twlvthr
They say madness is loud.
Screaming. Thrashing. Breaking things that were never meant to be broken.
But that's a lie.
Madness is quiet.
It's the girl sitting at the edge of a third-floor balcony, swinging her legs like she's waiting for a bell to ring. It's the boy flicking a lighter open and close, open and close, like he's trying to keep his hands busy so they don't do something worse.
It's the space between a heartbeat and the next one-when you almost wish it wouldn't come.
Madison Dela Cruz didn't jump because she wanted to die.
That's what everyone got wrong.
She jumped because, for a second, she wanted to feel the wind claw at her skin. She wanted gravity to choose her. She wanted something-anything-to be loud enough to drown the silence inside her chest.
And when she hit the ground, the world finally screamed back.
Bones cracked. People shouted. Someone cried.
For a moment, she felt everything.
Then nothing again.
-
Across town, Maddox Lopez watched a flame curl around the edge of paper, slow and hungry.
Fire was honest like that. It didn't pretend.
It consumed. It destroyed. It made things real.
He liked that.
What he didn't like was how people looked at him when they found out. Like he was the flame instead of the one holding the match.
Like he was the danger.
Maybe he was.
-
They would meet in a place where doors locked from the outside.
Where silence had weight.
Where smiles were monitored, and pain had paperwork.
A place where broken people were sent not to be fixed-
but to be contained.
And somehow, in a world that made less and less sense the more you tried to understand it...
They would find each other.
Not as saviors.
Not as lovers.
Not at first.
But as something far more dangerous:
People who finally felt seen.
And in a mad world like this-
that might be the most destructive thing of all.