The alarm shrieked, splitting the silence of Finley’s room. He groaned, turning onto his side, wishing it would simply stop, wishing the day would vanish entirely.

  He stared at the cracked ceiling above, tracing the spiderweb lines with tired eyes. Light filtered through the thin curtains, gray and unwelcoming, spilling across the cluttered floor.

  Finally, with a groan, he sat up. The cold floor met his bare feet, shocking him awake. He shuffled to the small bathroom, splashing his face with water that smelled faintly of rust and mildew.

  The mirror reflected a pale, narrow-faced boy with messy charcoal-black hair and dull navy eyes. His reflection didn’t move when he wanted it to. It was just a passive observer of his life.

  Breakfast was no comfort. A bowl of cereal, tasteless and cold, waiting silently on the small table. Finley ate mechanically, staring out the window as his parents left for work without a word, leaving him alone with the silence of their absence. Silence was a friend and a prison; it offered no warmth, only the reminder that he existed but didn’t matter.

  Once dressed, backpack slung over his shoulder, he left the apartment, stepping into the crowded streets of the city. The morning air was damp and heavy, but that didn’t matter. No one noticed him, or at least, no one in the crowd of students and commuters stopped to care. Everyone had somewhere to be, someone to talk to, and Finley… had nothing.

  –

  Finley has finally arrived at school, and this is where his suffering is always happening..

  As he rounded the corner into the hallway, a shadow fell over him, and a heavy shove sent him crashing into the lockers. Hiro and his friends appeared, smirking like predators who had found easy prey.

  “Watch it, loser!” Hiro shouted, his voice echoing in the crowded hallway.

  Finley scrambled to his feet, gathering the books that had spilled across the floor. His hands shook violently, but Hiro grabbed his collar, pressing him against the cold metal of the lockers.

  “Clumsy as ever, huh?” Hiro sneered. “You really walk through life like this?”

  Another boy, Yuto, nudged him with his elbow.

  “I swear, he trips over air, man. You’d think the world was against him.”

  It was true. Every day, the world was against him. Every glance from classmates was a silent judgment. Every teacher’s indifferent eyes whispered: You’re nothing. We don’t care.

  “Does your mom even notice?” Hiro asked, leaning closer. “Or is she too busy wishing you’d just disappear?”

  Finley’s face burned. He wanted to speak, to defend himself—but no words came. He collected his scattered books, avoiding eye contact, as Hiro and his friends laughed.

  The bell rang. Finley was late, embarrassed, and his body ached from the shoves.

  Classrooms offered no sanctuary. A note appeared on his desk, scrawled with sharp handwriting:

  Nobody would miss you if you disappeared. Pathetic. Weak.

  Throughout the day, he moved like a ghost. Whispers followed him, eyes glanced his way, sometimes with curiosity, sometimes with disgust. No one intervened. Even teachers acted as though he were invisible. When called on, they skipped him entirely, leaving him to stew in silence, the words of the bullies echoing in his mind.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  At lunchtime, he found himself alone, tray in hand. Hiro and his friends had chosen the spot near the main tables. Before Finley could even sit, his tray was knocked from his hands. Rice and soup splashed across the tiles.

  “Don’t bother cleaning it up, freak,” Hiro said, smirking. “That’s the only way you’ll ever get anything right.”

  Nearby students laughed, whispered, and glanced at each other, careful to avoid catching the teacher’s eye. The world was aligned against him. He was nothing but entertainment for others’ amusement.

  And the only thing Finley can do is ask himself why this was always happening to him.

  –

  Even in their apartment, there was nothing, and it seemed that the only matter to his parents was money and work.

  Dinner was quiet, mechanical. His parents were tired, distracted, and rarely looked at him. The bruises on his arms, the stains on his uniform, the ache in his chest—none of it mattered to them.

  His only comfort zone is his small bedroom.

  Finley sat on the bed, pulling a book from the shelf. RPG novels, fantasy worlds where strength, courage, and respect were earned.

  For a few hours, he could pretend he was someone else entirely—someone who mattered. Someone strong. Someone feared.

  But the moment he closed the book, reality returned. Tomorrow, the bullies will wait. The teachers would watch silently. And the apartment would be cold and empty.

  The world offered no allies. The entire world seemed aligned against him.

  –

  As Finley walked home, he didn't know that this day was his last day of suffering in this world, and that it would change his life.

  The sky was gray that afternoon, the kind of heavy, oppressive gray that seemed to press down on the city itself. Finley’s steps dragged along the sidewalk, backpack slung low, uniform stained. His muscles ached. His hands trembled. His stomach twisted from hunger, exhaustion, and anxiety. But worse than anything else, his heart ached from the constant, invisible weight of the world pushing him down.

  He didn’t even notice the group until they were already surrounding him. Hiro and his gang. Ten boys this time, each with the same cruel grin, the same glint of sadistic joy in their eyes.

  “Well, well,” Hiro said, stepping in front of him. “Look who made it through the week without crying. Impressive… almost.”

  “Almost?” one of the others laughed. “I think he’s due for a lesson.”

  Finley swallowed hard, taking a step back. His backpack slipped from his shoulders, clattering to the ground. Books spilled, notes fluttering like dead leaves across the sidewalk. His palms were sweaty, his chest tightening. Every instinct screamed at him to run. But there was no escape this time. They had him cornered near the alley by the old brick wall—a place they had chosen deliberately. No witnesses. No escape. Just the city itself as a mute spectator.

  “You know,” Hiro said, crouching slightly to meet Finley’s eyes, “you should really thank us. We’re helping you become stronger. One day, maybe you’ll stop being such a pathetic loser. But today… not so much.”

  Before Finley could react, a shove sent him crashing into the wall. Pain shot through his shoulder, but it was nothing compared to the humiliation. Hiro kicked his backpack aside. The others laughed, circling him like predators closing in.

  “You’re worthless,” Hiro said, voice low and cruel. “Even your parents must regret having you. Don’t bother trying to fight back—you’ll only make it worse.”

  “Why do you always treat me like this?” Finley said as if begging them to stop.

  “Dont talk back to me you understand!” Hiro shouted.

  One of the boys grabbed his arm and twisted it painfully behind his back. Another shoved him down to the wet, grimy sidewalk. Finley’s knees scraped against the rough concrete, but he barely felt the sting; his chest constricted too tightly with fear. Tears threatened to spill, but he swallowed them down. He had learned long ago that crying only invited more cruelty.

  “Why don’t you just die already?” one of the boys sneered. “The world would be better without you.”

  The words pierced deeper than any punch. And yet, no one intervened. The city seemed indifferent. The sky remained gray. The passersby avoided looking at him. Even the air felt heavy with the silence of everyone who had decided he was nothing.

  “why..whh..yy..why..” These are only words running through Finley's mind.

  The bullying escalated. Hiro’s gang had brought water bottles and a small, rusty metal pipe. They doused him with cold water, the shock making him gasp and shiver. They kicked at his knees, elbows, and ribs, each strike calculated to hurt but not so much as to leave permanent marks. They wanted humiliation. They wanted fear. They wanted him broken.

  Finley curled into himself, head bowed, breathing shallow. Pain lanced through his body. Every bruise, every scrape, every insult—the culmination of years of daily torment—pressed down on him like a mountain. His vision blurred. He tried to speak, to plead, but his throat refused to form words. He was powerless, utterly powerless.

  “Why is ..this happening to.. me.., what I've done to deserve.. this kind of thing…” This is the only Finley could say this to himself.

  Then came the moment that broke him completely. One of the boys picked up the metal pipe and swung it carelessly—not at his head, but at his side. Pain exploded along his ribs. He gasped, the air leaving his lungs in a sharp, painful wheeze. Another blow hit his leg, making him stumble forward. His head struck the edge of the brick wall. Blood began to trickle from a split lip, mixing with tears he couldn’t stop.

  Finley collapsed fully to the ground, his body failing him, heart pounding in terror and pain. His vision dimmed, the gray sky spinning above him. The sounds of laughter faded, replaced by a strange, hollow silence. He wanted to scream. He wanted someone, anyone, to save him. But the voice inside his head was weak, fading, whispering only: Maybe it’s true. Maybe the world would be better off without me.

  As his consciousness slipped, he saw the city around him blur and twist. The laughter, the gray sky, the cold concrete—all melted into darkness. There was nothing, and yet… something.

  A strange warmth, distant and ethereal, brushed against his mind. It was unlike anything he had felt before. Neither pain nor fear. Something else. Something… waiting.

  Finley gasped one last time. The world as he knew it—the school, the bullies, the city, his life—was gone. And with that final heartbeat, he ceased to exist in the body that had carried him through a lifetime of suffering.

  Darkness surrounded him. Then light, golden and blinding, spread like molten liquid through his senses.

  A voice whispered..

  “You… are no longer who you were. Step forward, and claim what awaits.”

  He tried to respond, but no sound came.

  Then suddenly his body felt…

  And then, abruptly, he woke.