---
I looked into the mirror.
"Is this… me?"
The face staring back was tired. Not from a day's work — I didn't even have a job — but from being. Existing. Day after day. Waking up to the same ceiling, the same silence, the same unanswered questions.
My hand rose, fingertips brushing across the reflection.
Cold. Hollow.
"I don't want to see myself like this anymore," I said.
No one answered.
Not the cracked ceiling.
Not the grey walls.
Not the world that kept moving like I wasn't even there.
Then came the sound. Not a voice. Not a scream. Just shattering.
I didn't remember deciding to hit the mirror. But I remembered the feeling.
Like something inside me finally gave up. Or maybe... finally broke free.
---
I sat on the bed afterward, beside the ruins of glass. It felt quiet. Too quiet. The kind that pressed down on your chest like grief you couldn't explain.
"Have I been doing it all wrong?" I whispered.
I tried so many things—reading tutorials, taking online courses, applying to jobs that didn't even send rejections back.
I tried being normal. I really did.
But nothing stuck.
Not because I was lazy.
Because my mind… didn't fit.
"I just want to create something," I said. "Something that matters."
---
Outside the window, the sky was its usual pale grey. Our world never changed much. People worked, slept, bought groceries, scrolled through their phones, and pretended they were okay.
But I knew deep down—I wasn't born just to repeat what everyone else does.
There was something different about the way I saw things.
Patterns.
Connections.
Questions no one else seemed to ask.
And maybe, just maybe… that difference wasn't a curse.
Maybe it was the start of something.
---
I stood up and wiped the blood from my knuckles. No drama. No magic. Just a quiet decision.
"I'll build it," I whispered.
I didn't know what it was. Not yet.
But something had already started forming in my mind.
Not a machine. Not a weapon.
An idea.
One that might open a door no one else had ever found.
And one day...
you will be the witness.
---