Page 4 of Sypher

He sighed and then released me.

From the beginning of our friendship, I felt a strange, foreign magnetism for my best friend. An intangible quality that both intrigued and evaded me yet kept me drawn to him. The sensation was so strange, so otherworldly, that I could never find the right words to articulate it.

His easy smile and quick wit made it clear to me that I liked Dante. Where I was quiet and introspective, he was boisterous and a natural leader. He was everything I wasn’t. While I felt weak, his demeanor radiated confidence. We just clicked; it was an instant connection like we’d known each other forever.

I knew he despised the girls I was involved with. The way he clenched his jaw whenever their names came up told me everything. He always found fault, yet despite his disapproval, he never stopped me from indulging in my baser needs.

Even when I was with girls, I found it hard to connect with them and always put distance between us because I used them for one purpose only. Still, a persistent ache lingered, a sense of incompleteness that followed me like a shadow. A sense of wrongness, a discordant note in the otherwise harmonious symphony of the day. I only knew that whenever I was with Dante, life improved drastically. It was as if his mere existence provided a much-needed sense of order and clarity amidst the turmoil of my own existence.

“Stay.”

“I can’t,” he said, walking toward the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he stopped, never looking back at me, and added, “I know you better than you know yourself, Danny. I’ve always known. You won’t find what you’re looking for here. When you’re ready, come find me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Shaking his head, he said nothing more, just simply walked out of my life.

“You need to get your ass here, fast,” I vaguely heard someone say as I covered my ears. It was all too much. I couldn’t stop it. “He’s losing it, man. I don’t know how to help him.”

Over the course of days, weeks, and months, a profound and unsettling darkness gradually took hold of my innermost being, its tendrils wrapping around my heart and mind. School had lost all meaning and relevance to me. I felt completely detached andapathetic towards my education. I increasingly avoided friends, and my friendships became strained and ultimately irritating.

But it was the women.

The scores of women, even prostitutes I used to fulfill a deep-seated desire with no intention of forming lasting connections. And when that failed, I plunged further into the oppressive, suffocating darkness, craving a more profound experience. I craved anything that would make me feel genuine, vibrant, and significant. A person who mattered in this world.

I couldn’t pinpoint the reason for the change, but it felt deeply connected to the lingering effects of my parents’ death—a subtle ache even after the depression lifted. But what worried me most was the anger—a burning, furious rage that seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. The palpable vitriol was a suffocating presence, heavy and oppressive, squeezing the air from my lungs. At no point in my life, not even once, had I ever experienced such an overwhelming, all-consuming rage. A feeling so powerful that it felt like it was constricting my ability to breathe and threatening to extinguish the very spark of life within me.

Sitting in the dark expanse of my room, I gripped my head while I rocked myself back and forth. I couldn’t get my head to shut off. Nothing worked—not my computers, not music, nothing. I couldn’t focus. I was losing what little sanity I had left.

The voices inside my head—a cacophony of condemnation—laughed at me as I shook my head and cried out in despair, feeling like I was drowning in their taunts. The truth about me was etched on their faces, their eyes cold and unforgiving. They mocked me. Belittled me. But none more so than my dad. His was the face I saw the most.

“Danny.” His voice, a beacon in the darkness, guided me back to sanity. “Take a deep breath. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Without thinking, I grabbed onto him, wrapping my arms around him. I don’t know how long I lay there, holding him, but time no longer mattered. All I cared about was that he made the faces disappear.

“What am I going to do with you?” His soothing voice washed over me while he lightly stroked my hair away from my face and the voices slowly faded.

He remained beside me for the next two weeks, his watchful presence a comfort as I slowly regained my strength, never leaving until I could stand on my own.

I knew he wouldn’t stay. He couldn’t. But the sting remained as I turned and saw him stoop to tie his shoes, the silence amplifying the ache in my chest. A dull thud echoed the slow rhythm of his movements. Slowly rising, he reached for his jacket and put it on.

“You’re leaving?”

“It’s time.”

“Please stay.”

“I can’t.”

Chapter Three

Sypher

October 21, 2022, sophomore year, fall semester,

“Danny, move your ass,” my brother Ace shouted from the other side of the door. “We’re going to be late!”

Ace Leroy Franks. The oldest of the Franks brothers and the one whose gruff demeanor and booming voice always seemed to clash with mine. My big brother was my hero, yet I always felt a sense of disconnect, a lack of genuine understanding between us.

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