The night was dark. Still.
The town of Velmire slept beneath its silence, unaware—or uncaring—of the pain tucked away behind a single glowing window. The rest of the neighborhood slumbered in peace. Except for one house.
C-143.
A place the neighbors had learned to fear.
They only called it one thing now: troubled.
Just days ago, the man of the house had been arrested—for murdering his wife. He almost killed his youngest son, too.
Since then, no one spoke of it.
They just watched. Avoided. Pretended not to hear.
Inside that house, only one person remained.
Kai.
Seventeen.
Bandaged and recently discharged from the hospital. His mother was still in a coma. His sister, who was legally responsible for him, hadn’t been home in three days.
His alarm buzzed in the dark.
A faint beep—sharp and lonely.
Kai clicked it off with his injured hand. He hadn’t slept.
He'd spent the entire night sitting on his bed. Silent. Unmoving.
Thinking about nothing.
And everything.
He rose, moving like a ghost across the cold floor, and stopped at the mirror.
A boy looked back at him—one he didn’t recognize.
Untrimmed black hair.
Brown eyes hollowed out by sleeplessness.
Skin pale and tired and thin.
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A face drained of all feeling.
He stared.
And hated.
Everything.
His face. His body. The skin that held him together. The bones beneath it. The voice he didn’t want. The thoughts he couldn’t escape.
He hated existing.
Without warning, he swung.
Fist into glass.
The mirror shattered with a crack that echoed too loud in the silence.
Blood slid down his knuckles, warm and slow.
He didn’t wince.
The pain felt good. Not pleasant, but present.
Real.
Grounding.
Right now, that was all he wanted.
To feel something.
Even if it was pain.
---
He stood there for what felt like hours.
The blood dripped onto the old wooden dresser.
He watched it paint dark stains, watched it soak into the grain.
Then, wordlessly, he began collecting the shards—pressing them into his palms, ignoring the sting, ignoring the fresh cuts.
They didn’t matter.
He didn’t matter.
He dropped them into the trash and walked back to his room.
Didn’t wash up.
Didn’t clean the blood.
Didn’t look back at the broken mirror.
He slid out of his nightclothes and pulled on the same wrinkled school uniform from yesterday.
Not because he wanted to go.
But because it meant escaping this house.
Even for a few hours.
Even if it meant nothing.
Downstairs, the house was quiet.
But it wasn’t peaceful.
It was hollow.
The air hung heavy, as if the walls themselves remembered the screaming.
The bruises.
The sound of bones against floors.
Everything about the space felt smaller than it used to. As if it was closing in. Folding over itself.
Photographs lined the hallway.
The ghosts of a family that once smiled.
A man with tired eyes.
A woman mid-laugh, her blonde hair caught in motion.
A teenage girl, blonde like her mother.
And in her arms—a young boy.
Brown hair. Big smile.
So alive.
Kai looked at that boy now and felt nothing but distance.
That boy was someone else.
Someone who hadn't yet been broken.
---
The kitchen was bare.
No breakfast. No effort.
Just a packet of crisps. A cup of instant ramen.
He ate a few chips with slow, forced chews—jaw aching like the act of living was too much effort.
Every motion—chewing, swallowing, breathing—felt mechanical.
Pointless.
He drank some water, grabbed his bag, and stepped outside.
He kept his head down.
He didn’t need to see them—the neighbors who peeked from curtains, who crossed the street when they saw him coming.
He already knew.
They saw him the same way they saw the house.
Cursed.
Something cracked. Something unfixable.
And truthfully...
So did he.
---
The walk to school felt eternal.
His body moved on its own.
Left.
Right.
Left again.
Each step heavier than the last.
Like walking through mud.
He didn’t know where the effort came from. He didn’t care.
It was just another day to survive.
Another silence to walk through.
The building emerged in the distance—Valedor High School.
Its shape rising like a mountain too tall to climb.
His pace slowed.
He stared ahead, empty.
And then… he looked up.
The crosswalk signal blinked red.
And down the road, a bus.
It wasn’t slowing.
It charged forward, engine growling, tires shrieking on asphalt.
Kai didn’t move.
He just watched.
Would it be that bad?
Would it hurt?
Would it finally end?
A stran
ge feeling flooded his chest—not fear, not panic.
Something... like release.
He took a step forward.
Eyes shut.
Breath held.
until he was yanked back by a firm hand.
