Falling Apart

Chapter-7

The days that followed were a blur of silence and shadows. I moved through school like a ghost, just trying to get from one moment to the next without breaking. I saw Adrian in the hallways, always with that same easy smile, always surrounded by friends. Sometimes he’d catch my eye, give me a knowing look that made my stomach twist. Other times, he’d slip into my life when I wasn’t expecting it—sitting next to me in the cafeteria or finding me in the library during lunch.

It wasn’t like before. His presence felt different now—heavier, like he was always watching me, waiting for something. Every time he sat with me, there was a tension I couldn’t quite place. He asked more questions, more often. Where had I been? Who had I been with? Why hadn’t I texted him back sooner?

At first, I brushed it off. He was just worried, I told myself. He cared. He was the only person who cared. But the more it happened, the more I realized it wasn’t just worry. It was something else.

One day, after school, I was heading toward my locker when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I pulled it out, already knowing who it was.

Where are you?

I glanced around, half-expecting to see him standing somewhere nearby, watching me. But the hallway was empty. I hesitated before responding.

At my locker. What’s up?

A few seconds later, my phone buzzed again.

I didn’t see you at lunch today. Where were you?

I stared at the message, my stomach twisting into knots. I hadn’t been avoiding him, not really. I just hadn’t felt like sitting with anyone, hadn’t felt like talking. I needed the quiet. But explaining that felt… wrong.

I was in the library. Needed to finish some homework.

I hit send, my fingers trembling slightly as I shoved my phone back into my pocket. The feeling of guilt lingered in my chest. Why did I feel like I was hiding something? Why did it feel like I had to justify where I had been?

I shut my locker and turned to head out of the school, but as I rounded the corner, I almost collided with Adrian.

“Whoa, hey,” he said, smiling as he reached out to steady me. “Where are you rushing off to?”

I swallowed hard, my heart racing. “Just heading home,” I muttered, stepping back slightly to put some space between us.

“Why didn’t you come find me at lunch?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes searching mine.

“I—I just had some stuff to do. In the library.”

Adrian’s gaze softened, but there was something behind his smile, something I couldn’t quite read. “You could’ve told me,” he said, his voice light, but I could feel the pressure in his words.

I forced a small smile. “Sorry. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

His smile widened, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Next time, just let me know. I was worried about you.”

I nodded quickly, feeling the familiar knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. “Yeah. Okay.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke, and the silence between us felt thick, almost suffocating. I could feel his eyes on me, watching, waiting, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong—something deeper than I wanted to admit.

“I’ll text you later,” Adrian said after a moment, stepping back and letting me pass. His smile returned, that same easy charm back in place. “You know I’m always here for you.”

I nodded again, offering a weak smile before quickly making my way down the hallway, desperate to escape the tension that had settled between us.

As I stepped outside into the cool afternoon air, I let out a shaky breath. My phone buzzed again in my pocket, but this time, I didn’t check it.

---

The next few weeks felt like a balancing act—constantly walking a tightrope between pretending everything was fine and trying to manage the growing anxiety that came with Adrian’s constant presence. His texts were relentless, his questions never-ending. Every time my phone buzzed, a small jolt of panic shot through me, wondering what he would ask this time, what explanation I would have to give.

It wasn’t just about where I was anymore. It was about who I was with, why I hadn’t told him my plans. The casual concern he’d once shown had shifted into something sharper, something that felt more like control than care.

But every time I thought about pulling away, I couldn’t. He was the only person who noticed me. The only person who seemed to care.

And I wasn’t ready to give that up.

----

The days blurred together, each one feeling heavier than the last. At school, Adrian was always there—watching, texting, asking. It was constant, like I couldn’t take a breath without him needing to know where I was, what I was doing, and who I was with. His questions came faster, his need for answers more pressing, and yet, no one else seemed to notice.

Not my friends, not my brothers. No one.

At home, Dad’s presence loomed over everything like a dark cloud. Even when he wasn’t in the same room, I could feel him—the weight of his expectations, his control, his anger. It was always there, just beneath the surface, waiting to erupt at the slightest mistake.

Some nights were worse than others. There were nights when I could hear him moving through the house, his footsteps heavy and deliberate, and I would hold my breath, praying he wouldn’t come to my room. But he always did. The door would creak open, and the darkness would swallow me whole. His touch—too familiar, too invasive—would steal whatever fragile sense of peace I had managed to gather during the day.

Those nights, I couldn’t tell anyone. Not my brothers, not my friends, and certainly not Adrian. He texted me constantly, sometimes late at night, and I would sit there, staring at my phone, trying to answer his messages with shaky fingers while Dad sat in the corner of my room, watching.

I had become an expert at hiding things. Hiding the bruises, the cuts, the terror that wrapped itself around me like a second skin. I smiled when I needed to. I laughed when it was expected. But inside, I was crumbling, piece by piece, and no one could see it.