Dreambreaker

Echoes of the Past

Jayde sat on the edge of her bed, picking at the edge of her sleeve, waiting. It wasn't often that Simon initiated conversations, let alone ones that hinted at being personal. They hadn't spoken beyond the day-to-day in years, and now here she was, wondering what was going on in his head. Something had shifted, something she hadn't expected.

She stood and paced the small space of her room, feeling the tension build inside her chest. The unease had settled in since Simon had told her he wanted to talk. Really talk. Not the clipped, surface-level exchanges they'd been accustomed to, but something deeper. And that scared her, because if Simon was unraveling, then everything else felt like it might, too.

Jayde heard the faint sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. The quiet creak of the door nudged open, and Simon stepped inside, his posture stiff, as if unsure whether he should even be there.

"Hey," Simon greeted, his voice rougher than usual.

Jayde nodded in response, gesturing for him to take a seat on the worn armchair by the window. He moved carefully, like he didn't quite know how to hold himself, sinking into the chair like it had suddenly become foreign. His hands rested on his knees, fingers twitching as if there were words trapped in his throat, begging to get out.

She didn't know what to say at first, so they sat in silence, the quiet humming between them like a live wire. Finally, Simon spoke.

"I don't..." he trailed off, his gaze flickering to the floor. "I don't know who I am anymore."

Jayde blinked, the words settling heavily between them. Simon, who had always been so sure of himself, who had always followed the rules and kept his head down—that Simon was questioning his own identity?

She tilted her head, watching him carefully. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Simon shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair, "I've always done what's expected. Always played by the rules, right? I've followed the path laid out for me because it's what we're supposed to do. But lately... I don't know if that's enough."

Jayde furrowed her brow, not quite understanding. "Enough for who?"

"For me." His voice was low, almost a whisper, and for a moment, she thought she heard the faintest tremor in it. "I've always been so sure of what's right. The Regime—it's built on order, and order is how we survive. We follow the system because it works. It's how we keep things from falling apart."

Simon's words hung heavy in the air, and Jayde sat there, trying to piece together what he was really saying. It didn't sound like he was questioning the system itself—he wasn't challenging the Regime. He was questioning himself. His place in the grand design of it all.

"You've always done what's right," Jayde said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "At least, that's what I've always thought. You're the one who's always tried to protect me, even when you didn't need to. You made sure I followed the rules, that I stayed safe."

He winced, his jaw tightening as though the words were more of a burden than a comfort. "Yeah... I thought I was doing what was right too. But what if... what if that's not enough anymore?"