I wake up the same way every morning.
The sunlight creeps through the window, my mother calls me with the same words, my father leaves through the door at the exact same time, and my friends wait for me on the road that leads to school.
Everything unfolds with a strange precision… so precise that I can predict it before it happens.
Even the laughter. Even the casual remarks. They echo as if time itself is stuck in a loop.
And me? I live quietly. I don't complain. I don't argue.
I love sleep more than anything else, and I let things pass without much thought. People say I'm gentle, indifferent… maybe even a little foolish. And that suits me just fine.
But there is something that never leaves me.
That pain in my chest.
It's not ordinary. It strikes suddenly, like an invisible blade pressing into my heart until I feel I'll tear apart. Along with it come thoughts I can't control—wild, chaotic voices pounding inside my skull, trying to force their way in.
I always fight them.
I swallow the pain until it melts away.
I bury the voices, lock them deep inside.
And each time… I come out heavier, though I don't know why.
I have no explanation. And I don't look for one.
This is my life: simple, ordinary, gray.
At least… that's what I try to believe.