The interrogation room was as bleak as expected—a cold, sterile space with a steel table, a single chair, and a mirror that hinted at unseen observers on the other side. A sixteen-year-old boy sat in the chair, his wrists bound by handcuffs to the table. His brown hair was unkempt, and his green eyes carried a sharpness that contrasted with his youthful features. Despite his age, something was striking about him. Yet, it wasn't his looks that drew attention—it was the peculiar watch on his wrist. The slim, metallic device seemed ordinary enough, save for the glowing green hourglass symbol on its face.
Across from him sat a middle-aged man with a receding hairline, his tired eyes locked onto the boy. The tension in the room was palpable, the silence broken only by the man's steady, deliberate question.
"Who are you?"
The boy didn't answer. His eyes dropped to the table, his mind already elsewhere.
Flashback.
Sometimes, the decisions you make can change your entire life. Sometimes, the words you don't say can hurt more than those you do. I sound like the clichéd protagonist of a novel, don't I? But this isn't just a story. It's my life.
To start, I'm not like your usual main characters. My parents are alive. They're kind and provide for me, and my childhood wasn't dark. I wasn't bullied, I had friends, and by most accounts, my life was fine. But fine isn't always enough. Sometimes, the absence of pain doesn't mean the presence of happiness.
My parents were always busy, their jobs taking them far from home. They provided everything I could need but not the one thing I wanted most: their presence. In their stead, my grandfather filled the void. He was my mentor, my companion, my anchor.
He taught me everything—fishing, camping, collecting old newspapers. And I taught him too. Technology was a mystery to him, and I took it upon myself to be his guide. I still remember teaching him how to use his first smartphone. His joy when I set up WhatsApp on his Galaxy S is a memory I'll treasure forever.
But then came 2020. COVID.
The day I bought him a new phone, I was ecstatic. It was a small gesture, but one I knew he'd love. When I got home, though, he wasn't there. Panic set in as I searched for him, my worry mounting with every empty room. A neighbor finally told me he'd been taken to the hospital by my father.
A few days later, what greeted me wasn't his warm smile but my father's trembling voice. I ran to the hospital, my heart racing. When I arrived, my world shattered. He lay there, sealed in a transparent bag. The man who had been my guiding light was gone. The containment suits, the sterile surroundings—it all blurred as tears streamed down my face. I couldn't go near him. I couldn't say goodbye.
The funeral was unlike anything I'd seen. Despite the restrictions, a crowd gathered—a testament to the lives he'd touched. But amidst the sea of people, I felt alone. Kneeling before his body, my tears fell unchecked, a silent testament to the void he'd left behind.
The world lost its color after that. Days blurred into nights, and I drifted through them, a shell of who I'd been. Until I met her. She was the light in my darkness, the spark that reignited my world. Everything she did seemed to shimmer, and before I knew it, she'd become the center of my universe.
At first, I dismissed it as a fleeting crush. But as time passed, my feelings grew deeper, like roots digging into the earth. I wanted to tell her how I felt, but fear held me back. What if she didn't feel the same? What if I ruined the friendship we had? So, I bottled up my emotions, content to admire her from afar.
But all things come to an end. As our time together grew short, I knew I couldn't let her leave without telling her. Summoning all my courage, I asked her out on a date. To my surprise, she agreed.
We spent the day at her favorite amusement park. We laughed, took pictures, and rode every ride we could. As the sun began to set, I took her to the Ferris wheel. At the top, with the world stretched out below us, I decided it was time.
"I have something I've wanted to say for a long time," I began, my voice unsteady. My eyes darted away from hers, my heart pounding in my chest. "I..."
"That you love me?" she interrupted, her voice soft but sure.
I froze, stunned. She smiled, the golden hues of the sunset framing her like a painting.
"How?" I managed to ask, my disbelief evident.
"You're not as subtle as you think," she teased. "And I'm smarter than I look."
"So...?"
"Yes." One word. That's all it took to fill my world with light.
But fate is cruel.
CLICK.
A metallic groan shattered the moment. The bolt holding our cabin in place gave way, tilting it violently. I was thrown against the side, my head slamming into the wall. The door on her side swung open. She screamed.
"No!" I lunged for her, my hand outstretched, but I was too late. She slipped through the open door, her body plummeting to the ground below.
Ignoring the pain in my head, I jumped after her. The impact of my landing sent a sharp jolt through my legs, but I didn't care. I ran to her, her blood pooling on the ground as I cradled her in my arms.
"No, no, no," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Not again. Please, not again."
Her eyes fluttered closed, her breaths growing faint. Her blood stained my hands, warm and unrelenting.
I screamed into the night, a raw, primal sound. Tears blurred my vision as I begged for this to be a nightmare, and slapped myself to wake up. But nothing changed. The cold reality settled in.
Sometimes, the decisions you make can change your whole life. And sometimes, fate doesn't care.
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