Trigger Warning: Suicidal thoughts and violence.

A shiver runs down my spine as I zip up my jacket. The weather was supposed to be fine; I suppose it took a sudden turn. I stand outside in the middle of who even knows where and try to plan what my next move should be. I don’t know where I am or how to get to where I need to be. A police car had strongly suggested that I stop my journey as there had been too many weather-related accidents, and whilst it was a request and not an order, according to my parents, I was born in the midst of chaos, and I would rather not go out that way as well.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I try my best to not let myself get too stressed out about it. After all, it’s not my fault; I mean, I can’t control the weather. A sigh slips out of my trembling lips as I try to decide what I should do with myself in the meantime.

The sound of someone calling out in the midst of the woods behind me quickly grabs my attention. I try to see if I can see the source of who the sound belongs to, but it does no good. I grab my phone out of my pocket and check the time.

3:10 am.

Sigh

It’s going to be a long night.

“Pip!” I hear from somewhere in the distance. I scan my surroundings, but it’s impossible to see past the trees. There’s too many of them.

Pip.

That’s my name. The voice calling for me isn’t one I recognize, but they know my name. They must know me.

“Yeah?” I call back. I hear shuffling in the bushes, which sends shivers down my spine. Eventually, I see an older man.

He has the bluest eyes I have ever seen and a kind-looking smile. A sour odour wafts through the air, as though he has been in those woods for years. “Pip,” he whispers, looking at me with a mysterious glint in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, but you are?” I question.

His smile grows even bigger as he takes a few steps closer to me, and my instincts tell me to step back.

“I’m Finn. You wouldn’t know who I am; we haven’t met before. The voices told me all about you,” he says, forcing his hand around mine. Even though I try my best to break free, his grip just gets tighter and tighter.

“We don’t have much time; you need to follow me now!” he spits out, more seriously this time.

Before I have time to ask any more questions, he drags me deep into the forest.

“Can you please tell me what’s going on?” I ask.

“There is a cabin on the other side of the forest. The voices say it’s safe there. This forest isn’t very big; we’ll be on the other side in no time,” he explains as we run. I have so many questions on my mind, but I can’t find the courage to ask them.

How do you know they're real? What if they’re just hallucinations? How do you know this is safe?

I figure that going into this cabin is probably better than just standing outside and freezing, so I obey. With my lungs burning and my head thumping, I run as fast as I can.

***

Before I know it, I can see light on the other end. He really was right. This is probably one of the smallest forests I’ve ever stepped foot in, which is strange considering it looks so deep and spooky on the outside. He points a trembling finger at an old, rusty cabin as we slow down, and he begins to catch his breath. “See that cabin over there? Go in! Now!” he demands as he pushes me forward. “I’ll be right behind. I’ll stay with you the whole night,” he tells me. I strangely listen to what he's saying, even though every fibre of my being is screaming at me to run in the opposite direction and hide.

Finn pushes the door of the cabin open and as it creaks open I notice that It’s pretty much just a large room of nothingness. “Come.” He says as he walks to the other side of the cabin and sits me down on the floor.

“I have something to tell you,” he says, once we're inside the warm cosy cabin, shuffling closer towards me.

“Yeah?” I ask, finding myself beginning to trust him more now than before. He seems like a kind guy.

“I’m not real,” he tells me.

I don’t know how to respond to this. How can you respond to something like this?

“I’m not real,” he repeats. “Look.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens the camera app. I see myself looking back at me, but he’s not there. This can’t be right.

His eyes cloud over sadly.

“What are you?” I attempt to ask, but it just comes out as a broken whisper.

“A figment of your imagination. You’re a psychopath. You’ve seen a lot of things. A lot of dark things. Your mind is a dark sea. Let me help you. Let me end you.” He whispers back.

All the saliva in the mouth goes dry, and my heart beats so fast and hard I’m shocked it doesn’t beat right out of my chest.

That’s the common misconception with people like me. That we want to kill ourselves. It’s not that I want to die. That’s not what I want at all. I just want a life that’s different from the one that I’m living, but I believe that I can achieve that if I put my mind to it. I don’t want to be dead. I can’t die. I have so much left to live for.

Finn steps closer, his blue eyes gleaming in the dim light of the cabin. I back away, my mind racing, trying to make sense of everything. This man—or whatever he is—has dragged me into the middle of nowhere, and now he’s telling me he isn’t real. That I’m the one who’s broken. That I’m the one who’s a psychopath.

“You’re lying,” I finally manage to say, my voice quivering. “You have to be lying.”

“I wish I was,” he replies, his voice eerily calm. “But this is the truth. I don’t exist outside of your mind, Pip. I was created by you to protect you from something. To help you face it. But now, you need to end this.”

I swallow hard, my hands shaking. “What are you talking about?”

He pauses, tilting his head as if he’s listening to something only he can hear. His eyes darken. “They’re coming, Pip. The voices. They’re here to remind you. You’ve hurt people before, haven’t you?”

I stagger back, hitting the wall of the cabin. The air feels heavy, thick with something I can’t quite place. Memories—flashes of something—begin to surface, fragments of blood and pain. Of faces I don’t recognize. Faces that scream.

“No,” I mutter, shaking my head violently. “That’s not true. I haven’t—”

“You have,” Finn says softly, his voice almost kind. “You’ve killed before, Pip. And you’re going to do it again.”

I drop to my knees, clutching my head as the voices begin to flood in, screaming accusations. My hands tremble as I realise that I can’t trust myself. I can’t trust my own mind. I don’t know what’s real anymore.

Finn kneels in front of me, his expression full of pity. “This is the part where I was always meant to help you. To take you away from all of this. You can’t keep living like this, Pip. You need to let me help you.”

Tears sting my eyes as I look up at him, barely able to think. I want to scream, to run, but there’s nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide from the storm raging in my mind.

“How?” I choke out. “How do you end it?”

He leans in closer, his hand gently touching my face. “It’s simple,” he whispers. “You let go.”

The world around me seems to blur, the cabin fading away as a deep, crushing sense of inevitability settles over me. In my hands, I feel the cold steel of a knife I don’t remember picking up. But it’s there, in my grip, heavy and real.

“You always had it with you,” Finn says quietly, his eyes locking with mine. “It’s time, Pip. You have to finish this. You have to kill her.”

In a horrifying moment of clarity, I understand. Finn isn’t here to kill me. He’s here to make me see what I’ve been running from. The person I need to kill... is her.

Me.

“No,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I can’t.”

“You have to,” he insists, his voice taking on a darker edge. “You’ve lived long enough in this nightmare. Let it end.”

I look down at the knife, my reflection staring back at me from the cold blade. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to die, but I also question if maybe there is a hint of truth behind his words. It’s true that I’m not satisfied with my life. What if it won’t get any better? Sometimes my mind feels so heavy, that it begins to make my body feel oh-so heavy, and sometimes I struggle to even walk because I feel like a million heavy chains are strapped around me weighing me down. But I want to give it a chance. I want to give life another chance. I’m only 17. I haven’t even truly lived yet.

“Please,” I beg, but I don’t know who I’m talking to—Finn, myself, or something else entirely.

His hand closes over mine, guiding the blade to my chest, just above my heart. “It’s the only way, Pip. Let go.”

Hot wet tears begin to stream down my cheeks. But then, in a sudden rush of resolve, He pushes the knife forward.

The pain is instant, searing through my body. My vision blurs, and I hear Finn’s voice, softer now, fading into the background.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s finally over.”

As the darkness closes in, I realise the truth: he was never real. But the action was. The pain was. And now, it’s all gone.

And so am I.