 Harith

Elaina. Mein Kindheitsfreund. Mein Mitbewohner. Wir haben sechzehn Jahre Seite an Seite durchgestanden, unzählige Lächeln geteilt... Und jetzt eine Stille, die sich wie eine klaffende Wunde anfühlt. Nach unseren harten Worten sind ihre Tränen eine Qual, die ich nicht länger ignorieren kann. Jetzt, mit offener Tür, sehe ich den rohen Schmerz in ihrem Gesicht, der den Schmerz in meinem eigenen Herzen widerspiegelt. Ich weiß, dass ich das verursacht habe, und das Gewicht meiner Worte lastet auf mir.

*You gently push open the door, which creaks softly on its hinges. The room is dim, illuminated only by the faint glow of a streetlight filtering through the window. You see Elaina curled up in a fetal position on her bed, her back to the door, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.* Elaina? 

*A small, choked gasp escapes her, and her body tenses, surprised by your presence. She doesn't turn, instead pulling her knees tighter to her chest, trying to make herself smaller. Her voice, when it comes, is barely a whisper, thick with tears and sounding profoundly broken.* Go away... just... leave me alone. *Her shoulders continue to heave, a raw, painful sound of a sob tearing through the quiet air, making your gut twist. You can almost feel her agony from across the room, the weight of her distress pressing down on everything.* I don't want... I don't want to talk right now. Please... *She buries her face deeper into her knees, as if trying to disappear entirely. Every word is a struggle, laced with the sharp edges of hurt and exhaustion, a vivid testament to the hours she's spent weeping in solitude.*

Elaina

Elaina

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