Destined to be

Ben was the kind of person you could rely on—always willing to listen, always ready to give. At work, he picked up extra tasks for coworkers who were "too busy." He was the first to volunteer to stay late, the last to take credit. With his friends, he was the quiet one, the one who always listened, nodded along, and bought the next round even if his own pockets were stretched thin.

For as long as he could remember, Ben had felt like something was missing inside him, like he was walking around with a weight pressing down on his chest, making it harder to breathe, harder to live. He'd tried talking to therapists before, but it never seemed to help. Every time he tried to explain the hollow ache inside him, he'd watch them nod, scribbling in their notebooks, and then hear the same rehearsed platitudes about "self-care" and "finding joy."

But there was no joy. There was only the suffocating loneliness, the endless cycle of working, giving, and being left with nothing but the quiet sadness that followed him like a shadow. And every time he tried to put himself first, the world seemed to slap him down harder.

In the quiet moments of his day, Ben's mind drifted into darker places. He started thinking about what it might be like if he just... wasn't around anymore. The thoughts came slowly at first, creeping in when he lay in bed at night. But soon, they were constant, a whispering presence he couldn't shake. No one would even notice if you were gone. He began to wonder if he could just disappear—if the world would even feel the difference.

But even then, he never let his pain show. He kept smiling at his coworkers, kept buying his friends drinks they never thanked him for. He tried his best to be the kind of person everyone else could lean on, even as he felt himself cracking inside. Until, one night, everything changed.

It was a rainy Wednesday, one of those bleak evenings when he walked home alone, soaked to the bone, exhausted from another day at work where Jill, his boss, had humiliated him in front of the whole team. "Ben, if you spent as much time actually working as you do on coffee breaks, maybe you'd be meeting deadlines." Everyone had laughed, and he'd laughed with them, keeping up the act. But something in him had shattered then.

That night, alone in his tiny apartment, he stared at his own reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror. The weight in his chest felt unbearable. He opened the cabinet and stared at the rows of pills, feeling a dark pull in the pit of his stomach. He thought about ending it all. He thought about slipping away into nothingness, leaving the pain and loneliness behind.

But then, an idea came to him, sharp and bitter. Why should I be the one to leave? Why should I be the one to disappear, when they're the ones who treat me like nothing?

It was a twisted thought, one he'd never allowed himself before. But it felt... right. For the first time, he thought about what it might feel like to push back, to let others feel a fraction of the pain he'd been carrying for so long. The people who'd taken advantage of him, ignored him, belittled him—they deserved to feel some of this darkness too.

From then on, something shifted in Ben. He still smiled, still played the part of the kind, quiet friend, but now there was a glint in his eye that wasn't there before. He'd help his coworkers, but he'd leave out just enough information to let them fail. He'd still buy his friends drinks, but he'd spread rumors behind their backs, just enough to stir distrust.

It felt wrong at first, but each small act of sabotage made him feel lighter. Like he was finally regaining control, finally making his presence felt. And as the weeks went on, Ben found himself slipping further and further into this new role—a dark, quiet villain cloaked in kindness.

In his mind, they all deserved it. They'd taken his kindness for granted, used him up until he had nothing left. Now, he'd take back every piece of himself they'd stripped away, no matter what it took.