There's a moment… right before everything changes.
You don't notice it at first.
It feels normal.
Ordinary.
And then suddenly…
It isn't.
That's exactly how it felt when I saw Sarah again.
She was sitting alone in the library.
Of all places.
Quiet.
Empty.
Of course she'd choose somewhere like that.
Somewhere people didn't ask questions.
I stood there for a second.
Watching her.
She didn't look up.
Didn't react.
"Are you going to keep staring," she said calmly,
"or are you actually going to say something?"
I exhaled.
Walked in.
Sat across from her.
"You always liked quiet places," I said.
"And you always liked ruining them," she replied, turning a page without even looking at me.
Same Sarah.
Sharp.
Untouchable.
But something was different.
She was too calm.
"You've been avoiding me," I said.
"I've been avoiding problems," she corrected.
"Same thing."
That made her pause.
Just for a second.
Then she closed the book slowly.
"What do you want, Lucas?"
"The truth."
She almost smiled.
"Of course you do."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
Silence.
She leaned back in her chair.
Studying me.
"You really don't remember," she said.
Not a question.
A statement.
"I remember enough," I replied.
"That's not the same thing."
"Then fill in the rest."
She laughed softly.
"You think it's that simple?"
"No," I said.
"But I think you know more than you're saying."
Her eyes locked on mine.
"I know everything," she said.
That hit different.
Not dramatic.
Not loud.
Just… true.
"Then tell me," I said.
She didn't answer right away.
Instead…
She leaned forward.
"Do you remember the rain?" she asked.
Something inside me shifted.
"Yes."
"The argument?"
My jaw tightened.
"…yes."
She nodded slowly.
"And after that?"
Silence.
Because that's where everything blurred.
"I…" I stopped.
Nothing.
Just noise.
Just fragments.
"I don't," I admitted.
There it was.
The truth.
Sarah watched me carefully.
"Of course you don't," she said quietly.
"What does that mean?"
She hesitated.
For the first time…
She hesitated.
"You were there," she said.
My chest tightened.
"I know that."
"No," she shook her head.
"You don't understand."
"Then make me understand."
Her fingers tightened slightly over the book.
"You weren't just there, Lucas."
Silence.
"You were part of it."
The words hit harder than anything else so far.
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
Her voice dropped.
"You were the reason it happened."
Everything inside me froze.
"That's not true."
"Isn't it?" she challenged.
"I would remember."
"Would you?" she asked quietly.
Silence.
Because now…
I wasn't so sure.
"People forget things," she continued.
"Especially when they can't live with them."
I stood up.
"No," I said.
"You're wrong."
She didn't move.
Didn't react.
"Am I?" she asked.
I ran a hand through my hair.
"This doesn't make any sense."
"It will," she said.
"When?"
"When you're ready to see it."
"I am ready."
"No," she shook her head again.
"You're just desperate."
That hit.
Because it was true.
"Why didn't anyone tell me this before?" I asked.
"Because it would destroy you."
"And this won't?"
She didn't answer.
That was enough.
"Tell me what I did," I said.
Her eyes softened.
Just a little.
And for the first time…
She didn't look like she had control.
"Lucas…" she started.
Then stopped.
Silence.
Heavy.
"I can't," she whispered.
"Why not?"
"Because once you know…"
she paused
"…you won't be the same."
Too late.
I already wasn't.
I stepped back.
"Everyone keeps saying that," I said.
"Like I'm the problem."
"You are," she said softly.
That was it.
I turned.
Started walking away.
"Lucas."
I stopped.
"Be careful what you're trying to remember," she said.
I didn't turn back.
"Why?" I asked.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Because some truths…"
she paused
"…don't just hurt you."
Silence.
"They destroy everyone around you."
I walked out.
But this time…
I didn't feel confused.
I felt something else.
Fear.
Because if she was right…
Then I wasn't just looking for the truth.
I was running straight into it.
🖤 Poem — Sarah
I held the truth in silence
like it wasn't mine to tell
but some secrets rot inside you
and turn your mind to hell
and the worst part isn't knowing…
it's knowing all too well