A Decision in the Dark
I sat on the cold ground, leaning against the damp brick wall. The air smelled like rain and something else—sadness. My hands shook as I hugged my knees close to my chest. I had nothing left. No strength, no hope, not even the energy to pretend tomorrow would be better.
The city outside was alive, full of noise, but no one noticed me sitting alone in the alley. People rushed past, too busy with their own lives. The neon lights above flickered, shining down on me like a cruel joke.
I had given everything—my trust, my love, my heart. And what did I get in return? Betrayal. Pain. Emptiness.
His voice echoed in my head, sharp and cold.
"Did you really think you were special?"
The memory cut deep. I had believed in him. I had fought for him. But he had walked away without a second thought.
I squeezed my eyes shut. The pain was unbearable. Maybe this was the end. No happy ending, no second chance—just darkness.
Then, something inside me stirred.
Not hope. Not yet. It was something rougher, sharper—anger. At him. At myself. For letting him break me. For believing I was nothing without him. For letting myself fall so low when I used to stand so tall.
No. This wasn't how my story ended.
With shaky hands, I pushed myself up from the ground. My body ached, weak from days of wandering, but I forced one foot forward, then another. I didn't know where I was going, only that I couldn't stay here, drowning in my sorrow.
I stepped out of the alley. The city lights were too bright, making me squint. Everything kept moving. Life hadn't stopped just because mine felt like it had.
Then I heard a voice.
"Celeste?"
I froze.
Turning slowly, I saw Jerry standing there. His sharp features were filled with concern. His blue eyes searched my face, seeing everything I didn't want to show.
"Where the hell have you been?" he asked, stepping closer. "I've been looking everywhere for you."
I wanted to tell him to leave me alone. That I didn't need help. But my throat burned, my words stuck behind the lump in my chest.
"You look awful," he muttered. Before I could protest, he took off his jacket and placed it over my shoulders.
"I don't need your pity," I snapped, my voice rough.
His jaw tightened. "Good. Because I'm not giving it."
I hated how warm the jacket felt. How safe. It reminded me of things I had tried to forget—what it felt like to be cared for. But I couldn't afford to feel that way again.
"I should go," I whispered, turning away.
"Go where?" His voice was steady but firm.
I had no answer. Because I had nowhere to go. No one waiting for me.
Jerry ran a hand through his messy dark hair, sighing. "You don't have to do this alone, Celeste."
I let out a dry, bitter laugh. "I've been alone for a long time, Jerry."
His expression darkened. "Because you push everyone away."
I flinched. Because he was right. I had built walls so high that no one could climb them. And the one time I let someone in, he destroyed me.
Jerry exhaled. "I don't know what happened. And I won't pretend to understand. But I do know one thing—you're stronger than this."
I shook my head. "You don't know that."
"Yes, I do," he said firmly. "Because I've seen you fight. I've seen you stand tall when others would have fallen. And I know that deep down, you're not the kind of person who lets someone else decide her worth."
His words hit something deep inside me. A part of me I had tried to forget. A girl who had dreams. Strength. Purpose.
Could I be her again?
I swallowed hard. "I don't know how to start over."
Jerry's expression softened. "Then let's figure it out together."
I wanted to believe him. But trust was fragile, and mine had been shattered too many times.
Still, I took one small step closer. Just one. It wasn't much, but it was something.
Jerry noticed. He didn't push. He just waited.
I gripped his jacket a little tighter. Maybe I wasn't ready to trust again. Maybe I wasn't ready to hope.
But I could take one step.
And then another.
Until the darkness didn't feel so heavy anymore.
And maybe—just maybe—one day, I'd find the light again.