"Not all ghosts are dead.
Some just have your number."
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The day started soft.
Sunlight pooled in her bedroom like spilled gold. The café downstairs was playing some acoustic cover that made her feel like the world was slower, quieter, safer.
Aira had even smiled in the mirror.
The kind of small, shy smile that said: Maybe I'm getting better. Maybe today won't hurt.
She met Mae for brunch.
Ray joined them later, sipping iced tea and making dry jokes about capitalism and cafeteria coffee. It made Mae snort. It made Aira laugh—really laugh.
It was a good day.
The kind that feels like a crack of light after weeks of dark.
Until her phone buzzed.
[ Unknown Number: ]
Hey. It's been a while.
This is Mira.
I saw one of your posts. I'm glad you're still around.
I hope you're okay.
The world tilted.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The air felt too thick. Her skin too tight.
Mira.
Mira. Again!
She hadn't heard that name in over a month now. Had deleted it. Buried it. Tried to convince herself it wasn't as bad as it felt. That she was just too sensitive.
But now her body was remembering what her mind tried to forget.
The late-night voice notes that made her feel guilty for sleeping.
The way Mira would say, "You're the only one I trust," and then punish her for not always being available.
The time Mira said, "You're so lucky to have me. You'd be alone without me."
And the worst part?
It keep repeting in her head. Won't leave. Never!
The café sounds faded around her.
Mae was talking about something—maybe a professor. Maybe an assignment.
But Aira couldn't hear it anymore. Her hands trembled under the table.
Ray noticed first.
He leaned slightly closer. "Hey. You okay?"
She nodded.
Lied.
Excused herself. Said she had to go.
Back in her room, she curled into the corner of her bed, phone still in her hand.
The message glowed like a curse.
She didn't know what hurt more—the fact Mira had reached out after everything, or the fact that a part of her still wanted to reply.
Still wanted to be the "good" friend.
Still wanted closure from someone who never gave her any peace.
She opened her journal. Words spilled out like panic.
"Why does hearing from her make me feel like I'm 17 again and suffocating in silence?
Why do I still want to prove I'm not the bad one?"
Her tears came fast and heavy.
She hated this. Hated that one sentence could pull her back into a version of herself she had worked so hard to leave behind.
Later, Ray texted her.
[ RAY: ]
u ghosted us lol
did we smell bad?
or was it the pancakes
It made her laugh—just a little.
Then came a second message.
[ RAY: ]
also if u need to not talk abt it, that's fine
if u need to talk abt it, that's also fine
either way, don't disappear again
Aira stared at it for a long time.
Not sure if she was more comforted by his presence or terrified by how much she'd begun to need it.
That night, she didn't reply to Mira.
She didn't block her either.
She just turned off her phone.
Not because she was strong. Not because she was over it.
But because sometimes, choosing not to bleed again is the bravest thing you can do.
"Closure doesn't always come with conversation.
Sometimes it's just you…
Deciding not to answer the door
When the past comes knocking."