Darkness.
A silence so complete, it felt like the world itself had stopped breathing.
But within me—
Within my chest—
A scream.
Wild, suffocating, endless.
A roar only I could hear.
"My life... it was never meant to be like this…"
My voice shattered the silence like glass underfoot—fragile, trembling. Words barely formed before they fell apart, lost in the void.
"Not like this… not like before…"
I clawed at my head, fingers curled tight like talons, nails digging into my scalp until fire bloomed under my skin. If I could just tear them out—the memories, the faces, the screams—maybe I could breathe again.
"I wish… it was me…"
Each syllable scraped my throat raw, like I was coughing up blades.
And then—
I broke.
"WHY?! WHY COULDN'T IT BE ME?!"
The scream erupted like a beast unleashed, guttural and bloody, ripping its way out of the cage in my chest. My legs gave out, knees crashing into the dirt, the ground spinning, tilting, trying to throw me off the world.
The sky looked down, cold and indifferent.
Stars blinked like eyes that refused to close, that refused to cry for me.
"I'm all alone…"
The words weren't spoken—they spilled. A hollow whisper, dry and dying.
"No one to cry for me… no one to call my name…"
"NO ONE!! NO ONE!!!"
My fists slammed into the earth, over and over and over—until skin tore, blood gushed, and pain vanished behind the veil of something worse.
"I HATE THIS!!!"
I screamed at the sky. At the frozen stars. At a god that wouldn't answer.
> "It should've been me! IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME!!"
The world tilted again. My heart was a war drum in my ears. A deafening, ceaseless pounding.
"WHY?! WHY CAN'T IT BE ME!?"
Tears turned the world into smears of gray and red, the earth and sky bleeding into one another. My hands trembled, soaked in crimson and dirt. My body collapsed—no strength left. Just ruin.
"I swore… I swore to the heavens…"
My voice cracked. A breath, then a growl. A cry, then a curse.
"I believed! I trusted you!"
I raised my face, streaked in blood and mud, to the heavens. A boy—no, a corpse—with a heartbeat.
"You said you loved us…"
"You said you'd protect us…"
The sob came like thunder. Unstoppable. Merciless.
"And you let this happen!!"
"I HATE YOU!!!"
I screamed until my throat tore apart. Until my lungs burned. Until even screaming became useless.
I clawed at the dirt like I wanted to dig my own grave, tears and rain washing away the blood but not the grief.
"Why…?"
The question was nothing now. A whisper adrift in an empty world.
No answer.
Only silence.
Only that ache. That bottomless, devouring ache.
So I ran.
Nowhere.
Everywhere.
Just forward.
Just away.
Thorns tore at my skin. Rocks slashed my feet. The pain meant nothing. My body didn't belong to me anymore—it was just a husk moving on instinct.
And then—the sky broke.
Rain.
Like knives.
Like judgment.
Lightning ripped the heavens open. Thunder slammed against the earth like a heartbeat louder than my own. Wind howled, a scream that mirrored mine. The trees lunged with wooden claws, stripping skin, tearing cloth, lashing until I was nothing but wounds.
But nothing—nothing—was louder than the storm inside me.
The storm of loss.
Of rage.
Of hate.
Maybe this was divine punishment.
Maybe I deserved it.
Let it come.
Let it devour me.
They took everything.
EVERYTHING.
And I?
I was just a ghost still walking.
"I want it to end…"
The words came, again and again.
"I want to disappear…"
"I want silence…"
And then—
Light.
Blinding.
Dozens of beams tearing through the trees.
I froze. Eyes wide. Panic slicing through the haze.
I didn't want to be seen.
I didn't want to be saved.
I wanted to escape—to vanish from this world forever!
"I DON'T WANT THIS LIFE!! I DON'T WANT TO EXIST LIKE THIS!!"
I ran again.
But the world had other plans.
The ground—gone.
A drop.
A scream.
I fell.
Tumbling.
Crashing.
Stones split flesh, shattered bone. Branches flayed me raw. Every second was a new agony.
And then—
A CRACK.
Skull.
Bone.
Darkness.
So deep, so total—it was almost warm.
___________
It was darkness , a nevr ending darkness
Then --
A bright light.
It wasn't salvation.
It wasn't death.
It was nothingness—erasure masquerading as a second chance.
Then: silence.
Not peace. Not rest.
A choking silence—like grief that never got the chance to scream.
I existed.
Or I thought I did.
There was no body, no ground beneath my feet. No sky. No air. Just awareness. A drifting consciousness in a place untouched by time.
Then it came.
A voice.
My voice.
But not mine.
"Again," it said. Not a whisper. Not a shout. A flat tone, cold and hollow.
I didn't respond.
"Back again," it said, harsher now. "Didn't expect to see you here. Oh wait—that's a lie."
My throat burned, but I had no throat.
"Who are you?" I rasped.
It laughed. No amusement. Just dust and decay. "Don't insult me. You know who I am. Don't pretend. We've been through this."
The silence surged like a tide. Then it spoke again.
"I'm what's left. After you scraped the rest of yourself away."
I tried to scream, but no sound came.
"You thought you buried me. With the blades. The pills. The prayers to a god you hate."
I flinched. That word. Hate.
"You cursed Him, remember?" it hissed. "Said if He was real, He'd be cruel. Or worse—silent."
I shook my head. I hadn't meant it.
"You meant every word. Every time you said, 'I'm tired.' Every time you lied through your teeth and smiled like a coward. Every second you stared at the ceiling hoping for the pain to just… vanish."
My chest ached. I remembered that ceiling. The cracks like roads leading nowhere.
"You wanted to end it. And now here you are."
"I—I didn't…"
"Didn't what? Didn't want to die? Then why the plan? Why the letters you never sent? Why the final message deleted five times before you swallowed it down like poison?"
"I was scared."
"Of living. Not dying."
I fell—though there was no floor. My soul just collapsed, inward.
"You wanted to disappear. And now you want answers?"
I didn't reply. Couldn't.
The voice crept closer. I felt it in my mind. My marrow. My everything.
"You buried it all," it murmured. "The anger. The pain. The shame. Every scar. Every fake laugh. Every hour staring at your reflection wondering why you looked so alive when you felt so dead."
I wanted it to stop.
"No. You don't get silence now. Not after gagging every scream and branding it as weakness."
Tears burned behind my eyes—but they wouldn't fall. Even sorrow was stripped away.
"You remember the nights, don't you?"
I nodded. Or imagined I did.
"The nights where you begged—not to God, but to nothing. Because that's what you believed you deserved. Nothing."
It circled. I couldn't see it—but I felt its orbit, like gravity made of memory.
"You rehearsed your ending like it was a monologue. Like the final act in a tragedy no one would watch."
I opened my mouth. Nothing.
"You wanted silence."
Yes.
"You loved silence. Because sound meant someone was still near. And you couldn't bear to be seen."
My voice—gone.
"You thought you were strong. Hiding it all. Carrying it until your spine buckled and your soul collapsed."
I wanted to cry.
"You called it bravery. But it was just fear dressed in armor made of pride."
The silence cracked. Not sound—but pressure.
"You left no note. Because you didn't think you were worth remembering."
My chest caved.
"And now you want to say something?"
I tried.
"You want to scream? Apologize? Explain?"
I did.
"Too late."
It spoke, slower now. Deadly calm.
"You abandoned you. That's what hurts the most. Not the people. Not the pain. But the fact that you gave up on yourself."
I trembled. Every thought was static.
"I'm not your enemy," it said.
I gasped. Was this mercy?
"I'm you. The part that watched everything burn. The part you locked in the dark and fed with silence. The part that never forgot."
Then it thundered:
"AND I WILL NOT LET YOU FORGET."
The void screamed.
Memories exploded.
The hospital light. The fake smiles. The cold bathroom tile. The crushed pills. The mirror smeared with fog and blood and shame.
"You did all that. For what?"
I collapsed again.
"For silence?"
My voice returned for a second. Barely. "I didn't know what else to do…"
"Liar. You knew. You just didn't believe it was enough."
A pause.
"You were enough. But you never believed it."
Then it whispered—soft, broken, like it hated what it had to say.
"And now… neither do I."
The silence returned.
But this time, it wasn't numb.
It ached.
I wanted the voice to come back.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted anything but this.
But that was the price.
Because I'd asked for it.
And now I had it.
Forever.
________
I'm still here.
I'm still in this never-ending void of darkness.
No escape.
No return.
No. Nothing.
Is this what I am now? For the rest of eternity?
Pure silence. Pure nothing.
Nothing but me. Floating into a never-ending darkness.
Not a soul. Not a cry. Nothing.
Was this the final judgment?
Is this what I really wanted?
I wanted to disappear when I was still in the world of the living. So this is what it meant?
Disappeared. Yet I'm here. But everything else is gone.
No light. No sound. No peace. No war. Pure nothing.
I can't hear my voice. My ears bleeding from the loud quietness.
My eyes feel like they're out of their mind, constantly rolling as if trying to find a light.
My breath. Slowly but surely running out of air to breathe.
I'm dying. I'm dying softly. Yet painfully.
And as the final air enters my lungs. The last breath. That last inhale... Then. Nothing.
Choke.
My lungs screaming to breathe. My body started to twitch. My head started to hurt. I can't see yet I feel everything. I'm choking, yet I'm in a blind state.
This is...
This is it...
Till—
Bbeeepppp.
A sound.
No, not just a sound. A crack in the absolute silence.
A ripple in the eternal stillness.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Sharp, mechanical. Clinical.
The sound vibrated through the void, through my skull, through my very bones—if I still had bones.
It dragged my mind from the bottom of an ocean of numbness and pulled me up, up, gasping.
A blinding light pierced the dark.
Not warm. Not holy.
Cold. White. Too white. Too bright.
It seared into my retinas—if I still had eyes.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The rhythm pounded. Too fast. Too real. Too much.
Shadows moved.
Not figures. Not faces.
Shapes. Blurs. Echoes of things I couldn't recognize.
They loomed.
Too close.
Too far.
Moving. Standing still.
I couldn't tell.
I wanted to scream, but there was no voice.
My throat was dry, sandpaper and static. My mouth opened and nothing came out.
No words. No breath. Just the taste of metal and regret.
My body was lead. Heavy. Anchored to a bed of wires and whispers.
My hands twitched—barely.
Did they see me?
Did they know I was awake?
No. No. Stay still. Stay silent.
I wasn't ready.
Because the last thing I remembered was the void.
And the voice.
My voice. Not mine.
You wanted this.
The beeping grew louder. Faster. Urgent.
A hiss. Something cold flowed into my veins. Ice and numbness.
I gasped.
I didn't mean to.
But the body remembered. Even when the soul didn't.
A hand. On my chest.
Pressing.
Another shadow leaning close.
Mouths moving. No sound.
Eyes. I could feel them. Studying. Judging. Panicking?
Light above. Too close. Like a star falling just for me.
Was this the afterlife?
Or a punishment worse?
No fire. No brimstone.
Just white.
Sterile. Empty. Scrubbed clean of meaning.
Was this heaven?
Or a trap?
I blinked. Once. Twice.
Pain. Real pain. Shot down my spine like lightning.
The beeping screamed.
BEEEEEEP—
Then silence again.
They did something. Shadows moving fast. Yells. Still no words. Still no sound I could make sense of.
I wanted to curl up. To vanish. But I couldn't move.
The weight was back.
The void was gone. But it left something in its place.
Something worse.
Awareness.
Awareness of the body. Of the pain. Of the breath I didn't ask for. The light I didn't want. The life I didn't earn.
I thought I was done.
I thought it was over.
Wasn't that what I wanted?
To disappear?
To become nothing?
Yet here I was. Feeling everything.
Everything I tried to bury.
Every scream I never let out.
Every night I closed my eyes hoping not to open them again.
But I opened them.
And now I couldn't close them.
The light was seared into my mind.
And the beeping...
Like a metronome counting down to a truth I didn't want.
It wasn't over.
It never was.
The silence was gone.
But the voice...
It lingered.
Not in sound.
In memory.
You rehearsed this ending for years.
I tried to scream, but only air escaped.
You wanted silence.
And now you drown in it.
I saw a face. Finally. One shadow turned into something human.
Eyes wide. A mask over the mouth. Gloved hands.
Was it fear in their eyes?
Or pity?
Which was worse?
I wanted to close my eyes again.
To return to the dark.
To the numb.
To the nothing.
But the light held me captive.
And the beeping... it wouldn't stop.
I think I cried.
I don't remember the tears.
Only the weight of them.
Like gravity remembered I existed.
Like the world wasn't done with me yet.
But I was done with it.
Wasn't I?
My fingers twitched again.
Not a willful motion. Reflex. Instinct.
Proof that something still worked.
Even if I didn't want it to.
The face leaned closer.
Mouth moved.
I tried to listen.
But all I heard was the voice.
Because you already gave up everything.
I blinked.
And in that blink, I remembered the void.
I remembered the silence that screamed.
And I remembered the part of me that brought me there.
That still lingered in the edges of this white light.
Watching.
Waiting.
Not to help me.
But to remind me.
To judge me.
To never let me forget.