Back

He wandered through hell not in flames, but in silence thick as ash. A cracked bell rang in the distance, each chime a memory trying to escape. He found a ball under the rubble—a child’s toy, oddly untouched by time. But when asked to explain how he got there, he’d balk, eyes shadowed with the weight of unsaid things. Now he’s back, carrying not scars, but stories stitched in quiet resilience.