Clay Jensen sat in the dim light of his bedroom, the weight of the world pressing down on him like an invisible force. He hadn't slept in days, the exhaustion clinging to him in a way that felt almost suffocating. The memories—so many memories—played in his mind on a loop. The faces of people he had lost, the moments he couldn't change, the pain he couldn't forget.
The lyrics from Taylor Swift's "epiphany" drifted through his mind, a haunting melody that matched the heaviness in his heart: "Some things you just can't speak about..." That was how it felt for Clay—like there were so many things locked inside him that he couldn't bring himself to talk about, no matter how hard he tried. Everything he had been through, everything he had seen... there were no words for it.
He glanced at the pile of textbooks on his desk, the papers and assignments he hadn't even begun to touch. Senior year was supposed to be easier. It was supposed to be about moving forward, about healing from everything that had happened at Liberty High. But instead, it felt like the past was always pulling him back, refusing to let him go.
His phone buzzed on his nightstand, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was a message from Tony Padilla, his best friend, and the person who had been there for him through all of it.
Tony: Hey, man. Haven't heard from you in a few days. You okay?
Clay sighed, staring at the screen. He didn't know how to respond. Tony had always been there, always checking in, but sometimes Clay didn't have the energy to pretend he was okay. Not anymore.
Clay: I'm fine. Just tired.
It was a lie, but it was the easiest way to keep people from worrying. And Clay was tired—so tired. But it wasn't just the physical exhaustion. It was the emotional drain of carrying the weight of so many secrets, so many traumas.
Moments later, Tony responded.
Tony: You want to grab coffee later?
Clay hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He knew he should say yes, that it would be good for him to get out, to be around someone who understood. But the thought of facing Tony right now, of pretending to be okay when he wasn't, felt impossible.
Clay: Not tonight. I just need some time.
He set the phone down, guilt gnawing at him. He knew Tony was worried about him, just like his parents were, just like his friends were. But sometimes, Clay felt like he was drowning in a sea of his own thoughts, and no one could reach him, no matter how hard they tried.
The next morning, Clay found himself sitting in the school parking lot, staring at the entrance to Liberty High. He was supposed to go to class, supposed to be focused on finishing the year strong. But as he sat there, his mind was elsewhere—back in the hallways of the past, back to the days when everything had fallen apart.
The faces of Hannah, Justin, and Bryce flashed in his mind, their stories woven into his in ways that he could never untangle. He had tried so hard to make sense of it all, to find closure, but it never seemed to come.
As he got out of the car and walked toward the building, he spotted Jessica Davis near the front steps, talking with a few other students. She caught his eye and gave him a small wave, her expression a mixture of concern and understanding.
"Hey, Clay," Jessica called out as he approached. "You good?"
Clay forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Jessica frowned, clearly not convinced. "You sure? You've been kind of... distant lately."
"I'm just tired," Clay muttered, glancing away. "A lot on my mind."
Jessica nodded slowly, her voice softening. "I get it. But you don't have to do this alone, you know? We're all here for you."
Clay swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to respond. He knew she was trying to help, but the idea of opening up, of talking about everything that had been weighing on him, felt impossible.
"I appreciate it," Clay said finally, his voice barely audible.
Jessica gave him a long, searching look before nodding. "Okay. Just... don't disappear on us, okay? We need you."
Clay nodded, though he wasn't sure if he really believed her. He felt like he had already disappeared, like the Clay Jensen everyone used to know was long gone, buried beneath the trauma and grief that had consumed him.
Later that day, Clay sat alone in the cafeteria, picking at his lunch but not really eating. The noise of the students around him faded into the background as his thoughts spiraled. He could feel himself slipping—slipping back into the darkness that had haunted him for so long. And no matter how hard he tried to push it away, it always seemed to come back.
As he sat there, lost in his thoughts, Justin Foley's empty chair at the table caught his eye. Even though Justin had been gone for months, Clay still expected to see him sitting there, cracking jokes and making sarcastic comments. The absence of his best friend was a constant reminder of everything Clay had lost.
The lyrics from "epiphany" played in his mind once again: "With you, I serve, with you, I fall down, down..." He and Justin had been through so much together, had fought side by side through the chaos of Liberty High. But in the end, Clay hadn't been able to save him.
"Clay?"
Clay looked up, startled to see Ani Achola standing in front of him, her expression concerned.
"You okay?" Ani asked, sitting down across from him without waiting for an invitation.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Clay said automatically, though he knew she wouldn't believe him.
Ani studied him for a moment, her eyes sharp and knowing. "You've been saying that a lot lately. But you don't seem fine."
Clay sighed, rubbing his temples. "I don't know, Ani. I just... I don't know how to deal with all of this. Everything we went through—everything I saw—it's still there, all the time. And I don't know how to make it stop."
Ani's expression softened, and she reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "You don't have to figure it all out on your own, Clay. You've been carrying so much for so long. It's okay to let people in."
Clay swallowed, his throat tight. "I don't even know where to start."
Ani gave him a small, sad smile. "Start with today. Start with just talking to someone. Whether it's me, Tony, or a therapist—just talk."
Clay didn't respond right away, the weight of her words settling over him. He knew Ani was right. He had been trying to carry everything on his own for so long, and it was breaking him. But the thought of opening up, of letting people see how much he was struggling, felt terrifying.
"I'll try," Clay said quietly, though he wasn't sure if he believed it.
Ani squeezed his arm gently before standing up. "That's all you can do, Clay. Just try."
That night, Clay sat in his room, staring at the ceiling as the darkness pressed in around him. The memories of the past felt suffocating, like they were closing in on him, threatening to overwhelm him. He could hear Hannah's voice in his mind, see Justin's face, feel the weight of everything he had lost.
He didn't know how to keep going like this.
The lyrics from "epiphany" echoed in his mind once more: "Something med school did not cover, someone's daughter, someone's mother..." He thought about everything he had seen, everything he had experienced that no one had prepared him for. The violence, the death, the trauma—it had all become a part of him, and he didn't know how to let it go.
But Ani's words lingered in his mind too: "Just try."
With a deep breath, Clay picked up his phone and typed out a message to Tony.
Clay: Hey. Can we talk?
It was a small step, but it was a step. And maybe, just maybe, it was enough to start pulling him out of the darkness. Because as much as Clay felt like he was drowning, he wasn't ready to give up. Not yet.
He just needed to keep trying.
