Everything’s black. The whole room.

...Which room? Everything is black.

***

Where am I? I look around. All I can see is darkness.

Nothing, but still too much.

It’s pressing down on me, squeezing my chest, cutting off my breath.

I close my eyes. It’s still the same. Black. Dark. It’s quiet.

I’m alone. In a foreign place, yet so familiar. I feel safe. Everything will be alright.

***

He won’t come.

He looks at me with tears in his eyes.

...Why is he crying? His chest moves frantically. Does he have a… What is it called? Heart attack?

No.

He’s him. He’s perfect. I love him. He can’t die. He can’t go. But he will. And he won’t come back. Like every time. He’ll go.

He’ll smile at me, make my heart flutter and clench at the same time. He’ll be fine. He always is. He’s perfect.

I love him.

He says something. It’s silent.

...Did he say something? His lips moved.

He grabs my shoulders with thin, bony fingers. The veins of his hands are black. Like everything else. Black.

He turns around.

Don’t go. Stay. Please. Just for once, stay.

I want to say something. My mouth doesn’t move. I’m frozen. I can’t move. All I can do is watch him walk away. And never come back again. He never does.