Prologue
Prologue: The Things You Never Noticed
> There are things you never asked me.
And maybe that’s why I never told you.
I was the quiet one in the corner.
The one who smiled without her eyes, laughed too quickly, and said, “I’m fine,” even when I was bleeding inside.
You?
You were everything I wasn’t.
Golden. Lively.
Your name made people smile. Your presence made them feel safe.
But me? I was a room with no windows. A night with no stars.
I was something people looked at and walked past.
Even you.
I don’t blame you.
You were busy living.
You didn’t see me dying.
Every night, I folded myself into silence. I kept a list under my bed — a list of reasons why I should disappear.
Reason #3: Because no one listens.
Reason #7: Because I can’t remember the last time I felt real.
Reason #12: Because I don’t want to keep pretending.
Sometimes, I would trace lines on my wrist with a blade that knew me too well.
Not because I wanted attention — I hated attention —
But because I needed to feel something. Anything.
Because feeling nothing was worse than pain.
You always smiled at me in the hallway.
Sometimes you even said hi.
And I always smiled back.
I wonder if you noticed that mine never reached my eyes.
The truth is, I wanted you to see me.
Not the version I showed —
but the wreckage underneath.
The part of me that was screaming without making a sound.
But you didn’t.
And that’s okay.
You couldn’t have known.
I made sure of it.
This isn’t your fault.
But it’s not mine either.
So if you find this someday — the pages I’ve left behind, the list under my pillow —
Don’t cry for me.
Just remember me.
All of me.
Even the parts I was too afraid to show.
— A.
