Voicemails - 10

cw: mentions of abuse, mentions of rape, mentions of suicide

★★★★★

It's strange how some things feel frozen in time.

The building felt smaller. Maybe because I had grown. Maybe because the weight I carried back then made the ceilings seem higher, the doors heavier.

I stood outside my old apartment complex, staring at the rusted mailbox with my faded name still clinging to the slot.

Across the hallway, Rafayel's door remained untouched. Covered in silence and cobwebs. Just like mine.

I almost expected him to be there. A foolish part of me thought the door would swing open. That he'd be standing there with paint on his cheek and a tired, playful smile.

But no.

It was just another ghost I'd imagined.

I sighed.

And turned the key to my own door.

The hinges groaned like they were protesting the light that poured in after all these years. Dust floated in the air like remnants of old memories. The air smelled of paper and time.

It was still home.

Kind of.

─── ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ───

I didn't waste time.

Rolled up my sleeves. Opened the windows. Let the old energy out.

I scrubbed and vacuumed. Washed the curtains. Changed the sheets. Mopped the floor three times. Ugh, Caleb used to clean for me since I hate cleaning.

But every movement felt like reclaiming a piece of myself.

The girl who once lived here didn't know how strong she would need to be.

Now she did.

─── ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ───

While sorting through boxes under the bed, I found old bits of my past.

Stuffed animals with stitches coming loose. Photo albums with corners chewed by time. A picture of my parents - smiling, alive. Before the crash. Before everything.

A crumpled polaroid of Caleb and me. His grin was all teeth and sunlight. I felt my chest tighten, but I didn't cry this time. I just pressed the photo to my chest and whispered his name.

He would've teased me for crying over dusty pictures, I know he would've.

I smiled at that. A small, genuine one.

Then I found it.

A phone.

Old. Slightly cracked. And on its case - a charm. Worn out but still hanging on by its thread.

A tiny, hand-painted jellyfish phone charm.

My breath caught in my throat.

It looked exactly like the one Rafayel used to have dangling from his phone.

And then it hit me.

That day. The explosion.

The kind woman.

The phone she handed me while I was crying, saying, "My nephew is gonna call... tell him to be strong..."

I was busy crying that time.

I never found out who he was.

Until now - maybe.

I turned the phone over in my hands. It was completely dead, cold in my palm like it had been forgotten for far too long.

I stood up, heart racing, and searched for my spare charging cables. After rummaging through a drawer of tangled cords and dead pens, I found one that fit.

I plugged it in.

The screen stayed black for a second.

Then -

Buzz.

The screen lit up dimly, flickering like a heartbeat trying to return.

And I just stood there, staring. Because deep down, I already knew.

This wasn't just any phone.

This was the first thing that connected me and Rafayel.

─── ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ───

I sat down on the floor next to the wall outlet, the phone buzzing softly in my hand as it powered back to life.

My chest was tight.

Not with pain. Not even with hope.

Just questions.

So many, layered over years of silence.

I didn't know what I'd find. Messages? Photos Or maybe nothing at all.

But I knew I had to look.

Because maybe-just maybe-the threads of our past had been tied long before we even met.

Are we fated to meet?

And I was ready to find out how.

I didn't expect the screen to turn on so fast. The battery percentage blinked in red - 6%.

Just enough to ruin me.

There was no password. Just a simple swipe up. And the wallpaper... God.

It was a photo.

Of Rafayel.

Little Rafayel.

A woman's hand rested on her shoulder.

Her face was out of frame - but it's clearly her.

Talia.

That was her name.

Rafayel's aunt.

He told me about her. How Talia cared for him when his parents neglected him. How she comforted him by doing simple things.

My throat burned.

It was real.

The connection. The fated encounter. The stupid little twist of fate that decided two broken kids should meet twice in one lifetime.

I was shaking as I tapped into the phone's messages.

There was a folder under Voicemails. It had 58 messages. Each one labeled simply:"From Rafie - July 5""Rafie - December 24"Each one spanning years.

I don't know what part of me expected some of them to be blank.

Or safe.

Or easy to ignore.

But the moment I pressed play on the first one...

His voice hit me like a knife to the ribs.

─── ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ───

"Hey... Auntie. You probably won't hear this. I know you're gone. But I just-"

He laughed.

But it wasn't funny.

"I just need to talk. And pretending you're still on the other end makes things easier."

There was silence. Then-

"Thomas thought I was crazy for painting upside down. And my psychiatrist's voice oddly calms me down. It's familiar. Very familiar."

"I don't know but, I think she knows you. I think she's the one who I talked to before. I don't believe in love at first sight. Buttttt, I kinda do now."

"I didn't believe I was inlove at first. But the moment she smiled-God, I knew that this is it. She's the one that I'll love forever."

I paused it.

Tears were already burning the corners of my eyes.

This wasn't just a coincidence.

He loved me. From the start.

─── ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ───

I kept listening.

Day turned into dusk.

Message after message.

They weren't all about me.

Some were soft updates.

"Finished another painting today. Client didn't pay on time. Again."

Some were painful.

"I woke up from a dream again. The kind that makes you cry without understanding why."

And some-

Some broke me...

Rafayel was crying. My baby was crying.

"I got raped by Sienna. She drugged me.."

"I didn't want Y/N to be with me anymore. After what happened with that woman... the actress... I felt like trash. No, worse than trash. I can't even say it out loud."

"S-she touched me, Talia. I asked for help and people didn't believe me. They didn't believe that a man can be raped too! I hate it. I hate myself."

"Her bodyguards kept chasing me. Beating me up in places that isn't really visible when dressed. My body feels weak."

"And now I can't even look my girlfriend in the eye without remembering what that damn wench's fingers felt like. How she forced herself on me. I feel disgusting. Y/N doesn't deserve me..."

I pressed pause, hand trembling.

We were both... suffering at the same time and neither one of us wanted to let the other know that we're in pain.

I chuckled emptily.

I wanted to scream. Cry. Go back in time and punch that bitch in the face.

Instead, I just pressed play to listen to another voicemail.

"I want to die. I want to disappear. I feel so disgusted with myself."

"She heard me the other day. I think. When I told the suicide hotline that I didn't want to wake up anymore. That I didn't think I deserved her."

"She probably thinks that I'm talking to someone else."

A bitter laugh.

"I can't even blame her. I've been so cold. So distant. But it's the only way I can keep her from getting hurt."

"I don't want her to know my filth."

"I don't want her to see me fall apart."

"We broke up. But God, I miss her."

─── ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ───

By the time I reached the most recent voicemail - dated just a few weeks before I came back - I wasn't even crying anymore.

Just... hollow.

He didn't want to end our relationship.

He accepted it because he hated himself.

Just like how I hated me.

─── ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ───

"It's been five years since I last heard from her. I think she's gone for good..."

"I hope she's happy. I hope someone brings her coffee in the morning and walks her home at night. But... at the same tim, I don't want her to have someone else."

"If you're listening, Aunt Talia - I just wanted to say... I tried. I really tried to move forward."

"But some days... it's still hard to breathe without her."

"Anyway. Goodnight. Thomas is screaming at me."

Click.

End of file.

─── ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ───

I sat there.

Frozen.

Surrounded by boxes, dust, and the ghosts of conversations that never reached me.

Rafayel didn't give up on me.

I gave up on him.

I believed the silence.

Believed the worst.

Believed that I wasn't worth the truth.

But the truth was never meant to hurt me.It was only locked inside a boy too wounded to speak.

And now... I don't even know where he is.

Maybe he's still in Linkon.

Maybe he's left the country.

Maybe he's somewhere...

─── ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ───

I picked up the phone and held it close.

"I'm sorry, Rafayel" I whispered into the silence. "God, I'm so, so sorry."

And I meant it.

With every piece of me.

★★★★★