Chapter 1

Ever since I was a little kid, people around me have been repeating that I am the spitting image of my father's brother. It was never said maliciously, just casual remarks dropped into everyday conversations: "You have his exact mannerisms," "It's crazy, when you made that face, you looked just like him," "You talk just like him."

For a long time, I never questioned any of it. To me, he was simply an unknown uncle, just a vague shadow. That was until the day I finally asked who he really was. That is when they told me he had died young. That he had hanged himself.

But what really started to make me uncomfortable was realizing that there is not a single photo of him anywhere. I asked my father, I searched through old photo albums, I even asked my grandmother. Nothing. His own mother did not have even a single snapshot left to show me. It is unsettling knowing that everyone is constantly comparing you to a face that no one can actually show you. It feels like I have been wearing the features of a ghost my whole life.

As I grew up, that resemblance began to weigh on me differently. I have my own dark moments, too, with heavy depression, phases where my mind loops endlessly, and times when everything feels too heavy to bear. And when you know that the man you are supposed to resemble ended up at the end of a rope, an insidious question takes root despite yourself: is it carried in the blood? Does this fate repeat itself?

And then I finally learned the exact age he was when he died: thirty-one years old.

Today, I am twenty-seven years old. That leaves me with exactly four years.

At first, I tried to convince myself that it was just a stupid coincidence, a meaningless number. But over the past few months, it has turned into a total obsession. I get this cold, clammy chill, along with an unpleasant feeling of being trapped on train tracks that were laid down long ago.

Now, I overanalyze absolutely everything. At the slightest drop in mood, the smallest rough patch, I ask myself: is this just a normal bad period, or is it the start of something much darker? I have become completely incapable of sorting through things in my own head.

The worst part is this complete blur about what lies ahead. I do not know if I am just building all this up in my head, or if I am genuinely sliding toward the exact same end. What happens in four years? Am I the one who will end up cracking and making that decision?

It is that agonizing doubt that scares me most. I truly do not know. I cannot even project myself two or three years into the future. I am just stuck here, watching the heavy countdown slowly run down, without the slightest idea of what is going to happen to me.