So, where should I start? Perhaps, with myself.

I was born into an ordinary family, with a rather plain appearance. My parents were not wealthy, but we had enough to get by. They often argued, and sometimes their conflicts escalated into real violence. When I was three years old, I already understood what was happening. But I stayed silent because I didn’t know how to fix it all.

"Mom, Dad, can you please stop fighting?" I would say, but they just smiled and brushed me off, not understanding me.

The only good thing I remember is someone I used to see sometimes. But for some reason, I’ve forgotten their name and face. Asking my parents about it was pointless. I know he was important to me, but who was he?

I was tired. And even though no one noticed, I could feel how their constant fights left a deep scar on my soul. I didn’t remember any moments of happiness. I didn’t know what it meant to be truly carefree.

When I was 11, they divorced. Perhaps it was for the better.

After graduating from high school, I moved to another city. It was noisy there, but I didn’t care. I was alone. Sometimes, I spoke with my father, but those meetings were rare and brief. I always felt that my relationships with both him and my mother were somehow unnatural.

My mother often told me what I should become to "provide for her." I didn’t blame her—deep down, every person is selfish—but still, something felt wrong. And I was losing myself in it.

Hoshi High School.

The bell rang. It was an ordinary morning, though it didn’t seem that way. Inside, I felt empty. The scornful gazes of my classmates didn’t interest me. I didn’t know why, but the entire routine irritated me.

Stolen story; please report.

My life felt meaningless, and anger toward others seemed inevitable. But that day, I decided to change everything. Yes, it was risky, but I can’t say I was afraid. I simply didn’t see a way out anymore. I tried to be cheerful, hoping things would improve, but eventually, you realize it’s all an illusion. Reality inevitably leads to burnout.

All that’s left is to reject this life...

But what comes next? No one could say for sure.

On Friday, deciding to skip classes, I returned to my hometown. I don’t know about them, but I always remember how we used to play and spend time together.

Oh, those memories—they’re so warm.

In the far part of the village, there was a steep cliff whose bottom was barely visible. Less than two yards from the edge stood an old tree, leaning slightly over the abyss.

In spring, its soft pink blossoms were especially captivating, and the grass around it always grew lush and pleasing to the eye.

*

Admiring the bright sun under a clear sky, I inhaled the tranquil air.

All of it created a sense of hopelessness. And so, I stood at the very place where it all had begun. I leaned against the tree, and the feeling of peace, as if the place itself was calling out to me, became my salvation.

I’m truly empty. Can I just fall asleep and never wake up again? Ever?

The words escaped my lips in a whisper.

Talking to myself until nightfall, with a sorrowful expression, I leaned against the tree under the stars and the moon’s glow. A gentle breeze caressed me, as if lulling me to sleep in a cradle.

How did it all come to this?

I can’t remember his face! Damn it! Why can’t I remember the face and name of the person I used to watch the sunrise with in this very place!?

Everything inside me tightened. I didn’t understand anything anymore. All I could do was calm down and accept reality.

After some time, the trees around me rustled as if sensing my sorrow. For a moment, I felt like I was a child again. Playing with the village kids, laughing… And in the distance, as if in a dense fog, I saw them—my mother’s tired eyes and my father’s eternal sternness.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, blending with the wind.

It was then I decided: if there’s a path forward, I’ll have to find it myself.

Even if it costs me my life.