The room was quiet.
Only a small desk lamp was still on.
Its light spread softly across the desk, covering open books and handwritten notes.
I closed the last book and leaned back in my chair.
Another day was over.
Studying never felt difficult to me.
It never had.
Concepts that confused others felt simple.
Patterns appeared naturally in my mind.
Some people called it talent.
Others called it a high IQ.
I did not care what they called it.
Results were what mattered.
Outside the window, the city was still awake.
Tall buildings stood under bright lights.
Cars moved below in neat, steady lines.
Everything followed rules.
Traffic lights.
Roads.
Schedules.
Order.
Logic.
I liked that.
The world made sense this way.
I stood up and stretched my arms.
My body felt light, relaxed.
There was no stress in my life.
No financial worries.
No real pressure.
If I wanted something, I could get it.
If I wanted to learn something, I could master it.
People often mistook that for happiness.
I did not correct them.
I walked to my bed and sat down.
My phone was still in my hand.
A sci-fi novel was open on the screen.
Advanced technology.
Artificial intelligence.
Future cities built on logic and reason.
Worlds where everything had explanations.
Worlds that felt comfortable.
I read a few more lines, then stopped.
The story was interesting, but familiar.
I already knew how it would end.
I closed the app and placed the phone beside me.
The room returned to silence.
I lay down on the bed and looked at the ceiling.
White.
Clean.
Perfectly plain.
My thoughts slowed down.
I did not think about tomorrow.
I did not think about people.
I did not think about the future.
There was no need to.
Sleep came naturally.
There was no pain.
No fear.
No warning.
Just darkness.
I believed it was normal sleep.
I believed I would wake up the next morning,
follow the same routine,
and live another predictable day.
I was wrong.
That night was not the end of a day.
It was the end of my old life.