Chapter 1
Ring, ring, ring—tring, tring, tring.
6:15 AM.
Half-asleep, I slapped the alarm off.
Outside, the birds were chirping nonstop. It was a chilly morning—not too cold, not too warm. The kind of morning that made me want to stay in bed a little longer.
But I got up.
I don't know why, but that morning, I hoped something would be different.
Maybe I just wanted someone to talk to.
Someone who would listen without telling me I was overreacting.
Someone who would let me say the things I'd been keeping inside for so long.
But I didn't even know how to say them.
At home, being the youngest meant that my feelings were rarely taken seriously.
If I got upset, I was being childish.
If I complained, I was being dramatic.
So, eventually, I learned to stay quiet.
I went to the kitchen and started cooking for my family.
Another silent morning.
No one talked. The only sounds were the clattering of utensils and the occasional whistle of the pressure cooker.
It was strange.
Our house could be so loud at night, yet so quiet in the morning.
I finished my work and went back to my room. I brushed my teeth and splashed cold water on my face. That woke me up completely.
I changed into my uniform—a white shirt and a gray skirt—and tied my hair into the same messy bun I wore every day.
Same uniform.
Same messy hair.
Same routine.
I grabbed my bag and rushed out of the house.
I was halfway down the pathway when I stopped.
Someone was waiting for me.
-@MandiraBhujel
