Rain lashed against the windows of Leo's cramped apartment, mirroring the turmoil inside him. Sleep offered no escape. Every night, the same nightmare: a suffocating blanket of fire, each tendril of flame wrapping tighter around him. He woke up drenched in sweat, his body already rebelling against the coming day. He ran a hand through his matted hair, the simple act sending jolts of pain through his nerves.
He avoided mirrors, refusing to see the gaunt face and haunted eyes that stared back at him. His isolation had become a fortress, a shield against the world’s pitying glances. His doctor, a well-meaning but clueless man, had diagnosed him with something he struggled to remember: a bizarre, little-known condition, related to his nervous system.
A notification popped up on his phone: a support group meeting for people with his condition. He almost deleted it, then stared at the screen, a primal urge warring with his crippling fear. He needed to know that he wasn’t alone.
The meeting was held in a church basement, and it felt very alien to him. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. A woman with a strained smile introduced herself. He saw a flash of understanding in her eyes and felt a glimmer of hope that quickly died.