Heka slowly opened his eyes. The soft light filtered through the bathroom window casting a pale glow on the tiled walls. He was still sitting in the tub, the warm water lapping gently around him. He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep.
His body was once numb and frozen from the cold. Now he felt comfortably warm, a small but significant sign that he was no longer trapped in that icy paralysis. With a quiet sigh, he reached out and turned off the tap, the steady drip of water ceasing at last.
He carefully lifted himself out of the tub. The water cascaded down his arms and legs as he stepped onto the cold floor.
As he stepped into the foyer, a sudden realization struck him. The floor beneath his feet was slick and wet.
His eyes widened as he looked around. The entire house was flooded. Water pooled in every corner, seeping under the doors and soaking the carpets. The sound of dripping echoed through the rooms, a constant reminder of the forgotten faucet.
"Everywhere is full of water." He muttered to himself. A mix of frustration and exhaustion weighed down his voice.
Before he could begin to assess the damage, a sharp knock came at the front door. Heka's heart skipped a beat. "Certainly, someone definitely comes to raise a stink."
He hesitated for a moment, then stepped out and opened the door. Standing there, were his neighbors, a kindly married couple who had lived next door for over years. Their faces were etched with concern.
"Heka, are you okay? What happened? Why is your house full of water?" The woman asked gently. Her eyes searched his face for answers.
Heka swallowed hard, feeling the familiar sting of embarrassment. He admitted quietly. "I just forgot to turn off the faucet. I'm sorry."
The man stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Heka's shoulder. "Are you okay? We know it must be very hard for you. If you need some help, don't hesitate to tell us."
Heka forced a small nod. "Okay, thank you very much. I'll clean the house first."
Without waiting for a response, he closed the door firmly behind him.
Inside, the silence felt heavier than the water that soaked his floors. He didn't want anyone's pity or attention over him.
To him, the neighbor's kindly words were just empty echoes. A sweet phrase that people said out of obligation or fleeting sympathy. He had learned long ago that such words were often withdrawn or forgotten when the moment passed, leaving only the cold reality behind.
That was why, all this time, he had chosen to be quiet and closed off. Like a fortress built around his heart.
His silence was a shield against the world's disappointments and betrayals. He didn't want to open up. He didn't want to risk the pain when it came with trusting others.
As he rolled up his sleeves and began to mop the water from the floor. The flood in his house was a reflection of the flood inside him. It was messy, overwhelming, and something he had to face alone.
***
After he cleaned his house. He opened the window. He looked up at the sky full of stars. "Can I hope to live a quiet life? When no one leaves me alone. No one betrayed me. No one hurt me."
He didn't know how he lived the next day. He felt devastated there was no point for him to live. His life was empty, all he had was gone.
He seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. He became an unbearable burden to those around him, especially to Clancy and Ansel. Despite their constant presence and unwavering support.
He couldn't shake the gnawing sense that he was draining their strength, that his pain was theirs to bear.
Yet, the cruelest irony was that while they stood steadfastly by his side, he had shut himself away. He refused to acknowledge the toll of silence and sorrow they took on, and who cared for him most.
The room was dim. The fading light cast long shadows across the walls as he closed the window with a soft click.
Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring the memories that surged unbidden to the surface. The snafu that had shattered his world. The accident that took his parents from him was a wound that never truly healed.
He whispered to the empty room. His voice was trembling with guilt and sorrow. "I should be the one who has experienced the accident, not my parents. I should be the one who died, and not them. I'm sorry for being useless as a child…"
In the depths of his mind, a fragile hope flickered, a desperate wish for a miracle. Heka longed to turn back time, to rewrite the past and save his parents from the cruel fate that had befallen them.
The thought consumed him. A silent prayer that maybe, just maybe, he could undo the tragedy that had defined his life.
But if there was a price to pay for such a miracle, Heka was determined. It must be his own soul, not someone else's. Moreover, they were an important person in his life.
"Ansel…"
The name escaped his lips like a fragile hope, the single word carrying the weight of all his longing. But even as he spoke it, he knew he couldn't ask for help again. Ansel had already given so much.
A selfish act that would only bring pain to the one person who had stood by him without any doubt.
He told himself firmly, though his heart ached. "Impossible. He has helped me a lot. I don't want to burden him anymore. I'd rather stay away from him, from his life. It seems better for us not to meet each other."
It was his decision and a promise to himself. Whatever happened to him, it was better not to involve Ansel.
But the path forward was unclear. He wanted to reclaim his life, to find a new beginning amid the ruins of his past.