Some things were easier left unsaid. Like how Zariah hated the sound of loud noises, and how she also hated the sound of the brakes on the bus, because those things reminded her about the night everything changed. Or how certain smells Made her stomach twist for a reason she couldn't explain. She didn't talk about dreams that had her heart racing, or the way her chest tightend every time someone asked if she was okay. Because the truth was complicated. And the truth was scary. So instead she smiled nodded. She said "I'm fine."
She wasn't fine when she walked past room 108,when her hands would start to tremble. Nobody knew what happened in there. It was just the old storage room to everyone else, but to her, it was the place where Mr. Harmon had cornered her last year after detention. She didn't tell anyone. Not because she didn't want to, but because he said no one would believe her and she believed him. He smiled while he said it, the same way he smiled in class. And he still worked there. Still walked the halls. Still said 'Good morning ' like he hadn't shattered her.
That was one of the things she never said.
Zariah sat in class, staring blankly at the whiteboard as her teacher talked about ancient civilizations. Her hands were folded neatly on her desk, her posture perfect. No one could tell she was counting how many days she had left in the school year. Fifty three. Unless she got out early. Unless she made it stop . Unless she disappeared.
She thought about it sometimes. Disappearing. Not like running away away. Like...gone. For good. She imagined how quiet it would be. How peaceful. But then she'd see Jasmine's face, or her mom's tired eyes when she worked double shift, just to keep food on the table,and the guilt would pull her back, like an anchor. Still, the thoughts never left. They stayed tucked in her chest, like a secret folded into her lungs, making it hard to breathe. At lunch, Jasmine slid a note across the table. " Wanna hang after school?". Zariah stared at it for a moment too long. Then nodded. Because saying yes is easier than explaining why she didn't want to go home today. Home meant pretending to sleep through her mom's crying in the next room. Home meant avoiding the razor blade she had in her pencil box. But the urge was still there, like a whisper in the back of her mind. And yet that scared her most of all.
She looked around the cafeteria and wondered if she killed herself if they would notice. But she stayed there and kept silent. Hoping to one day dissappear.