I found myself standing in the corner of my old bedroom. He was there, at the desk. Me, at nineteen.
The big headphones were clamped over his ears. Downstairs, the familiar noise was playing, muffled shouts, the percussive slam of a door. He nudged the volume dial, a practiced, patient gesture. This was all temporary, he told himself. A layover. The plan was simple: save, escape, vanish. He hadn't yet learned that the noise isn't in the house.
His phone buzzed, a violent little insect on the wood. It was a text from Mark. "Finished your chapter. It's fascinating how you write with such... unburdened joy. Not every story needs to be heavy, you know?" Then Ben, a laughing emoji followed by: "Yeah, it's a real page-turner! Perfect for when you just want to turn off your brain."
I watched his eyes change then. His face went still. And at that moment, I saw it a flicker of the thing I’d become.
Yes, I hissed. There. Right there. See it. Don't you look away.
He knew. He saw right through their little game. The seed was right there, the same cold anger that now grows like a vine through my ribs.
Let it out, I begged him silently. Just once. Let it get out. Break the screen. Tell them to go to hell. It’s the only thing that will save you. But then he let it go. You could almost see him do it, watched the clarity drown in a wave of forced calm. You're too sensitive. You look for the worst in people. He put the headphones back on, sealing himself in with the very people who were teaching him to hate his own instincts. He swallowed the anger, and it became a stone in my gut, the foundation of this quiet apartment, the core of my quiet madness. He chose the lie, and I became the living proof of what that choice costs.
The memory bled away, and I was back. In my apartment. The one I live in alone. The silence here is absolute. It’s not the silence he wanted; it’s the silence of the excavation site after they’ve stopped digging, having found nothing.
He’s still back there, in that room, patiently deluding himself that he’s on his way.
And I am here.
Thanks for reading.
