That night, everything was too loud.
The ceiling creaked. The fridge hummed. The wind scratched at the window like it wanted in. Zariah lay in bed, eyes wide open, unable to blink the darkness away. Her room was silent, but her mind was screaming.
She turned to face the wall.
Her phone buzzed again.
Jasmine: Still here. Just checking. Text me if you need anything. Even if it's nothing.
Zariah stared at the message until her eyes blurred. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, wanting to type I'm fine. But that would be a lie. And right now, lying felt like swallowing nails.
She turned off the screen.
Her wrist ached, but not from pain. From pressure. Like her body remembered what she'd done, even if her heart hadn't caught up.
She tried closing her eyes.
Tried pretending she was somewhere else.
Anywhere else.
But that's when the voices started whispering again.
You're still here? Why?
No one would miss you.
You keep dragging her down too.
She bit her lip until it bled. Clenched her fists. Curled into herself.
The truth was—it was getting worse. The breakdowns weren't loud. They were silent and shaking and invisible to everyone but Jasmine. But even Jasmine couldn't stop this... whatever this was.
A kind of disappearing. A slow vanishing of self.
She got out of bed.
Not because she wanted to.
But because something inside her needed to move. Needed to do something.
She crept to the bathroom again. The moonlight spilling through the window made everything look silver. Cold. Like the world had forgotten how to be warm.
She opened the drawer.
The blade was still there.
And for a long, long moment, she just stared at it.
Then she heard something.
A tap. Soft. Like a knock.
Her head jerked toward the window.
It was Jasmine.
Outside. In the cold. Hoodie pulled up. Arms folded. Looking up at Zariah's room like she knew.
Zariah's knees buckled.
She dropped the blade. It clattered against the sink. Loud. Final.
She ran to the window and opened it, hands shaking. "What are you doing here?" she whispered.
Jasmine's voice was fierce. "I couldn't sleep. I had this feeling—like I had to come. Tell me I was wrong."
Zariah couldn't.
She just shook her head, eyes glassy.
Jasmine's expression crumpled. "Then come down. Please. I won't leave until you do."
Zariah backed away from the window, breath uneven.
And somehow, her legs moved. Down the stairs. Out the door.
Into the night.
Into Jasmine's arms.
And for once, she didn't feel like she had to hide.