Whispers of the Past

7

Devishi POV

Some words that leave your mouth can sometimes be the last thing someone ever hears. Those words, often spoken in haste or anger, can linger in your mind, replaying like a broken record, each repetition slicing deeper into your heart. After those words, a profound sense of regret floods your brain—a regret that if only you were kinder, if only you could take them back and show how much of a lie they were. You never meant those words; they were not even real. But you are too late for that. The opportunity to amend has vanished, leaving you haunted by the echo of your own voice.

When you sit all alone, replaying those last words, those memories are a painful reminder of your helplessness. They highlight how you were not strong enough or what could have been done differently to save a situation... or someone. This realization doesn't just sting; it envelops you in a sudden, paralyzing numbness. Every moment stretches painfully, each second feeling like an agonizing eternity. What seems like a fleeting two minutes to everyone else drags on for you, cruelly infinite. With every breath, denial creeps in, and a false hope ignites within you—a desperate fantasy of turning back time, of rewinding every moment that led to that fateful point.

As reality shatters this illusion, and a reluctant acceptance begins to take root, your belief in yourself starts to wither. Resentment sprouts and spreads, like a poison ivy creeping over your soul. You grow bitter towards your situation, towards the people around you, towards the relentless march of time, towards the circumstances that trapped you, towards God, towards everything in general. Every emotion spills over uncontrollably, and even the smallest inconvenience overwhelms you. You get lost in yourself, drowning in a maelstrom of unnamed emotions. These moments don't just hurt—they crush your soul, breaking you beyond repair. A gaping hole of loneliness becomes a permanent scar on your personality, a shadow that follows you everywhere.

They start out slow, these feelings, but they gradually begin to feast on you, consuming you bit by bit. And yet, despite this inner turmoil, you feel the unyielding urge to act like everything is okay. You wear a mask of normalcy, hiding the storm raging inside. More than lying to others, you lie to yourself; "I am fine" becomes your new mantra, repeated so often that it almost feels true. You plaster on a smile, even though it's exhausting, because you don't want to be a burden to everyone. You don't want the ones who are left to abandon you as others did.

The constant vigilance takes its toll. You feel the need to always be on guard, as feeling threatened becomes a daily reality. Sleep becomes your only refuge, a friend who offers a brief escape from the haunting reality. In your dreams, you find solace, embracing the fantasies that soothe your battered soul. But when you wake, the cold light of day shatters those illusions, revealing them as cruel pranks played on yourself. The dreams that once comforted you begin to betray you, morphing into nightmares that plague your restless nights. Still, you cling to sleep, hoping against hope that the past dreams will return, that your fantasies, the reality you once knew, will come back to you.

Waking up becomes a dreaded ritual, each morning a harsh slap from reality. At this point, sleep is no longer just a refuge; it is your constant companion, the only one that stays by your side. To escape the pain of the real world, you retreat into sleep again and again. You fall into an endless cycle, where waking up requires an energy you no longer possess. You have none to spare, none to muster up the strength to face the present, to stop hoping to change the past.

As you lie in bed, the weight of your grief pressing down on you, the silence is deafening. The world outside moves on, oblivious to your suffering. The clock ticks relentlessly, each second a reminder of the life you're not living, the people you're not seeing, the dreams you're not chasing. You become a ghost in your own life, drifting through days without purpose, without joy. The things that once brought you happiness now feel hollow and distant, like echoes of a past you can never reclaim.