DEAD BODY
After finishing the food, I walked to the sink and washed my hands, letting the water run a little longer than needed, as if I was trying to wash away something more than just the taste lingering on my fingers. I left the plate there without thinking much. I would clean it later.
I walked back to the room and sat on the bed, pulling myself into a quiet corner of my own thoughts. The silence returned again, heavy and familiar, wrapping around me like something I couldn’t escape from.
And then—
A sudden flash of light cut through the sky.
It was sharp. Bright. Blinding for a second.
I immediately covered my ears, my body reacting before my mind could even process it, because I knew what was coming next. The brighter the light, the louder the sound.
And just as expected—
A deafening thunder followed.
It echoed through the walls, through the air, through my chest, like something was breaking apart far away yet close enough to shake everything around me. It sounded like a mountain collapsing into itself.
In the very next second, the lights went off.
Darkness.
Complete and sudden.
Power cut.
For a moment, I couldn’t see anything. The room disappeared, the walls, the objects, everything blending into one endless black, broken only by the occasional flicker of lightning from outside and the faint glow of his phone screen.
“Wait,” he muttered under his breath before walking out of the room, the torch from his phone guiding his steps.
I stayed where I was, my fingers still lightly pressed against my ears as the sound of rain began to settle outside. Grandpa used to say that summer rains always come with louder thunders, as if the sky itself was restless.
I let out a slow breath.
A few seconds later, I heard his footsteps again.
When I turned, he was there—standing at the doorway, holding a candle in his hand. He switched off the phone torch, and for a brief second, everything fell into darkness again.
And then—
The flame flickered to life.
Soft. Golden.
The room, which was drowning in darkness just moments ago, slowly filled with a quiet warmth. The light wasn’t strong, but it was enough. Enough to see. Enough to feel.
Enough to change something.
He stepped inside carefully, shielding the flame with his hand, making sure it didn’t go out. The glow of the candle reflected on his face, casting soft golden waves over his skin, making it look warmer, gentler… different.
For a moment, he didn’t look like the same man I had been arguing with all this while.
He looked… calm.
Quiet.
Almost distant in his own way.
My breath hitched without warning.
I didn’t move.
I just stood there, watching him.
As if the world had paused for a second.
As if nothing else existed beyond that small circle of light.
He walked toward the table and tilted the candle slightly, letting the melted wax drip down before fixing it in place. The flame steadied itself, standing still now, its light stretching across the room in soft, flickering shadows.
I sat back on the bed slowly, the softness beneath me doing nothing to ease the restlessness inside. My eyes instinctively searched for my phone, but it lay there useless, a dead weight in my hand.
Out of battery.
Of course.
I hadn’t even charged it.
A small sound of irritation escaped my lips as I dropped it beside me, staring at it for a moment longer than necessary. It was ridiculous how something so small had become my only escape. The only thing that could pull my mind away from everything I didn’t want to feel.
How am I supposed to spend the night now?
The thought settled heavily, almost childish, yet painfully real. My phone was never just a device. It was noise. Distraction. A way to avoid thinking, to avoid remembering, to avoid feeling things that refused to stay buried.
Without it…
There was nothing.
Just me.
And this silence.
And him.
The candlelight flickered softly, casting shadows that moved along the walls, making the room feel unfamiliar, almost intimate in a way I didn’t like. The quiet wasn’t empty anymore—it was filled with everything I was trying to escape from.
I hugged myself slightly, my fingers gripping my arms as if I could hold myself together.
I didn’t like this.
I didn’t like being left alone with my thoughts.
Because when there was nothing to distract me…
Everything came back.
Suddenly, a soft wave of music filled the space, slipping into the silence without asking, without warning.
I lifted my head, my gaze immediately finding him.
He sat there, as if the world didn’t exist beyond that chair. His legs stretched out onto the table, his back leaning against the wood, his head slightly tilted back, eyes closed—like he had surrendered himself to the song playing through his phone.
The candlelight danced faintly over his face, but he didn’t move.
He just… listened.
The song was slow.
Painfully slow.
It carried a kind of sadness that didn’t need explanation, the kind that settles into your chest and refuses to leave. A broken love. A man singing to someone who left him, someone who chose someone else over him.
My jaw tightened slightly.
Of course.
Of all the songs in the world, he chose this.
As if the air wasn’t already heavy enough.
As if this night needed more weight.
I shifted slightly on the bed, trying to ignore it, trying to push it away, but the sound wrapped around me, refusing to stay distant. It filled the room, echoed in the silence, made everything feel more intense than it already was.
If he wants to mourn for his ex…
Then this is not the place.
The thought came sharp, laced with irritation I couldn’t quite hide even from myself.
And then—
That line came.
The one that lingered longer than the rest.
Where he sings that he hopes she finds happiness with whoever she chose… but someday, she would think of him and realize what she lost. Realize that she walked away from someone who loved her deeply.
Something in me twisted at that.
I don’t know why.
It wasn’t my story.
It wasn’t my pain.
But the words didn’t just stay his. They floated in the room, settling into places they didn’t belong, touching things I didn’t want to acknowledge.
My fingers curled slightly against the bedsheet.
Why does he still think about her like that?
Why does it sound like he still cares?
Why does it feel like…
He is still waiting for her to regret it?
A faint irritation rose inside me, sharper this time, mixed with something I didn’t want to name.
I looked at him again.
Eyes closed.
Lost.
Like the world around him didn’t matter at all.
And for some reason…
That annoyed me more than anything else.
Another line of the song slipped through the air, softer yet heavier, as if it carried something deeper than just words.
In which the man asks when she lost the version of herself he once cherished… the one he had built dreams around, the one he thought would stay.
My chest tightened.
I didn’t know her.
I didn’t know what kind of person she was, what she did, or what she became. I didn’t know the full story, didn’t know the truth behind their past. But I didn’t need to.
Because some things were too obvious to miss.
Adithya still miss her.
In the songs he chose.
In the way he closed his eyes like he was somewhere else.
In the silence that followed him even when he was right here.
He hadn’t moved on from her.
That much was clear.
And maybe… that was expected.
Getting cheated on doesn’t just end a relationship. It breaks something deeper. It leaves behind questions that don’t have answers, wounds that don’t close easily. It lingers in places you don’t expect, in moments you don’t prepare for.
It hurts differently.
I shifted slightly, my fingers tightening around the edge of the bedsheet without realizing it.
He isn’t here.
Not completely.
A part of him is still stuck somewhere in the past, holding onto something that already slipped through his hands.
A strange feeling settled inside me.
Not sympathy.
Not completely.
But something close to it.
Because for once…
I wasn’t the only one carrying something heavy inside.
The song slowly faded into the air, leaving behind a strange heaviness that didn’t disappear with the last note. It was sad—painfully so. And when you could relate to even a fraction of those words, it didn’t just sound like a song anymore. It felt like something pressing against your chest.
Poor him.
The thought slipped in quietly.
Eh… what?
I frowned slightly at myself.
Poor him?
This guy?
Yes, maybe he was poor economically. That much was obvious. But emotionally? No. Not him. Not the same man who left me in the middle of the road without even looking back.
I clicked my tongue, irritation rising again as I looked at him. He was still there, sitting with his eyes closed, as if the world had paused just for him and his heartbreak.
It felt… annoying.
Cringe.
Mourning over someone who cheated on him, as if she deserved even a fraction of that space in his mind.
Something inside me snapped.
Without thinking twice, I grabbed the pillow beside me and threw it straight at hiis face.
It hit him off guard, making him jerk slightly on the chair as his eyes flew open. He looked at me, startled, confusion flashing across his face.
“Shut the song,” I snapped, my voice sharp, cutting through the already tense air.
“I like this song,” he shot back, his brows furrowing slightly, irritation creeping into his tone.
“I hate that song,” I replied immediately, not even trying to soften it.
“I don’t care,” he said, just as stubborn, as he reached for his phone again and played it.
“Shut up. My favorite line is coming,” he muttered, closing his eyes once more like nothing else mattered.
I let out a frustrated sound, the irritation bubbling over completely this time. I stood up abruptly, walked straight to him, and without giving myself a second to think, I snatched the phone from his hand and turned the song off.
The room fell silent again.
He groaned in irritation, running a hand through his hair as he looked at me like I had just committed some unforgivable crime.
And for a moment…
Neither of us looked away.
“I might have left you there,” he muttered, his voice low, almost like he didn’t want it to reach me fully.
I let out a dry scoff, not even looking at him. “Oh yeah? Then why did you come back? I didn’t ask you to,” I said, my tone sharp, careless—like it didn’t matter.
But it did.
And I hated that it did.
He froze.
Completely.
The air shifted for a moment, like something had been said that couldn’t be taken back. He didn’t reply. Not even a word.
That silence again.
I rolled my eyes, turning my attention back to his phone, my fingers scrolling through his Spotify as if I needed something to distract myself.
And then I saw it.
Playlist after playlist.
All the same.
All broken.
All filled with songs that sounded like they were written just to bleed.
And then one caught my eye.
“Love failure songs.”
I scrunched my nose immediately, a small sound of disgust slipping out before I could stop it.
“Gross,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head slightly.
Who even listens to this much sadness on purpose?
I tapped on it anyway.
Of course I did.
Because something about him didn’t make sense…
And for some reason, I wanted to understand it.
A soft wave of another love song filled the room, gentle but heavy in its own way, like it carried emotions I didn’t want to sit with.
“Don’t change that. It’s my favourite song,” he said, pulling the same pillow I had thrown at him earlier into his arms, hugging it like it belonged to him now.
I didn’t even look at him before changing it.
Immediately.
Without a second thought.
He clicked his tongue in irritation, the sound sharp in the quiet room, but I ignored him and switched to YouTube instead, scrolling through his feed like I was searching for something—anything—that didn’t feel like heartbreak.
But nothing felt interesting.
Nothing felt mine.
His feed was nothing like mine.
No random chaos. No distractions.
Just… silence in another form.
Video after video filled with philosophical thoughts, life lessons, slow voices talking about pain, healing, loneliness… things I didn’t have the patience to sit and listen to.
I frowned slightly, my thumb slowing down as the realization settled in.
This is what he watches?
This is what he listens to?
No wonder he feels like a walking cloud of sadness.
“You are so boring,” I muttered, the words slipping out naturally as I tossed the phone back to him without much care.
It took it from me, the screen dimming as the room fell back into that same quiet again.
His life felt so… still.
No joy.
No fun.
No chaos.
Just quiet.
I couldn’t understand it.
How do people even live like that?
Life had thrown things at me too. Things I never asked for. Things I never deserved. Pain that didn’t leave, memories that didn’t fade. But I never sat down and listened to sad songs like this, letting it sink deeper into me.
I just… moved on.
Or at least, that’s what I told myself.
I called it bad luck. I called it fate. I told myself nothing could be changed, so there was no point holding onto it. I walked away from everything that tried to pull me down, never stopping long enough to feel it fully.
Because feeling it…
Would break me.
My fingers tightened slightly around my own arms as I sat there, the thought settling deeper than I wanted it to.
Maybe that’s the difference between us.
Maybe he feels.
Maybe he mourns.
Maybe he lets things hurt him, lets them stay, lets them exist inside him without running away from it.
Because he is still human.
A strange, bitter smile touched my lips for a brief second before fading.
And me?
I don’t know what I am anymore.
I have lived through things that carved something out of me piece by piece until there was nothing left to react the way it used to. The fear, the anger, the hatred—they stayed. They grew. But the softer things… the things that made someone human…
They left.
Or maybe I buried them so deep that I convinced myself they were gone.
I leaned my head back slightly, staring at nothing, the candlelight flickering faintly in my vision.
I feel like a body that’s just… moving.
Breathing. Talking. Arguing. Surviving.
But not really living.
A body with a soul…
But no feelings left to hold onto.
A walking dead body.