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The Lonely Killer

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20

I didn’t go home.

Home was just four walls pretending to be something more.

It was too quiet,

Too loud,

Too filled with things

I didn’t want to remember.

Instead, I walked.

Through streets

I didn’t recognize, past faces

I didn’t care to see.

The city was alive, buzzing with meaningless noise,

While inside me silence.

The kind that suffocates.

I found myself at the edge of a bridge.

The water below was dark,

Endless, like it could swallow me whole and leave nothing behind.

That sounded nice.

No more questions.

No more hunger.

No more me.

I climbed over the railing,

The cold metal biting into my palms.

The wind was sharp against

My face, whispering things

I couldn’t understand.

Would it hurt?

I hoped so.

I deserved it.

My fingers loosened.

And then—I froze.

Not because I was afraid of dying.

But because, for the first time,

I felt something worse than fear.

Emptiness.

I realized I wasn’t scared of death.

I was scared that even after death,

I’d still feel like nothing.

What if there was no relief?

What if the silence followed me?

I Gripped the railing tighter,

Trembling not from the cold,

But from the weight of it all crashing down.

The detective’s face flashed in my mind again.

His words.

Detective

"You’re slipping."

I thought dying would be an escape.

But it wasn’t.

It was just another Dark room with no door.

I climbed back over,

Collapsing onto the ground, gasping like I’d been underwater.

I couldn’t die.

Not because I wanted to live

But because death felt too easy.

And I didn’t deserve easy.

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Updated 42 Episodes

Part 2: 1

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