Chapter 28: Numb to the Darkness
Chapter 28: Numb to the Darkness
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The Absence of Fear
The figure is there again.
It always is.
Lurking just outside my vision, shifting in the periphery like a wound in reality.
But today—
I don't care.
No fear. No panic. No unease creeping up my spine.
Just exhaustion.
Because after what I saw earlier—
This thing doesn't matter anymore.
Compared to the real monsters in my life—
It's nothing.
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The World Feels Empty
The walk home drags on, each step heavier than the last.
The streets are quiet—too quiet. The world feels distant, like I'm moving through a place that no longer wants me.
Like I don't belong anywhere anymore.
The figure moves when I move.
A shadow that clings to me.
It's closer now.
More real.
I can feel it pressing against my back, its silent presence mirroring the weight inside me—heavy, suffocating.
Waiting.
But I don't acknowledge it.
I just keep walking.
Like it isn't there.
Like I'm not breaking apart.
When I reach home, I don't stop. I don't greet anyone. The warmth, the noise, the familiar walls—none of it matters.
I go straight to my room, shut the door, and sink into bed.
The darkness swallows me whole.
And the figure?
It stays.
Because even when everyone else has left—
It never will.
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Serena's Call – A Meaningless Habit
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I glance at the screen.
Serena.
A bitter chuckle slips past my lips.
Right on time.
Like clockwork.
Like nothing changed.
Like she isn't out there—laughing with Jason.
My fingers hesitate over the decline button.
I should ignore her.
I should cut this off now.
But my body moves on instinct.
Like I'm programmed to answer.
"...Hey."
"Derrick!" Her voice is light, a familiar warmth in it. "You took longer than usual to pick up."
I force a breath. Keep it normal.
"Got distracted."
I hear the soft rustling of her moving around. She's probably lying on her bed, phone to her ear, just like always.
Like this is any other day.
Like she isn't part of the reason I feel like I'm suffocating.
"Long day?" she asks.
My grip tightens around the phone.
I see her again—smiling up at Jason, standing so close to him.
I force my voice to stay steady. "Something like that."
There's a short silence.
Not uncomfortable. Just… normal.
A routine we've done a hundred times.
But now—
Now, it feels wrong.
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A Conversation I Don't Want
"I swear today was exhausting," Serena sighs dramatically. "I had this stupid photoshoot after school, and the photographer was so picky. I had to redo the same pose, like, a million times."
I hum in acknowledgment.
I don't care.
Not anymore.
"But at least the lighting was nice," she continues. "Oh! And guess what? The designer said they might use my pictures for a bigger campaign next season. How cool is that?"
"That's great."
I don't sound excited.
And she notices.
Her voice softens. "...You sure you're okay?"
I roll my shoulders, trying to shake off the tension crawling up my spine.
"Yeah. Just tired."
A beat of silence.
Then—
"Derrick, if something's wrong, you know you can tell me, right?"
My jaw clenches.
She says it so easily.
So genuinely.
Like she isn't the reason I feel like my entire world just collapsed.
Like she isn't his.
Like she still sees me as someone worth talking to.
What a joke.
"I know," I say. "But I'm fine."
I hear the doubt in her pause.
But she doesn't push.
Not yet.
---
Ending It Before It Hurts More
"Well," I say, forcing a yawn, "I should probably go. Gotta get some sleep."
A half-truth.
I won't sleep.
But I can't keep talking to her.
Not tonight.
Not with the image of her in Jason's arms still burned into my skull.
"...Oh. Yeah, okay," Serena says, her voice quieter than before.
Is she disappointed?
I don't know.
I don't care.
She shouldn't get to sound disappointed.
Not after today.
"Talk tomorrow?" she asks, like she always does.
A part of me wants to say no.
Wants to cut this off completely.
But the words stick in my throat.
Because if I say no—
If I stop answering—
Then what do I have left?
"...Yeah. Tomorrow."
I end the call before she can say anything else.
---
Detached from Reality
The second I lower my phone, the weight crashes back down.
The exhaustion.
The hollow ache inside my chest.
The figure lingers at the edge of my sight.
Watching.
Waiting.
I don't react.
It doesn't matter anymore.
Nothing does.
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A Mask That Finally Shatters
The mask I've worn for so long—
The one that smiled when it wanted to scream.
The one that laughed when it wanted to cry.
The one that pretended to be okay.
It's gone.
Shattered.
And in its place—
Nothing.
Not sadness.
Not anger.
Just a cold, indifferent void.
Serena's voice echoes in my mind.
Like nothing changed.
Like we're still friends.
But she doesn't know.
She doesn't know I saw.
She doesn't know that something inside me broke today.
And I won't tell her.
Because what's the point?
She already made her choice.
And now—
I'll make mine.
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A Shadow That Sits Beside Me
I sit in bed.
And the figure?
It lingers.
A silent, shadowy companion.
Its presence no longer startles me.
It feels like just another part of me.
Like it's always been there—
And always will be.
---
The World Loses Its Light
The TV hums in the background, flashing colors across the living room. My siblings sit on the couch, laughing at something on the screen.
In the kitchen, my parents talk, their voices blending with the clatter of dishes. The house is alive, filled with warmth, with movement.
But I feel none of it.
It's like I'm here, but not really. Like I'm a shadow, watching a world I'm no longer part of.
Even my own room, once a place of comfort, feels cold and distant.
It's not a refuge.
It's not a home.
Just four walls keeping me in.
And for the first time—
I don't care if I ever feel different.