“The Vanishing One? What a fitting name for you. No home, no family, no friends. You’re nothing.”

  Her words struck like knives—slow, deliberate, merciless. I couldn't speak. My tongue felt frozen, the air too heavy to breathe. His cold eyes, the lifeless smile, and the creeping darkness closing in made the world feel like it was collapsing around me.

  My legs moved with weight, like I was sinking into endless mud. I turned away without looking back. Everything in me screamed to flee, like even my body refused to stay a second longer. With every step away from that place, the voices faded, and the darkness deepened.

  I stopped at the end of the street, unaware of how I even got there. I looked up—and there it was. The house. My house.

  But… why does it feel like it doesn’t belong to me?

  Why does it resemble a prison made of silent walls?

  When I left that house—my own personal hell—I wasn’t the same person.

  It felt like something inside me shattered, scattered into the wind.

  But who was I before all this? Just a child?

  Or someone who no longer exists?

  Maybe I was just a boy watching his world burn, without the power to put out the flames.

  ---

  "Mom… what are you doing? Why are you drinking at this hour?"

  I stood at the doorway. She was staring into her glass as if searching for answers inside it.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  She looked up sharply, her expression fierce:

  "And now you're judging me?"

  Her voice cracked like a whip—just a spark before the storm.

  "But Mom—"

  I didn’t finish.

  The glass flew from her hand, shattering on the floor into a hundred sharp pieces.

  Red wine spread like a scar across the tiles, a silent witness to what was about to happen.

  Then she charged toward me—grabbed my shirt, pulling me close.

  Angry words, alcohol-laced breath, fists hitting without mercy.

  I stopped feeling.

  Everything blurred—light faded, voices echoed far away…

  And then, darkness swallowed me whole.

  ---

  When I opened my eyes, the white hospital ceiling greeted me—cold, lifeless.

  It had been three days since that night, and I was preparing to leave.

  But did I really leave anything behind?

  There was no one to go home to.

  No shelter.

  No one waiting for me.

  Even three days later, when I finally returned to the house… no one welcomed me.

  It was as if I didn’t matter.

  Days blurred into endless nights. Silence strangled the daylight, and each night, hell returned.

  One night, as I lay in bed, fearing my mother would come back and do it all over again, I heard the door creak open.

  “Kotaru... Hey, are you awake?”

  It was my sister.

  She walked in quietly and sat beside me. In her eyes, there was something I hadn’t seen in a long time—warmth.

  With a gentle, yet firm voice, she said:

  "Kotaru, don’t let their words destroy you. You are not what people say you are. You’re stronger than you think. You’re more than just someone they label. You are not a burden... never believe that."

  Her words pierced through me like a small light cutting through endless night.

  Something heavy lifted from inside, and tears began falling silently down my cheeks.

  I didn’t say a word.

  She just stayed beside me, gently stroking my hair… until I drifted to sleep in her arms.

  ---

  Present Day:

  Years have passed, but the memories still haunt me.

  I can’t shake them, nor the words burned into my mind.

  “You’re the reason for all of this.”

  Was I really the cause?

  Did I destroy everything?

  My name is Kotaru Ozawa, 17 years old.

  A second-year student at Omiya Sakura High School.

  To everyone else, I’m just another student—normal, quiet, attending classes and participating like everyone else.

  But the truth?

  Every single day, I fight a battle... with myself.

  Every morning, I wear a new mask, trying to convince myself I’m okay.

  But I’m not.

  My body may have healed, but something inside me never did.

  There are wounds that can’t be seen—wounds that dig deep into the soul.

  I can’t run from them.

  I can’t stop thinking about what was.

  The pain remains.

  The struggle continues.

  ---

  Thank you for reading this far.

  This is my very first novel, and I know it might have flaws or confusing moments. But I’m grateful for your understanding.

  The story will grow stronger in the chapters to come, God willing.

  To be continued...