Chapter 3

3

The downward spiral lasted six weeks. I lost fourteen pounds during that time.

My collarbones stuck out like two handleless knives. One day, the convenience store owner saw me buying water and flinched.

“Kid, are you sick? Your face is as white as a sheet.” I said I was fine, paid, and left.

On my way back, I saw my reflection in a glass door. My hair was flat, my lips were cracked, and my eyes looked like they were staring up from the bottom of a well.

I suddenly realized I didn't recognize myself anymore.

On the Saturday of the sixth week, I was lying on the floor. My phone was dead, and the charging cable was broken.

The cracks in the ceiling looked like a map. They branched out from the corner like a river that had been dry for years.

At the end of one branch, I saw a crack that looked like a person falling.

If I just disappeared right now, would anyone notice? It would probably take three days.

Maybe my mom would call the police after I stopped answering. Maybe the landlord would find me when the rent was late.

Suddenly, my phone lit up. It restarted on its own.

A screen appeared that I had never seen before. Black background, white text, simple and clean.

At the top, it read: “SoulMend System V.3.7.1.”

A loading icon spun three times. Then, the first message appeared.

“Emotional trauma detected. Tests show you are in the early stages of PTSD. Activate repair protocol?”

I thought it was a virus. I tapped “Cancel.”

The system responded immediately. “Refusal detected. However, repair necessity is judged as extremely high. Initiating mandatory assessment.”

Three modules appeared: “Psychological Analysis,” “Emotional Venting,” and “Cognitive Reconstruction.”

Each had a progress bar. They were empty, but a green triangle pointed to the first one, labeled “Start.”

I stared at the screen for a long time. Then, I tapped “Start.”