I met Eli two years ago.
Quiet guy.
Sad eyes. The kind that look like they've seen something they shouldn't have.
He didn't talk much. Just sat on the roof most evenings, watching the sky like it owed him an answer.
One day I asked,
"What are you always thinking about?"
He said, "My brother. He died last year. I was supposed to be with him that night."
I believed him. I really did.
Until I met Nathan.
Nathan was the opposite-loud, funny, confident.
He knew things about Eli that Eli never told me.
Like how Eli used to disappear for days.
Like how his brother didn't exactly die in an accident.
One night, we were all hanging out. Something about the way Nathan looked at Eli... it didn't sit right.
Like he knew something.
Like he was daring him to say it.
That same night, I had a dream. I saw Eli's brother standing in the middle of the street, looking straight at me.
He said just one thing:
"He's not the one who died."
I woke up in a cold sweat. My phone had a message from an unknown number:
"Eli didn't lose someone. He covered something up."
I didn't know what to believe.
But now I'm starting to think...
Maybe the liar isn't the one who talks too much.
Maybe it's the one who says too little.
And maybe... he's not done yet.
---
The next evening, I waited for him on the roof.
He climbed up like nothing was wrong-like I hadn't seen that message, like his past wasn't cracking through the surface.
I didn't waste time.
"Eli," I said. "What really happened to your brother?"
He froze. One foot still on the ledge, one hand gripping the rail.
Didn't sit. Didn't speak.
I stepped closer. "I know something's off. And Nathan... he knows it too."
He finally looked at me-eyes wide, breathing shallow.
Then he smiled.
But it wasn't the kind of smile that says you're wrong.
It was the kind that says you're too late.
He leaned in, just enough for me to hear:
"If I tell you... you won't sleep tonight."
---
© Qussai, all rights reserved. Do not copy, repost, or reuse without permission.