Dark Grey

Chapter 6: Breaking Point

Monday morning arrived with the same dull, gray light filtering through the curtains, and I could barely tell if it was dawn or dusk. The memory of the weekend still lingered, heavy and relentless. I’d barely slept, the weight of everything pressing down on me until my thoughts were a jumbled mess. The kiss with Jimmy kept replaying in my head, but instead of clarity, it only brought more confusion, more guilt. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about Jake? Why did my heart still long for someone who only brought me pain?

A loud crash from downstairs broke through my thoughts, jerking me upright in bed. My father was awake—and by the sound of it, already halfway through another bottle. I forced myself out of bed, every step toward the door weighed down by dread.

I crept downstairs, and as I reached the living room, I saw him—standing in the middle of the room, wild-eyed and furious. A shattered picture frame lay at his feet, the photo inside crumpled and torn. This one was from just over a year ago, the last picture we took as a family before everything fell apart.

Before the accident.

“Do you know what today is?” His voice was low and thick with rage, the kind of rage that terrified me to my core.

I nodded silently, not daring to speak. Today marked exactly one year since the accident that had taken my mother and older brother, Kayle, away. The day my world had shattered, leaving me alone with the shell of the man who used to be my father.

“They’re dead because of you,” he spat, taking a staggering step toward me. His breath reeked of alcohol, and his eyes were bloodshot, full of the same hatred he’d directed at me every day since the crash. “If it weren’t for you, they’d still be here! You were the one who wanted to go to that damn amusement park! It’s your fault they’re gone!”

My chest tightened, and I could barely breathe. The guilt had never left me, not since the day the truck had slammed into us, killing my mother and Kayle on impact. I had walked away with barely a scratch. Why had I been spared? Why hadn’t I been the one to die?

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, the words falling like ash from my lips. But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

“Sorry?” he roared, his voice cracking with rage. “You should’ve died too! It should’ve been you in that car, not them!”

I couldn’t take it anymore. The pain, the guilt, the never-ending blame—it was too much. Without thinking, I turned and ran. I grabbed my schoolbag and fled out the door, heart pounding as I sprinted down the street. The cold morning air stung my lungs, but it was nothing compared to the pain that was threatening to break me from the inside.

By the time I reached school, the halls were already bustling with students. I tried to blend in, keep my head down, and just disappear into the crowd. But the weight of my father’s words hung over me like a dark cloud, making it hard to focus on anything else.

As I walked to my locker, I saw Ella waiting for me. Her bright eyes immediately softened with concern as she noticed my disheveled appearance. “Jae, what happened? Are you okay?”

I forced a smile, hoping it would be enough to keep her from asking too many questions. “I’m fine, Ella. Just… tired.”

But she wasn’t buying it. “Jae, don’t lie to me. Something’s wrong. I can see it on your face. You look like you’ve been through hell.”

I winced at her words, her concern almost making the walls I’d built around myself crumble. But I couldn’t let her in—not now, not when I was barely holding myself together. “Really, I’m fine. Can we just not talk about it?”

Ella sighed, clearly frustrated, but she didn’t push further. “Okay, but if you ever need to talk, you know I’m here, right?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, avoiding her gaze as I grabbed my books and shut my locker. “Thanks, Ella.”

We walked to class together, her chatter filling the silence as I tried to focus on anything other than the storm raging inside me. But it was no use. No matter how hard I tried to push it down, the guilt, the shame, and the ache of longing for something I couldn’t have kept clawing their way to the surface.

Class was a blur. The teachers’ voices droned on, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything they were saying. My mind kept drifting back to the memory of my father’s angry words, the image of my mother’s smiling face in the broken photograph, and the twisted mess of emotions I felt whenever I thought of Jake. I could still see his face so clearly in my mind, the way he looked at me with those icy eyes that hid something deeper—something I couldn’t quite understand.

But why did I care so much? Why did I still feel this way, even after everything Jake had done? Why did my heart refuse to let go, even when my mind knew it was pointless? The questions kept spinning in my head, each one more frustrating than the last.

By the time lunch rolled around, I was exhausted—emotionally, mentally, physically. I sat with Ella, picking at my food while she continued to talk, trying to lift my spirits with her usual humor. But I could barely muster a laugh, the heaviness in my chest making it hard to breathe.

“Jae, you’re really starting to worry me,” Ella said softly, placing a hand on my arm. “Whatever’s going on, you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m your friend—I want to help.”

I looked at her, her earnest expression tugging at something inside me. But what could I say? How could I explain the mess that was my life? The truth was, I didn’t even know how to put it into words. So I just nodded, giving her another forced smile. “I know, Ella. Thanks.”

But the truth was, I wasn’t fine. I wasn’t okay. And I didn’t know how much longer I could keep pretending I was.