Chapter 17: ()

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a hallway that isn’t there

a shadow without a source

a name he thinks he hears — but no one said it

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his hands look smaller than before

or maybe they’re not his

or maybe he doesn’t have hands anymore

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a girl on the rooftop, wind in her hair

but when he blinks

it’s just the empty railing

with one shoe left behind

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a desk carved with a word

he doesn’t know the language

but he feels like it hurt

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a scent — faint, sweet

like someone he once loved

or never met

or made up

or killed

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a classroom door creaks

he turns

no one

not even air

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a voice — “you promised”

he opens his mouth to reply

but his mouth isn’t there

his lips never learned the shape of forgiveness

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rain against glass

but when he reaches out

it’s blood

then static

then nothing

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he’s walking again

floor doesn’t exist

walls don’t touch the ceiling

his shadow walks ahead of him

but never turns around

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a girl’s face

almost

almost

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white space

white walls

white mind

he breathes out

but it makes no sound

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no thoughts remain

only one echo

not words

not memories

just a rhythm

like breathing

like falling

like being unmade

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and then

he forgets

what it was he was waiting to forget

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