25 Parte Ongoing MatureI wear a mask so well that even I almost believe it. Almost.
Then I met him. His eyes were hollow, his smile a lie-just like mine. In him, I saw my own reflection, the same quiet suffering hidden beneath perfect façades. For the first time, I wasn't alone.
But happiness is always fleeting. One moment, he was there. The next, he was gone. A fall from a rooftop. A life stolen too soon.
Now, the world feels unreal. Shadows shift. Whispers grow louder. And in the corner of my vision, I still see him.
If he's gone... why does it feel like he never left?