VOID

Hey, I'm Jowar. Don't ask me where the name came from—I wish I knew! It does sound kind of cool, though, right? I guess you could say I'm at that "figuring out life" stage. It's like a video game—sometimes you're leveling up, other times you're just trying to avoid getting knocked out.

Growing up in my family has been kind of weird. My dad is always busy, like, super busy. He works all the time, and he never really talks to me in a way that feels... I don't know, like he's interested in me. I guess he loves me, though, because when I ask for something, he usually gets it for me. But still, I can't help feeling like he loves his work way more than he loves me.

My mom died when I was ten. She was around, but I never really felt like she was a "mom" mom, you know? She took care of me, but it always felt more like she was just doing it because she had to, not because she really wanted to. I just wanted someone to make me feel like I mattered, like they really cared about me. Sometimes,

At school, I’m kind of just okay. I’m not the best student, but I get by. I have a lot of friends, or at least people who call themselves my friends. But I don’t think they really like me for who I am. It’s more like they just want to be around me because my dad has money, or they think being my friend will get them somewhere in life. I don’t know, maybe they just like the connections they get from being with me.

It kind of sucks, though, because I want real friends, people who really care about me, not just what I can give them. But I also don’t want to be alone, so I just go along with it. We hang out, go to the mall, or grab food, but deep down, I know it’s not real. They don't ask me for money or anything; they just seem interested in the status or whatever. And I never say anything because what if that makes them leave? Then I'd be totally alone.

I wish I had someone I could talk to, someone who would really listen and care about what I have to say. I wish my dad would just take a break from work and see me for once, really see me. But I guess that's just how things are. I just keep going, hoping that maybe, someday, I'll find someone who really wants to be around me, not because of money or connections, but because they really like me for me.

I t's just another day, same as any other, but for some reason, my heart's racing. It’s like there's a storm inside me, and I can’t calm it down. I’m scared. What if I never find someone who really gets me, who really loves me? It’s like a shadow hanging over me, and I can’t shake it. And it won’t let me sleep.

I keep thinking, maybe I should do something, make some kind of change. But what? Everything feels so overwhelming, like I'm standing on the edge of something, and I don’t even know what's out there. I feel lost, like I'm just drifting, and I don't know where I'm supposed to go.

I wish I had someone to talk to, someone who wouldn’t judge me, who would just listen. I need someone who gets what I’m going through. Someone who’d let me just sit with them, maybe even hug them, just to feel like I'm not alone. Because right now, I really do feel like I am.

Last night was rough. I couldn't sleep, and I spent the whole night overthinking. Now it’s morning, and I feel even worse. My heart's still racing, and everything seems dull. I should be getting ready for school, but I just feel empty and sad, even though I can't figure out why. I don't even feel like eating breakfast or doing anything.

Usually, I try to stay on top of things at school. I take notes, answer questions, keep my energy up. But today, I can't even pretend. It feels like the weight of everything is too much. I just want someone to notice that I'm not okay, someone to ask me what's wrong, and really care about the answer.

When I get to school, a few people ask if I'm okay. Some of my friends, even one of my teachers. They say things like, "You don't seem like yourself today. Is everything alright?" But when I say I have a headache or that I'm just tired, they move on. I just want someone to see through my excuse and understand that I need them to stay and listen, maybe give me a hug. But they just go back to what they were doing.

By lunchtime, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get out of there, find a place where I could just be by myself and maybe cry a little bit. I went to the spot behind the gym where nobody usually goes, but when I got there, I saw this other kid. He was sitting on the ground, his knees pulled up to his chest, and he was crying. I almost left to find another spot, but something made me stay. I guess I felt like maybe he was going through the same thing I was.

I walked over to him, not sure what to say. I just asked, "Are you alright?" He looked up at me, his eyes all red and puffy. I don't know if I was imagining it, but he seemed a lot like me—like he was just having one of those days where nothing felt okay, even though there wasn't really a reason for it.

I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but I didn't want to pry. I just sat down next to him and waited for him to say something. It felt weird, but also kind of nice, like maybe I wasn't alone in feeling this way. Maybe he needed someone to just sit with him, and maybe I needed that, too.

When I saw his knee bleeding, I didn't hesitate; I sprinted to the nurse's office and grabbed the first aid kit. As I bandaged his leg, I could feel his eyes on me, but I kept my focus on my hands. Looking up felt too risky, like I’d see something I wasn't ready to confront. His gaze was intense, pulling me in, but I resisted. I wrapped the bandage, my fingers brushing his skin, feeling a warmth I hadn't expected. I finally stood, avoiding his eyes, my heart racing as if I had just confessed a secret.

As I was bandaging his leg, he stopped crying. We sat there for a bit, just quiet, but I felt like I needed to say something. I started rambling about how it's okay to have bad days, how it's okay to be a loser sometimes because winners always have more pressure, and how losing something doesn't mean it's over; it can just be the start of something new. He listened, but he didn't say a word. I just kept talking because the silence was worse. I started feeling like I was saying too much, and then I got all self-conscious. What am I doing? Why am I here, talking like this to someone I don't even know? It was so awkward.

Eventually, I stood up and was about to leave, but he grabbed my hand. He asked me if I knew who he was, and I honestly had no idea. I told him I didn't know him. He said I was kind of weird, and I just shrugged and said, "Yeah, I am." He smiled a bit, and I felt a little better. Then I asked him if he studied here because I've never seen him before. He said he did, but he haven’t either.

It felt strange, like we'd both been in this school for who knows how long, but we were just now meeting. I wanted to ask him more questions, but I didn't know where to start. So I just stood there, feeling like I was supposed to do something, say something, but nothing felt right. I didn't want to leave him alone, but I also didn't want to overstay my welcome. I was stuck, not sure if I should stay or go. It was like I knew something important was happening, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

I asked him if it was okay to sit beside him, and he nodded, so I sat down next to him. I was thinking about what to say, and for some reason, I went with, "Do you like anime?" He kind of tilted his head like he didn't quite get what I was asking, so I tried again. "Do you watch anime?" I asked. He shook his head, so I figured I'd tell him about one of my favourite series.

As I started telling the story, I wasn't sure if he was even listening. He just sat there, not saying anything, so I asked him, "Are you listening?" He nodded and said, "Yeah, keep talking." So I kept going, explaining the characters, the battles, all the epic moments that made me love the show.

By the end of my story, he looked at me and said, "I like that. I might watch it." I was kind of relieved, like maybe we finally found some common ground. Then I remembered I didn't even know his name. "What's your name?" I asked.

"Nikki," he said, a bit hesitantly. Then he looked at me like he wanted to ask my name but was too shy. So I just came out with it. "I'm Jowar," I said. We sat there for a while, not really knowing what to say next, but it didn't feel as awkward as before. It was like maybe we'd just figured out the start of something. Not sure what yet, but it felt kind of cool.

He smiled and said, "Nice name, it sounds so cool." When he smiled, I felt a wave of relief, like everything was suddenly lighter. There was something about the way his eyes crinkled that made my heart skip a beat. I realized I really liked his smile.

As soon as Nikki started speaking, I felt a wave of relief. Like, okay, he can talk, so we're not just sitting here in awkward silence. We stayed there for about five more minutes, just chatting about random stuff, when we heard someone coming. It was the janitor, and he asked what we were doing here. I had no clue what to say, but Nikki jumped in and told him he got injured during PT and I was his friend, taking care of him. Friend. He called me his friend, and it kind of felt good.

The janitor told us to go to the nurse's office because he needed to clean up, so I put my hand on Nikki's shoulder and we walked off. As we got a bit farther, he told me he was okay and wanted to go back to class. I nodded, like, "Sure, whatever you need." But as he walked away, I realized I had a bunch of questions. What class was he in? What was his phone number? I wanted to ask, but he just left, like he was some kind of ghost.

When I got back to my own class, I felt this weird mix of calm and confusion. I kept thinking about Nikki, not about why he was crying or what made him so sad, but when I might see him again. I questioned myself—why was I even thinking about that? Was it because he seemed to be in a worse place than me, and it made me feel better? Or was it because he called me his friend and I kind of liked that? Or was it something else, like maybe I just liked being around him?

Then I started to wonder if I was turning into a total weirdo. Why was I thinking so much about a guy I just met? What was happening to me today? I felt like I was losing my mind, and I kept asking myself, "What's going on with you, Jowar? Why are you acting so different?" It was like my brain was playing tricks on me, and I didn't know if I should be worried or just roll with it.

It had been two days since I last saw Nikki, and I was starting to feel a bit restless. My eyes were constantly scanning the hallways, the gym, and even the lunchroom, but there was no sign of him. I wasn't sure why I was so fixated on finding him, but every time I went outside the classroom, my eyes were searching. My friend Sam even noticed, asking me if I was looking for someone. I brushed him off, pretending it was nothing, but deep down, I knew I was looking for Nikki.

Finally, during lunch break on the second day, I saw him. He was sitting in the same spot where we'd met before, and when he saw me, he gave me this big, friendly smile. I couldn't help but smile back. This time, he was wearing glasses and a school uniform, and he looked like a total nerd—but in a good way. It made me chuckle, thinking how different he looked from the first time we met.

I said hi and sat down beside him. He asked if I come to this spot often, like he was trying to figure out if this was my regular lunch spot. I noticed he had a lunch box with him, and I must have been staring because he pushed it toward me. He said it was for me, explaining that his mom made it as a thank-you for helping him that day. I didn’t even hesitate; I just grabbed the box and opened it. It was filled with chocolates and cookies, and I didn’t hold back. I started eating like I hadn't eaten in days.

He just sat there, watching me devour the sweets, and I was too busy enjoying the food to care. When I finished, I noticed he was still staring at me. I asked why he was looking at me like that, and he just smiled. I started complimenting his mom's cooking, talking about how amazing the cookies and chocolates were, and he seemed pleased.

Lunch break was almost over, so we had to go back to class. I asked him which class he was in, and he said he was in the science department. Before we parted ways, he reached out and wiped some chocolate off my cheek. It was a small gesture, but it made me feel... I don't know, understood? Like he noticed the little things, which was cool because most people wouldn't even say anything. I thanked him, and he gave me another big smile before heading to his class. I told him I was in the arts department.

After that, it became a regular thing. We’d meet at that spot during lunch and talk about random stuff. I still didn't know a lot about him, but it felt good to have someone to talk to—a new friend. Even if I was still figuring out why I was so drawn to him.

Nikki and I had been hanging out for a week, and it was like we’d known each other forever—but at the same time, we knew almost nothing about each other. He knew my name and that I was in the arts department, but he didn’t know anything about my family or my background. It was refreshing, actually. He didn’t care who my dad was or what kind of family I came from. He just wanted to talk, and I liked that.

It felt good to have someone who didn't need all the details, who wasn't friends with me because of my parents or what they did. Nikki was just... Nikki. I don’t even remember when he became my best friend. I mean, we only met seven days ago, and I knew almost nothing about him. I didn’t know his family, his hobbies, or even if he had any other friends. Whenever we talked, it was about random stuff—anime, video games, or whatever was going on at school.

He never asked about my life, and I never asked about his. It was like we had this silent agreement: we’d just be there for each other without all the personal baggage. Sometimes I wondered if he even wanted to know more about me, or if he just needed someone to hang out with. But it didn't matter to me. We had a good thing going, and I didn't want to mess it up by asking too many questions.

It was kind of cool, though. We didn’t need to dig into our personal lives to get along. Maybe that was why we clicked so well. We both just needed a break from all the noise, from people who were always asking questions. We didn’t talk about family or feelings. We just talked about whatever was on our minds, and it was enough.

I knew Nikki didn't have any friends in his class. He used to have a group, but something happened, and they weren’t friends anymore. I felt bad for him, being alone like that. But I also felt good because it meant I was his only friend. It was like he was my exclusive buddy. It was weird, but I started to feel this possessiveness over him. He always smelled so good, too, like some kind of citrusy cologne. I had these strange feelings whenever I was around him. It had been a month since we met, and it felt like we'd been best friends forever.

One day, he came to lunch late because he was talking to a professor. He mentioned this professor a lot, and every time he did, it made me uncomfortable. I started to feel like this professor was closer to him than I was, like they had some secret bond or something. It bugged me, even though I knew it was dumb. We’d exchanged phone numbers by then, and I would text him all the time, just to check in. Sometimes, I'd be hanging out with my other friends, but they felt like fake friends compared to Nikki.

Even my dad noticed how happy I was. We were having dinner, and he asked me what was going on because I was all smiles lately. I told him I made a new friend, and he seemed cool with it. He said something like, "That's great, keep him by your side. Friends like that are hard to find." It felt good to hear him say that

.But then, the next day, Nikki didn’t show up at school. He didn't text me back, either. I started to worry, wondering if he was sick or something. I called him a couple of times, but he didn't answer. He was always quick to respond, so it felt weird that he was just. gone. I went to his class to check, but he wasn’t there, and nobody knew where he was. I was freaking out a bit, pacing back and forth, checking my phone every few minutes.

For two days, I didn’t hear anything from him. I was getting seriously anxious, thinking about all the worst-case scenarios. I couldn't focus on my classes, and even my friends noticed that I was distracted. I was texting him and calling him, but it was like he disappeared. I had this sinking feeling in my chest, like something bad had happened, and I had no way of knowing if he was okay.

I finally lost my patience. I knew where Nikki's mom worked—she had a job at a bakery—so I went there, hoping to find out what was going on. When I told her I was Nikki's friend, she looked surprised. Apparently, Nikki had told her he had no friends. I mentioned the lunch box with the chocolates, saying that I was the person who helped him that day. That's when she told me that Nikki had a small accident, broke his phone, and was taking some time to rest at home.

I decided to visit him, even though his mom was still at work. His house was almost as big as my place. It had this old-school charm, but it was still pretty cool. I hesitated for a second, then rang the doorbell. Nikki opened the door, and he looked shocked to see me there. I noticed he had some scars on his hand—like, not the kind you'd get from an accident, more like intentional cuts. It made me feel uneasy.

He invited me inside, and I followed him to the living room. I wanted to ask him so many questions, but I didn’t know where to start. We sat there in awkward silence for a few minutes, and I could tell he wanted to say something but didn't know how. Then he asked, "Why are you here? He stated crying I just hugged him. It felt like the right thing to do. He clung to me, and I could feel his body shaking as he cried.

His tears soaked through my shirt, and I just held him, letting him get it all out. I didn't say anything, just let him cry it out. His sobs turned into soft sniffles, and eventually, he calmed down. He got up to wash his face, then came back with a plate of his mom's cooking—some snacks I usually loved—but I didn't feel like eating them. I was too caught up in what just happened, too worried about what he might be going through.

We sat there, not really talking, just sharing the space. It felt heavy, but I knew I needed to be there for him. Even if he didn’t say much, I knew he needed a friend, and I was determined to be that friend, no matter what.

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