Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

14 months left…

“Okay Sunny, let’s begin our session. I want you to stay as relaxed as possible. Just listen to my voice.”

“Follow my voice as I bring you down and down, guiding you into the past.”

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I am floating.

Just a moment ago, I was sitting on a sofa, accompanied by a psychologist who was sitting right beside me. But now, I am all alone.

I am floating between time and space.

The psychologist’s voice guides me as I cross through the event horizon: the point of no return. Reaching the point of singularity.

I feel my body is being stretched apart towards the focal point. The molecules in my body begin to break. I can no longer feel my legs, my hands, or my body.

I no longer feel anything.

I am losing a part of myself. I feel like I am everywhere, yet nowhere at the same time.

“As you follow my voice, you then found a coloured light. Could you tell me what colour it is?”

“…”

“…white.”

“A white colour? I see. Do you see anything else?”

“…a laptop, a hanging bulb, and a notebook.”

“I see, so you see yourself in a room, I presume? Now, the person you care about is in that room with you. Do you know who that is?

“Yes…my sister.”

I walk closer to her. That beautiful long hair, those pair of loving, caring eyes…

I want to hug her tight, to tell her I’m sorry. For being angry, impatient, rash…

If I could just hold on a little longer, then she would still be with me.

Forgive me, dear sister.

“Your sister, hmm? And what does she say to you?”

“She says…”

I can’t hear her. Her mouth is moving, but I can’t understand what she is saying.

Then…

Memories come flooding back into my mind like a geyser.

“Come here, Sunny. Your lovely sister wants to give you a very big hug!”

“You should smile more, little brother!”

“Mom! Sunny doesn’t want to eat his vegetables.”

“Don’t be afraid. It is not as scary as you think.”

“If you’re having nightmares, you can always come and sleep with me.”

“Sunny, you need to be strong. Can you do that for me?”

In an instant, the whole room changes. It becomes…

“Red.”

“Red?” The psychologist’s voice seems far away, leaving me all alone.

“Again. We will not stop until you get this part right.”

“C’mon, Sunny. Focus!”

“Ugh, why do you keep messing this up!?”

Colours of crimson begin to encroach reality itself as gigantic hands start to emerge from above and below. They then form an ominous, yet inviting-looking throne. Without a second thought, I walk towards it, proudly claiming it as my own. From my throne, I observe the phenomenon occurring before me. Could one call this hell? But it feels so…comforting. Like, this is where I belong.

Where I deserve to live.

My sister is clearly not amused by this. She begins to shout at me, begging me to stop this madness at once. I don’t pay her any mind. How could I, when such a marvellous event is taking place right before my very eyes? Feeling annoyed, my sister walks towards me, bringing her face way too close to my face, and starts shouting.

Screaming.

Nagging.

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…please, shut up.

Several hands emerge out of thin air, pulling her away from me. The hands hold her in place, violently choking her, prompting her to be quiet. The more she struggles, the tighter the grip on her got. She looks at me, trying to earn an inch of sympathy.

Poor, poor sister.

She tries to wriggle her body, kicking the air, but it is to no avail. I watch as her life slowly ebbs away from her fragile body. Her desperate attempts for air, her eyes which look like they could pop out at any moment due to the pressure.

“Sun…ny…”

“Stop it…”

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“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!”

“Sunny!?”

“I KILLED HER. IT WAS ME. IT WAS ME!!”

“Listen to me! I am now going to pat you on your shoulders. When I do, you will be fully awake.”

“3, 2, 1, now!”

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“…HAHHHH!!!”

It takes a few moments, but my vision becomes clearer as I slowly regain consciousness. The pain in my head skyrockets as if someone shot a bullet straight into it. My senses begin to return: the sight of a plain wall filled with motivational posters, the smell of lavender, the soft fabric of the sofa, the taste of my mouth, and the loud beating of my heartbeat.

Somehow, I come back here, the world of the living. No longer I was in a white void or a space filled with hands. And her face now disappeared from my sight.

“Are you alright? Please rest for a moment. I’ll go and grab a towel.” The psychologist hurriedly walks out of the room. I wipe off the amount of sweat from my forehead, wondering how the hell I am sweating in an air-conditioned room.

“…sigh…”

After everything’s said and done, I finally excuse myself from today’s session. My eyes wince a bit as I take a step outside the building, allowing the heat-scorching sunlight to kiss my pale skin. This heat is unbearable, making me yearn for the softness of my bed.

I reach into my pocket for my phone, before a familiar white car enters my vision.

“Hey, Sunny. Just on time. C’mon, get in.” Mom softly smiles at me as she opens the passenger door.

The city is as bustling as ever. Pedestrians can be seen everywhere minding their own business, whether it’s taking numerous photos or simply strolling around. Numerous stalls and shops can be seen within the naked eye, counting each and one of them would take ages. Vehicles with various shapes and colours speed their way on the road under the tall bridges and buildings.

Simply put, this place is packed, to the point where it might feel a bit suffocating. It’s like twenty Faraway towns, condensed into one big package.

“So, how was it? Sorry that Mommy couldn’t make it today. Work’s been killing this old woman.” She softly chuckles. As a single mother, carrying the weight of responsibilities all by yourself is not an easy task, this I understand. I wish I could do something to help her, even in the slightest.

“It’s not that bad, they said.” A small lie to make her feel better.

They call it hypnotherapy, a type of treatment where hypnosis is used to create a state of focused attention in the treatment of a medical concern. After that ‘small’ incident, the doctors decided it is best for me to stop and continue with the normal counselling and some medicines. I am probably not suitable for that kind of treatment; not like I know any better. I underwent this treatment without telling them about my past, so they probably couldn’t diagnose me properly. Why didn’t Mom tell them the details?

Of course, she didn’t. How could she even tell such a story?

I softly sigh. Seems like the path of recovery is going to be a tough one.

As we make our way towards our home, I suddenly have this feeling. This uneasiness, like I’m forgetting something. Is it my wallet? No, it’s right here. The medicine? Nah, it’s here too.

What could it be?

Like any other teenager, I reach out for my phone, hoping that this small device can solve this little problem of mine. I watch as my thumbs press the dial pad, navigating through the menu until it reaches the contact list. I don’t have that many numbers, so the only ones there are Mom, the therapist, and the other three.

Aubrey.

Basil.

Kel.

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 Time begins to move at a snail’s pace as my gaze is fixated on those digits, feeling the growing anxiety within me. I swear I can see the pixels of the screen slowly turn into small eyes, looking at my soul. Judging me. Probing me to do something with it.

“…”

You know, come and think about it, I’m kind of not in the mood to do some talking. I have just finished my therapy session, and I am particularly drained. It would leave a sour taste in my mouth if I send them a message, or even worse, giving them a call in this state of mind. Things like these, you can’t rush it.

Feeling content with myself, I put my phone away and slowly lean my back towards the car seat. It is no big deal. I have all the time in the world.

Yeah…

13 months left…

“Alright class, pay attention! It seems like a lot of you still have problems at this part, so listen well now…”

Everyone is in silence, but it’s painfully obvious none of them are paying any attention to what the teacher is saying. It turns to background noises as students found other interesting stuff to talk about.

“…so, about that new game, I told you about…”

“…when will this class ends, I swear…”

“…let’s go to the arcade after this…”

A silent sigh escapes from my lips. They could at least pretend that they’re listening, not that I can blame them. Even I struggle to keep my eyelids from calling it a day. There are times where I can feel doses of motivation courses through me, and they're also days like this one, where I would rather roll up into a cocoon and just fall into a deep slumber.

Sometimes I wonder why I’m here, attending a school of all places, trying to be a productive member of society. I mean, waking up at 6:30 am every day? Who in their right mind thought this is a good idea?

Mom said that I need to catch up with my studies, but couldn’t she just hire a tutor and home-school me instead? Sure, it gets lonely. But I rather have that than have to wake up feeling sluggish and sleep-deprived. She probably wanted me to socialise a lot more.

But you see, dear mother, that’s where the problem lies. I am now in an environment where nobody knows or even acknowledges me. How am I supposed to make friends here? What do I say to them?

It’s not like I didn’t try, but every time I did, they always have this sense of uncertainty, like I am someone that should stay away from. A bad influence, a weirdo, a creep, as they whisper among themselves. 

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Another sigh. Schools are not supposed to be like this from what I recall. It used to be different back then. Meeting new friends, learning new and interesting stuff, the fun activities we have every day. It felt like a second home to us. At least, to me. Sure, I spend most of my time daydreaming, but it was because of how comforting it was to be there.

But now, gone are the warm feeling I was accustomed to, leaving only the cold metallic touch of rusted tables. The sound of markers screeching pierces through the dreaded atmosphere. There is no longer ‘we’ or ‘us’, only ‘I’ and ‘you’. Even the teachers seem to be struggling to keep up a happy face.

Is this how growing up feels like? Is this really the reality I choose?

Did I…do the right thing?

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It has to be, right?

“Sunny?”

A voice pulls me from my thoughts, sending me back to reality. I look towards the source and found the teacher, looking at me with concern in her eyes. Did she just call my name? I am more surprised she even remembers it. I never tried to stand out from the crowd, or put myself out there. If this is a TV show, then I would simply be an extra or a background character. No one remembers those sorts of people. They could disappear from the face of the earth and nobody would bat an eye.

“No one cares about you.”

Not now, brain.

“Could you please read this passage for us? The one on page 49?”

I silently nod, not even bothering to give a reply. It seems like my teacher knows that I was sort of…not here. Why didn’t she say anything? A question for another time, I suppose. I stand up, holding the book right close to my face, and start to read.

“Believe it or not, the act of recycling can bring many benefits to our Earth. One of them is—”

“s…s…s…”

This is why I hate it when any teacher picks my name.

“s-s-save the e-e-envi…en…”

“HAHAHAH OH MY GOD HE CAN’T READ HAHHAHA!”

Laughter. A cure for sadness, as they say, is made to bring joy and happiness to everyone around it.

What a load of bullcrap.

“Class! I don’t appreciate the way you’re treating him!”

Poor teacher. She is trying her best, but her words are drowning in a sea of laughter.

Stupid, stupid, stupid me. Why are you so useless? It’s just reading. READING! Anyone can do that.  So why can’t I?

“s-s-save the e-e-en…”

I force myself to vomit out the words, but it just won’t come out.

The laughter fills my ears. My chest starts to hurt, my knees beginning to betray me. I am drowning in this sea of anxiety, gasping for air. I can’t even see the text properly now; my vision is blurred by watery liquids.

No, no stop this. Stop crying. Why am I crying over something as simple as this? 

“THAT’S ENOUGH, EVERYONE! It’s okay, Sunny. You can sit down now.”

I return to my seat, hanging my head down. I hate this. Why do I have to embarrass myself in such a way? Why am I so incapable of doing easy tasks? It’s just a sentence. It would take no effort from anyone, yet it feels like a struggle to me.

“…”

“…woah, is he crying?”

“Pfft, hahahaha. What a goddamn loser.”

“He’s a boy, isn’t he? How pathetic.”

Ignore them. Ignore whatever words and insults they throw at you. Soon, they will forget about it, and life moves on.

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I find myself in the school bathroom, washing my hands after relieving myself. It is certainly what you expect from a typical boys’ toilet. Broken doors, weird drawings on the wall, mostly consist of vulgar humour and of course, the infamous stench coming out of this place.

Today couldn’t get any slower than this. It feels like an eternity, but the school’s finally over. I thought I have already gotten used to the constant jeering from others, but that incident proved me wrong.

I look at myself in the mirror. A skinny figure, scarily pale skin, a short height, and an eyepatch for the missing eye. Honestly, I can’t blame them. Someone like this is definitely asking to be made fun of.

An idea suddenly forms. Slowly, I curl my lips upwards, forming a shape of a smile. It’s small, but I prefer it that way. Having a wide grin will probably make my face look weird. Then, I furrow my eyebrows, showing off the meanest look I could.

It looks stupid, to be honest.

 I realise I have been in touch with my emotions, lately. If it’s a happy occasion, I can form a smile. If it’s a sad one, the tears come out easier. Not sure if it’s a good thing or not.

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It is time for me to go home. The sooner I am away from this place, the better. Then, I have to be here again the next day. Honestly, what is the point of me coming here if all I got are constant harassment? Isn’t a school supposed to be a safe place for learning knowledge?

I am walking down the hallway, making my way towards the exit, before I hear a voice from behind approaching me.

“Out of the way, shorty!”

Just before I could turn around, a forceful shove pushes me down to the ground, forcing me to take in the smell of shoe soles. Naturally, I make an effort to stand up, but it seems like someone wants me to kiss the dirt for a while. Not like this is the first time ever.

This person then proudly put his shoes on my back, stepping on it a few times, earning praises and cheers from his friends. Another dirty uniform, I say to myself. One of these days, Mom is going to grow suspicious of me. But I don’t have the courage to tell her the truth. The last thing I want to do is give her more burden than she already has.

And also, deep down, I deserve this. Me being humiliated, made fun of, all of it.

“Bro, I can’t believe he fell just like that. You don’t push him that hard, do you, Mike?”

I heard that name before. This Mike person, probably one of my classmates. He rarely attends class so I can’t exactly recall how he looks like.

What does he even want with me? I never disturb him, nor call him names. Does my existence really irritate him that much?

“Is he crying? We didn’t even push you that hard. What a drama queen.”

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I thought I was strong. I thought everything would be fine as long as I believe in myself, as long as I keep pushing forward. But I guess even that is asking too much.

I don’t want to go on. What’s the point of continuing if I have to suffer like this? What do I get in return? If I knew it would turn out like this…

…then I would rather stay in that void for the rest of my life.

The voices begin to drown in silence. Slowly, I feel reality itself starts to shift. I no longer feel the stomping feet nor the cold floor. My mind is taking me somewhere. Somewhere safe…

“Welcome to White Space. You have been here for as long as you—”

THUD!!

Fate is really cruel and twisted. As if it isn’t satisfied torturing me, here I am back in reality. The next thing I know, I am being pushed against the lockers, the loud banging sound falls to deaf ears. No one is here, after all. Someone is grabbing me by the collar, probably this Mike person. His gnarly face is uncomfortably close to mine. I, my pathetic self could do nothing but wait for his next actions.

“Listen here, kid.” He snarled. “Don’t think just because you act soft and cry like a bitch, everyone would take sympathy on you. Over time, people will get sick of it, and you have no one to blame but yourself. This world is harsh, and it got no place for crybabies like you.”

My mind tries to send me back into the white void, before a sharp pain lands at my cheek, anchoring me to reality. It hurts.

“Hey come on now. Didn’t your mommy ever tell you to listen to people when they talk?”

“Alright, Mike, I think he has it enough.” One of his friends voices his concern, before someone else chimes in. “C’mon, dude. He’s just getting started.”

With a wide grin on his face, Mike turns his attention elsewhere. Somewhere I wish he did not. “What’s up with this eyepatch, hmm? Think you’re hot shit, huh? Trying to be different from everyone else!?”

He forcibly grabs the eyepatch and snatches it away, revealing my past, my sins, my shame. At that point, I no longer feel anything. Pain, anger, not even sadness. Whatever strength I have left disappears as I fall to the ground, surrendering myself to whatever these guys will do.

These guys are right. I am weak, pathetic, and useless. I wish I could fight back, or even scream for help. But what’s the point if everything that they said is true? Why bother denying the truth?

Somehow, Mike is even more pissed at my motionless behaviour. “What a waste of time. Guys like you don’t deserve any sort of attention. The sooner you rot, the better.” Feeling like he has nothing to say, he and his friends walk away, leaving me to drown in self-pity all by myself.

Poor Sunny, he can’t defend himself.

Poor Sunny, he can’t stand up for himself.

Poor Sunny, he can’t live for himself.

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Dragging myself out of the school, Mike’s words keep buzzing in my ears, reminding me of how weak I was handling that situation. Thinking back on it, I was never the kind to fight back. It was always my friends who defended me, although Kel and Aubrey got a bit physical sometimes.

“…”

Tears begin to roll on my cheeks once more. Call me whatever you want, but I do miss them. Kel’s wholesome energy, Aubrey’s admirable strength, even Basil’s bright smile. I hate myself for feeling like this, but at this point, nothing matters anymore. All I want is to see them again.

I just can’t hold it back any longer.

I hastily reach for my phone, searching through the contact lists as fast as I could. My fingers are shaking as I try my best to remain calm, but the longer I put this off, the worse it gets.

Sure enough, those three names appear on the screen once more.

I stare at it for a few seconds. Just press the dial button. Didn’t you promise to call them every now and then? You know they would never betray you. Kel, Basil, and Aubrey, these three would always listen to your troubles. Even after four years of separation, the bonds between us are as strong as ever.

So, why can’t I press it?

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There it is again. That feeling of being watched. The pixels turn to small eyes once more, looking at me. Staring at me. Waiting for something to happen.

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Something within speaks to me. How can I be so sure that they really forgive me? I mean, they could just be pretending to be nice, since I’m leaving and all. Anyone can put up a mask if they want to.

Do they…really forgive me? Or is it just out of sympathy?

Was it genuine in the first place?

If it was not, then I don’t have the right to call them.

They probably are enjoying their lives a lot more, knowing that the one responsible for their misery is finally gone. If I call, it may just be an annoyance to them.

They probably don’t even remember me anymore.

And besides, the reason I told them the truth that day in the first place was to allow them to finally move on. And if me calling them might bring back sad memories…

…then I’m just being selfish, aren’t I?

Feeling reluctant, I put back my phone into my pocket, quickening my pace towards home. Being alone makes you an easy target, and I already have my fair share of beating today.

12 months left…

“Mom, can I…ask you something?” I ask in a fairly-low tone, still wondering whether the decision I’m about to take is right or not. The time is 7 pm, a fairly reasonable time to have dinner. The menu is simple fried noodles, nothing too fancy. It’s not like Mom has any free time to cook something special.

Mom who is sitting across me, pauses her eating for a moment, locking her eyes with mine. “Yes, dear?”

“Do you…remember what month it is?” My fork is twisting around the noodles, slowly wrapping itself with it, trying my best to distract myself from looking directly at her. Mom is quite gentle, but even she has those days where a single mishap can tick her off.

“Hmm, now’s October, isn’t it? Do you have any plans this month?” She rests her index finger on her chin, giving off the I’m-so-into-this-conversation vibe. Perhaps she’s happy I’m the one that starts a small talk? Usually, our dinner sessions go in silence.

“No, it’s just…” Ugh, why can’t she just take the hint? How am I supposed to approach this without offending her in the slightest? This topic is already touchy as it is. “it’s already that time of the year…”

She asks in a puzzled tone. “That time…”

“It’s already been 4 years…”

“4 years? Sorry dear, I’m not quite sure what you—”

“…oh.”

Silence. Her face changes into something with a more sorrowful expression, fully realising the intent of my question. I silently apologize to her, for it is not my intent to reopen old wounds.

That’s right. It has been 4 years.

4 years since the incident.

4 years of her not with us.

Now, it’s Mom’s turn to remain silent. She hangs her head down, staring at the brown hot noodles. It’s probably not as appetizing as before.

“Yeah, it really has been 4 years…time really does fly, doesn’t it, haha…” An attempt is made to lighten the mood, but the tension still remains, lingering around the small apartment room. She scoops her fork, trying to brush off the topic. “What about it, dear? I hope you already know that Mommy forgives you.”

I mimic her movements as well, swallowing the food. “Thanks, but there’s something more than that.” My chewing becomes slower, trying to stretch this as long as I can. What words do I use? What kind of mannerisms should I apply here? Should I go straight to the point, or dance around it a bit?

“I’m just thinking…of visiting…her…”

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I shouldn’t have gone straight to the point.

Mom stops her eating, her eyes looking straight to mine, a bewildered expression is worn on her tired face. It is not filled with care or anger, but simply nothing. An icy cold stare, revealing everything yet nothing at the same time. One that is hard to judge, and that’s the scariest part. An unpredictable outcome. I can feel chills running through my spine, fearing what might happen next.

“Sunny…what are you talking about?” A dried voice escapes from her lips, devoid of emotion. “You’re not being serious are you…?”

I return to my old habits, being neither proactive nor reactive, but to remain silent. I shut my lips tightly as I could, hanging my head down. It’s a coward’s way out, but I am already one.

Mom then leans back towards her chair, her gaze still fixated on me. “Do you know why we even move here? I thought I told you this already. So, we can move on. Start a new life, leaving the past behind and slowly build a new future.”

No words come out of my mouth.

“Do you have any idea how hard I work day and night, surveying through every nook and cranny of this dumpster of a city just so I could find this apartment!?”

Her voice raises as she continues, making me cower a bit. I start to hear ringing in my ears, my chest is tightening due to fear. Clawing at every single bit of courage I have left, I take deep breaths, calming down my senses.

“And now after everything I did, you’re here telling me you want to…to go back!?”

It failed. Her voice goes straight through my heart, stabbing it with no mercy. I feel like something is pushing my head, no, my whole body down, forcing it to curl into a ball.

This is a mistake. All of this is a mistake. Why do I even open my mouth in the first place? Of course, Mom’s not going to be pleased with it. She did everything for me, and I just have to mess it up every single time.

Why am I so useless?

“SUNNY!” She slams her hand on the table, not satisfied with my silent treatment. ANSWER ME!”

“I just…want to see her…” A cowardly reply. I can even feel tears start to well on my eyelids.

“See her? And you think I would just let you go easily like that? I’m worried about you, Sunny!” Her voice shakes a little. “These past few months, I have never seen you happy even once! It’s always you being sad or miserable, sometimes both. I try to bring you to therapy, forcing you to go outside, but nothing works! You always stay the same.”

“I-I’m trying, but it’s just so…hard…”

“Oh, and going back to Faraway somehow will fix all of that!? What if something happens when you’re over there? What if you meet your friends again? What if that blonde kid does something to you again? Please, stop being selfish and think about your mother!”

Selfish…

Selfish…?

At that moment, something within me snaps.

“YOU’RE THE ONE THAT’S BEING SELFISH!”

Mom is taken aback. My heart is telling me to stop, but my emotions overflowed, revealing my feelings deep down. “I NEVER ASK TO MOVE HERE! YOU’RE THE ONE THAT’S MAKING ALL THE DECISIONS WITHOUT ASKING ME FIRST!”

She stands up, looking in fury. “I DID EVERYTHING FOR YOUR OWN GOOD!”

“HOW WOULD YOU KNOW? YOU LEFT ME TO ROT AT THAT HOME ALL BY MYSELF!”

“SUNNY!”

She raises her hand before abruptly stops, as she sees me instinctively cover my face, cowering in fear. Both of us gasping for air, tears running down our cheeks, realising what we have done.

I…raise my voice. Towards my mother, of all people. How could I have done such a thing?

This feeling, this moment…

It’s just like back then.

Mom wipes away her tears, still looking away from me. “I-I’m not letting you go back to Faraway. And that’s final. I don’t want to hear you mention anything about it.” She picks up her plate, bringing it to the sink. “Make sure you finish your food.”

I do nothing but emptily stare at my plate, the noodles are not even half-finished. Honestly, eating is the last thing I want to do. After some moments, I hear footsteps and a click sound of a door closing. There I am, all alone in the kitchen, pondering after the things I just said.

Good job, Sunny. You just make everything worse for yourself. Ruin it even more, wouldn’t you?

I couldn’t sleep.

Midnight has engulfed this city in darkness, letting its residents drift away in dreams. Moonlight shined the quiet night through the cracks of the clouds, illuminating some of the stars far away from this earth. The sounds of the clock softly ticking and the fans spinning are the only ambient noises in this room of mine.

…

I couldn’t sleep.

I turn my body to the left side, trying to gain some comfort, but it is to no avail. I begin to feel restless. I turn to the opposite side, yet it results in the same. My legs feel so sweaty and itchy, even though my fan is set at max speed. I forcibly shut my eyes, drowning myself in happy thoughts.

…

I still couldn’t sleep.

This is getting annoying. The argument I had with Mom is probably the reason for all of this. Even now, I can still hear her voice, shaking in rage and grief. I groggily wake up, thinking of ways to let myself rest. Maybe a trip to the bathroom will do.

As I open my bedroom door, I just realise just how…dark our apartment room is. It’s pitch black. If you’re not familiar with the interior of this room, chances are you might accidentally trip. I could use my phone screen, but its brightness is not enough to use as a torch. Well, no choice but to rely on your senses. The toilet should not be that far now…

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…why am I still not there yet?

It feels like ages, but the toilet door has not even entered my sight. Have I been standing still this whole time, without moving even an inch? That’s impossible. I can feel my legs moving. So, why am I still not there?

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Is someone moving me instead?

No, no, that’s not true. Calm down, Sunny. You’re just overthinking things. Just go to the toilet, relieve yourself a bit, and go straight back to your room. You can do this.

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Someone’s watching me.

I don’t know who, but I can feel it. Someone, something out there, meekly watches my movement, silently observing my actions.

I turn my head towards the living room, which is totally cloaked in black.

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There’s nothing there. Just me here.

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…right?

Humans are afraid of many things. Death, heights, drowning…

But the one thing we all can agree on is that we are all afraid of the dark.

Why? Because we don’t know what’s in there. The unknown. Something we have absolutely no control in, leaving this sense of vulnerability.

And that is terrifying.

I shut my eyes while taking deep, deep breathes. Calm down. Breathe in. It’s not as scary as you think. It’s not scary as you think. It’s not as scary as you think. Breathe out.

I slowly open my eyes. The toilet door is still not within my reach.

I turn my head towards the living room once more.

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Someone’s standing there.

Looking at me.

Among the darkness, there it stood.

A demon.

A white gown.

Empty eye sockets.

A wide-gaping mouth.

A broken, elongated neck.

Long, stringy black hair.

It begins to twitch.

Its head moves in an inhuman form.

It moves slowly.

Slowly.

Slowly.

Towards me.

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It lunges forward.

…

The next thing I know, I am on top of my bed, curling myself into a ball while covering my whole body with a blanket.

Please fall asleep. Please fall asleep. Please fall asleep. Please fall asleep. Please fall asleep. Please fall asleep. Please fall asleep. Please fall asleep. Please fall asleep. Please fall asleep. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. It’s not as scary as you think. It’s not as scary as you think. It’s not as scary as you think. It’s not as scary as you—

…

It’s useless. I can’t calm down. I can’t focus. I can’t persist. My body feels so cold. Very, very cold.

Someone. Anyone. Please help me.

Mom’s just next door. It’s a bit embarrassing to ask her to accompany me, but surely, she can help me.

…

…

…no, I shouldn’t.

We just had an argument a few hours ago. She probably needs some more time for herself.

Why do I keep making things hard for myself?

“You are such a burden to everyone around you.”

“…!”

“Poor mother has to spend most of her time handling someone like you. You, who couldn’t even take care of yourself.”

“…”

“She could have done so many other things. She could have used her money to spend on things she like. Things that could make her happy. But instead, all of it is wasted on you.”

No…

“Grow up for once. Stop being a burden to everyone. You’re wasting their time.”

Shut up.

“Everything you did was useless. You can never do anything right. Even if you try, you will always fail at the end.”

Shut up.

“If you don’t want to bother people with your incompetence, it would be better to just—”

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

I grip my ears, forcing it to block any sort of noise, yet the ringing keeps getting louder. The sheets of my bed are already dampened with my tears. I feel the pain coming from my teeth due to gritting them so hard.

I need to calm down. But how?

…

That’s right. The antidepressants. The doctor said to use it every time I have a panic attack.

I reach for it at my nightstand. Good. Now, I just need some water—

No…it’s not here. I don’t have a water bottle with me.

Which means…I have to go out of the room.

…

No, I can’t do that. Not after that. I just can’t.

I find myself struggling to breathe. My body is soaking with sweat. My chest hurts like it’s about to burst at any moment.

If only Mari is here…

If only Kel is here…

If only Hero is here…

…

In an instant, I reach out for my phone. My thumbs are shaking as I navigate through the menu once more, finding their contact lists.

There it is again. Those three names are displayed on the screen. Waiting for something to happen.

Once more, small eyes pop up at the screen, staring at me.

Something…is staring at me through this phone.

This thing…could they be the reason behind all of this?

…

No.

No more.

I am tired of this.

I am sick and fed up with this wishy-washy attitude these past few months.

Reconnecting? Stay in touch? To hell with those! Because of you, I have been struggling all this time. Because of you, I have been clinging to the past.

The things that happened today, all of this wouldn’t have occurred if I had just moved on. If I just forget about them.

And if removing you means that I can finally move forward…

Then I…!

…

…

…

…

…

I throw my phone as hard as I could, letting it crashes the cold, hard floor. I lie down on my back, my arm over my eyes, as tears roll down my cheeks. Sobs and cries fill the silence of the room.

Idiot. Stupid. Foolish.

What have I done?

Did I really just do that?

…

How can I call them ever again?

Ah…

I don’t care anymore.

I’m tired. So, so, tired.

I just want to sleep.

And drift away…

Drift…away…