The veil of silence

The world isn't what we see with our own eyes...

We only see the shadows we've convinced ourselves are real.

Out here, where the mist coils through the dark forests, every step can lead you to something mysterious... something dangerous.

And once you discover what's breathing behind those shadows...

You'll never be able to close your eyes in peace again.

My name is Theodore.

Theodore Carminos.

A boy who grew up among the fog and the black woods of Duskfield...

Until the day he realized he was part of the very nightmare he'd spent his whole life trying to escape.

✦ ─────────── ✦

"Theodore Carminos!"

Mr. Felton's voice cracked through the principal's office, firm and edged with warning.

I sat silently in my chair, trying to steady my breathing.

My eyes remained fixed on the wall across from me.

My name echoed over and over inside my head.

Even when people called it, it never felt like anyone was truly seeing me.

School was always a storm of noise, filled with classmates who never seemed to miss a chance to make someone else's day worse.

Their stares.

Their words.

Even their silence.

Every bit of it settled across my shoulders like extra weight.

It always felt like no one could understand what was happening inside my head.

Loneliness had followed me for as long as I could remember.

It had always been a part of me—the kind that never leaves, even when you're surrounded by people.

And I...

Theodore Carminos...

was always one step behind,

a silent observer in a world far louder than I ever wanted it to be,

searching for something...

though I still didn't know what.

| Two Hours Earlier |

The alarm clock on my nightstand shattered the silence with its sharp, grating buzz.

I opened my eyes.

For a few seconds, I had no idea who I was—or where I was.

Then it came back to me.

My bed.

My room.

And the beginning of another long day.

I reached over and silenced the relentless alarm.

The room was still wrapped in darkness, with only a pale ribbon of morning light slipping through the window.

I sat on the edge of my bed for a moment and took a deep breath, already feeling the weight of the day settle onto my shoulders.

It was always like this.

A strange mixture of exhaustion, loneliness, and a quiet, persistent anxiety that greeted me the instant I opened my eyes—as if the entire world were waiting for me to make the first move.

Time to do it all again.

I had to face it all again—school, my classmates, and those familiar looks, heavy with judgment.

I rolled myself off the bed in one quick motion, as always still half-asleep and weighed down by exhaustion.

I stood beside the bed for a moment, trying to shake the last traces of sleep from my eyes.

It felt as though every corner of the room carried its own fractured silence.

My gaze drifted to my clothes.

I was still wearing what I'd had on yesterday. Apparently, I'd been so exhausted last night that I'd collapsed onto the bed without even bothering to change.

And, well...

I wasn't exactly planning to break that successful streak now.

I took a deep breath and finally forced myself to move.

As usual, I started gathering my things—

maybe a little faster than normal.

My books, notebooks, earbuds, digital Walkman, backpack, and the everyday things I carried with me all waited on the desk. I packed them one by one.

Each of them felt like a small piece of my own world—things only I understood, things no one else ever seemed to notice.

I pulled my hoodie over my shirt, tied my shoes, then paused for a moment.

My hand rested on my backpack strap as I drew a deep breath.

Then I stepped out of my room.

I picked up my pace and took the stairs down two at a time.

A moment later, I reached the kitchen.

I tossed my backpack onto an empty chair and slid into my usual seat at the breakfast table.

I had barely settled in when his voice cut through the silence, calm, sharp, and laced with sarcasm.

"I heard you got yourself into trouble at school again."

I glanced at my father's ever-displeased face.

It never changed.

Like every morning, he had started the day with coffee and the news—

each one more bitter than the other.

Keeping my eyes on the plate of pancakes, I muttered,

"Morning to you too, Dad."

Without even turning his head, I could feel the weight of his gaze behind the black frames of his glasses.

I lowered my eyes to the pancakes.

I took a bite and swallowed without looking at him. They tasted the same as always—just something to get down so I wouldn't stay hungry.

"Felton called me again."

The words landed in my stomach like a stone.

I chewed the next bite a little harder, forcing myself to stay silent.

He folded the newspaper and dropped it onto the table.

I looked up at him hesitantly.

Unlike every other time, there was no anger in his eyes.

Only a strange weariness.

A quiet kind of exhaustion.

As if... somehow, my father had finally given up on me too.

He let out a sigh, removed his glasses, and set them on top of the newspaper.

Then he rubbed a hand over his face.

"Theo... I need you to be honest with me."

I forced the bite down my throat.

It wasn't filling my stomach anymore.

It felt like swallowing broken glass.

"An entire year, Theo. For a whole year, you've been getting worse instead of better. You pick fights, you get into trouble, you come home with disciplinary reports, and every single day I have to patch up my son with blood running down his face... hoping that maybe one of those punches you're always taking will finally knock some sense into you. But nothing changes."

I stared at some meaningless spot on the table, absentmindedly pushing my food around my plate.

"So what am I supposed to do? Enroll you in a martial arts school?"

A smirk escaped me before I could stop it.

I got to my feet and slung my backpack over my shoulder.

"Sit down," he said firmly. "I'm not finished talking to you."

I shot back, irritation creeping into my voice.

"The day you stop blaming me for everything and actually try—for once, just once—to understand me instead of judging me... that's the day I'll start listening."

His voice softened, though the seriousness never left it.

"And how am I supposed to understand what you're going through if you won't talk to me?"

I adjusted my backpack and paused.

"You expect me to tell you what's wrong when you don't even want to hear it?"

Maybe I imagined it.

But for just a moment, something changed in his eyes.

They softened.

"Theo... why would you think that?"

I looked away.

"Isn't it true?"

His answer came almost immediately, edged with frustration.

"Of course it isn't! You're my son. My own blood. Your problems are my problems. How could you ever think I don't care about you?"

I squeezed my eyes shut.

My fingers tightened around the strap of my backpack.

"Mom's death..."

The words caught in my throat like claws.

My voice came out as little more than a whisper.

"Who do you blame for Mom's death, Dad?"

Silence rose between us like an invisible wall.

After a pause that felt as though it stretched on forever, my father's quiet voice finally broke through it.

"It wasn't your fault, Theo."

I didn't answer.

I didn't believe him.

Ever since that day, my father had always tried to convince me I wasn't to blame.

But his actions...

They never seemed to say the same thing.

Or maybe I was the one who could never stop blaming myself.

Maybe I really wasn't responsible.

Could a sixteen-year-old boy—

a boy who hugged his mother every morning before she left—

really be the reason she died?

Was that even possible?

Before I could even process what was happening, my father's hands were on my shoulders.

A second later, I found myself wrapped in the embrace of the man who had once been my hero—

the only reason I'd ever wished so desperately to grow up.

But sometimes...

I wish some wishes had never come true.

He gently rubbed my back.

In a voice softer than I'd ever expected from Victor Carminos, he said,

"You are not to blame for any of this, Theo. Stop punishing yourself, son."

I rested my forehead against his shoulder.

"If I hadn't insisted that day..."

He finished the sentence before I could.

"It still would've happened."

A sharp ache pierced my chest.

The same knife that had been buried there for the past year—

never leaving,

only twisting the wound whenever it chose.

He slowly pulled away and looked at me.

"You can't fight fate, son. Whether you were there or not... it wouldn't have changed anything."

I looked up at him through red, burning eyes.

But he meant every word.

More than ever before.

"Stop tormenting your mother's spirit and start living again. I don't want to lose you too."

I don't want to lose you too.

I don't know how many times those words echoed through my mind.

Mom always used to say that life is a road with no end to the stones you'll find along the way...

Some of them, you move out of your way.

Some, you place beneath your feet and climb, turning them into steps.

And some, you keep with you—so you'll never forget where you found the strength to become stronger.

But never let those stones choose your path for you.

Mom was always right.

But The problem was...

I had never imagined that the stone lying in the middle of my own path...

would be her death.

A death that, in my mind, would forever be inseparable from my own guilt.

| Present |

"Theodore?"

I slowly lifted my eyes to Mr. Felton.

"Is what your classmates are saying true? Were you the one who started the fight?"

My hand curled into a fist against my thigh.

A smirk found its way onto my face before I could stop it.

"Yeah."

The sound of my own voice surprised me more than anyone else.

Mr. Felton narrowed his eyes.

"Then how do you explain being the one who got beaten up the worst?"

I didn't answer.

Professor Aldrich shook his head in disappointment and scribbled something into my file.

"I honestly never expected something so irrational from Victor Carminos's son."

I let out a sharp breath.

There was no way I was letting that slide.

"Maybe it seems irrational to you," I said, "but I did exactly what I intended to do."

I held his gaze without flinching.

"And just so we're clear... I'm still not sorry."

My eyes shifted from Felton to Professor Aldrich.

"And while we're at it, maybe it's time you stopped blaming my father for everything."

Tilting my head, I held his gaze with deliberate coldness.

"Every mistake I make doesn't have to be written under Victor Carminos's name just because you think our family name is supposed to mean something."

A crooked smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"Because if you want to keep going down that road... I might have to remind you that your own son isn't exactly a saint."

Aldrich's expression darkened.

The vein at his temple throbbed, and the color drained from his face until it looked almost bruised.

It was as if his anger was clawing its way to the surface.

But I wasn't finished.

My smile only widened.

"And if we're being completely fair..."

I shrugged.

"I've still got a long way to go before I catch up to him."

His jaw locked so tightly I could almost hear his teeth grinding together.

Honestly...

That only made it more satisfying.

Without looking away from his flushed face, I delivered the final blow.

"At least I sometimes try to stay out of trouble. But your son?"

A quiet laugh slipped from my lips.

"It's like he signed a lifelong contract with it."

I tilted my head, wearing an expression of almost innocent curiosity.

"I'd even say he's a lot better than I am at turning everyone else's world upside down."

The crease between Aldrich's brows deepened, casting an even darker shadow across his face.

"You insolent brat!" he snapped. "How dare you speak to me like that? Do you have any idea what'll happen if I expel you?"

Felton's voice cut in, calm enough to douse the flames licking at Aldrich's temper.

"Calm down, Magnus. This isn't the way a man your age should behave."

Aldrich shot him a furious glare.

"Behave? He deserves to be expelled."

Felton let out a weary sigh and raised a hand.

"Let me talk to Theodore. I'm sure there's a reason behind all of this."

The look Aldrich gave me made it seem like he'd gladly reopen every wound on my body himself.

"Mark my words, Felton," he growled. "One day, the way you keep taking this boy's side is going to come back to haunt you."

With that, he snatched his phone off the desk.

He threw one last glare in my direction before storming out of the office.

After a brief silence—

The door slammed shut.

A moment later, Felton's voice broke the silence.

"I hope you don't take his words to heart. He's always had a short fuse."

I said nothing.

I just fidgeted with my fingers.

"Well..."

He stood up and leaned against the front of his desk, facing me.

"Now that it's just the two of us..."

"I think it's time you told me the truth, Theo. Otherwise, even I won't be able to stop them from expelling you."

There was something I genuinely couldn't understand.

"Why are you doing this?"

A puzzled look crossed Felton's face.

I hesitated before meeting his eyes.

"You keep defending me."

"You stop them from expelling me."

"Every single time, you find some excuse to clear my name."

I fell silent for a moment.

Then I asked quietly,

"Why?"

He slipped his hands into his pockets.

"I know losing your mother left a wound on your soul, Theodore... far deeper than most people could ever imagine."

I swallowed hard.

Unlike everyone else's, his gaze held no trace of pity.

"I know how unbearable something like that can be for a teenager your age," he continued. "But that doesn't mean you can keep living your life like this."

My head remained lowered.

My eyes drifted somewhere between the shadows stretching across the floor—somewhere far away from his voice, far away from the words that always sounded like advice.

It felt as though every sentence pushed me deeper into my own darkness.

Without realizing it, my fingers had locked together, and silence wrapped itself around me.

The same silence that had understood me better than anyone ever had.

For several long moments, I simply stared at the floor.

Motionless.

Speechless.

Like someone so deeply lost in his own thoughts that the rest of the world could only reach him through a thick wall.

"Even if this is the path you've chosen for yourself," Felton said quietly, "I won't stand by and watch you throw your future away."

Wearily, I looked away.

As always, I fixed my eyes on some meaningless spot in the room—anything to keep my thoughts flowing without having to look at another person.

"All I'm asking is for you to be honest with me."

My lips felt as though they'd been sewn shut.

I forced them apart.

"If I told you I needed to get beaten up... would you believe me?"

A long, thoughtful hum escaped Felton.

"Ordinarily? No."

He paused.

"But if that's truly what you're telling me... then I'll do my best to understand it."

With that, he stepped away from the desk.

Instead of staying where he was, he walked over to the window.

I kept staring ahead.

My father's voice echoed through my mind once again...

<I don't want to lose you too.>

"I didn't want to disappoint him..."

Felton turned slightly toward me without saying a word.

"My dad said he didn't want to lose me too..."

My voice faltered.

"But right after that..."

My eyes remained fixed on a point far beyond the office walls—

far beyond this world.

I was tired.

Not of school.

Not of people.

Not even of the problems.

I was tired of breathing.

Of waking up every morning and realizing I had to survive another day.

It felt as though something inside me was slowly burning out...

and all I could do was sit there and watch it happen.

"...All I wanted..."

I barely recognized my own voice.

"...was a peaceful death."

The words slipped from my lips.

And for the first time...

admitting them wasn't what frightened me.

What terrified me...

was how natural they sounded.

How easy they were to say.

How tempting they had become.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"The thought that it could ease even a small part of everything I was carrying..."

I fell silent.

A heavy silence.

Deep enough to swallow every sound.

"...was starting to take over."

Slowly, I turned back toward Felton.

He wasn't angry.

He wasn't even sad.

His expression was the same as always—calm, composed, trying to balance reason with compassion.

"It was the only thing I could do."

A bitter smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"I kept hoping one of those punches would finally knock some sense into me."

A faint smile appeared on Felton's lips.

He pointed a finger at me.

"I knew there had to be a reason."

I stared at him in disbelief.

With surprising calm, he clapped his hands together once, walked back to his desk, wrote something on the papers in front of him, and closed the file.

Once again...

just like every other time...

I was cleared.

Only this time, there was one difference.

Felton knew the truth about me.

The truth I'd been hiding for far too long.

✦ ─────────── ✦

I stepped out of the principal's office and made my way down the stairs.

Then I headed for my locker.

James was standing in the hallway with his usual group.

The moment he spotted me, he pushed himself off the wall.

I looked away and kept walking as if he wasn't even there.

"Felton ought to reserve him a seat in his office," James called after me. "He's practically a regular."

His friends burst into laughter.

I didn't bother responding.

I simply walked past them.

James strode after me, irritation flashing across his face.

He'd always been like this.

He craved attention.

The moment someone ignored him, it drove him insane.

Ironically, he still believed everyone else was the fool—not him.

He grabbed the front of my hoodie and yanked me toward him.

"So now you've gotten to the point where you think you can ignore me?" he snapped. "Getting brave, are you, little mute?"

I glanced at him.

"Are you always this desperate for attention?"

The muscles between his brows tightened.

"What the hell did you just say?"

My expression didn't change.

"You bully people because pretending you're strong is easier than admitting how weak you really are."

His jaw clenched.

The veins in his neck stood out beneath his skin, but I acted as though I hadn't noticed his anger.

Or maybe I had...

And i was deliberately pressing on the exact wound I knew would hurt the most.

"You push people around because you're afraid of being the one who gets pushed around."

His eyes grew darker.

I recognized that look.

The look of someone who'd just heard the truth...

and instead of accepting it, he would rather to tear the person's throat out for saying it.

"You beat people up because you're afraid of looking weak."

I could hear him breathing through clenched teeth.

Every word that left my mouth was another spark falling onto a powder keg.

But still...

I didn't stop.

I held his gaze and delivered the final blow.

"You've been hiding behind this fake tough-guy act the whole time, just so no one realizes what a coward is hiding underneath..."

His fist slammed into my face...

And suddenly everything exploded into white.

Pain cracked through my jaw like lightning, shooting deep into my skull and tearing the ground out from beneath me.

My feet left the floor.

A heartbeat later, I slammed hard against the cold tiles.

The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth.

James loomed over me.

His heavy breathing echoed through the hallway like a wounded animal.

"I'm gonna show you who the coward is."

Cheers and laughter erupted around us.

His boot drove straight into my stomach.

I coughed, and blood spilled from my mouth.

A groan escaped me as I rolled across the floor.

Slowly, more students started noticing what was happening and gathered around us.

James didn't let up.

He kept kicking me over and over again.

I curled up, trying to at least shield my body and lessen the impact of his blows.

But It didn't help.

The crowd roared around us.

"Hit him!"

"Hit him!"

"Hit him!"

My eyes drifted across their faces.

Just a bunch of careless students, hungry for drama...

the kind who enjoyed fights and gossip far more than the reality of another human being.

My vision slowly began to blur.

I don't know after which kick I stopped feeling the pain.

I only remember staring at the circle of faces surrounding us...

until they slowly dissolved.

Time.

The hallway.

The voices.

Everything slipped away.

I sank into a deep, endless darkness.

A darkness that—

despite the way everyone else described it—

wasn't frightening at all.

It was...

warm.

Comforting.

Like an embrace wrapping itself around me,

while the laughter faded farther...

and farther away.