Until I Disappeared 소설 & 이야기

Help me arrange the move abroad. There was no one left here worth staying for. I left in a rush. I packed through the second half of the night and moved out before dawn. I did not even return to the company. … When Selena realized she could not reach me, she panicked. She borrowed other people's phones and called again and again. None of them worked. I disappeared from her life cleanly, like a gust of wind. All I left her were a few dreamlike years of memories and the engagement ring, placed neatly on the table.

Where are you? She shows me the phone, lip trembling. I take it from her, type: I’m safe. I’m happy. I’ll explain when I’m ready. Tell Mum I love her. Then I delete the app entirely. That night she straddles me on the couch, belly a small, perfect curve under my palms, and rides me slow while tears roll down her cheeks. “I’m disappearing,” she whispers. “Everyone I used to be is gone.” I grip her hips, thrust up gently. “You’re becoming everything. You’re becoming a mother. You’re becoming mine in ways they’ll never understand.”

Tears streamed endlessly, unstoppable. Our bedroom was filled with memories: photos Adrian had taken of me and portraits I’d sketched of him. Every single one now revealed itself as part of the elaborate trap he’d woven for me. What was there left to hold on to? Footsteps echoed outside. Panic surged. I fled into the bathroom, hands shaking as I unlocked my phone. I found a long-forgotten contact and typed a message. "I want to completely disappear from this world."

“You did.” “No—” “You just don’t remember it.” My head spun. “That doesn’t make any sense.” “It does,” they said calmly. “Just not to you.” My hands trembled slightly. “I need you to explain,” I said, stepping forward despite myself. “If you know something, then say it properly—don’t just stand there and—” “You made him disappear.” The repetition hit harder this time. More final. More grounded. “And now,” they added, their gaze locking onto mine with unsettling precision—

“Why didn’t you hate me?” He looks at me like the answer is obvious. “Because you weren’t trying to hurt me.” “Then what was I doing?” His voice lowers. “You were trying to disappear.” The words hit so precisely that I physically flinch. Disappear. That’s what it was. Not anger. Not betrayal. Erasure. “I wanted to be less,” I whisper. “You wanted the pain to be less.” My knees finally give out. But before I hit the floor— His arms catch me.

the Mastermind roars. “I already have,” I whisper. Because I see it now. Clear. Exposed. The core. Beating. Alive. I reach it— slam my hand into it— and everything stops. The world freezes. Silence falls. Deep. Endless. “You don’t understand what you’ve done,” the voice says quietly. “I do.” “You’ll erase yourself.” “I know.” “You’ll disappear.” “I know.” “You’ll never—” “I KNOW.” The word echoes. Final. Unbreakable.

Already becoming what it needed me to be. And as the system closed around me As everything went silent As I felt myself disappear I heard it. Not from the figure. Not from the system. But from somewhere deep inside. A voice. Faint. Familiar. And impossible.

Mom and Dad have been divorced for ten years. One day, I come across a discussion thread. "Are all children of divorce having it hard?" I join the discussion. "Not always. Personally, I'm living pretty decently. After my parents' divorce, my sister and I were separated—one of us went to live with our paternal grandparents, and the other with our maternal grandparents. "For the last ten years, my parents have visited me once a year. Although they usually only stay for a few days, I can tell that they still love me." Within a minute, someone replies to my comment. "Girl, are you sure? My parents are divorced as well, but they can't bear to leave me at all. I've been with them since I wa

I’d been through seven foster homes. Before each one sent me away, they stopped answering my questions, stopped looking at me, and let the house grow silent. I couldn’t stand that kind of silence. So I became someone who talked too much. When my biological mother finally brought me into the powerful Moretti family at seventeen, I tried even harder to make people like me. Within one day, I knew the guards’ birthdays, the school nurse’s favorite podcast, and where my classmates kept their emergency medication. My stepsister Bianca called it manipulation. My stepbrother Luca called it an addiction to attention. To cure me, he ordered my entire school and family not to speak to me for seventy-tw

The system stayed quiet for a long time. [Okay.] Morning light slowly spilled across the bed. Gloria held me and stirred awake. "Mason, I had the most beautiful dream. We walked hand in hand until our hair turned gray. Mason, you'll stay with me forever, right?" No answer. "Mason?" She turned and kissed my cheek. Then she froze. Two tears slid down her face. "Mason..." *** After I got to the new world, the system disappeared. I lived like everyone else. A normal nine-to-five life.