Disorder

Once, John was a man defined by order — a devoted father and loyal husband living by the rhythm of routine. But order can fracture, and on the night he returned home, something dark followed. His eyes were hollow, his hands no longer his own. Now, only the family portrait remains — smiling faces frozen in time, shadows stretching behind them. The house stands silent, its walls holding what John will never speak. Whatever happened that night is buried deep within him, where reason once lived.