The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of Daisy's dorm room, casting soft, golden light across her bed. But unlike most mornings, the warmth of the sunlight didn't bring with it the usual sense of hope and new beginnings. Instead, Daisy lay still under the covers, her body curled into a tight ball, her face pressed against the damp pillow where she had cried herself to sleep the night before. The events of the previous day played on a loop in her mind, each repetition tightening the knot of despair in her chest.
The morning had begun with so much promise. She had woken up with a lightness in her step, her heart fluttering with the memory of the time spent with Ferdinand. The way he had smiled at her, the sound of his voice, the warmth of his presence—everything had seemed so perfect. But that feeling of happiness had been fleeting, quickly replaced by an all-consuming worry when she couldn't find him in the library.
She had gone there, expecting to see him seated at his usual spot, absorbed in his work. But the seat was empty. At first, she had brushed it off, thinking he might have been running late. She had sat down at her own table, trying to focus on her books, but her eyes kept drifting to the door, her heart skipping a beat each time it opened. But Ferdinand never walked through.
As the hours passed, her anxiety grew. She had asked a few of her acquaintances if they had seen him, describing him as best as she could. But to her horror, no one seemed to know a man by that name. It was as if he had vanished from existence. The thought gnawed at her, filling her with a sense of dread that she couldn't shake.
By midday, her mind had started spiraling. What if he had never existed? What if everything she remembered was just a figment of her imagination, a cruel trick her mind had played on her? The idea seemed absurd, but the more she thought about it, the more plausible it became. She frantically checked her phone, scrolling through her contacts, but there was no number saved under the name Ferdinand. Panic set in as she realized there was no way to reach him, no proof that he had ever been real.
Sitting alone in the library, surrounded by the quiet hum of students engrossed in their studies, Daisy felt completely isolated. The memories of their time together, which had felt so vivid and real, now seemed like a distant dream. She could still feel the ghost of his touch on her hand, hear the echo of his laughter in her ears, but all of it was slipping away, replaced by a cold, hollow emptiness.
Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the pages of the book in front of her. She tried to blink them away, but they spilled over, trailing down her cheeks. She wiped at them hastily, embarrassed to be crying in public, but the floodgates had opened, and there was no stopping it now. The more she tried to hold back, the harder the sobs shook her body.
It wasn't just the fear of losing Ferdinand that broke her—it was the crushing realization that she might have driven him away. Had she talked too much? Had she been too forward, too eager? The questions tormented her, each one cutting deeper than the last. She replayed their conversations over and over in her mind, scrutinizing every word she had said, every gesture she had made. Maybe she had been too open, too vulnerable. Maybe he had seen something in her that he didn't like and decided to disappear without a trace.
Her thoughts turned darker with each passing minute. She blamed herself for everything, convinced that her actions had driven him away. The image of him sitting at the café, so calm and collected, contrasted sharply with the turmoil raging inside her. She had thought they had connected, but maybe it had all been in her head. The fear that she had imagined the whole thing gnawed at her, leaving her feeling more alone than ever.
By the time the afternoon sun had begun to cast long shadows across the campus, Daisy was a wreck. She couldn't bear to stay in the library any longer, surrounded by people who seemed so content and focused on their work. The thought of sitting through another minute of it made her stomach turn. She gathered her things with trembling hands and hurried out of the building, keeping her head down to avoid the curious stares of those around her.
The walk back to her dorm felt endless, the familiar path now seeming foreign and unwelcoming. Every step felt heavy, as if the weight of her own despair was physically holding her back. She stumbled up the stairs to her room, her vision blurred by tears, and fumbled with her keys before finally pushing the door open.
The room was dark and cold, the sunlight barely making it through the curtains she had forgotten to open that morning. Daisy didn't bother turning on the lights. She let the door swing shut behind her and dropped her bag to the floor, her legs giving out as she collapsed onto the bed. The sobs came in full force then, racking her body as she buried her face in her pillow, muffling the sounds of her cries.
She had never felt so lost, so completely defeated. The hope and happiness that had filled her just a day ago had been ripped away, leaving behind a gaping void that she didn't know how to fill. The thoughts in her head were relentless, each one more painful than the last. She cursed herself for being so foolish, for letting herself believe that someone like Ferdinand could ever be interested in her.
Hours passed, but Daisy was unaware of the time. She lay there in the darkness, the pillow soaked with her tears, her body trembling with the force of her emotions. She was too exhausted to move, too drained to think clearly. All she could do was cry, letting out all the pain and fear that had built up inside her.
As the night wore on, her sobs grew quieter, her body too tired to keep going. But the sadness didn't leave her; it settled into her bones, a heavy, oppressive weight that made it hard to breathe. She curled up tighter, pulling the blankets around her as if they could protect her from the storm raging inside her mind.
In the silence of her room, Daisy's thoughts turned inward, her mind replaying every detail of the past few days. She thought of Ferdinand's smile, the way he had looked at her as if she mattered. The memory was bittersweet now, tainted by the possibility that it had all been a lie. She wondered if she would ever see him again, if she would ever have the chance to ask him why he had disappeared, why he had left her feeling so broken and alone.
But even as she thought these things, a small part of her clung to the hope that he would come back, that he would find her and explain everything. It was a foolish hope, she knew, but it was the only thing keeping her from completely falling apart.
By the time the first light of dawn began to creep through the curtains, Daisy was barely conscious. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying, her throat sore from the effort. She had no energy left, no will to get up and face the day. All she could do was lie there, staring blankly at the wall, her mind a dull haze of exhaustion and despair.
The next morning came, but Daisy didn't move. She didn't have the strength or the motivation to get out of bed, to face the world without Ferdinand. The thought of going to class, of sitting in the library where they had first met, was unbearable. She couldn't do it. Not without him.
The day passed in a blur, Daisy remaining curled up in her bed, too sick from crying to eat or even drink. She had no desire to do anything, no reason to get up. What was the point? Without Ferdinand, everything felt meaningless. She had never realized how much she had depended on him, how much his presence had brightened her world until he was gone.
And so, she stayed in her darkened room, isolated from the world, consumed by her own misery. The hours slipped by unnoticed, the pain in her heart too overwhelming to let her think of anything else. All she could do was wait, hoping against hope that somehow, some way, Ferdinand would come back to her.