The Weight of the Truth

(POV: Me)

"You're not human."

Her words crash over me like a tidal wave. My chest tightens, my breath catches. I feel like the ground beneath me has vanished, leaving me suspended in the cold, empty sky.

I try to speak. I can't.

My hands shake. Not human.

The world around me suddenly feels unreal. The air, the trees, even the stars—like I don't belong here. Like I never did.

"No," I whisper, but my voice cracks. "You're wrong."

I want to believe that. I need to believe that.

But deep inside—I know she's right.

The strange power, the shadows hunting me, the way I've always felt like an outsider in my own life. It all makes sense now.

Tears burn at the edge of my vision. I try to blink them away, but one escapes, trailing down my cheek like a silent betrayal.

"I don't want this," I say, my voice breaking. "I never asked for this. I just… I just wanted to be normal."

She watches me, her expression unreadable. But in her eyes, I see something I didn't expect—pain.

Like she understands.

Like she's been here before.

She steps closer, hesitates, then slowly reaches out. Her fingers brush against mine—gentle, warm. A small, quiet touch, but in this moment, it feels like the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

"I know," she says softly. "I know how much it hurts."

That's all it takes.

The tears I was holding back finally fall.

I don't care anymore. I don't care if she sees me like this, broken and lost. Because for the first time, I don't feel alone.

The wind howls through the trees. The stars blur behind my tears.

And for the first time in my life—I feel like I don't know who I am.

The world feels heavy. Like I'm carrying something too big, too painful, too impossible.

I wipe my face, but the tears won't stop. I hate this. I hate feeling this weak.

"I don't know who I am anymore," I whisper. My voice is hollow, empty.

She doesn't say anything right away. She just looks at me. And somehow, that hurts more.

"You are still you," she says, voice soft but firm. "Nothing changes that."

I shake my head. She doesn't understand.

"Everything changes that!" My voice rises, shaking. "If I'm not human, then what am I? A monster? A mistake? Some… thing they created?"

I feel like I'm breaking.

The weight in my chest, the burning in my throat—I can't hold it in.

"Tell me the truth," I say, voice raw. "What am I supposed to do now? How do I even live like this?"

She steps closer, and for a moment, I think she's going to hug me. But she doesn't. Instead, she just looks at me, her eyes deep and sad.

"You survive," she says. "You keep moving forward. Even when it hurts. Even when you don't know how."

I don't know if I can.

I turn away, staring at the empty sky. The stars blur behind my unshed tears.

"I just wanted to be normal," I whisper.

She sighs. And for the first time, I hear something fragile in her voice.

"Me too," she says. And that's when I realize—she's just as lost as I am.

The wind howls, cold and empty. The night stretches around us, endless and unforgiving.

And for the first time, I wonder if I'll ever feel whole again.

The night is silent, but inside me, everything is screaming.

I sit on the school rooftop, staring at the sky. It feels endless, just like my thoughts. My chest feels tight, my hands cold. Something feels wrong.

"Why do I feel like this?" I whisper to myself.

I don't know if it's sadness, fear, or something worse. Maybe all of it.

She finds me. She always does.

"You disappeared after class," she says, stepping closer. "Are you okay?"

I want to lie. Say I'm fine. But the words don't come.

She sits next to me, hugging her knees. The wind plays with her hair, and for a second, I forget everything. Just for a second.

"Tell me what's wrong," she says. Her voice is soft, but there's something in it. Like she already knows.

I clench my fists. I can't look at her. Not now. Not after what I found out.

"I…" My voice cracks. I swallow hard. How do I even say this?

"I'm not human."

The words taste like poison in my mouth. I feel sick just saying it.

She doesn't move. She doesn't even blink.

Why isn't she shocked?

A cold feeling creeps into my chest. Does she already know?

"Say something," I whisper.

She lowers her head. I see the answer in her eyes before she even speaks.

"I knew," she says.

The world stops.

Something inside me shatters. I can't breathe. I can't think.

"You… knew?" My voice is barely a whisper. I feel like I'm drowning.

She nods, but she looks hurt too. Like this is breaking her just as much as it's breaking me.

"I wanted to tell you," she says. "But I was scared. I didn't want you to…"

She stops, biting her lip. Her eyes shine under the moonlight.

"Didn't want me to what?" My voice is sharper now, raw. I don't even recognize it.

She hesitates. And that's when I know.

She's been hiding something bigger. Something worse.

I feel dizzy. Everything crashes down at once. The bullying. The loneliness. The whispers in my head. The strange things happening to me.

All this time… she knew.

"You lied to me," I say. My heart aches. My chest feels like it's caving in. I trusted her. She was the only one I had.

She reaches out to me, but I pull away. I can't.

"I was trying to protect you," she whispers. "I was trying to keep you safe."

I laugh. But it's not a happy laugh. It's broken.

"Safe?" I whisper. "Then why do I feel like my whole world just fell apart?"

She doesn't answer. Because she knows the truth hurts more than anything.

The wind howls around us. The stars keep shining like nothing changed.

But everything has changed.

And I don't know if I can ever forgive her.