Novel & Cerita I Think I Am Alone Now

“It’s the only way I learn anything from you anymore. It feels like I don’t know you at all anymore.” “It feels like I don’t know you either,” I say. And it hits me. It does feel like I don’t know my own brother, even though he’s truly the only person I have left in this world. I am truly alone.

Alone. In the depths of the secluded cabin, embraced by the serenity of nature, Tina found herself grappling with the heart-wrenching consequences of her impulsive actions. The weight of her regret settled heavily upon her shoulders, branding her with the scars of remorse. She sat alone, surrounded by silence, lost in a labyrinth of her thoughts, tormented by the choices she had made.

‘So, you’re here alone. I rolled my eyes so hard I saw my own brain. ‘In case your billionaire powers of observation have failed you, Portia and Josh are down there. They’re fully formed human beings. I’m not marooned on a desert island.’ ‘You know what I mean.’ I sighed. ‘Fine. If you mean, am I here alone, unattached, tragically single, a pathetic singleton surrounded by a sea of Valentine’s couples, then yes. Congratulations on your deduction. I am alone. Are you happy now?’

My reflection catches me every time I turn, pale and wide-eyed, a stranger wearing my face. I think about my mother, and how she would have known exactly what to say to me right now. I think about how there's no one else I can call, not really, not about this. My coworker would ask questions I'm not ready to answer. Everyone else in my life has drifted just far enough away that a moment like this one has nowhere to land except on me alone. Alone. The word sits heavy in my chest. I glance at the phone. One minute left.

I can’t breathe. It’s too much. This pain… this doesn’t feel right. Logan and Brie… they’re not here, wherever we are. I’m alone. I’m alone–and I’m trapped. The stars fade into darkness again. The quiet kind.

“No visitors today either?” “No,” I said quietly, looking away. “And that’s how I want it.” She nodded like she understood more than she let on and left the room without pressing. I turned onto my side, ignoring the protest from my ribs, and stared at the wall. No parents. No Elias. No Clara coming to gloat. No friends who probably didn’t even know I was here because I’d never told them how bad things had gotten. Just me, the machines, and the quiet realization that I had finally become exactly what I’d always feared: completely alone.

“Explain.” My voice dropped. Firm now. Because I wasn’t letting that go. Not this time. She studied me for a moment. Then said “You made this decision alone the first time.” A beat. “No one stood with you.” My breath caught slightly. Because I felt that. That emptiness. That isolation. Even without the full memory I could feel it. “And now?” I asked quietly. Her gaze softened. Just a little. Enough to change the weight of her words. “Now you’re not alone.”

“Unless you want all that working out to go to waste.” “Put them in the kitchen,” I tell him. “Maybe I’ll eat later if I’m hungry.” Al doesn’t move for a second. I know he wants to give me a pep talk, either about how Layla will eventually come back to me, or about how I need to move on, neither of which I want to hear right now. Thankfully, he decides better of it and heads to the kitchen, leaving me alone. Alone… That’s what I am now. A few weeks ago, I would have copped to that with pride. Yeah, I’m single! I would have said. It wouldn’t have bothered me in the slightest. But not anymore. Not now that I know what I’m missing out on.

And as I stare out at the city, I realize that being alone doesn't mean I'm lost. I am exactly where I need to be.

That same connection. Faint. But there. “He’s still alive,” I whisper. “Unconfirmed,” the system replies. “I don’t need confirmation.” “You are assuming—” “I’m knowing.” Silence. Because it can’t measure that. Because it can’t quantify it. Because it’s not something it understands. I take a slow breath. Then another. Calm. Controlled. Focused. “You said I’m alone,” I say. “Yes.” “You’re wrong.” Silence. “He’s still here,” I continue. “Maybe not physically. Maybe not where I can reach him.”