I hadn't showered in three days.
The room stank of old coffee, cheap deodorant, and that sour smell that comes when you cry too much and don't change your clothes.
I could hear the neighbor's baby crying again. Or maybe that was yesterday. Time's a bit blurry.
There were unread messages from clients I ghosted.
Three emails from a woman asking for a refund.
Two from my bank.
I stared at the wall like it had answers.
The laptop was on. I hadn't touched it in hours.
Somewhere in the tabs, a video was still playing.
"To fix your life, you first need to take accountability—"
I slammed it shut.
My chest was heavy. Like a stone pressing down, inch by inch, until even breathing felt like a task I didn't sign up for.
My phone buzzed. A family group text:
"Congrats Alia!!! Future doctor in the house!!"
Scrolled past Ron traveling again, Portugal this time.
scrolled past Nada's engagement party discussion.
Scrolled past Raya's wedding pictures I never liked. She probably noticed.
I don't want to go home. I sat on the floor. Legs folded. Blank eyes. Hands shaking.
I thought about disappearing.
Not dying. I wasn't… there. Yet.
But vanishing. Quietly. Like mist. Like I was never even born.
Would it matter?
My phone buzzed.
A new message.
It was from Alia. My twin like cousin the one who had always been my other half, my shadow and my mirror. People joked they were bound by something deeper than blood.
"Let people be.
Come for me and Nada. Please.
Nobody will say anything.
I'll make Mom and Aunty shut up.
Just come."
A knock on the door snapped me out of it. Just the landlord.
Rent.
I stayed silent.
The tears came without warning this time. No build-up. No sound. Just water falling.
"You're such a waste."
That night, I slept on the floor. No blanket. No light. Just the hum of a dying ceiling fan and the unbearable silence of being alive.
where did it all go wrong.