Eoin's POV
I once understood the cruelty of reality, back when ridicule was my constant companion.
Mockery and laughter surrounded me, all for something as simple as the way I spoke. I detested it deeply—a relentless tide of bullying and isolation that wore down the heart. I cried out, hoping heaven might hear, but my pleas were swallowed by the silence of those who deemed themselves righteous. Each attempt to make friends ended in rejection. I tried, I'd tell myself, like a mantra, hoping it would somehow hold me together, keep me from spiraling.
To be different, I learned, was a crime society could not forgive. If someone were to ask me if I despised humanity, I'd say yes. And if they asked why, I would say: humanity fails to comprehend the heart. Or maybe they do understand it too well, enough to twist it into something terrifying. They blur the lines between truth and lies, wielding each in turn to suit themselves. And so, people like me suffer in silence, while my truth is twisted, my struggles dismissed. I am useless, I would think. I am weak. And with each day, that slight glimmer of hope I so desired grew more distant, as if I walked an endless, desolate road.
But tonight, as I stand on the edge, I am not alone. There's a feeling—something watching, something waiting. It's in the silence, the cold air that seeps into my bones and tugs at my heart. My outcries for help remain unheard, but this force feels my despair, drinks it in, as though savoring every fractured piece of my soul. A yearning for freedom and love lingers within me, yet feels trivial now, weighed against this dark presence around me.
I've asked myself why I'm alive, why I breathe, why I'm constantly reminded of my own insignificance in a world that already has what it needs. If others can achieve so much, then what is my purpose? Pride? Ego? I never cared for these. My hateful experiences had taught me to leave them behind. What did I have left? Nothing.
And so, I find myself here, gazing up at the shimmering moon that hangs alone in the sky, crowned by distant stars. The breeze is gentle, yet somehow charged, carrying whispers I can't quite hear, like voices seeping in from some forgotten place. The night's beauty feels like a mirage, thin and fragile, at odds with this cold weight around me. I spread my arms wide, surrendering myself to the emptiness, hoping it will answer my questions.
What purpose do I serve? I wonder. What meaning does my life hold if all I have to offer is a torn soul?
As I lean forward over the ledge, I feel a chill deeper than the night air, one that touches my bones. The dark presence intensifies, curling around me, drawing me into a silence so profound it feels endless. The air hums with an energy that wasn't there before, and for a moment, I could swear I hear something—a faint, hollow call, almost like laughter, or the echo of something ancient waiting beyond the veil.
The world around me blurs. My heartbeat slows, my breathing thins, and the darkness reaches out as I begin to fall, catching me in its cold embrace. It feels familiar, like something I've always known yet never wanted to acknowledge. I'm sinking into a void, endless and abysmal, and for the first time, I sense that what lies beneath my despair is something older, something darker, waiting to consume me.
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Taila POV
Some believe that every moment, every experience, even our very existence, is preordained— that we aren't truly in control of our fate. If that's true, is my destiny to be sidelined, shunned for my differences, despite everything I've put into this life? Is it my fate never to be loved? Is my reality so bleak that finding meaning is as unreachable as the stars?
Beauty, status, appearance—all of it feels so superficial. I've never cared. The more significance people place on these things, the more I find myself recoiling from them. I try to believe there are others worse off than I am, others just as empty as me. Cruel as it sounds, the idea of someone like that is comforting—a soul just as lost as I am. Someone who wouldn't judge me, who wouldn't call me weak, who wouldn't make me run and run, seeking an escape.
Do you despise humanity? people might ask me. I would say yes. And why?
Because of the masks people wear, the facades that lure others close only to end in disillusionment. The heart, like a spring flower, can wither if neglected, and when it dies, the soul dies too. The only outcome, then, is death. Cruel, yet true.
I turned my gaze back to the lone moon, shining like a beacon over the night skies, crowned by countless stars. The gentle breeze brushed past, calming everything around me. Yet somewhere in my heart, I felt something—an instinct, a warning.
A falling soul, someone as lost as I was.
My pulse quickened, blood pounding as I looked toward the darkness. Why would someone else do this to themselves? I already knew the answer. The truth was painful, yet undeniable.
I had never wanted to see this play out before my eyes.
So, I ran. I ran with everything I had, reaching out, hoping to catch the falling soul.