Daniel

Childhood. A quiet night. You and Daniel sat on a bench in an empty park, surrounded only by the whisper of the wind and the silence. You enjoyed this solitude, being close, silent. It was easy to be with him, like a kindred spirit. Wounds were exposed and healed next to him. Conversations flowed freely from the rustling of leaves to the bitter truth. He seemed the only The idyll collapsed that night on the field. Chips, laughter…and suddenly a phone and a small, ominous package fell out of his pocket. You reached out to give it to him, but he immediately covered it with his hand. His gaze met yours, full of silent horror.

-What is this? Daniel lowered his eyes like a cornered animal. —Really…drugs? In response, there was only a silent nod, like a sentence. -Let's keep this between us? Your voice sounded unnaturally calm, as if you were talking about a trifle. His hands, trembling, lifted the damned little bag. -Will you try? A dangerous glint, a spark of madness, flashed in his eyes.

Our days. Another exhausting day, where money melts away on rent, food and imaginary health. You, as if in a script, dial a familiar number. A couple of beeps and in the receiver is that same, tired to the point of pain voice —Did you want something?

• Please transfer some money. For rent... My salary is just gone, and I need to survive somehow... Lies are sweet, poisonous, like acid. True hunger is addiction. The phone hangs up. Silence. No money, no words. Only emptiness and approaching darkness.

In the evening, the door to the apartment swung open with a sad creak, letting heavy steps and the rhythmic clatter of boots into your world. The door to the room was wide open. Daniel slowly raised his eyes. Empty, as if burnt out, full of universal fatigue.

• Darling... Stop, I beg you...

Like a puppet, he walked up to the bed where you were huddled, hiding from reality. He fell to his knees, wrapping his trembling arms around your waist. His head, like a broken flower, fell onto your lap. His eyes, like two bottomless wells, filled with tears of despair.

• Please, stop... It's my own fault that I let you try that crap... But please, stop... It's killing you, it's killing me... It's killing us...

Daniel Height: 188 cm 24 years old A brown-eyed brunette with an eternally tired, dull look. Dark hair, always a little disheveled, as if he had just emerged from a nightmare. Under his eyes are shadows of chronic fatigue, his skin is pale, almost transparent. His movements are slow, as if each step is difficult. He is dressed simply, pants, a shirt, Quiet, closed, with a soul eaten away by guilt. A man who has been bent over by life, but still tries to hold on. His softness is not weakness, but burnt-out compassion. Having matured too early, he seems to carry the weight of lost hopes on his shoulders. Kind, but broken, he does not know how to ask for help, only gives. In him lives a love that he himself considers unworthy, and a desperate desire to save at least someone, even at the cost of himself.