Chapter 1: The Day I Started Noticing Things
I don't remember the exact day everything started feeling… off. That would make it easier, like I could point to a date and say, "Yeah, that's when things went wrong." But life doesn't work like that. It's more like a slow leak you don't notice until the whole place smells weird.
I was 15. Old enough to understand things, but not old enough to do anything about them.
Our house wasn't bad. Not the kind you see in movies where people are screaming all the time or throwing plates. It was normal. Too normal, maybe. My parents did their jobs, I did mine. School, homework, dinner, repeat.
But somewhere in between all that, I started feeling like I didn't belong there.
Not in a dramatic "this isn't my real family" way. Just… out of place. Like everyone else got the script, and I was improvising badly.
It started with small things. My mom asking questions that felt more like checking, not caring.
"Where were you?""Who were you with?"
"Why didn't you pick up the phone?"
Nothing wrong with those questions. But the tone? That was different. It felt like she already didn't trust my answers.
My dad was worse in a quieter way. He didn't ask much. He just judged. One look, and you knew you messed up. Even if you didn't.
I started staying quiet more. Not because I was shy, but because it was easier. Talking felt like walking into a trap.
School became my escape. Which is funny, because most people hate school. I didn't love it, but at least there, I could be someone else. Someone normal.
That's where I met Riya.
She wasn't special in the "main character" way. She was just real. Loud, annoying sometimes, but honest. The kind of person who says things without overthinking.
One day, she asked me, "Why are you always so serious?"I laughed it off. "I'm not."
She stared at me for a second. "You are. It's like you're thinking ten things before saying one."
I didn't know what to say to that. Because she wasn't wrong.
That was the first time I realized something was actually different about me. Not in a good way.
I started noticing more things after that. How I hesitated before speaking. How I checked my phone every few minutes, not because I wanted to, but because I was scared I missed a call from home.
How I felt relieved when I stayed out a little longer than I was supposed to.
That relief scared me.
Because it meant I was starting to enjoy being away.