Part IV · Fallout

The Truth

I thought you’d leave me shattered— pieces on the floor, too jagged to hold, too broken to sweep. Like the vase my childhood friends destroyed, laughing— wanting joy without the cost. But consequence is cruel. It waits. It doesn’t land until everything is silent. I could scream until my throat gave out, and you’d still only hear the volume— never the wound, never the grief, never the demons you summoned in me. You told me, "Stop yelling." But you never heard the silence beneath it. I was never loud— just unheard. Always second. To him. And when I told you that hurt, you said— "I'm just being honest." "I don’t know what you expected." "Can you blame me?" Each excuse measured like venom, twisting the blade deeper. A reaper with a hollow heart, harvesting mine from the start.