Chương 2: Chapter2: Chaotic Silence
The air was thick with a strange stillness, as I woke up at 5 a.m., a full hour before my alarm was set to go off. I found myself lying there, motionless, as my body prepared itself for the day, even though my mind fought it. Outside my window, tall trees swayed gently in the morning breeze, birds sang their songs—sweet, free, and timeless. And in that moment, I couldn't help but wonder why such peaceful beauty always felt so fleeting. One moment, I was lost in its quiet grace; the next, the alarm blared—suddenly, an hour had passed in what felt like five minutes. A piece of heaven, vanishing without warning.
I dragged myself to the kitchen, the routine of making breakfast anchoring me to the present. Two eggs, a croissant—crispy, golden—and my favorite coffee. I set my alarm, knowing all too well that I struggle with my sense of time, my mind still racing in that fog, perhaps edging toward something deeper, darker, like a shadow I couldn't outrun. While I ate, I tried to fill the empty space inside me, that void of loneliness that often felt suffocating, pushing me dangerously close to thoughts I couldn't shake.
It's strange, I thought—how could something so simple, like making my own breakfast, feel so beautiful? But then again, grown-ups always talk about how our parents do so much for us, how we're unaware of the weight they carry. Maybe they're right. Maybe we take for granted the mundane moments. I don't know. But the world feels different now—people make the most ordinary things seem important, but in the end, not studying could make you homeless, they say. But it's not always true, is it? Some people make it without ever stepping foot in a classroom. I couldn't help but argue with myself, as if my mind was a battleground. And all of this... before the day had even truly begun.
The alarm snapped me back. I grabbed my bike and rode to school, that creeping unease still following me, like a constant companion I couldn't shake. It was a Tuesday—one of those ordinary days that somehow carried a weight too heavy for such a simple word. The gym class loomed ahead. I had never liked playing on those sprawling fields, the sweat, the ball, the effort to keep up, to be part of the crowd. I always felt like I didn't belong. Stuck between the nerds and the popular kids, I hated that moment when I had to be seen, sweating, exposed. I preferred the gym, where I could work out, lost in my own world. Outside the school, when no one I knew was around, I felt... freer, somehow. I could breathe.
That day, I ran, but I was always trailing behind, out of sync, sweating more than I should have, for no reason at all. Then, out of nowhere, a new kid, Kayne, caught up to me. He asked, "Hey man, wanna skip this class?"
I was caught off guard, but I agreed, because anything, anything to avoid another two hours of the coach's perfect techniques and endless drills. We ran. And ran. Until we hit the road. I turned to Kayne and asked, "Now what?" He pulled five hundred dollars from his pocket—cash, of all things. Who brings that much money to school? He didn't answer, just grinned, leading me to a Pizza Hut where we bought a pizza, Doritos, and two large cups of Pepsi. My favorite drink.
Most of the time, he talked about his old friends, his family. I listened, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn't help but notice how his gold watch and necklaces glittered in the sunlight, reflecting directly into my eyes every time he moved. His life seemed like something foreign to me—expensive, lived in a world I couldn't reach. He spoke freely, telling me about his father's big company and his family's issues. The whole conversation made me uncomfortable. Who trusts a stranger with such intimate details, just after meeting? I didn't understand it. I sat there, barely contributing, repeating the same three words: "Okay, I know, duh." It was as if I couldn't escape the feeling that I wasn't really here, that none of this made sense to me. I kept telling myself he wasn't a true friend—not someone I could ever be myself around. But maybe he was the best option I had, better than being alone and drowning in my thoughts.
After we ate, we went back to school, showered, and then I found myself in biology class, my favorite of the day. But even here, my mind drifted. The teacher's voice faded into the background, and suddenly, I was in a place where nothing existed but the overwhelming weight of sadness. It was like I was slipping into a void, where everything around me disappeared and the dark clouds of despair wrapped themselves tighter around me. I wasn't alone, but I was. I didn't know how to ask for help. How could I? Who would listen? Even my family—how could I explain this to them? The years of pain, of feeling disconnected, of battling these thoughts that seemed to never leave. And the worst part? I had no real friends, only faces who seemed nice but felt fake, and a family that didn't know how to help.
It was then, in that black room of my mind, that I heard a voice. A girl had walked in late, and she caught my attention. Sara. She had a shiny watch, diamonds glinting in the light. I told her it was nice, but honestly, I didn't care. She replied, "Thanks, my boyfriend bought it for me from Switzerland." I didn't even bother to hide my disinterest. "I'm Sara," she said. "I'm Alex," I replied. She said "enchante" in that strange, almost rehearsed way.
But then, the teacher interrupted. He called on me to explain the process of cell division. Suddenly, I was snapped back into the room, into the present. I didn't even know what I said, but I was talking, explaining things, trying to pretend I had my life together.
The rest of the day went by like any other, and for once, I didn't feel like I was drowning in sorrow. Maybe I was just distracted, or maybe it was the silence I longed for, the quiet in my mind that I hadn't felt in so long. But even with all that, I knew the truth: not confronting my feelings was only making things worse. I couldn't keep running from myself. So, I decided—maybe, just maybe, I would try to let people in, even if it scared me. Even if it was hard to trust again. Because in the end, trying wasn't going to hurt. At least I could find some kind of peace... before life took it all away again.
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