I have shut myself away for two years.
Two years in darkness, avoiding the outside world, throwing away everything I once held onto.
I have cut off everything—my family, my friends, even my hopes.
The trauma of my past made me lose confidence, filled me with doubt, and left me unable to trust anyone… not even myself.
I once tried to step outside, to face my fears. But every time I stood at the door, anxiety gripped me. My breathing became rapid. My chest tightened. My legs felt heavy, as if the world beyond would crush me the moment I stepped out.
"I'll do it tomorrow..." But tomorrow never came.
Two years passed in silence.
But in the past two months, something changed. A restless feeling gnawed at me, a sense that something was wrong with the world.
Sometimes, I heard sounds—distant screams, muffled explosions, tremors that kept me awake at night.
At first, I thought it was just my imagination. A hallucination caused by my isolation. But as time went on, the sounds became more real.
I began to wonder…
Had I lost my sanity?
But I couldn't go on like this.
I had to leave. I had to face the world. I had to live.
With a resolve that was barely holding together, I walked toward the window.
I wanted to fix my life, I didn't want to be left behind, I… just wanted to be acknowledged.
I wanted to see the outside world. But...
Doubt crept in again.
My hand froze mid-air. I hesitated, afraid.
How people look at me after all this time?
What if I made the situation worse?
My chest tightened.
I was short of breath, gasping for breath as if I was being buried alive.
My heart pounded. Voices echoed in my head, growing louder, suffocating my thoughts.
"Go out… go out… go out…"
My fists clenched. I tried to resist. I tried to ignore it.
But in the middle of this spiraling conflict—
A loud crash shattered the silence.
The window broke.
I stared at my right hand, stunned. My eyes widened.
I hadn't even realized I had struck the glass.
I couldn't remember when I had raised my fist.
Shards of glass scattered across the floor. Tiny fragments embedded into my skin. Blood dripped down.
But I didn't care.
I looked outside—
And my heart nearly stopped.
The air was dark, as if the night had never ended. But this wasn't nighttime.
It wasn't a fog.
It was... dust?
I squinted, trying to see clearly.
The buildings that once stood strong were now reduced to rubble.
The streets were filled with abandoned cars, left behind in a frantic escape.
Traffic lights still blinked, doing their job in vain, as if unaware that the world had ended.
Silence.
No honking cars.
No footsteps.
No signs of life.
I stood frozen.
I wanted to deny it.
To convince myself that this was just a nightmare.
My breathing became erratic.
I clawed at my face, trying to ground myself in reality.
Then, in frustration, I punched the wall.
Once.
Twice.
Third.
Blood smeared against the surface, but I couldn't think of anything else except the hatred toward myself.
I swung my fist again and again, desperate to shatter this nightmare.
I kept punching, until my skin tore, until blood dripped onto the floor. Until my hands went numb.
But the pain only confirmed one thing that sent chills down my spine.
This was real.
The world was truly… dead.
I stared at my blood-stained hands.
I couldn't even feel the pain anymore.
With despair settling in, I accepted the truth.
The truth that I had waited too long.
The truth that my hope of changing my life had vanished with time.
The truth that I had thrown away my future with every second wasted in doubt.
I reached for the mask hanging on my desk and put it on.
The air felt heavy. Every breath carried the stinging scent of iron and dust.
With hands that could no longer hold anything, I kicked open the door.
I didn't care anymore.
I didn't care about what had happened.
I didn't care whether I would survive.
I just wanted to know—
What had happened to this world?
I had no certainty.
I had no direction.
I had no hope.
And yet…
Strangely, I felt relieved.
For the first time, I had nothing to worry about.
No more expectations.
No more obligations.
Nothing left to hold me back.