.

you came again. You come every day, bringing flowers… but you still won’t talk to me.

Alex, can you hear me?

Why am I here, locked in this dark, windowless room? I can't breathe. Please…

why won’t you say anything? Are you still mad at me? I'm sorry—I should have listened to you that day.

They came again, Alex.

They dug their nails into my scars, clawing at me. But this time… I felt nothing. No pain. Just emptiness.

And now… my ears are ringing. It hurts.

---

Alex's hands were raw, dirt clinging to his fingers as he dug frantically, hammering against the wooden coffin. Desperation twisted his face as he pulled the fragile body into his arms—cold, scarred, lifeless.

Gasps echoed around him. Murmurs of disgust.

"He's insane."

"A creep."

"He’s defiling the dead!"

But Alex didn't hear them. He held her tighter, rocking back and forth, whispering, "Amy… she can't breathe. She's in pain. They’ll come for her again. I have to save her…"

His voice cracked, his grip unrelenting—as if holding her close could bring her back.

As if love alone could undo death.

©Aksa