The bus ride home felt longer than usual. The city passed by in blurs of gray and muted lights, and the hum of the engine was the only sound breaking through the thick silence in my head. My body was tired, but my mind wouldn't stop racing, replaying the day's events. Or rather, replaying that one moment with the boy. His hollow eyes, his outstretched hand—they haunted me.
I shifted in my seat, staring out of the window, trying to lose myself in the passing scenery. But it didn't work. I could still feel the weight of the coins as I'd dropped them into his palm, a feeling that shouldn't have mattered as much as it did. I shouldn't care. Not anymore.
And yet, here I was, stuck in my own thoughts, unable to shake the unease.
The bus came to a stop, and I shuffled off with the rest of the passengers, making my way down the crowded street. The cold air bit at my skin, but I barely felt it. My feet moved out of habit, taking me down the same worn-out path, past the same crumbling buildings, and toward the same lonely apartment I'd been returning to for years.
The door creaked open, and the stillness inside greeted me like an old friend. No noise, no distractions—just the silence I'd come to expect. It should've been comforting, but tonight, it wasn't. Tonight, it felt suffocating.
I tossed my bag on the floor and collapsed onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling, my mind still turning over the same question it always did: Where did it all go wrong?
But tonight, another question nagged at me, one I didn't want to face. Was I really any better off than that boy?
I sighed, rubbing my hands over my face, trying to shake off the thought. It was ridiculous, wasn't it? Of course, I was better off. I had a job, a place to live, food in the fridge. But the more I tried to convince myself, the less I believed it. That gnawing emptiness inside me, the feeling of being stuck in a life that didn't feel like mine anymore—was that any different from begging?
I could almost hear the boy's voice in my head, whispering, "Spare some change, sir?" And wasn't that what I was doing? Begging for some kind of change, some kind of escape from the monotony of this existence?
I stood up abruptly, the sudden motion making my head spin. I needed to get out of here, needed air, space, something. I grabbed my coat and headed out the door, letting it slam behind me. The cold night air hit me hard, but it was a welcome distraction from the storm inside my mind.
The streets were quieter now, the rush of the day giving way to the calm of the evening. I wandered aimlessly, my footsteps echoing off the pavement. The city, usually buzzing with life, felt empty. Or maybe it was just me.
I found myself by the bridge, leaning against the railing, looking down at the dark water below. The lights of the city shimmered on the surface, distorting into long, twisted reflections. I watched them for a while, trying to lose myself in the patterns, trying to escape the thoughts chasing me.
But they wouldn't let me go. They never did.
"Just where did it all go wrong?" I muttered under my breath. The question hung in the air, unanswered as always. But tonight, it felt heavier, more pressing. The boy's face flashed in my mind again, and I wondered if he ever asked himself the same question.
Maybe we were all just trying to figure out where it went wrong. Maybe none of us ever really found the answer.
I stayed there for a long time, the weight of the silence pressing down on me, until finally, I turned and walked away, back to the same life, the same routine, the same cycle.
But something had changed. I just didn't know what yet.