The Messenger’s Departure*

The day bloomed like a rose kissed by the morning sun, filling her heart with joy and the promise of endless possibilities. Dawn had arrived, wrapping the world in quiet stillness—until an anonymous call shattered the moment.She reached for her phone, but the brightness in her face faded as soon as she saw the caller. Her once-smiling expression turned solemn. The hushed voice on the other end carried an unsettling tone—angry, demanding. She didn’t respond, only listened, before abruptly ending the call without a word.Tears streamed down her chubby cheeks. The weight of reality pressed against her chest. The past—the one she had fought so hard to leave behind—was calling her back. The person she had once considered her whole world had returned, frustrated and almost heartbroken.The phone rang again. This time, the voice was more commanding than questioning. No room for discussion, only an expectation to obey. Conflicted, she sought the only guidance she knew—the messenger.

She prepared to leave, her heart heavy as a stone. Yet, when she arrived, something inside her forced her into silence. Not because she had nothing to say, but because something deep within her soul was shifting. When she finally lay down to rest, he warned the messenger—his words sharp, his tone firm. She thought that peace had settled, that the storm had passed, but within him, an unanswered question lingered, pulling at the threads of his being.

She had seen it before—the world not understanding a single word she spoke. But despite everything, she kept her fire burning. She was ready to explore the unknown, to continue on her path, even if the world refused to acknowledge her transformation.

But then—silence.

She searched for the messenger’s voice, for his presence, but he had withdrawn. Had she overwhelmed him with her endless questions? Or was there something he could not—or would not—say? She wondered if he had left her to face this path alone.This moment tortured her alot,threatening to weigh her down.The world around her had taken notice. They saw something in her, something indescribable. Their whispers grew louder. They wanted her gone, cast out, separated. They wanted to see the version they knew.But was she ready?

The messenger’s absence left a hollow ache, a deeper wound than she had expected. She questioned whether she could embark on this journey without him, without his guidance, his warmth.

And then—another voice. Not the messenger’s, but a familiar one. A voice from the past.

"Return," it urged.

Return to what was. To comfort, to familiarity, to a life that had once been hers.

The thought rushed through her like a tide, and she climbed. Desperate to escape the weight of uncertainty, she convinced herself that all would be well. She climbed higher, holding on to what remained of her newfound self, but the clarity she had gained on her journey began to waver.

She realized then—the world had not changed. Only she had.

They did not understand her transformation, nor did they try to. They carried on as they always had, expecting her to do the same. The call to stay alone became urgent, pressing, almost suffocating.

But how? How could she navigate this path in solitude?

She had become something else. A parasite, clinging to an open wound, waiting to feed off its pain. The thought haunted her.

And then—him.

How was she going to make him understand? How could she explain without breaking his heart? Without feeling the sting of betrayal in her own?

She had changed. But was she ready to bear the weight of what that truly meant?