Chapter Nine: Breaking Point
It wasn't one big thing that broke Feifei.
It was the accumulation.
The small dismissals.
The swallowed words.
The constant need to be "okay" so no one would worry, so no one would ask questions she couldn't answer.
By Friday afternoon, her chest felt tight in a way she couldn't ignore anymore.
The classroom felt too crowded. The air too thick. Every sound seemed sharper than usual—laughter scraping against her nerves, chairs dragging like they were too loud on purpose.
When the teacher turned to write on the board, Feifei quietly packed her bag.
No one noticed when she slipped out.
She didn't go home.
Instead, she walked behind the school building, past the library, to the narrow space where no one ever went. A low wall, a patch of dry grass, and silence.
She sat down slowly and hugged her knees to her chest.
Her breathing came uneven now.
In… out…
In… out…
But the pressure didn't ease.
Why am I like this?
Why can't I just be normal?
Her eyes burned, but she refused to cry. Crying would mean admitting she couldn't handle it anymore.
And she had to handle it.
Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time blurred.
Footsteps crunched softly nearby.
Feifei stiffened.
"Hey."
Kael's voice.
She didn't look up.
"I thought you'd be here," he said, not accusing. Just calm.
He lowered himself onto the ground beside her, leaving space. Always space.
They sat in silence, the kind that pressed but didn't suffocate.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," Feifei said suddenly. Her voice shook despite her effort to keep it steady. "I do everything right, but it still feels like I'm failing at being a person."
Kael didn't interrupt.
"I tried talking," she continued, staring at the ground. "And it made things worse. So now I feel stupid for even thinking someone would care."
Her throat tightened.
"I'm tired," she whispered. "I'm so tired of carrying everything alone."
Kael exhaled slowly.
"There's nothing wrong with you," he said. "You're just carrying more than you should."
She finally looked at him.
"How do you know?" she asked.
"Because I see it," he replied simply. "And because people who feel nothing don't question themselves like this."
Something cracked.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just enough for tears to slip free.
Feifei turned her face away quickly, embarrassed.
Kael didn't comment. Didn't stare.
He just stayed.
And for the first time during her breaking point, she wasn't alone in it.