I pulled off my VR headset and blinked, adjusting back to the soft lighting of my room. The posters, shelves lined with books and games, the gentle glow from my desk lamp... all so familiar. Yet everything felt slightly different—like I had changed, even though the world around me hadn't.
"That was... incredible," I murmured to myself, still catching my breath.
My eyes drifted to the bed—there he was. Whiskers. Curled up, breathing steadily, his tiny chest rising and falling. Peaceful. Like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't just helped me defeat a monster born from my fears.
Yeah, Whiskers wasn't just a cat.
He was family.
I walked over and ran a hand down his soft fur. His eyes opened, slow and calm, and he looked up at me like he understood everything. He nuzzled my palm, purring, like always.
"Thanks for being there, buddy," I whispered. "You're the best."
I scooped him up, holding him close. He let out a soft meow and licked my cheek.
I gently placed him back on the bed, then grabbed my phone. I wanted to message the guys—see how their playthroughs went, what choices they made, how they felt facing Alkom. Maybe check the forums, read through what other players thought of the ending.
Then—"Did you have fun?"
I jumped.
"Dad!" I turned to see him grinning in the doorway. "Seriously? Can you not sneak up on me like that when I'm mid-scroll?"
He laughed, unapologetic. "Sorry, couldn't help it. So? How was it?"
I dropped the sarcasm and let a real smile stretch across my face. "It was amazing. Like... beyond anything I've played before. I was in that world. It felt real. Every challenge, every emotion. It was the best gift ever. Thank you, Dad."
He stepped into the room and nodded, pride shining in his eyes. "I'm glad, son. VR's come a long way. It can create magic. But don't forget—real life's still got plenty of magic too."
I nodded, that truth settling deep. He wasn't wrong. No game, no matter how immersive, could replace the people and experiences around me.
"I know," I said. "I won't forget."
"Good," he said. "Because tomorrow's your first day of third year. New school."
Boom. Mood ruined.
"Are you seriously my dad?" I asked, deadpan.
"Of course I'm your dad. Why?"
"Then how'd you forget I hate school?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Alex, you can't stay in here forever. I've been thinking about it a lot. If you keep hiding behind screens, you'll miss out on the life waiting for you."
I looked away, jaw tightening. He didn't get it. Not really. Sure, he knew I'd had a rough time. But he didn't know what it felt like to be the constant punchline. To walk into school and feel invisible—or worse, like a target.
"I have friends," I lied. "And I like games. They make me feel... something good. They help me forget."
He sat beside me on the bed and put a hand on my shoulder. His voice softened.
"Alex, I know gaming makes you happy. And I'm glad it gives you that escape. But it's not everything. Life isn't meant to be escaped from. It's meant to be lived. People, moments, even the tough stuff—they shape you."
He paused, his eyes kind, but clear.
"You know why I got you that VR set?"
I shrugged. "Because you love me?"
His smile returned. "Yeah. That's part of it."
He took a deep breath. "But more than that... I wanted to show you that whether it's virtual or real, you're capable of so much. I wanted you to feel it. You faced your fears in that game. You fought through something terrifying—and won. You can do that here, too."
Something in his words cracked through the wall I didn't even know I was still holding up.
"I'm scared," I admitted quietly.
"I know," he said, gently rubbing my back. "But you don't have to do it all at once. Just one step at a time. I'll be right here."
My chest tightened. Not from anxiety. From something else. Hope, maybe.
"But what if I mess up?" I whispered.
He looked me straight in the eye. "Then you mess up. And you learn. And you try again. That's how you grow. You don't have to be perfect, Alex. You just have to try."
His words settled over me like a warm blanket.
"Okay," I said, voice steadier now. "I'll try. I'll face it."
"That's my boy." He stood, smiled, and left the room, leaving his love behind like a lingering echo.
I looked down at Whiskers, who blinked up at me knowingly.
"I'll do my best," I said, patting his head. "No more hiding. Let's see what's out there."
He meowed softly, as if to say finally.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The next morning, I woke up to sunlight pouring through the window. My heart was pounding, part nerves, part excitement. Today was the first day of my third year—and I was starting fresh. A new school. A new chance.
I pulled on my uniform, grabbed my bag, and headed downstairs.
Whiskers was already waiting at the bottom, tail swishing, eyes alert like he had somewhere important to be too.
"Morning, buddy," I said, petting him. "Wish me luck?"
He purred and rubbed against my leg.
In the kitchen, Dad greeted me with a smile and a plate of pancakes.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
I gave a small grin. "Nervous... but excited."
"That's a good mix," he said, handing me a fork. "And remember, no matter what happens, you've got this. You're smart, kind, and way stronger than you think."
I didn't say much, just nodded and dug into breakfast. But his words stayed with me.
Later, as we pulled up to Westwood High, I stared out the window at the building. It was sleek, modern... intimidating. Dozens of students were already outside, chatting, laughing, like they belonged.
Dad turned off the car and looked at me.