Tears streamed down Mia's cheeks, tracing wet paths down her pale face. Her body trembled as sobs wracked her frame, each breath shaky and uneven. Sara, standing frozen just a few feet away, couldn't tear her eyes away from her friend's distress.
"Mia?" Sara asked, her voice a mix of concern and confusion. "Are you okay?"
She repeated the question, her voice rising with each attempt, each time softer than the last. But Mia didn't respond. The room felt like it was closing in around them, the air thick with the weight of silence, broken only by the soft sound of Mia's weeping. The ticking of the wall clock grew louder in Sara's ears, the seconds stretching on as the silence between them deepened.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Mia's voice cracked through the stillness. "Ah, I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine, really," she said, her tone distant, as if the words didn't belong to her.
Her hands trembled as she wiped at her cheeks, as though brushing away the remnants of her emotions. She looked at Sara, but her gaze seemed to slip past her, unfocused, as though she were already somewhere else—somewhere far away from this moment.
"Actually," Mia continued, her voice growing more detached, "I had a lot I wanted to say to you. But never mind. I'll deal with it. Thanks… Thanks for everything." She gave a thin, hollow smile, the kind that didn't reach her eyes, and turned away.
Sara didn't know what to do, her chest tightening with helplessness. "Mia, wait—" she began, but the words caught in her throat. Mia didn't stop. She didn't even look back. Her retreating figure was a quiet departure, like the last spark of a flame before it flickered out entirely.
Sara stood there, rooted to the spot, her mind racing, her heart a mess of confusion and fear. What just happened? She didn't understand. Why had Mia suddenly closed off like that? The sound of Mia's soft footsteps on the wooden floor faded, and the silence of the room felt suffocating.
Mia didn't look up as she walked down the hallway, her heart heavy with the burden of emotions she didn't know how to express. She wanted to scream, to shout at the world for the unfairness of it all, but all she could do was hold it in. She didn't want Sara to see her break. She couldn't let Sara see her weakness. Not again.
The cool air in the hallway did little to calm her racing thoughts. Her chest felt tight, as though something sharp were pressing against her ribs. She stopped for a moment, leaning against the wall, her knees buckling beneath her. She sank to the floor with a sob, her body shaking with the force of emotions she couldn't contain anymore. The clock on the wall read 10:20 PM, but it didn't matter. Time had no meaning to her right now.
"God, can we talk?" Mia whispered, her voice hoarse with grief. "I have so many questions... Why? Why does it hurt so much?"
Her breath came in ragged gasps as she wrapped her arms around her knees, rocking slightly as though trying to comfort herself. But the pain only deepened, the sorrow growing heavier by the second.
"It hurts so much... I can't… I can't do this." Her voice broke on the last words, her entire body trembling as the tears came faster now, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
She wiped her eyes furiously with her sleeve, trying to clear the blur of emotions from her vision. "Wait, Mia. Stop," she muttered to herself, her words muffled by the sobs that followed. "Did my… Did my friend really do this to me? No. No, she can't have. She can't have hurt me like this. No… no, I'm wrong. I'm being stupid."
Her mind raced, spinning in circles of doubt and confusion. She should go back. Go back to Sara, apologize for running away like this. Maybe the evidence wasn't real. Maybe it was all just a misunderstanding. No, no, she couldn't believe that Sara would do this. Sara cared about her, she had to care.
"She cares for me," Mia whispered to herself, clinging to that small shred of hope. "I know she does."
She wiped her eyes again, taking in a shaky breath. "Okay," she said aloud, more to herself than to anyone else. "No more tears. I'll go back. I'll ask her. She'll never lie to me. She can't."
As Mia struggled to calm herself, her thoughts slowly clearing, she didn't notice the figure approaching from behind. A man, a stranger to her, had been walking through the hallway and had caught sight of her as she crumpled to the floor. He observed her, his expression unreadable, as Mia fought to control her emotions.
He stood there for a moment before speaking, his voice low but kind. "You know," he began, his tone gentle, "if you're hurt, it's better to let it out. Holding it in like that… it's only going to hurt you more."
Mia startled, her head snapping up to look at him. She hadn't heard him approach, but his presence felt oddly soothing, as if he understood her pain without needing to know the details.
"You can't even stand up," the stranger continued, his eyes softening as he looked at her trembling form. "If you want to cry, then cry. There's no shame in it. Let it all out. Shout, scream, whatever it takes. It's the only way to feel better."
Mia hesitated, her lips trembling as she looked at him. She didn't know who he was, or why he was talking to her, but his words, simple as they were, felt like the first bit of relief she'd had all night.
She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the truth of his words sink in. She could scream. She could cry. She didn't have to be strong all the time. Maybe for just a moment, it was okay to be weak.
With that thought, she finally allowed herself to break completely. Her sobs filled the hallway, raw and unrestrained, as the stranger stood quietly by, offering her nothing more than the comfort of his silent presence.
And for the first time that evening, Mia felt a small, fragile sense of release.