I Got Isekai'd to Another Planet

The light from her phone lit up her face in the darkness.

June sat cross-legged on her bed, knees pulled close, the covers pushed back and crumpled behind her. She hadn't moved much since cutting up the dress earlier that day. The pieces were gone, the trash taken out, the mirror ignored.

But something had stayed inside her. Something hot and bitter and sharp like rusted metal scraping the inside of her ribs.

And now, the night felt like it was closing in. Like the walls were folding tighter, and the air was turning thick and sour. She couldn't scream, there was no one to hear her. She couldn't cry, she'd done enough of that to last a lifetime. She just… needed to say something.

Even if no one would ever hear it.

Her phone was already in her hand. She opened the camera. Switched it to video. Her thumb hovered over the record button.

She hesitated.

Then pressed it.

The screen blinked. The red circle turned solid.

And there she was: her own face, staring back at her from the tiny lens. Backlit by the glow of the screen. Pale. Hollow-eyed. Hair a tangled mess. Her hoodie hung off one shoulder like it didn't quite want to stay on.

She said nothing for the first few seconds. Just stared.

Then...

"Okay."

She blinked. Looked away. Then back.

"I don't know why I'm doing this. No one's gonna see it. It's not for anyone."

Her voice sounded strange. Not weak, exactly. But tired. Worn down. Like something that had been running for too long and finally hit empty.

She licked her lips. Tried again.

"You know how everyone keeps saying it gets better? That one day, you'll be happy? That all the pain's just a 'phase'?" She made air quotes with her fingers. "Yeah. That's a lie. They're lying. Or maybe they mean it, but it's not true for everyone."

Her tone sharpened. Her shoulders tensed.

"You ever look at people and wonder how they do it? Like, how do you function? How do you wake up and not feel like you're already behind, already failing, already choking on the fact that you're alive?"

She laughed bitterly. Not the kind of laugh that came with joy. The kind that broke something.

"People smile. People talk about their weekend plans. People buy smoothies and take gym selfies and say things like 'self-love' and 'manifest it.' And I'm just here. Trying to decide whether brushing my teeth today is worth the effort."

She paused. Looked off-screen.

Her voice dropped, barely a whisper.

"I don't think I was built for this. Life. People. Existence."

A long silence followed.

Then she straightened a little, as if she remembered the camera again.

"You know what's funny?" Her voice was suddenly sharper. Edged with something like venom. "If I was making a goodbye video, people would care. Suddenly. They'd say, 'We didn't know.' They'd post stories about mental health. Say they wish they'd reached out."

Her eyes flared.

"But where were you? When I sat by myself at lunch every day? When I was left on read? When I sent a message and stared at the 'seen' mark until it faded into silence?"

She leaned in closer to the camera. The shadows under her eyes deepened.

"You were busy. That's what you'll say. Or you didn't realize. Or I should've spoken up." Her lip curled. "But every time I did speak, no one listened. Or worse, they changed the subject. Turned it into a joke. Made me feel like the problem."

She shifted the phone, holding it a little lower. Now the shot caught more of her room, blank walls, scattered laundry, a cracked mug on the desk.

"You know what's even worse than being hurt?" she said quietly. "Being forgotten."

She swallowed.

"People talk about bullying like it's always obvious. But it's not. Sometimes it's silence. Sometimes it's the way people look past you like you're not there. Sometimes it's how they never say your name. Like you're not worth remembering."

Her voice caught there.

A hitch. Not quite a sob, not quite a breath.

She took a second. Blinked fast.

Then whispered, "I started believing them."

Another pause. This one longer.

She stared into the screen again. The dim glow flickered in her eyes like tired stars.

"I'm not making this video so anyone understands. I know no one will. I'm just... tired. And I wanted to say it. Somewhere."

Her thumb hovered over the screen.

She could end it there.

But something kept her going.

"I don't want to die," she said suddenly, the words escaping like steam from a broken pipe. "That's the part no one gets. It's not about wanting to die. It's about not knowing how to keep living. There's a difference."

Her voice trembled. She pushed her hair behind her ear. Her hand was shaking.

"I'm not sad all the time," she added, softer. "Sometimes I laugh. I have days that feel almost normal. But it always comes back. The emptiness. The noise in my head. The feeling like I'm outside the world, looking in."

She looked down.

"I tried so hard to be normal. I wore the clothes. Smiled when I was supposed to. Laughed at things that weren't funny. But it always felt fake. Like I was mimicking what I thought being human looked like."

She lifted her head again, eyes glassy.

"And you know what? Nobody noticed. Because nobody cares if you're pretending, as long as you make it easy for them."

Silence again.

June wiped her face with her sleeve. It was damp.

She looked at the screen one more time.

Then her thumb hovered over the "stop" button.

She stared at the glowing red dot.

And then, instead of hitting stop...

She hit delete.

A prompt flashed... "Are you sure?"

She didn't hesitate.

Yes.

Gone.

The screen went black.

She was left in silence again.

Then, without warning, she laughed.

Not hard. Not loud.

Just a soft, bitter chuckle that escaped her chest like smoke from a dying fire.

She shook her head.

"That wasn't for anyone anyway."

She didn't try to record another.

She didn't write a post. Didn't send a message. Didn't even open her chats.

She lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

It was cracked in one corner. She traced the shape with her eyes, like a jagged vein running through plaster skin.

That's what she felt like. A fracture no one saw.

She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes.

No tears came.

There were none left.

Just a numbness in her limbs and a quiet ringing in her ears that never quite went away.

Her phone buzzed once on the pillow beside her.

A notification.

She didn't check it.

Probably spam. Or some influencer telling her to buy something to "change her life."

She didn't care.

Because nothing would change.

Nothing ever did.

Not for people like her.

Not for the ones left out of the story.

The ones who didn't get to be the hero. Or the love interest. Or even the villain.

Just the background noise.

And background noise doesn't get a happy ending.