The restroom's fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting a sterile glow over the pale green tiles that stretched from floor to ceiling. The faint hum of a hand dryer in the corner provided the only sound until the heavy creak of the bathroom door cut through the quiet.
A young boy, no older than nine, burst in, his chestnut hair plastered to his forehead, sweat glistening under the light. His small hands trembled as he clutched the straps of his backpack. His eyes darted around, scanning for anyone who might see him, his breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps.
By the sinks, an older man stood, rinsing his hands. The boy's sudden entrance startled him. Their eyes met briefly—dark, hollow pools of fear in the boy, curiosity and mild annoyance in the man. Without a word, the man grabbed a paper towel, dried his hands, and exited, the sound of his footsteps fading into the hallway.
The boy, Kyle, made a beeline for one of the stalls, slamming the door shut and locking it with a metallic click. Inside, he pressed his back against the cold wall, letting the icy chill seep through his damp shirt. His breath hitched, and sobs began to escape, soft and restrained at first, then louder as he buried his face in his hands.
The restroom door creaked open again. Kyle froze. A soft, familiar voice broke the silence.
"Kyle?" It was his mother.
Her voice wavered, fragile and heavy with worry. She stepped into the restroom, her heels clicking against the tiled floor. She paused, scanning the empty space. "Kyle, are you in here?"
He didn't answer, his sobs now muffled.
She stood in the middle of the room, her reflection staring back at her from the mirror. Her once vibrant face was pale and worn, her deep brown eyes lined with exhaustion. Her hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the sink. "Kyle," she called again, this time softer, pleading. Her voice cracked under the weight of her emotions. "Please talk to me, sweetheart."
Kyle's silence hung in the air like a heavy fog. His mother turned toward the stall where she could faintly hear his muffled sobs. She walked over, hesitating for a moment before placing a gentle hand on the closed door.
"Kyle," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know you're upset. And you have every right to be. But please, listen to me."
Inside, Kyle pressed his forehead against the cold metal of the stall door, his tears soaking into his sleeves.
"I wish…I wish things were different," she continued, her tone filled with remorse. "I wish I could be with you and your sister right now, holding you, keeping you safe. But I can't—not yet. I've made mistakes, Kyle. Mistakes I have to fix. If I don't…" Her voice broke, and she exhaled shakily. "If I don't, something terrible will happen."
Kyle's sobs quieted slightly as her words reached him. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand but still refused to speak.
"I'm doing this for your father, Kyle," she said, her voice growing steadier but no less sorrowful. "Your father had dreams—dreams of a better life for all of us. And I want to protect those dreams. I have to do the right thing, even if it's hard. Even if it hurts."
Her hand lingered on the stall door for a moment before she withdrew it. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Her next words came with a quiet strength, tinged with a poetic cadence that hung in the air like a melody.
"We share one heart, Kyle. My love will always be your love, no matter where I am. No matter what happens. You and your sister carry a part of me with you, always."
Her voice cracked on the last word, but she quickly turned away, retreating to the door. She paused briefly, as if waiting for him to say something. When no response came, she sighed and left, the door creaking shut behind her.
For a long moment, Kyle stayed frozen. The echoes of her words reverberated in his mind. He wiped his face with his sleeves again and took a deep, shaky breath. Slowly, he unlocked the stall door and stepped out.
The restroom was quiet now, eerily so. Kyle shuffled to the row of sinks and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His red, puffy eyes gazed back at him, his small face drawn with confusion and pain.
For a moment, he just stood there, his hands gripping the edge of the sink. Then, something strange happened. The mirror flickered, as though static had run through it. He blinked, rubbing his eyes, but the distortion didn't stop. The reflection in the glass rippled like water, warping unnaturally.
Kyle stumbled back, his breath hitching. The flickering spread, like a glitch in reality itself. The edges of the room began to distort—the tiles on the walls stretched and bent, the fluorescent lights above buzzed louder, flickering on and off in a staccato rhythm.
The air grew heavy, charged with an unnatural energy. Kyle's hair stood on end as a low hum filled the space, growing louder with each passing second.
The mirror fractured, but instead of breaking into shards, it seemed to split into countless fragments of light, each one reflecting a different distorted version of the room.
"Kyle…" His mother's voice echoed faintly, but it sounded distant, as though coming from another world.
He clutched his chest, his heartbeat racing as the room twisted and buckled around him. The tiles peeled away, revealing an endless void beneath them.
The sink disintegrated into particles of light, and the ceiling dissolved, replaced by a swirling mass of colors that defied description.
And then, with a deafening boom, reality itself seemed to shatter. A cataclysmic wave of light and sound erupted from the mirror, swallowing everything in its path. Kyle shielded his face, but the force was overwhelming.
For a brief moment, there was nothing but blinding light and an ear-splitting roar. And then—silence.
The restroom was gone. The world was gone. Kyle floated in an endless void, weightless and alone, his mind reeling from the incomprehensible events. He reached out, but there was nothing to grab onto, nothing to anchor him.
And then, just as suddenly as it had started, the void began to coalesce. Shapes and colors returned, though distorted and unfamiliar.
Kyle found himself standing once more, but the world around him was no longer the same.