The trauma didn't arrive suddenly.
It settled in.
Like cold that seeps into bones long after winter ends.
He was no longer running when the chapter began.
No mountains.
No endless falls.
Just a wide, empty space—white, quiet, merciless.
He stood there, shaking.
Not from fear.
From confusion.
The Question Finally Spoken
His voice cracked when he spoke, as if it hadn't been used in years.
"Why… why am I trapped here?"
Silence.
He swallowed.
"Why me?"
His breathing grew uneven.
"I never met you. I never touched you. I never even knew you existed."
His hands clenched.
"Did I do something wrong?"
The words poured out faster now, desperate.
"Did I hurt you somehow? Did I commit a sin without knowing it?"
His voice broke completely.
"Why am I being punished?"
Her Answer
Laughter echoed.
Soft.
Light.
Almost kind.
She appeared in front of him.
Not threatening.
Not monstrous.
Smiling.
As if this were a casual conversation.
She tilted her head.
"Wrong?"
She laughed again.
"No… no, you misunderstand."
She stepped closer.
"I don't punish."
Her voice lowered.
"I adjust."
His stomach twisted.
"What does that even mean?"
She smiled wider.
"You wouldn't understand," she said gently.
"You don't even remember."
His eyes widened.
"Remember what?"
She leaned in, her voice brushing against his thoughts.
"You don't know how many times you've hurt me."
His breath caught.
"That's impossible," he whispered.
"I've never—"
She interrupted softly:
"Not consciously."
Breaking Point
His knees hit the ground.
Hands pressed to his head.
"This isn't fair," he said.
"This can't be real."
He laughed once—sharp and broken.
"If this is a dream, then wake me up."
Silence.
Then her footsteps.
Closer.
The Hug
He felt it before he understood it.
Arms around him.
Warm.
Human.
For a moment—just one—
his body relaxed.
Maybe…
Maybe this wasn't an enemy.
Maybe this was comfort.
He clung to her.
"I'm tired," he whispered.
"I just want it to stop."
She rested her chin near his shoulder.
"I know," she said kindly.
"That's why this will help."
The End That Feels Familiar
There was a sudden pressure.
Sharp awareness.
A sensation he had learned to recognize without needing to see it.
His body stiffened.
His breath vanished.
Not pain—
Realization.
So even kindness is a path…
Darkness folded in.
Reset
Eyes open.
Standing again.
Same white space.
Same awareness.
But something had changed.
His hands were trembling harder now.
He whispered to himself:
"Even trusting you kills me."
Her voice answered immediately.
"That's because trust is the deepest mistake."
Outside — Day Seven
Machines beeped steadily.
No change.
No movement.
His mother hadn't left the room in hours.
She whispered his name over and over, as if repetition could reach him.
Inside — The Truth Begins to Form
He finally understood something worse than death.
This wasn't about escape.
This wasn't about punishment.
This was about ownership.
And he was already too deep to deny it.