The days passed with the same rhythm.
On the school bench, beneath skies that were sometimes cloudy, sometimes clear, Beatrice and I sat side by side as usual.
But since yesterday, something felt different.
Beatrice... was silent.
She often stared blankly, as if speaking to a shadow only she could see.
I asked questions in my mind, but never dared to voice them.
Sometimes she frowned. Sometimes she sighed.
I wanted to ask—but I was afraid to intrude.
---
The next day, the school felt even quieter.
The seat beside me was empty.
Beatrice was gone.
I heard from murmurs between classmates: she'd been sent abroad for a student exchange program.
"Abroad?" I echoed in my head.
Gone, just like that. Like wind I could never hold.
---
In the days that followed, I tried to fill the space she left behind.
But it wasn't just emptiness—it was a kind of room that opened up inside my chest.
A room to try new things.
A room to open myself to others.
A room to ask who I was, without depending on anyone else.
---
In that new class, a foreign girl arrived.
Blonde hair, gleaming under the morning light.
She looked like a star—untouchable. Everyone noticed her, but from a distance.
As if an invisible wall separated her from the world.
---
I watched her.
Every day.
In the hallway, the library, the canteen.
A figure wrapped in mystery… and loneliness.
Just like me.
---
I tried to approach her.
But it felt like a stone in my stomach.
That day, I followed her to a quiet garden behind the school.
When I tried to speak, my voice cracked. My heart raced.
I stammered. Said too much, or maybe not enough.
Her eyes widened, her face tense.
"Why are you following me?" she asked softly, uncertain.
I froze.
"Sorry", I muttered.
I had only frightened her.
---
I walked home with heavy steps.
That failure hurt—but I knew it wasn't the end.
I had to learn again.
Learn how to open up—not just for Beatrice,
but for myself.
---
That night, I sat at my desk, staring at the dark sky beyond the window.
The night wind carried a whisper of hope.
A kind of silence that spoke with honesty.
And then I remembered something...
The voices.
The other selves that used to emerge in my darkest hours.
They spoke when I couldn't.
Stood when I collapsed.
They grinned and said, "It's okay. We're here."
But now?
Silence.
I called them in my mind—one by one, by name, by shape, by voice.
But no one answered.
No mocking laughter.
No gentle whispers.
No arguments inside my cramped thoughts.
I was truly alone.
---
I once thought this was what I wanted.
To be "normal." To be one. To be at peace.
But now… without them, I felt like an empty shell without an echo.
I asked myself:
Is this really me?
Or just the quiet version of a war-torn ruin?
This Ray… could he be just the leftover of something that surrendered?
How ironic.
Peace had come—and yet, I missed the chaos.
I missed them.
I missed who I was: layered, cracked… but can be anyone.
---
The next day, I tried again.
The girl was sitting alone on the steps near the field, far from everyone else.
A rare chance, like a gap in a high wall.
No more voices to guide me.
No more alternate selves to blame.
Just me. The Ray who remains.
---
"H-Hi…" I said softly.
She turned, eyes cool but unsure.
I tried to smile—though it probably looked more like a grimace.
"I just wanted to say… I'm sorry about yesterday."
She said nothing, just gave a small nod, and looked away again.
I stood there for a few more seconds. Searching for words. But my mind froze.
So I gave up. I bowed slightly… and left.
Another failure.
---
That night, I sat alone in my room again.
For the first time, I didn't cry. Didn't rage. Didn't talk to myself.
I just let out a quiet sigh.
Maybe… this is how I have to live now.
As me.
This bare, fragile me.
But deep in my chest, there was still an empty space.
A space once filled by them.
And I didn't know if they'd ever return.
Or if I had to learn to live without them.
Sometimes, loneliness isn't the absence of others—
but the silence of the voices that once saved us from falling apart.
---
The next day, the sky was a pale blue—like feelings left unfinished.
I had just set my bag down when someone stood in front of me.
Blonde hair, soft curls swaying in the wind. Her fingers fidgeted, eyes avoiding mine.
The girl.
The one who had made me lose all words yesterday.
---
"What is it?" I asked quietly.
She hesitated. Then took a deep breath, like someone about to dive into a cold ocean.
"I… just wanted to explain something…"
I looked at her and nodded.
She lowered her head. "I was… scared of you."
The world stilled.
---
"Because of the rumors?" I asked.
She nodded slowly.
"They said you were weird… always alone… sometimes talking to yourself… and... you maybe can hurt me..."
I nodded too. There was nothing to deny. Except one... I can't hurt other people.
"But…" she continued softly, "yesterday… when you tried to talk again… your face…"
She looked at me, her eyes trembling.
"You looked… like you'd given up."
I was silent.
Then she added, almost breaking:
"That's when I thought… maybe you just wanted a friend."
---
And I…
Laughed.
A small laugh—not bitter, not mocking.
A laugh like wind finally finding a crack in a long-closed window.
She looked confused.
"Why are you laughing?"
I smiled.
"Because… you're right."
She still stood there, frozen.
Maybe waiting for me to walk away, or get angry, or pretend to be fine.
But I just sat back down, looking up at the sky as it slowly brightened.
And for the first time…
I felt that maybe… I would be okay.
Even if no one came to save me anymore.
Even if the voices never returned.
Because maybe—just maybe—
I could learn to save myself.
She sat beside me, without saying a word.
We just sat there, sharing a silence that was warm.
No need for names.
No promises.
Just two people who accidentally understood each other in a world far too loud.
Maybe I don't need to be healed.
Maybe I just needed to be heard—just once—by someone who didn't run away.