The days that followed felt like a blur. It was as if time had lost its meaning, stretching out before me like an endless road with no clear destination. Each day blended into the next, and the only thing that remained constant was the nagging presence of the darkness inside me. Mara's words echoed in my mind: You don't have to do this alone. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how impossible that was. The things I had done, the things I was capable of—how could I ever share that with anyone? How could I ever ask someone to understand?
I had tried to push the darkness away, to focus on the small moments of normalcy I had tried to carve out for myself. But it always came back, creeping into my thoughts, reminding me that I couldn't escape it.
Mara seemed to sense the shift in me, though she never said anything outright. She was kind, patient, as always, and I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of guilt and gratitude when I was around her. She deserved more than this, more than someone like me, who could never truly be free of the darkness within.
One evening, a few days after our conversation, Mara invited me over again. This time, she had a more serious tone in her message. "Can we talk again? There's something important I need to share with you."
I hadn't been able to shake the unease from the last time we spoke. That subtle but palpable shift between us—it had unsettled me. But I had agreed to come. I owed her that much.
As I made my way to her apartment, I found myself oddly calm. Maybe it was the weather, the crispness of the autumn air, or maybe it was the fact that I was preparing for something I could no longer avoid. Whatever it was, I felt a strange sense of clarity as I knocked on her door.
She opened it almost immediately, her face soft with concern. "Hey," she said, offering a small, warm smile. "Come in."
I stepped inside, feeling the familiar comfort of her apartment settle around me. She had always been a beacon of stability in my life, a grounding presence that I couldn't quite explain. But lately, I had started to wonder if that stability was something I would eventually drag down with me.
She led me to the couch, where we sat in silence for a few moments. I could see the tension in her body, the way her hands fidgeted in her lap. Something was different about her this time, too. She wasn't her usual calm, collected self.
"I've been thinking a lot about us," Mara said, her voice soft but firm. "About everything we've talked about, about the way things have been between us."
I nodded, unsure of what she was getting at. I wasn't ready to talk about my struggles again—not yet. But it was clear that Mara was leading us somewhere, and I knew I couldn't avoid it.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "I think you've been hiding a lot from me. I think there's more going on with you than you've let on." She paused, her eyes searching mine, as if trying to read me. "I need to know the truth, Psychobi. I need you to be honest with me. What's really going on?"
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. My chest tightened as I tried to gather my thoughts, but the truth—my truth—felt like something too dangerous to share. How could I possibly tell her what was inside me? How could I explain that there were times when I felt like a monster, times when I wanted to let the darkness take over?
"I... I don't know what you're talking about," I said, the words coming out more sharply than I intended. I could feel the walls going up, the familiar defenses taking hold.
Mara didn't flinch. She didn't back down. "Psychobi, I know you're not okay. And I'm not going to let you hide from this anymore."
I felt a surge of anger rise within me, a heat that burned behind my eyes. She didn't know me. She didn't know what I was capable of. I had kept it all hidden, kept her in the dark, but now, she was pushing me into a corner, forcing me to confront the thing I feared the most.
"I don't need anyone's help," I said, my voice low, threatening. "I don't need you to tell me what to do."
Her eyes softened, but there was a steely resolve in them that I hadn't seen before. "I'm not telling you what to do, Psychobi. I'm telling you that I care about you. And I want to help you, even if it's hard. But I can't help you if you won't let me in."
I sat there, frozen, caught between the pull of the darkness and the pull of her sincerity. It would be so easy to walk away, to shut her out again, to push her as far away from me as possible. But the truth was, I didn't want to be alone anymore. Not like this. Not in the shadows.
"I'm not... who you think I am," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mara leaned forward, her eyes soft with understanding. "I know. But that's why I'm here. I'm not asking you to be perfect. I'm asking you to be real with me. To let me see the parts of you that you're hiding."
I swallowed hard, the words stuck in my throat. I had never let anyone see the real me. Not completely. But as I looked into Mara's eyes, I felt a flicker of something—a spark of hope, maybe. Could it be possible? Could someone truly accept me for what I was, for what I had become?
"I'm... not sure I can let you in," I whispered, feeling the weight of the admission settle over me like a burden. "But I'll try."
Mara smiled softly, her hand reaching out to touch mine. "That's all I'm asking. One step at a time."
And for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't beyond saving.
________________________
🚨 Chapter Locked!
To read the next chapter:
🔗 Copy this link: https://unlockcontent.net/cp/i/q8320?preview=1
📖 Chapter will unlock right after. Enjoy the secrets!