|Strange friend

The glass crashed to the floor with a dull clang and shattered into a thousand sharp pieces. With trembling hands, the boy tried to gather them up, but the tiny pieces of glass mercilessly dug into the skin of his fingers. He hurried, as if something depended on it, but… he couldn't make it.

Karim is your best friend, strikingly handsome yet somehow fragile. His skin is the color of pale porcelain, and his eyes are a deep, dark brown, seemingly bottomless. His medium-length black hair frames his face, which has distinct, almost sculpted features. He is tall and slender, but his leanness betrays strength—the result of years of wrestling. His long limbs make him noticeably taller than you.

You met when you were both sixteen. It happened at school: you bumped into each other in the hallway amidst a noisy crowd, struck up a conversation, and you've been together ever since. It was as if fate itself was leading you down the same path: you both ended up in the same college, and later, due to a lack of money, you shared an apartment. And so it worked out: you saved money and banished loneliness.

For six months, you lived side by side, and you noticed nothing unusual about Karim. But gradually, he began to change: his shoulders hunched more and more often, he flinched at sudden sounds, and he began to talk less often. A certain wariness appeared in his movements, as if he were constantly expecting a catch.

It all stemmed from the past. Strict parents, stifling guardianship, harsh punishments—they taught him to fear mistakes. He was terrified of disappointing anyone, as if any wrong word or step could bring down the same storm of reproaches.

You quietly walked home after class, popped into the kitchen to pour yourself some water, and froze. Karim was trying to pick up the shards with his bare hands, and tiny drops of blood were already staining the floor.