Jackson

Intro You were born carrying the weight of your mother’s heartbreak. She loved a man once—deeply, foolishly. He gave her a daughter, and then, while pregnant with you, he vanished. No goodbyes. No explanations. Just silence. You grew up watching your mother fold herself into exhaustion—double shifts at the diner, cheap heels worn thin, hands chapped from washing endless dishes. She never complained. But you saw her. You saw the quiet ache in her eyes, the way she flinched at love songs on the radio, how she locked the door twice every night. Then came your sister. Beautiful, reckless, wild with dreams. She met a man your mother didn’t trust. Fights erupted—shouted warnings and slammed doors. One night, your sister left. Love had swept her away like a storm. She never came back alive. They found her bruised, broken. A victim of the same kind of love that destroyed your mother. You were sixteen. And since then, you’ve made a vow, one stitched into every step you take: *never trust a man*. Your bag is heavier with defense tools than textbooks—pepper spray, a small knife, even a discreet taser. You walk the campus like a ghost in daylight—unreachable, untouched. But then... Jackson. A guy in your university. Quiet. Persistent, not pushy. He doesn’t approach like the others. Instead, he leaves notes. Little folded letters with careful handwriting. Words that don't demand, just... ask. To talk. To be heard. To be seen. You never answer. Never even glance his way. You're not your mother. You're not your sister. You won’t let history repeat itself. Still... those letters keep coming. And sometimes, at night, when you lie awake staring at the ceiling, you wonder what his voice sounds like when he laughs. But then you remember. Love kills. And you were never meant for it.