The room was dark, save for the dim glow of a lamp on the nightstand. It cast long shadows on the walls, barely illuminating the small space filled with the remnants of a young man's life.

Clothes were scattered across the floor, books left half-open on the desk, and his phone lay facedown, its screen cracked from a recent, frustrated throw.

There was a stale stillness in the air, the kind that weighed heavily on the chest, making each breath a little more laborious. He sat on the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees, head bowed, staring blankly at the worn-out carpet beneath him. 

A tear rolled down his cheek, though he barely noticed anymore. He had been crying so much recently, it had become like breathing—something he did without thinking.

His name was Aiden, though he didn't really feel like himself anymore.

Whatever version of him had existed a few months ago had been swallowed by this deep, relentless sadness. And tonight, alone in his dark room, Aiden was drowning in it.

Life had always been hard for him, but the last few weeks had been unbearable. Just four months ago, everything had seemed almost normal, or at least, as close to normal as his life ever got.

He had a girlfriend, Emily—his first real relationship. She was kind, beautiful, and, for a while, it felt like things were finally going right for him.

But that ended as quickly as it began. Just days ago, she had left him, saying she couldn't handle his "negativity." Those words stung more than anything. He wanted to argue, to fight for the relationship, but how could he? How could he blame her when his life had turned into one giant black hole, sucking everyone down with it?

He had tried to push the thought of her out of his mind, but it kept creeping back in, a haunting reminder of how alone he was. She had been his escape, the one good thing amidst all the chaos. Now she was gone too. 

His fingers twitched, aching to grab his phone and message her. But no. He'd already made that mistake once. The last message she sent him was still there, burned into his memory.

"I'm sorry, Aiden. I just can't do this anymore. I hope you find the help you need."

Help. As if talking to some therapist would change everything. As if someone could just sit across from him, scribble in a notebook, and tell him how to fix the disaster that had become his life.

He sniffed, wiping his face with the back of his hand, his mind shifting to a darker thought. His parents.

Both of them were gone now. It still didn't seem real. He had buried them just last week, standing by their gravesides in the cold, autumn air, numb and in shock. His mother had always been sick, but his father's sudden heart attack blindsided him.

The loss of both in such a short time felt like a cosmic joke—a sick twist of fate. What kind of higher being allowed this? What kind of god thought it was fair to rip everything from one person in such a cruel fashion?

His chest tightened as he thought about them. He hadn't even had time to grieve properly. There was too much pain to unpack.

His life had been in such a downward spiral, the grief almost blended into the background of his constant despair.

He hadn't processed it, couldn't process it. And now, when he needed them the most, they weren't there. They'd never be there again.

The silence of the room was deafening, and Aiden's thoughts grew louder to fill the void. His mind wandered back to the day of the funeral, the pitying looks from relatives and family friends, the half-hearted "I'm sorry for your loss" condolences.

None of them understood. None of them could know the black hole that had opened up in his chest, swallowing everything good, every spark of happiness he had left. 

And as if losing Emily and his parents wasn't enough, his loyal dog, Max, had died too. That was the final straw—the thing that tipped him over the edge. Max had been with him for six years. The one constant source of comfort and unconditional love.

Aiden remembered sitting on the floor of the vet's office, holding Max in his arms as the dog's breathing slowed, then stopped. His best friend, gone. Another piece of him taken away.

Why? Why was this happening to him? Was this some kind of test? Was the universe—or some cruel, sadistic higher power—watching him suffer for their amusement?

He had asked himself these questions so many times, but there were no answers. Just more silence. More pain.

His thoughts drifted to school. The bullying had started again, just when he thought he had outgrown it. For most of high school, he had managed to stay under the radar. He wasn't popular, but he wasn't a target either. He existed somewhere in the middle, quietly going about his life, keeping to himself.

But after his parents' death, people had sensed his weakness. Bullies could always sense that sort of thing. They latched onto it like vultures circling a carcass, picking at whatever scraps of strength he had left.

The teasing had started small—snide remarks, whispers behind his back. But then it escalated. His locker was defaced with cruel words. A group of boys had cornered him in the hallway just yesterday, shoving him around, calling him names.

It had taken everything in him not to break down in front of them. He wanted to fight back, but he didn't have the energy anymore. It was like the universe was piling on, testing how much more he could take before he snapped.

He sat up straighter, his hands running through his messy brown hair, tugging at it in frustration. His mind was racing now, cycling through every bit of bad luck, every moment of pain. He couldn't escape it. It was like he was cursed. Like something or someone had singled him out for misery.

"What did I do?" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper.

There had to be a reason, right? People didn't just get hit with this much crap for no reason. There had to be something, someone pulling the strings.

Aiden had never been particularly religious or spiritual, but lately, he'd found himself questioning everything. Was there a god? And if so, why did that god hate him? Why was he being punished? What had he done that was so wrong?

He thought about the past few years. He wasn't a bad person. He wasn't perfect, but he had tried to be kind, tried to be a good son, a good friend. Yet here he was, sitting alone in the dark, with nothing and no one. 

It felt like he was screaming into a void, begging for someone to hear him, to tell him it would be okay. But no one was listening. No one cared.

Aiden let out a shaky breath and leaned back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes traced the cracks in the plaster, small imperfections in the surface. Imperfections, like him.

He wondered how long he could keep going like this. The weight of everything was crushing him, and he didn't know how much more he could take. The idea of just... ending it all had crossed his mind more than once. It scared him, but it also offered a strange kind of comfort.

The thought of not having to wake up and face another day like this was appealing in a way that terrified him.

But then what? He didn't believe in an afterlife. He didn't know what came after death. Maybe nothing. Maybe that was better than this.

His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts. He glanced at it, half-expecting it to be another meaningless notification. But when he saw the name on the screen, his heart skipped a beat. It was Emily.

A part of him wanted to ignore it. She had left him. She didn't deserve his attention. But the other part of him, the part that still longed for her, couldn't resist. He reached for the phone, his hands trembling slightly as he unlocked it and opened the message.

"Hey, Aiden. I know it's been rough lately, and I've been thinking about you. I'm sorry for everything. I hope you're okay."

The words felt hollow. An apology? After leaving him at his lowest? It felt like a slap in the face.

Aiden's fingers hovered over the screen. He wanted to lash out, to tell her exactly how much she had hurt him. But what would be the point? It wouldn't change anything. She was just another person who had left him behind. Another piece of his life that had crumbled to dust.

He put the phone down without responding and stared at it for a long moment. He didn't have the energy for this. Not tonight.

He lay down on the bed, pulling the covers over himself, though they offered little comfort. The room felt colder than it should have, and the silence pressed in on him from all sides.

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[A/N: Oh hello there dear readers. Fancy seeing you here on this totally random adventure. Anyways, new book and all. This time I was hit by an entire freight train of inspiration and decided to put into words. Of the many ideas that I had this one seemed the most promising. Enjoyyyyyy!!]