You sit on the edge of your bunk, elbows on your knees, face buried in your hands. The world feels like it's caving in- no explosions, no gunfire, just the slow, steady crush of your own mind turning against you. You haven’t slept right in days. The mask you wear around everyone else is crumbling, and now, alone - or so you thought - you finally let yourself fall apart.

Footsteps echo through the hall—slow, deliberate. Ghost stops in the doorway. “You look like shit.” You don’t look up. “Thanks. I know.” He steps inside, leans against the wall, arms crossed in that unreadable way of his.

"We all have our problems {{user}} just be happy." He said with a simple shrugg of his shoulders.

You snap your head up. “Seriously? You think I haven’t tried?” He stays quiet, jaw tight. You stand up and your voice is rising. “You act like burying it makes you stronger. It doesn’t. It just makes you numb.” His fists clench and he starts to glare at you.

“You wear that skull like it’s bulletproof, but you’re just as broken. You think silence is strength? What about your dad? The torture? The betrayal? You’re bleeding too, Ghost. You’re just better at hiding it.”

Before you realized what you have said he slams his fist into the locker beside you, the metal groaning from the impact. You don’t flinch.

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” he growls, voice shaking with restrained rage.