Dark Room - Chapter 2

 


 

The room is silent except for the haunting strains of Lacrimosa playing softly in the background. A faint glow from the moon seeps through the curtains, barely illuminating the figure sitting on the edge of a tidy bed. Shadows dance on the walls as the music crescendos.

He leans forward, head in his hands, his voice breaking the oppressive silence.

"The relations... They're the most complicated thing I've ever faced."
His voice is low, almost a whisper, yet heavy with frustration. He sits up, staring at nothing in particular, his eyes reflecting a storm of emotions.

"I’ve always used my brain to judge things, to find a way through any situation. But this..."
He gestures vaguely, his hand trembling slightly.
"This kind of thing—relationships—it’s different. Harder. It’s like... I can’t see the way out."

He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.
"They leave. Without goodbyes. They just... leave. No feelings. No caring. No mercy."

He stands abruptly, pacing the room, the weight of his words filling the space.
"But I see the signs. I’ve been here before. I know them too well."

Stopping by the window, he looks out into the darkness, his reflection faint against the glass.
"I don’t get attached easily. But once I do..."
He clenches his fists, his voice faltering.
"It’s hard to let go."

His breath quickens as his voice rises.
"Somehow, I manage. I endure the feelings of being let down, of betrayal. But the scars... God, the scars—they cut so deep they’ve left me numb."

Turning away from the window, he slumps back onto the bed.
"And then they ask me why. Why?"
He shakes his head, laughing bitterly again.
"I’m the one who should be asking why! Why did they do this to me? I’m living my life, running from the answer I’ll never have."

He buries his face in his hands, his voice cracking.
"I’m sorry... I’m just tired. Exhausted. I don’t even know what path I’m on anymore. How long will this torture last?"

A moment of silence stretches as Lacrimosa swells, filling the room with an overwhelming sense of despair.

"I’ve tried to hold back my anger, but it’s only caused me more pain."
He looks up, his face etched with sorrow and anger.
"No one cares. No one understands. And now, the hate—it’s taking over. It’s consuming me."

His voice drops to a whisper, barely audible over the music.
"I’ve lost my energy. My ambition. And now... I’m losing my mind."

The music fades to a soft, lingering note as he collapses back onto the bed, the weight of his words hanging in the air. The room falls silent once again, save for his shallow, uneven breaths.

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