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Kuto’s life no. 37
Kuto's life was filled with fear. He was always on the run, never knowing when or if the next attack would come. He had seen too many people killed, their bodies left to rot in the sun.
Now he was in Sri Lanka, hiding in a safe house with other refugees. There were no windows and the only light came from a small candle that guttered in the corner. The air was thick with tension and Kuto could feel everyone's eyes on him, even though they tried to pretend they weren't looking.
He knew his hair color - rusted red - made him stand out and he had Buzz cut it short so that it wouldn't be so obvious. His face was shaved clean, but he still felt like everyone could see his fear. He wore a grey and green t-shirt that someone had given him, but it did little to hide his skinny frame.
The days passed slowly as they waited for news of what was happening outside. Occasionally someone would risk going out to see if there were any attacks happening, but most of the time they just huddled together in silence.
One night, Kuto couldn't take it anymore. He crept out of the safe house and made his way towards one of the refugee camps nearby. It was risky, but he needed to see if there were any survivors from his village who might have ended up there..