𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫 | 𝐒. 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 ✔️

Chapter XXVIII

I've got zero months left. Half a day, and then I'm gone.

The plan I had from the beginning is turning out, but in a much weirder way than I ever expected. I thought I had it figured out, that I could disappear without anyone knowing. But now... it's different.

I couldn't even write any goodbye letters, not that I had the courage to anyway. But now, it's impossible. I don't have fingers anymore—at least, not fully. The tips are gone, fading with every breath I take. It's disturbing, to say the least. A sickening reminder of how little time I have left.

I'm hiding it, though. Hiding the evidence. I pull the sleeves of my hoodie over my hands, even though the temperature is unbearable. Sweat sticks to my skin, but it's the only way to keep it hidden—what's left of me. I'm just about to leave.

My plan was always to disappear. Just vanish. No one would ever know what happened. That was the idea—my idea.

But now... it feels like I'm not the one making the decisions anymore. Like I'm being pulled along by some invisible force, and there's no turning back.

I take one last look around the room—empty, quiet. The world outside feels so far away now. I should be scared. I should be freaking out, but all I feel is the weight of inevitability. The countdown has started, and there's nothing left to stop it.

I step toward the door, pulling the hood tighter over my head. I take a deep breath. It's time. I'll go missing. And maybe—just maybe—this is what I was meant for all along.

My parents are asleep, their breathing slow and steady, unaware of the storm that's about to hit. I hugged them like I've never hugged them before, kissed them like it was the last time I would ever get the chance.

It felt wrong, in a way, like I was holding onto them too tightly, as if my love for them could somehow tether me to this life. But I know better. I know I'm slipping away, and the worst part is—I can't stop it.

I glance at their closed door, my heart shattering in the silence. I'm going to miss them—like crazy.

I try to fight it. I try to hold back the tears. But they come anyway. Hot, heavy, relentless. I can't even stop them from falling.

I'm going to miss my life. The small things. The way my mom's laugh echoes through the house. The way my dad pats me on the back, like everything's going to be okay.

But more than anything, I'm going to miss him.

Gojo.

I can't figure out what I want anymore. What's right. What's worth it. But one thing is clear—if he ever really cared for me, he would be just as broken as I am right now. That's why I'm leaving. I'm making the choice for them. For him. For my parents to forget me, to move on without this weight of confusion and pain. For them to think it was my decision, my choice, my way of handling things.

Maybe it's better this way.

I wipe my tears, but they keep coming. I don't even bother to stop them now. There's no point. There's no future for me here, and I know that. But god, I wish there was.

The door creaks as I push it open, the cool night air rushing in. Even though my feet are almost entirely gone, dissolving into nothing with each step, I still walk. Slowly. Hesitantly. But I walk.

I walk, leaving everything behind. My childhood, my memories, the warmth of my home.

I walk, leaving my parents. The people who gave me life, who loved me unconditionally, never knowing that this moment would come.

I walk, leaving Gojo. His face, his touch, the moments we shared, now distant echoes in the back of my mind.

And so I walk until I can't anymore. My body is giving up on me, each step feeling heavier than the last. The tears blur my vision, but I don't wipe them away. I let them fall, because there's nothing left to stop them.