With each step I take out the door towards school, I feel the weight of invisible chains dragging me down, tethering me to a world that I no longer want to belong to. Wouldn't it be better to just finish what I started? To finally free myself from this cursed existence that brings nothing but pain? And yet, I cannot leave. Something, something inexplicable keeps holding me back, keeping me anchored to this painful world. The words of Abraham echoes through my mind, words that bind me to this forsakened Soil called Earth, even as my soul longs for release.
"Death is the bane of experience," he used to say, "It ends every future possibility."
His words haunt me then, and they still haunt me now. It made me wonder: what would I truly miss once I'm gone? I search through mind, but I can't think of anything that seems worth staying for. As these thoughts consume me, my feet, on autopilot, carry me to my final destination "school".
A place where happiness seems impossible without him, but where I still find a flicker of solace in another. Althea Fiddleson. A girl who, in her own way, is another anchor for me, though not as tightly woven into my heart as Abraham was. I take a deep breath, steeling myself to enter the gates. The noise, the people, it's all just too overwhelming. But I force myself forward, moving through the sea of faces to my classroom. Above the door is a sign that reads "Dream," ironic given that my life is nothing but a nightmare. Each class is labeled with a word to define it, ours "Dream" because it's filled with students whose ambitions seem unreachable. Another class is called "Hercules," filled with the athletes who embody strength and stamina. But I? I am caught in a nightmare, walking into a room that once held promise but now offers only emptiness and lonely. The classroom is as silent as a tomb, empty and desolate, except for the sunlight pouring in through the windows, casting golden hues across the desks and floor. It's strange, how beautiful it all seems when my heart feels so heavy. I walk to my seat and sat down, once again feeling the invisible chains tighten, binding me to this place, to this moment. The whiteboard ahead of me is as blank as my mind, void of any hope, any thought of a future seemed impossible. Minutes passed in a blur of numbness, but then i hear some familiar footsteps—Althea enters the room. She walks towards me, her presence somehow grounding, though it does little to ease the weight in my chest. Without a word, she kneels down beside me and pulls me into a hug. Her embrace feels like an anchor, not dragging me down, but holding me in place, preventing me from floating away into the abyss. And yet, it's unbearable. The tears come before I can stop them. I cry for Abraham, for the loss that has torn a hole in my soul. I never got the chance to say goodbye, never got the chance to laugh with him again, never got the chance to see him achieve his goal. The will to keep going is gone, but in Althea's arms, there is a tiny, flickering warmth in the cold darkness. The room is quiet, painfully so. It reminds me of summer, the kind of peace that feels too calm to be real. Althea stands, her hands resting gently on my shoulders, her eyes searching mine.
"How do you feel now?" she asks, her voice soft, yet strained, as if she's holding back her own tears.
"Like an empty shell, waiting to break," I manage to choke out, my voice cracking with the weight of my sorrow.
"That's to be expected," she says gently, offering a weak smile.
"But the sun is still up. As long as it shines, there will be light, and maybe, someday, happiness. "
Her words bring Abraham back to me. His smile, always there, even in the darkest moments, even when life seemed cruel. I used to think he was foolish for smiling through the pain, but now I understand. My tears will never reach him, but maybe, just maybe, my smile can. Perhaps it can shine as brightly as the sun, and in some small way, that light will find him, wherever he is.
The rest of the day drags on, the air around me felts thick, oppressive. I struggled to concentrate, my mind drifting between the present and the unbearable weight of my loss. I try to keep a façade of composure, not wanting to draw attention to myself. When the teacher introduces me as if I'm a new student, it's because of my coma. The coma that stole so much time, and yet gave me nothing but pain in return.
I listen as names are called, pretending to care, pretending to belong, Pretending to be one of them, Happy and Oblivious. But break time comes, and with it, the unbearable questions. Students swarm around me, their faces full of pity and morbid curiosity. They ask if I'm still in pain, if I did it on purpose, if I feel better now. Their words are suffocating, each one a knife twisting deeper into wounds that have barely begun to heal. And then, someone mentions Abraham. How dare they. How dare they speak his name as if they know the depth of what I've lost. Before I can completely unravel, Althea comes to my rescue, pulling me away from the crowd. She takes my hand and leads me out of the room, and for a brief moment, it feels almost romantic. But my mind is elsewhere, focused on escape. Escape from this hellish place, from these people who pick at the scabs of my grief like vultures. Althea takes me to the cafeteria, and it's no surprise. She's always been a foodie, always looking for comfort in the simple act of eating. We sit down with our food, juice and pasta for her which was quite surprising as i expected her to have much more than that, and noodles for me. The only thing I can stomach. Abraham used to make them for me, It is the only food i could enjoy. But today, even that comfort feels hollow. Time slips away, unnoticed. I sit in class, pretending to pay attention, and once again pretending to care.
Why am I here?
What's the point of any of this?
School is supposed to be a place of learning, of friendships, of growth. But for me, it's just another cage, another place where I have to hide the cracks in my soul while my mind screams for release. I may have lost my memories during the coma, but I never forgot the loneliness, The isolation. The pain of sitting alone, surrounded by people, yet utterly, completely alone. The peace from Althea's embrace fades, dissolving into the cold monotony of the day as it moves forward. Classes begin, but I'm not really there. The teacher's voice becomes an incoherent hum, nothing more than background noise drowned out by the ceaseless storm of thoughts in my head. My mind, stubborn and restless, drifts to Abraham, the way he used to sit beside me. His low voice always found a way to cut through the dullness, cracking jokes under his breath, pulling me out of the boredom and the bleakness of it all. He had a way of making even the most unbearable lessons tolerable, if not enjoyable. But that's all gone now. He's gone. And with him, any shred of light that school once held for me. The class moves forward without me, leaving me behind in a haze of memories I can't shake. Every time the teacher calls my name, I respond out of reflex, but nothing sticks. I can hear the whispers behind me, feel the eyes lingering on my back like the sharp sting of an unwanted gaze.