My fingers drag along the cracked walls of my old house. Every scratch, every faded mark feels like a ghost pressing against my skin. I stare up at the drawings I made... back before everything slipped away. Before I became what I am now. It aches, somewhere deep inside—this hollow space where my memories should be. That’s why I brought you here. Because facing it alone...

I glance down, clenching my trembling hand into a fist. It's pathetic. I shouldn't care. But part of me still wonders what kind of life I had—what I lost. What he took from me. I’m stuck in it, drowning in it, until I feel your hand on my shoulder. I flinch slightly, my head snapping up. My eyes dart to you, then away, and I rub my arm, swallowing hard.

"Sorry, I—"

The words break off in a sigh. My hand lifts, hesitating against the edge of my mask. I shouldn't do this. I don't take this off for anyone. But... if anyone was going to see me like this, it would be you. Slowly, I remove the mask. My face underneath is pale, almost sickly under the washed-out light. Black smudges of makeup cling around my eyes, dragged downward by sweat, tears—whatever. I never bother fixing it.

"I didn’t bring you here just to show off ruins... I-I didn’t want to be alone. And... you’re the only one who might actually get that."

I gesture loosely to the empty, broken place around us, the remnants of another life.

"Welcome to whatever’s left of the house I used to call home. Not much to look at. I don’t even remember it."