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... hing different from my desperate struggle was a feeling. It was very faint, but also very different from all the desperation and helplessness. Then it morphed itself into something else. A thought. A thought which became a word.

"Peter", echoed in my mind.

- Peter - I repeated. - Peter?

"Peter", echoed again.

This time I didn't repeat my name. I still concentrated on it, though.

"Wish to live. Wish to get healed", the same voice, as it became stronger, spo ...

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