The key is cold. It has always been cold.

I hold it in my palm, the brass biting into the skin. It is small, no larger than a thumbnail, but it feels heavy. It feels like a stone pulled from the bottom of a river. I have carried it for three years. Since the day I left the house on Elm Street, the one with the peeling white paint and the garden that grew too fast in the spring.

My name is Elias. I am here. I am in the city.

The city does not care about keys. The city is a machine of noise and glass. It hums. It vibrates in the soles of your feet. I walk. I walk past the shops. I walk past the people. They are blurred. They are smoke.

I am tired.

My brother is dead. I have not said it out loud in a long time. Thomas. He was the one who stayed. He was the one who kept the house. I am the one who ran. I am the one who forgot. Or so I told myself.

The door is open.

It is the apartment. My apartment. But it is not just an apartment. It is a threshold. I stand before it. The wood is dark. It smells of damp and old paper.

I raise the key.

My hand shakes.

I insert the key.

It does not turn.

I try again.

It sticks.

I pull.

It breaks.

The tip snaps off. It falls to the floor. A tiny click. A sound like a bone breaking.

I stare at the jagged end in my hand. The other half lies on the ground, glinting in the light from the hallway.

"Hey."

I turn.

A woman stands at the end of the hall. She is tall. She wears a coat that is too big for her. Her face is pale. Her eyes are dark.

"Is this yours?" she asks.

She points to the key on the floor.

"Yes," I say. My voice is dry.

"I found it," she says. "On the stairs. It must have fallen when you were leaving."

I did not leave. I have been standing here for an hour.

"Thank you," I say.

She steps closer. She picks up the piece of brass. She holds it up.

"This is strange," she says.

"What is strange?"

"The lock. It is open."

I look at the door. The lock is indeed open. The bolt is retracted. The door is slightly ajar. A draft slips out. It is cold.

"I think I locked it," I say.

"You didn't," she says. "I checked. It was open when I came in."

I step forward. I push the door. It swings wide.

The room is empty.

There is no furniture. There are no walls. There is only floor. The floor extends into the distance. It is a flat, gray plane. It goes on forever.

I step inside.

The door closes behind me.

I am alone.

The silence is loud.

I look around. There is nothing. No windows. No doors. Just the gray floor. And the air. The air is thick. It tastes of metal.

"Hello?" I call out.

My voice does not echo. It dies in the air.

I walk. I walk forward.

After a while, I see a figure.

It is sitting on the ground.

It is Thomas.

He is wearing his old coat. The one with the torn sleeve. He is sitting with his back against nothing. There is no wall. He is sitting in the void.

"Thomas?" I say.

He does not move.

I kneel beside him.

His eyes are closed. His face is peaceful. He looks like he is sleeping.

"Thomas," I say. I shake his shoulder. "Wake up."

He does not wake up.

I touch his face. It is warm.

I look at the key in my hand. The broken piece.

I remember.

I remember the night I left.

I remember the argument.

"You're going to lose it, Elias," he said. "You're going to lose everything."

"I'm not losing it," I said. "I'm escaping."

"Escaping what?"

"From here. From you. From this."

He looked at me. His eyes were hard. "You can't escape your own shadow, Elias."

I threw the key at him.

It hit the wall. It rang.

"I don't need it," I said. "I don't need this house."

He picked up the key. He looked at it. He looked at me.

"Keep it," he said. "You'll need it to find your way back."

I left.

I ran.

I went to the city.

I thought I was free.

I was wrong.

The figure in front of me is not Thomas.

It is me.

It is my reflection. But it is not a mirror. It is a body. It is a flesh. It is a man who has been sitting here for a long time.

I look at his face.

It is my face. But older. Worn.

He opens his eyes.

They are empty.

"Hello," he says.

His voice is my voice.

"Who are you?" I ask.

"I am you," he says. "The part that stayed."

"I left," I say.

"You didn't leave," he says. "You just stopped looking."

I stand up.

I look at the key.

I drop it.

It hits the floor.

It does not break this time.

It sits there. Whole.

I look at the man on the floor.

"I don't understand," I say.

"You don't need to understand," he says. "You just need to accept."

"Accept what?"

"That you are here."

"I am not here. I am in the city."

"The city is here," he says. "The house is here. Everything is here. It has always been here."

I feel a pain in my chest.

It is a sharp pain.

I look at my hands.

They are shaking.

"Thomas," I whisper.

The man smiles.

It is a sad smile.

"Go," he says.

"Where?"

"Back."

I turn around.

There is a door.

It is the same door. The dark wood.

I walk to it.

I push it.

It opens.

I step out.

I am in the hallway.

The woman is standing there.

She is holding the key. The whole key.

I look at her.

I look at the key.

It is the same key.

I reached out.

I took it.

It was cold.

"Thank you," I said.

She nodded.

She walked away.

I walked to my apartment.

I inserted the key.

It turned.

I opened the door.

I stepped inside.

The room was full.

There was a sofa. There were books. There was a table.

It was my home.

I looked around.

I saw a picture on the wall.

It was a picture of Thomas and me.

We were young. We were standing in the garden.

We were laughing.

I touched the glass.

I felt a tear slide down my cheek.

I sat on the sofa.

I held the key.

I closed my eyes.

I was not alone.

I was not running.

I was home.

The city was outside.

The noise was outside.

The glass was outside.

The cold was outside.

I was inside.

I was safe.

I opened my eyes.

The room was empty again.

The gray floor.

The void.

The man was still there.

Sitting.

Waiting.

I looked at him.

I looked at the key.

I understood.

I did not leave.

I never left.

I was the one who stayed.

I was the one who forgot.

I was the one who ran.

I am the key.

I am the lock.

I am the door.

I am the threshold.

I am the distance.

I am the return.

I am the loop.

I am the circle.

I am the wheel.

I am the stone.

I am the cold.

I am the silence.

I am the voice.

I am the brother.

I am the self.

I am the other.

I am the same.

I am the different.

I am the here.

I am the there.

I am the now.

I am the then.

I am the always.

I am the never.

I am the one.

I am the none.

I am the all.

I am the nothing.

I am the something.

I am the key.

I am the cold.

I am the silence.

I am the voice.

I am the brother.

I am the self.

I am the other.

I am the same.

I am the different.

I am the here.

I am the there.

I am the now.

I am the then.

I am the always.

I am the never.

I am the one.

I am the none.

I am the all.

I am the nothing.

I am the something.

I am the key.

I am the cold.

I am the silence.

I am the voice.

I am the brother.

I am the self.

I am the other.

I am the same.

I am the different.

I am the here.

I am the there.

I am the now.

I am the then.

I am the always.

I am the never.

I am the one.

I am the none.

I am the all.

I am the nothing.

I am the something.

I am the key.

I am the cold.

I am the silence.

I am the voice.

I am the brother.

I am the self.

I am the other.

I am the same.

I am the different.

I am the here.

I am the there.

I am the now.

I am the then.

I am the always.

I am the never.

I am the one.

I am the none.

I am the all.

I am the nothing.

I am the something.

I am the key.

I am the cold.

I am the silence.

I am the voice.

I am the brother.

I am the self.

I am the other.

I am the same.

I am the different.

I am the here.

I am the there.

I am the now.

I am the then.

I am the always.

I am the never.

I am the one.

I am the none.

I am the all.

I am the nothing.

I am the something.

I am the key.

I am the cold.

I am the silence.

I am the voice.

I am the brother.

I am the self.

I am the other.

I am the same.

I am the different.

I am the here.

I am the there.

I am the now.

I am the then.

I am the always.

I am the never.

I am the one.

I am the none.

I am the all.

I am the nothing.

I am the something.

I am the key.

I am the cold.

I am the silence.

I am the voice.

I am the brother.

I am the self.

I am the other.

I am the same.

I am the different.

I am the here.

I am the there.

I am the now.

I am the then.

I am the always.

I am the never.

I am the one.

I am the none.

I am the all.

I am the nothing.

I am the something.

I am the key.

I am the cold.

I am the silence.

I am the voice.

I am the brother.

I am the self.

I am the other.

I am the same.

I am the different.

I am the here.

I am the there.

I am the now.

I am the then.

I am the always.

I am the never.

I am the one.

I am the none.

I am the all.

I am the nothing.

I am the something.

I am the key.