“You’re more interesting than you seem.”

The voice was soft. Kind.

A smile curled on a face Lena thought she recognized.

But then it began to shift.

The mouth stretched too far, the eyes dulled and emptied. The smile turned stiff, then cracked into something sharp and mocking, an expression twisted with disgust.

“You’re kind of like a parasite, you know…”

The words sliced into her. Cold. Final. Tone stinging like fresh cuts.

Like a distant truth she was only just now being allowed to hear.

“They were right… I never should’ve been nice to someone like you.”

Lena was on the ground.

She didn’t remember falling, only the feeling of the dirt under her palms, grainy and damp, sticking to her fingers and staining the hem of her skirt. Her knees ached. The voices above her didn’t care.

“C’mon, just leave her… she’s not worth it.”

Footsteps. Light and distant. Growing fainter with every second.

Lena didn’t lift her head.

She just stared at her hands.

The way the soil clung to them.

The way her heartbeat thudded dully in her ears, louder than anything else.

The ground trembled beneath her, though no one else seemed to notice.

She was alone.

No—maybe she’d always been alone. She just hadn’t wanted to believe it. Maybe that was her mistake: thinking she was like them. That she belonged. But she didn’t. She was something else. Something small and awful and desperate—something that took and clung, hanging on stubbornly.

A parasite in a world full of people. Endlessly looking for something that wasn’t hers to feed off of.

Eventually, she stood. Her body moved on its own, aimless and slow.  Heavy and weightless all at the same time.

One foot in front of the other.

Her feet shifted strangely as she walked—morphing, reappearing, vanishing.

Barefoot. Then back to her black school shoes.

Bigger. Smaller.

Legs stretch out bigger then back to small.

Like even her body wasn’t sure who she was supposed to be.

She didn’t know where she was going.

Blood dripped from her hands. She hadn’t noticed it at first—hadn’t felt pain—but now it pattered softly against the pavement behind her, marking a quiet trail.

When the fog cleared, she was standing at the edge of the school roof.

The wind whipped at her.

Her feet balanced on the narrow ledge.

Both legs already on the other side of the fence.

Her fingers clutched the metal bars lightly, more for habit than support. Below her, the ground looked soft. Almost inviting.

That voice came back.

Gentle. Smiling. Warm.

“You know… you’re more interesting than you let on.”

FAKE….

Something twisted inside Lena, she wanted to destroy everyone…she wanted to rip herself open.

LIAR.

LIAR.

All of them. Smiling, helping, saying what they thought she wanted to hear—then leaving. Always leaving. 

Telling her she was the one who overthought it.

But how was she supposed to understand them if they never said what they really meant?

How could they speak such warm words—with no feeling behind them? No meaning?  How was she meant to just understand?

“So fake…”

The words tumbled from her mouth— cold, unfamiliar, yet still spoken in her voice.

Her teeth clenched... or maybe they didn’t.

A storm churned inside her, growing wilder by the second.

She was losing control.

The need to destroy something—anything, someone… was consuming her.

 “All of you…”

The ground whispered to her— gentle, distant, like a voice underwater.

Her body hit it. Blood bloomed like petals on concrete.

But no—it hadn’t. She was still standing, high above, untouched. Watching.

A face surfaced.

The girl's face again—the one who smiled and spoke kindly to her, who told her she mattered.

Lena imagined the moment she found out. The guilt. The horror.

The quiet, inevitable horror.

The hurt.

For some reason, Lena’s lips curved upward.

A breeze stirred.

The world tilted.

And gravity reached for her like an old friend.  The ground coming closer and closer.

“Ah—!”

Lena jolted upright in bed.

Her chest heaved, ribs tight around her lungs. Her heart beat like a drum, echoing in her ears. Her throat was tight—too tight—like something had wrapped around it in her sleep.

She gasped. Once. Twice.

A dream.

Just a dream.

She wasn’t there. She wasn’t on that ledge. She wasn’t alone. Not again…

She was away now. She wasn’t there anymore...

She repeated the words like a ritual, like they might settle the tremor in her limbs.

Her fingers gripped the sheets before she forced herself to move, limbs heavy and weak. She staggered from the bed and reached for the bottle on her desk, her hand knocking it over in the dark. A frantic rattle of pills against plastic.

She popped one into her mouth, dry-swallowing until her hands found the water. The moment it slid down her throat, she felt the crash. Her legs gave out, and she slumped to the floor, the weight in her chest beginning—just barely—to ease.

A dream…

But even now, she knew—no matter how tightly she shut her eyes or how often she changed her surroundings—the past stayed real. It pulsed under her skin, waiting.

She hadn't had that dream in a while.

Why now?

Lena laid down flat on the floor, cheek pressed to the cold wood, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Small, dusty spiderwebs clung to the corners, delicate and still, barely visible in the dark. The shadows seemed to twist if she looked too long; her eyes followed the shapes they made. Her heartbeat slowed. The pressure in her throat loosened.

She was okay.

Until another memory from earlier slipped in.

—----------------

“Hey, Lena…”

Umire’s voice filtered through her mind like a ripple in still water.

The classroom was nearly empty, the last of the students trickling out. Lena looked up from her desk, blinking as Umire approached, a familiar smile on her face.

“Umire…”

“I wanted to hang out with you today, but…” Umire scratched her cheek sheepishly. “Something came up again. Sorry. But let’s definitely do it tomorrow, okay?”

That smile—gentle, warm, untouched by hesitation—sank into Lena’s chest.
She knew it wasn’t hers. That warmth was never meant for her.

But it still made something flutter.

“Oh, okay…” Lena’s voice trailed off, but something unsaid tugged at her thoughts, a question itching to be asked.

“What is it?” Umire asked, catching the curiosity that Lena tried to hide.

Lena’s mouth went dry. She opened it before she could think. “Where are you going? And what happened yesterday? Why did you leave so suddenly?”

For a heartbeat, Umire froze. Her gaze darkened, her usual warmth flickering. But it was only for a moment—just long enough for Lena to feel a chill that went deeper than the air in the room. Then her smile returned. Bright. Familiar.

“Ah… umm, it’s nothing much, haha…” Umire shrugged, her voice dismissing the question too easily, trailing off with a light laugh.

Lena’s stomach twisted. Her eyes flitted away, feeling the pressure of the room, of her unanswered question.

“Yuna seemed to know,” she said before she could stop herself. “Why can’t I?”

The words dropped like a stone between them. Her voice had a bite, too sharp, too sudden.

As soon as she heard herself, Lena slapped a hand over her mouth.

No… not again.

Why did she always do this?

Why did she always push—until everything broke?

A long silence stretched between them. Lena's chest tightened. She could feel Umire’s gaze, unreadable, fixed on her, the warmth of her presence suddenly distant.

“You know… Yuna… yeah, she does know.” Umire turned her head, her eyes drifting toward the window. “But it’s not really a big deal, is it? Why do you need to know so much?”

Lena wasn’t sure if the slight edge in Umire’s tone was real or just something her mind had painted. Umire didn’t even look at her—her words slipping away into the stillness of the room, the space between them stretching, unfurling, hazy.

Lena’s breath caught, throat stinging.

“Oh…” Lena murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, you’re right… haha…”

She barely heard the words coming out of her mouth as her head swirled with thoughts she thought she had locked away.