Lets learn to Live again!
The dormitory was eerily quiet. Most of the students had already left for the holidays, their laughter and hurried footsteps replaced by an unsettling stillness. The usual warmth of shared conversations and midnight study sessions had vanished, leaving behind only the soft hum of the radiator and the occasional creak of the old wooden floors.
She sat on the edge of her bed, her back hunched, staring at the darkened screen of her phone. It had disconnected minutes ago, but she still clutched it as if holding on would change what had been said.
“You’re eighteen now. You can fend for yourself.”
“No need to come home for Christmas.”
The words echoed in her mind, sharp and final, wrapping around her like a cold wind. Her stepmother hadn’t even sounded angry. Just... indifferent. As if cutting her off was the simplest, most natural thing in the world.
A lump formed in her throat, but she refused to cry. Not now. Not again.
The room was dimly lit by the golden glow of the streetlamp outside, casting long shadows on the bare walls. Her side of the dorm was sparse—just a neatly made bed, a small wooden desk with a stack of worn-out books, and a corkboard above it covered in faded polaroids and pinned notes. The other bed, belonging to her roommate, was stripped bare, the suitcase long gone.
She had nowhere to go.
The realization settled in her chest like a heavy stone.
Christmas had always been difficult, but at least there had been a house to return to—a place that, though never warm, was still familiar. Now, even that was gone.
A gust of wind rattled the windowpane, sending a shiver through her. The snow had started falling again, soft flurries drifting lazily under the glow of the streetlights. She pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly.
Outside, the world carried on without her. Families would be gathering around fireplaces, drinking hot chocolate, exchanging gifts, and basking in the comfort of belonging.
She had never felt further away from that life.
The silence in the room was suffocating. She needed air. Without thinking, she pushed off the bed, slipped her feet into her worn sneakers, and grabbed a hoodie from the chair. The fabric still smelled faintly of home—detergent and something unplaceable, maybe from the past, maybe just a memory.
The hallway was just as deserted, the faint buzz of fluorescent lights filling the space. She passed by the common room, where leftover tinsel and forgotten paper snowflakes still clung to the walls, remnants of a celebration she hadn’t been part of.
Pushing open the exit door, she stepped outside into the freezing night. The cold hit her instantly, biting through her thin hoodie, but she welcomed it. The crisp air filled her lungs, grounding her in the present.
She wandered toward the small courtyard, her breath turning to mist in the night air. The dorm building loomed behind her, its windows dark, except for a few faint glows from students who hadn’t left yet. In the distance, the lights of the nearby town twinkled invitingly, laughter and holiday music drifting from somewhere far away.
She stared at them, her hands stuffed deep into her pockets, her fingers numb.
This was it.
She was truly alone.
For the first time, she had no home to return to.
And she had no idea what to do next.
