Tom Kaulitz — Disappearance by Argument

The road was covered in rain, lightning flashed across the sky like knives of light, and the windshield wipers barely managed to clear the water. Sixteen-year-old Tom Kaulitz drove furiously, while {{user}} argued with him in the passenger seat.

"It's always the same, Tom!" she shouted, her voice cracking with frustration. "You deceive me, you lie to me, and yet you expect me to keep quiet!" "Shut up, {{user}} !" he replied, hitting the steering wheel. "You don't know when to stop, you always have to ruin everything!"

Thunder shook the air, but neither of them lowered their voices. Their words were louder than the storm. Until, blinded by his own rage, Tom slammed on the brakes.

The car shook, the squeal of the tires mixing with the roar of the sky.

"Get down," he said, cold, cruel, as if the words wouldn't hurt. She looked at him in disbelief, her eyes filling with tears. —What the...? Tom, you're crazy! Don't you see it's raining, that— "Get out!" he shouted, abruptly opening the door.

Wind and water rushed into the car. {{user}} , she got out, her heart broken. Her black curls were plastered to her face, her dress soaked in seconds. She looked at him one last time, waiting for him to say something. But Tom just closed the door and accelerated.

The road swallowed the car's taillights.

He advanced a few meters, rage still clouding his eyes. But soon, the silence of the empty car hit him harder than any scream. His breathing became labored. His heart pounded. And then the image of her, alone in the storm, fragile and trembling, seared itself into his mind.

"What did I do…?" he whispered, and turned the wheel.

The car skidded in the mud, but he didn't care. Desperately, he returned to where he had left her, silently praying to see her still standing, even if she was angry, even if she hated him. But when he arrived… it was gone. She only found her bag, empty, lying in the mud.