She reached her cabin... the same cabin that now felt emptier than ever. As she opened the door, the warm air from the fireplace touched her skin—but she didn't feel it. She walked in slowly and just collapsed to the floor… her body gave up before her heart could. Her eyes wandered to the table—those photo frames of memories that felt like someone else's life now. The diary, still open at her wishlist, stared back at her like it was mocking her for dreaming at all. And the place where he lay… the blankets still holding the warmth of the moment she had tried to save him.
Then came the silence again.
That unbearable, haunting silence that she hated… the kind that didn't just echo in the room but screamed inside her mind. She could hear every voice in her head—loud and clear. Some kind, some cruel.
One whispered, "You did something good today… You saved him."
But the other voice—cold and sharp—cut through everything.
"It wasn't your life that mattered. It was his. Did you see how they ran to save him? How they all cared? Would anyone run for you like that if you were the one lying there?"
She stayed still.
No answer.
Not even from herself.
She looked up at the ceiling… eyes full, heart empty. That one thought returned again, just like it always did: If I disappeared, would anyone even notice?
And the silence answered.