"Adolf, you are a good guy. I hope you find someone better than me. I am the wrong one."

Her voice was soft but her tone unregretful, almost as if she forced herself to say it. The rain soaked her shoulders as she swiftly walked away, her figure fading into the downpour. Adolf stood frozen, his fingers numb as the bouquet slipped from his grasp.

'Why?'

His mind flashed with three other similar incidents, in three different scenes.

'Four times… Four different faces, four different words, but the same ending. I told myself they didn't see my love, that it was their fault. But what if… what if I was the problem all along?'

He looked at the rainclouds above blocking all of sun. The entire place, devoid of color.

"Ok."

He gritted his teeth.

"Fuck this shit."

He threw his tie on the muddy ground, next to the bouquet and ran off.

. . .

He rushed inside his house and slammed the door close.

Then, he just stood there, looking at the back of his mother, cooking in the kitchen.

His mother in the kitchen said, "Son, how was your date with Katie?", while she chopped the onions without facing toward Adolf. Adolf opened his mouth but words didn't come out.

The silence only let the sound of the rain ringing in his ears.

'I see. That explains it.'

A sharp crack echoed in his memory, like the rain striking pavement.

. . .

"This bitch," his father's voice was a low snarl, followed by the wet slap of a belt meeting flesh.

Adolf squeezed his eyes shut behind the bed, hands over his ears, but the sounds pushed through—merciless, inescapable.

"I told you not to fill the boy's head with weakness." The belt paused. "He'll learn that strength is the only thing that matters."

"This bitch," a man's voice, angry beyond reason, followed the sounds of belt continuously hitting someone, reverberating all over the room. Adolf sat behind the bed with closed teary eyes and closed his ears but the sounds still infiltrated his ears, as if to remind him of his present.

"I told you to not teach the boy stupid things," the man said while stopping the belt.

"He, he will grow up with my strength as his value. Not your weakness."

Adolf looked from the corner of the bed and saw his mother's nose bleed.

"Mom."

He crawled and held onto his mother's head while crying, spouting out screams without meaning.

The man picked the boy up by the hand and said, "The day will come when you will be thankful for me."

. . .

Adolf opened his eyes and saw a photo of his father along with incense and flowers.

The incense curled around the photo, the scent thick in his throat. His father's face stared back, unchanging, unmoved by time or regret, even as a photo.

'So this was the lesson. . . To never let my guard down. To trust and love only oneself. No matter what.'

"Boy, do you not hear me?" his mother's voice cut through his thoughts.

Adolf blinked, placing his shoes in the rack while the raindrops dripped off his wet hair.

"So, how was the date?" She said, again.

His fingers trembled for just a second.

"The date was… good. I learned a lot."

His mother looked back and smiled.

"Of course, that's what partners are for. To learn from and to love each other."

She focused at the kitchen again.

Adolf glared at his mother while gritting his teeth. His hands trembled into a fist but he could not do anything. His mother's words were always absolute.

"Yeah, we learned from each other. . . I will be in my room. Don't disturb me."

He stormed upstairs and his mother looked back again.

"That boy. . . I hope he isn't pushing himself too hard."

Adolf closed his doors.

He clenches his fists in frustration at his mother and how his entire belief system was falling apart.

'If father isn't right and mother isn't either, what should I believe in? What will be of my life now?"

A notification ringed and to escape the discomfort, Adolf immediately checked his phone.

[Your friend Katie has updated her profile picture.]

"Why do I even care?" he said and put the phone on the desk while thinking, 'Maybe she was heartbroken too and put some sad picture. She's different from other girls, after all.'

Then he picked up his phone and looked at the photo.

His breath hitched. The room was dark, but the glow of his phone screen was enough to burn the image into his mind. Katie, smiling. 'She never smiled. Always had a poker face. It was one of ther charms.'

Katie, with her head resting against another man's broad, muscular shoulder and smiling.

His grip tightened around the phone. His fingers twitched, like they wanted to crush it, but he just… stared.

A whole minute passed. The screen dimmed. Then, darkness.

Whether it be from the blinding light of the photo or the darkness in the room, Adolf's eyes had lost all colors. Pitch black, darker than the room itself.

He sat on the bed, marinating in his absurd reality.

The notification reached his mother's phone too. She too stared at it for a minute.

After that day, the house fell silent.

No whispers. No footsteps. No late-night conversations. Just… nothing.

Neighbors whispered about the eerie quiet. Some swore they saw lights flicker inside, as if someone was there—but never moving.

The house wasn't abandoned. It was haunted. Haunted by the regrets and absence of a mother and universal hatred and enclosed presence of a son.