Chapter 28: "The Disappearing Act"
Zariah didn't remember the walk home.
She remembered stepping out of the school gates. She remembered Jasmine walking beside her. But everything in between was fog. Noise. Blurs of color and movement that didn't mean anything.
Her head was loud. Her body was empty.
She barely remembered saying goodbye.
By the time she got home, the house was dark. Her mom's room door was closed again. Locked. Silent.
Zariah didn't knock.
She didn't want to hear "I'm tired." Or "I'm just resting." Or worse—nothing at all.
She dropped her bag on the floor and stared at the hallway mirror. Her eyes were sunken. Her lips cracked. Her skin pale. She didn't even look like herself anymore.
She touched her cheek. Cold.
Then she whispered the thing she'd been avoiding all day.
"I don't think I want to be here anymore."
The words didn't echo. They just sank into the walls, absorbed by the silence. Like the house had heard it all before and stopped listening.
She went to her room.
Sat on her bed.
Then lay down.
She didn't cry.
She just stared at the ceiling and imagined disappearing. Not dying in some dramatic way. Just not existing. Like maybe she never had.
Maybe the world would be better off if it didn't have to carry her weight anymore.
Her phone buzzed.
Jasmine: You okay? I miss your voice.
Zariah didn't respond.
Not because she didn't care.
But because she wasn't sure if she still could.
She closed her eyes.
The thoughts were swirling again.
What if she just… slipped away?
What if one night, Jasmine didn't knock in time?
What if no one found her until it was too late?
And worse—what if they did find her… and nothing changed?
She sat up suddenly, heart racing. Something in her chest clenched so hard it hurt. Like her own body was warning her—You're close. Too close.
Zariah looked at the razor hidden in her drawer. It was calling again. But louder this time. Clearer. Like it knew she was listening.
She stood up.
Then sat back down.
Then stood up again.
Then—
A knock on the door.
"Zariah?" her mom's voice, muffled. "You okay?"
She froze.
It was the first time her mother had spoken to her in days.
Her voice was hoarse. Weak. Like she'd been crying too.
Zariah opened her mouth.
But nothing came out.
She looked at the door. Then the drawer. Then the mirror.
Three choices.
Three versions of her life.
And she had no idea which one to choose.