Hollowness

Realizing something was terribly wrong, I rushed to the school, determined to confront James Bennett face-to-face. But when I arrived, breathless, at the Information Technology office, all I found were empty desks and chairs. A teacher nearby glanced at me and said flatly, "James Bennett? He resigned. Left last week."

I stood frozen, my ears ringing, as if my entire world had just collapsed in that instant.

A storm of emotions raged inside me—anger, helplessness, self-blame, and a deep, searing humiliation. I turned and ran back home, barely aware of my own movements. Slamming my laptop shut, I stared at the dark screen, where my own reflection stared back at me—exhausted, lost. I had thought I was on a path to a brilliant future, only to find that the road led straight into a bottomless abyss.

My gaze fell to the mess of documents on my desk—contracts, investment records, James Bennett's so-called "business plans"—papers that once filled me with hope but now only made me sick. I grabbed one at random, crumpled it into a tight ball, and hurled it against the wall. It struck, bounced off, and fell limply to the ground, just like my life—thrown down by reality, shattered into pieces.

I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms, hoping the pain would snap me out of this nightmare. But it was useless. My breathing was ragged, my heartbeat racing as my body refused to recover from the shock. I had never imagined I would fall into such a meticulously crafted trap. Never imagined I would trust James Bennett so completely, blindly following him straight into ruin.

"Why? How could I be this stupid?"

The words slipped out in a whisper, thick with anger and shame. I had always prided myself on my intelligence, my judgment. And yet, here I was—just another fool led by the nose. I thought back to all the times I had trusted James Bennett, had seen him as a mentor, even as a guiding figure in my life. I remembered how, whenever I hesitated, he would speak with unwavering confidence:

"Trust me. One day, you'll thank yourself for this decision."

And now? What was there to be thankful for? Should I be grateful for being played like a puppet? For throwing my savings into a project that never even existed? For failing to ask the most basic, necessary questions?

A surge of fury shot through me. I sprang to my feet and swept the documents off my desk in one violent motion, sending them fluttering to the floor. I had once been so meticulous in managing every investment, and now, all I could do was watch everything go up in smoke.

But more than the financial loss, what truly crushed me was the overwhelming sense of being utterly lost.

Once upon a time, I had believed I was on the road to success, convinced that perseverance would lead me to a bright future. I had been passionate about technology, eager for innovation. I had thought I had found a shortcut—a fast track to the top. I had planned my future with confidence, envisioned the heights I would reach in just a few years.

But now, those dreams lay in pieces around me, ripped apart and scattered on the floor.

Where was I supposed to go from here?

For months, I had poured everything—my time, my energy, my focus—into this scam, forgetting what I had once loved. It had been so long since I last wrote a meaningful line of code, truly explored a new technology, or felt the pure satisfaction of solving a difficult problem. James Bennett had convinced me that technology was just a tool, that capital was the real power. But now, I finally saw the truth: I had abandoned my original passion for nothing more than an illusion.

Slowly, I sank back into my chair, leaning against its cold, unforgiving frame, my gaze unfocused on the ceiling above. A crushing weight pressed down on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I had thought I was standing at the threshold of success.

But now, the door was gone.

The road had disappeared.

And I was left standing alone at the edge of a barren wasteland, with no idea where to go next.

How was this supposed to end?