11/12/2024
Story Time...
Title: Silent Battles
Daniel often wondered when life had started feeling this way like a weight he couldn’t shake off, pressing harder with every breath. His chest felt heavy most days, as though the air around him had thickened into something unbreathable.
He had everything he needed on paper: skills honed over years of study, a work ethic that rarely wavered, and dreams vivid enough to illuminate the darkest corners of his mind. Yet, opportunity seemed allergic to him. Doors remained closed, and behind them, laughter mocked his persistence. The world measured worth by success, and Daniel was falling short.
At night, when the world quieted, the real battle began. His thoughts became a war zone. One side whispered, “Keep going; you’re almost there,” while the other hissed, “You’re not enough, and you never will be.” Sometimes, he imagined his mind as a team he couldn’t control. One side striving for victory, the other sabotaging every play.
Daniel began withdrawing. Calls went unanswered, texts ignored. Even his mother noticed the spark in his eyes had dimmed. “You have people around you, my son. Don’t carry the weight alone,” she said one evening. He nodded but couldn’t speak. How could he explain that he felt surrounded yet so profoundly alone?
In an attempt to rebuild his life, Daniel got married. His wife, Asha, was kind and hopeful, her belief in him, a faint light in his otherwise dark world. Daniel thought her love would help him rise above his failures, that together, they could build something new. But reality was harsher than his dreams.
With Asha came added responsibility. The pressure of providing for a family with no steady income crushed Daniel even further. Every unpaid bill, every basic need he couldn’t meet, gnawed at his already fragile sense of worth. He would sit in silence, staring at Asha, wanting to explain the storm inside him but unable to find the words.
“I just need time,” he’d say, but the words felt hollow even to himself.
The weight of his struggles began to show. Friends drifted away, whispering behind his back that Daniel had grown lazy, perhaps even deceitful. Siblings who once admired him now openly questioned his character, labeling him manipulative. The cousins he’d helped with advice and resources in the past avoided his calls, seeing him as a burden rather than a brother.
Even within his family, Daniel’s voice was no longer welcome. Important decisions were made without his input, as though he’d become invisible in their eyes. His sisters, who once treated Asha warmly, now looked down on her, criticizing her lack of education and exposure to the modern world. Asha tried to stay strong, but their dismissive comments cut deep, and Daniel’s inability to defend her only widened the distance between them.
In his most vulnerable moments, Daniel would retreat into the shower, letting the water disguise the tears streaming down his face. It was the only place he felt safe enough to cry. He would stare at his reflection in the mirror afterward, searching for the man he once was, only to find a hollowed shell staring back.
As the days turned into nights, and the nights into more days, Daniel found even the tiniest flicker of hope begin to dim. Where once he had dreamt of climbing out of the abyss, now he felt as though he was sinking deeper into it.
One evening, long after Asha had gone to bed, Daniel sat alone in the dim glow of a dying bulb. His chest tightened as he stared at a blank sheet of paper on the table before him. Was it a place to pen his dreams one last time? Or a note to leave behind?
The clock ticked loudly in the silence, each second slicing through the stillness like a blade. Somewhere in the house, a faint drip of water echoed, as if counting down to a decision.
For hours, Daniel sat motionless, the paper untouched, his mind swirling with memories, regrets, and questions he couldn’t answer. When Asha woke up the next morning, she found the chair empty, the paper folded neatly on the table.
But Daniel was nowhere to be seen.
To be continued...
