The glow of the computer screen was the only light in Kade's room. Piles of empty cans and cold pizza boxes surrounded him like walls, and the hum of his monitor had long since replaced the sound of human voices.
He scrolled through a thread filled with pictures of smiling families and vacations. One post caught his eye, a young mother with her kids in the mountains.
"Finally made it to the mountains with the family! Best day ever!" the caption read.
Kade's lips curled into a smirk. His fingers flew across the keyboard.
"Congrats. Too bad your kids look miserable. Guess you needed attention more than they needed a mom. and make sure that thing do not slide."
Within seconds, the replies came flooding in.
"Why would you say that?"
"What's wrong with you?"
He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. The rush was familiar. Predictable. It gave him a twisted sense of control, proof that he could still make people feel something, even if it was anger.
He moved on, opening another tab. A video of a woman speaking about surviving assault was trending. He didn't watch for more than a few seconds before typing insensitive comments.
Every click, every insult, was another way to drown the loneliness.
But later, as he switched to a livestream, something shifted. A group of friends laughed together while gaming. Their banter was effortless, full of warmth. It should have annoyed him, but instead, something inside him ached.
"Must be nice," he muttered, barely above a whisper.
He clicked on one of their profiles. Pictures filled the screen, birthday parties, beach trips, family dinners. Each smile was a punch to the chest.
"Why them?" he said under his breath. "Why not me?"
The anger started to fade, leaving only a hollow ache. He noticed his reflection in the monitor, unshaven face, tired eyes, the pale glow of the screen turning his skin ghostly.
A message notification appeared.
"Why do you do this? What's wrong with you?"
He stared at it. The blinking cursor waited for his answer.
Finally, he typed, "Why do you care?" and hit send.
But this time, the satisfaction didn't come. The silence that followed felt heavier than ever.
He leaned back, eyes wandering to the dark window. His reflection stared back, framed by the clutter and emptiness of the room.
He whispered, "I don't want to be this person anymore. this fucking piece of shit."
The monitor flickered once, then again.
He frowned and leaned closer, tapping the keys. "Come on, not now."
The screen went black.
He blinked.
The hum of his computer vanished. The air in the room grew still, colder somehow. And then he realized, he wasn't in his room anymore.
He stood on a cracked street under a flickering lamppost. The night was silent. The air smelled of dust and ash.
All around him stretched the same ruined city that Dorian had seen, the same desolation, the same eerie stillness.
Kade took a cautious step forward, heart pounding.
"What the hell…?"
But no one answered.