Leon isn't himself. He moves through the house differently now - his steps hesitant, as if expecting the floor to fall away beneath him. He flinches at sounds I don't hear, his shoulders tensing, his head tilting ever so slightly, like he's listening to something just beyond my reach.
One night, I wake up to find him standing in front of the mirror, perfectly still. My throat tightens. "Leon?"
He doesn't answer. I step closer, my reflection moving in the glass while his remains frozen.
"What are you looking at?"
Finally, he turns to me, his face pale, his eyes wide with something I can't name. "It smiled at me," he whispers.
A chill crawls down my spine. I tell him to see a doctor. He doesn't respond. Instead, he walks past me like a ghost.
I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm watching him unravel, thread by thread, and I don't know how to hold him together.
One night, I wake up to find him standing in front of the mirror, perfectly still. My throat tightens. "Leon?"
He doesn't answer. I step closer, my reflection moving in the glass while his remains frozen.
"What are you looking at?"
Finally, he turns to me, his face pale, his eyes wide with something I can't name. "It smiled at me," he whispers.
A chill crawls down my spine. I tell him to see a doctor. He doesn't respond. Instead, he walks past me like a ghost.
I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm watching him unravel, thread by thread, and I don't know how to hold him together.
Support Asom Doom Mary
