"People are cruel," a voice echoed softly—distant, yet familiar. Visions twisted through the dark. Screams—screams everywhere. That's all I could hear.
Why? Why me?
The screaming warped into laughter, sharp and mocking. Why does everyone hate me? What have I done? Faces I knew melted into smiles of betrayal. Hypocrites. Liars. Victims who had never suffered.
I tried to speak, but my voice drowned in the noise. Then I saw him—standing among them, eyes wide and helpless. I reached out, desperate, but his image dissolved, swallowed by the dark.
The voice returned, quieter now, curling around my mind like smoke.
"You too are guilty."
"Cassian!"
I jolted awake, the nightmare snapping like a stretched cord. My body was stiff, the air cold and sterile. The room smelled of antiseptic, loneliness, and metal. Machines beeped softly in the background—a slow, steady pulse that felt too alive for a place like this.
I blinked, forcing my eyes to focus. Hospital walls. Faded posters. Pale light leaking through blinds. Then the voice again, this time near, real.
"Cassian, what's wrong?"
I turned my head and exhaled. "Sorry. I… dozed off."
"Don't scare me like that," he said with a nervous chuckle. "You were out cold. I thought you'd passed out again."
Luca Altair—my best friend, my only friend—was always the one worrying. Ironic, considering he was the one trapped here week after week. Somehow, even lying in a hospital gown, hooked to monitors, he still found a way to care about everyone else. Especially me.
A nurse called out from across the room.
"Luca Altair! Dr. Horace is ready to see you now."
Luca stood, placing his worn paperback on the chair beside me. "I'll be back soon. Don't wander off, alright?"
"I'll stay put," I said, forcing a faint grin.
He nodded and disappeared into the doctor's office. The door clicked shut. I exhaled again, leaning back against the chair. That same quiet settled—the kind that hums with fluorescent lights and tired hearts.
Then I heard it. Whispering. Laughter.
Two nurses, standing by the counter. Their voices carried, careless and sharp.
"That old guy was so fat, all four of us could barely lift him onto the bed."
"Yeah, my hands still feel disgusting from touching his sweaty skin."
They laughed loudly, as though no one else existed. I tried to drown them out and looked up at the boxy TV bolted to the wall. Grainy footage flickered: military strikes against some small Middle Eastern country most people couldn't even find on a map.
Freedom, they said. But all I saw was smoke, bodies, and pride dressed as justice.
My gaze drifted to the vending machines. A mother scolded her daughter for making noise, oblivious that her voice echoed louder than the child's. Hypocrisy everywhere—global and personal. It exhausted me.
I closed my eyes, hoping for a brief escape.
A hand on my shoulder startled me awake. Luca's face hovered above mine—pale, nervous, smiling weakly.
"So," I said, rubbing my eyes, "what'd the doctor say?"
He hesitated, fidgeting with his phone. "Oh… nothing. Just the usual. Anyway, my parents texted—they said we could grab lunch on the way home since they're still at work."
"Honestly, I'm not hungry. But if you want something from the convenience store, we can."
"I don't have an appetite either. I just… want to rest."
That made me look up. Luca never turned down food, especially after an appointment. But I didn't push.
"Well, that makes both of us. Let's hurry before we miss the next train."
Around noon, we finally left that horrid place they call a hospital. Usually, Luca was right beside me—talking, laughing, filling the silence with life. Today, he walked a few steps behind, head down, hands buried in his pockets, kicking a small rock along the cracked sidewalk.
The sound irritated me. "What's wrong with you, Luca? You've been quiet since you saw the doctor."
He mumbled something I couldn't make out.
"You know you can tell me anything, right? I come with you every week. The least you can do is talk to me."
"I know… I know. Thank you. I just—can't say it right now. It's too… I don't know."
He trailed off, but that confirmed it. The doctor had said something—something bad. I didn't want to show it, but my chest tightened. Luca didn't deserve any of this. He was talented, kind, brilliant—a gentle soul in a world that devoured them first.
And yet, I felt… betrayed.
We walked in silence for fifteen minutes. When we reached the train station, we boarded and sat apart, the rattle of the tracks replacing our words. He sank into his novel; I let him drift there.
By the time we reached home, he went straight to our room without saying a word. I sat on the couch, flipping through the TV channels until one title froze me in place:
"The Ice Wall — The Barrier Beyond the World."
The same words from my dream.
I didn't know why, but something inside me whispered—
This is where it begins.
A man on the screen shouted with wild conviction about a world hidden beyond an ice barrier. He claimed Earth was three times larger than known, that governments had struck secret treaties with lands unseen. It sounded insane—yet something inside me wanted it to be true. A place untouched by cruelty. A world where happiness wasn't borrowed, but real.
After what felt like an eternity, the front door swung open. I assumed it was his parents. Footsteps. Voices. I met Luca in the hallway; our shoulders brushed. His eyes were dim, hollow. He walked past me without a word. I collapsed onto my mattress, staring at the ceiling until my stomach twisted with hunger.
I got up, heading for the kitchen—then froze.
Luca's voice drifted from the living room, trembling. "Mom, Dad… can you sit down for a second?"
His mother's tone was light, almost nervous. "What is it, sweetheart?"
"I… I have cancer."
The words hit like glass breaking.
His mother screamed, sobbing uncontrollably. I leaned against the wall, the air draining from my lungs. My mind blurred. My heartbeat thundered in my chest. Luca didn't deserve this. Not him.
His father said nothing. He just stood, face blank, and walked away. No sorrow. No anger. Just silence. He locked himself in his office.
"Coward!" Luca's mother screamed, pounding on the door. "How can you walk away from your son like that?!"
"Shut up, you stupid bitch!"
Their voices tore through the house. Luca sat at the table, shaking, head buried in his arms.
"Please stop… please stop…" he whispered over and over.
I couldn't move. I couldn't think. The noise was suffocating. Finally, I walked to him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. His body trembled beneath my touch. Tears burned my eyes. I hated myself for being powerless.
Minutes passed. The yelling dulled into silence. Then glass shattered—his mother again, crying as she downed a bottle of wine.
"Luca," I whispered, "come on. Let's go to our room."
He nodded faintly. "Okay…"
As we walked down the hall, another bottle shattered behind us. He sat on his bed, curled into the corner, eyes empty. I sat beside him.
He leaned against my shoulder, wordless. The house felt heavier than ever.
"It's been a long day…" I murmured.
He didn't answer.
The air was cold and uncomfortable; the only light came from the full moon above me. Snow was falling, and I could see my house from a distance—it looked dead. I kept walking down the snow-covered sidewalk, feeling the sharp, cold air hit my lungs and watching the mist rise from my mouth. For some reason, my heart sped up the closer I got to the house.
I reached the front door and saw freshly made footprints in the snow leading up to it. My breathing grew heavy as I approached and saw it slightly open. My small hand reached for the doorknob and peeled the door open.
My eyes snapped open, greeted by a stream of sunlight pouring through the window. My heart pounded, and my breath came faster than usual.
"It's been a long time..." I whispered to myself.
I turned my head and saw Luca spread out beside me. I slowly raised my body to a sitting position. The house was quiet, which felt nice compared to last night.
"I wish things could be different," I murmured, wondering why everything always turned out this way. All I wanted was a life of happiness—a life without guilt, remorse, pain, or despair for everyone around me.
I looked at Luca, lying there peacefully, and wondered what he was dreaming about. Was he dreaming of the life I longed for, or was he trapped in the same nightmare of our reality?
But what am I even telling myself?
Without pain, there's no comfort.
Without guilt, no growth.
Without sadness, no joy.
Everything needs darkness.
I just hope one day I can bring meaning to someone's life—and they can bring it to mine.
It was summer, no school—just silence and time I didn't want. I almost missed the noise, the useless lessons, the crowded hallways. At least they kept my mind busy. Luca and I did our usual morning chores while his parents left early for work.
Afterward, I lay on the couch, eyes half-shut, one hand behind my head. I could feel him staring. When I opened my eyes, his face was right there, inches from mine.
I flinched back. "What the hell, Luca?"
He grinned—the first real smile I'd seen all day. "So, I was wondering if you wanted to go out."
"Go out where? There's nothing to do here."
"We could go to the old hiker point."
I groaned. "We haven't gone there in two years. And hiking sounds like hell right now."
"Please, Cassian. I miss that place. I just want to talk—somewhere quiet, somewhere with a view. It'd really help me."
The way he said it—soft, pleading—left me no room to refuse.
"Fine. But only for a bit. If we don't cook dinner before your parents get back, we're dead."
He brightened instantly, already halfway to the door. "Then hurry up!"
I dragged myself outside. The cold air bit my skin, the morning sun too bright to look at.
"Hurry up, Cass!" Luca called from halfway up the hill.
"I'm coming!" I yelled, breathless.
Halfway up, his voice rose again—urgent, excited. "Cass! You're gonna miss it!"
"Miss what?" I muttered, climbing the last few steps.
Then I saw it.
The sunrise—spilling light over the ocean, gilding the water with gold. It hit me harder than I wanted to admit.
"This is what you wanted to show me?" I asked, quieter than I meant to.
Luca smirked. "You like it. Don't lie."
We sat together at the cliff's edge. The world below shimmered, silent except for the wind. For a rare moment, everything felt still—almost peaceful.
Then his voice broke the quiet.
Soft. Gentle.
Almost afraid.
"Cassian… why do you want to kill yourself?"