As I finally rolled out of bed, the morning light stabbed at my eyes like tiny needles. The air felt thick, heavy—like it didn't want to be breathed. I stepped outside, dragging my feet across the cold ground, the fog of sleep still clinging to me. My mind was clouded with the same question that had haunted me for days:
What is it that held me down?
What dragged me so far beneath the surface?
Who... am I really?
I wandered aimlessly, letting the silence of the world fill in the void inside me. My feet eventually brought me to a quiet riverside path. The water moved slowly, mirroring the sky like a silver sheet—calm, but unreadable. I found a bench and sat down, sinking into it as if the weight of my thoughts were pressing me into the wood.
The pain... it was still there.
The explosion. The moment everything changed.
It hadn't gone away. My body didn't ache, but my soul did. The echoes of that agony hadn't faded—they clung to me, screaming in silence. I stared at the sky, lost in its vastness, wishing it would swallow me whole.
Then... I heard it. A sound from behind.
At first, I ignored it. Just kids playing. Nothing to do with me.
But their laughter—it was sharp, mocking. Not the innocent kind. Something felt off.
I turned and saw them: three boys circling a smaller child. The little one had fallen to the ground, his knees scraped, tears on the verge of spilling. Clutched tightly in the hands of the others was a worn, dirty teddy bear. The small boy reached out for it—only to be pushed down again. Again. Again.
I didn't move.
I just sat there.
Not my problem. I was tired. I was broken. I was busy trying to keep myself from falling apart.
But then it happened again—the boy stood up, trembling, and was shoved back down. And again. And again. Every time he rose, he was knocked down. But he never stopped trying.
I tried to focus on my own thoughts. Think about your pain. Your loss. Your struggle. Block it all out.
But I couldn't.
Their voices kept cutting through me like glass. The boy's stubborn efforts dug into something I thought I had buried.
I stood up, intending to walk away. Just leave it all behind. Escape the noise. Escape the guilt. But I didn't move.
Something pulled at me—something deep. I turned around, unable to stop myself. I watched the small boy, beaten down, scuffed and tired... yet standing again, his fists clenched, his eyes burning with defiance.
He ran.
With everything he had left in him, he charged at the biggest bully.
I moved without thinking.
My hand caught the boy's punch midair. I stepped in front of him, placing myself between him and the others.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" I shouted, my voice thundering like a crack of lightning. "Do you think he's nothing? Just because he's smaller? Just because he's kind?! LOOK AT YOURSELVES!"
The three boys froze, their smirks melting away.
"You're laughing while tearing something away from him. Is that fun for you?! Huh?! Picking on someone who was just playing—just trying to be happy?"
The bullies stammered, their confidence shattered.
"We… we're sorry," one of them mumbled. "We didn't mean to—"
"Then give it back!" a voice roared—strong and sharp.
It was the little boy.
He stepped forward, trembling, but his voice didn't shake. "That's mine! Give it back!"
The boys panicked and dropped the teddy bear, stumbling backward before sprinting away like scared animals. The little boy dashed forward and grabbed the toy, hugging it tight.
Then he looked up at me, eyes wide, glowing with gratitude. "Thank you…"
I knelt beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"No," I said softly, my voice cracking, "I should be the one thanking you."
He blinked, confused. "Huh?"
I smiled, the corners of my mouth heavy but sincere. "Forget it. Come on, let's head over to that playground."
His face lit up, and he nodded. We walked together, the morning sun now beginning to shine brighter.
As I stood beside the swings, I felt something stir inside me—like a lock snapping open, a chain shattering.
I remembered.
Not a face. Not a place. But something even more powerful.
Willpower.
That boy had it. And once… so did I.
His unyielding determination to rise again and again, no matter how many times he was struck down—it awakened something in me. That burning feeling, that stubborn fire...
It was back.
My flame had never truly gone out. It had just dimmed, hidden beneath the ashes of pain.
But now, it burned again.
Hot.
Bright.
Alive.
I smiled up at the sky. For the first time in a long time, the clouds seemed to part just a little.
I wasn't lost anymore.
I had found myself.