Antara was alone, struggling consnstantly stuggling to survive for another day. He fought with the weapons that he had, trying his best to lead a normal life. But time after time he failed in achieving this simple yet at the same so complex objective. He kept going own, living in a state that could hardly be considered 'life'. Until he was forced to change. His tactics didn't work anymore, his targets started getting more cautious. He simply had no choice: either fight harder for his dreams or die alone, hungry, in the dusty floorboards of his rented room.

And so it started, a desperate last stuggle of a boy that had nothing, achieved nothing, and yet refused to simply succumb to his hopeless situation. Under these nigh impossible conditions, will he thrive? Or will he perish? In the end, will all of this even be worth the struggle? These are questions that no one has the answers to. Not Antara, and most definetily not me.