Runaway Prince of Nothing

The mansion stood there like a sleeping giant—silent, empty, but somehow… waiting. Mocking him with every dark window. Or maybe it was embracing him, whispering, "It's okay not to be okay. Being alone doesn't make you weak." And those whispered wrapped him into cold reassurance that at least he wasn't alone.

He walked forward but he didn't go through the front door. No, that felt wrong. Instead, he slipped around back, past the wild garden, until he found them.

The graves.

His mom and dad—buried in cold stone and forgotten memories.

He sat down by his mom's tombstone, fingers brushing the carved letters like it could bring her back. But she didn't come. She never did.

The dam broke.

Tears slid down his cheeks, quiet and raw, like bleeding from the inside out. No audience. No judgment. Just him and the ghosts of better days. And when the exhaustion hit, he didn't fight it.