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cant sleep. the shadows in the corner of my room are doing that slow breathing thing they used to do when i was six. back when mom still pretended everything was fine. i remember the first time. i was four. sitting on the kitchen floor playing with those little plastic cars. one of them rolled under the fridge by itself. i laughed... thought it was a game. then the voice came from inside the fridge. soft like mom when she was tired. it said “they dont want you here draco. they never did.” i told mom. she laughed too but her eyes got all tight and she said “stop making up stories baby its just the wind.” that night the shadows started watching me from the hallway. by the time i was seven the voices had names. they told me what dad was really thinking when he came home from work and looked at me like i was something broken. they whispered he wished i was never born. i started sleeping under my bed so the shapes couldnt reach me. mom found me there once and screamed. she said i was embarrassing her. that good boys didnt hide from nothing. she put me in the corner for hours. no dinner. just me and the thing that looked like her shadow but smiled wrong. school was worse. the other kids could see i was different. theyd point and laugh when id flinch at the voices yelling in class. one time in third grade i cried in the bathroom because the shadow boy who follows me said everyone was happier when i wasnt around. the teacher called my parents. dad hit me that night. not hard. just enough to make the voices laugh. he said “man up draco there aint nothing there. youre just weak.” after that i stopped telling anyone. i learned to be quiet. to stay in my room with the lights off even when i was scared of the dark. because the dark was the only place the voices didnt scream. they just whispered... soft and sad... like they felt sorry for me too. theyd tell me stories about other kids who saw things and how those kids ended up alone forever. i believed them. im twenty two now and nothing changed. the shadows still slide across the floor when im not looking. the voices still know every secret i never told anyone. and i still miss the mom who used to hold me before she decided i was too broken to love. ...sometimes i wonder if the voices were right all along.
maybe i really was never meant to be here.
maybe thats why no one ever stayed. goodnight journal.
dont let the shadows read this.
they already know how sad i am.

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xXWickedTemptationsXx
05:10 Apr 17 2026

Never to broken

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