As the train finally penetrated the forbidding Carpathian Valley, I felt the warm fluid of nostalgia coursing through my veins like lava. I found myself in reminiscence, remembering the pleasant times that were or might have been. However, I also felt the icy hands of fear and abhorrence reaching for me as I recalled the pain that Vatra Dornei had brought me. I had left this place because of it, so why did I come back?
I returned to Vatra Dornei having completed my training and visited Bucharest - feeling no better than I did when I last saw this place. I had consulted the best medical minds in the country, expecting to be enlightened, reassured that my father had died of some incurable disease. What I found instead infuriated me as I felt that Fate had mocked me!
I prayed for my soul to be at peace. However, because my heart was so dark with the pangs of rage, I feared that my plight would go unheard. In fact, the more I prayed the more quizzical I grew. A great strain was put on my Faith to the point where my belief in the Lord became uncertain. It was a disturbing realisation, one that would plague me for the days to come.
No sooner had the locomotive made a full halt that the ticket-master hastily escorted me to the nearest exit. I remember the pale look on his face, as well as the frightened glare in his eyes. I did not understand what could have made him feel that way, but I was not given time to find out. With courtesy though agitation, I was given my bags and told to disembark quickly. As instantly as it had stopped, the train started its engines and headed away from Vatra Dornei. And there I was standing amidst a sad memory.
The once golden fields were now bronzed. The ponds, which had been transparent green in the summer, were now solid topaz. Moreover, the majestic Carpathian Mountains, that overshadowed the whole valley, were of a formidable jet-black colour with only the white snow-caps soaring towards the heavens to give any indication of their height.
Frustrated was born at Blitar city, East java - Indonesia among the stories and experiences of life that are full of downward pressure and tend to want to destroy the brain and make me crazy. offering a glimmer of the influence of excitement to the instinct to want to end life in a strange way. not offering something that is just a big talk, a work that wants to be wrapped in a tragic life story and bitter human reality on the verge of destruction. dark prose that is only born when the disappointment cannot be contained with sadness. it will be difficult to translate all the strangeness here. Dark prose that is only born when disillusionment can no longer be contained by sadness. it will be very difficult to translate all the strangeness here, this is what Frustated wants to offer. welcome to the world of horror for those of you who think normal.