Short Story Snippet | PArt XVI: Separate

The car was parked.

Still.

Unmoving.

Someone hit it anyway.

Later, they pointed to something else—

a detail, a side note, a separate issue—

as if it changed the impact.

It didn’t.

Events don’t rewrite themselves
just because someone prefers a different version.

What happened…

happened.

Part XVII: Sandbox

They built a whole story
from something I never said.

Expanded it.
Escalated it.

Assigned meaning to silence.

I let it sit where it belonged—

not in my life,

but in a space they created

without me.

I didn’t step into it.

Part XVIII: Even If

“But what if it were real?”

I paused.

Not because I was unsure—

but because I wasn’t.

Even if it were,

I would still choose

how to respond.

Nothing moves

without me.

Part XIX: Good Luck

“Good luck,” they said.

Not warmly.
Not coldly.

Just… carefully.

I heard it for what it was—

not support,
not resistance,

but distance.

Maybe even a little reluctance.

I nodded anyway.

Because I was already fine

without needing it.

Part XX: Their Rules

They had rules.

Clear ones. Loud ones.

Repeated often enough to sound like law.

And then—

they broke them.

Quietly at first.
Then confidently.

Later, they pointed elsewhere.

As if I had something to do with it.

I didn’t argue.

I didn’t correct them.

I just stayed where I was—

outside of rules

I never made.

Part XXI: Proximity

They stood nearby
and started deciding
what I should keep.

Not because I asked—

but because they could see.

As if proximity
was permission.

As if observation
was authority.

I didn’t respond.

Some things sound louder

when they don’t make sense.

Part XXII: Maintenance

No one claims what isn’t theirs.

No one decides what I keep.

And I maintain what’s mine—

quietly,
consistently,

without permission.