: The First Rise
The room was still... eerily still.
No open window, no sound, no sign of life.
The bed had become my temporary homeland—without a passport, without an emergency exit.
Days... or maybe weeks had passed. I couldn't tell anymore. Everything blurred together.
Day looked like night, and I felt like nothing.
Everything felt heavy.
The blanket. The air. Even my own body.
I no longer saw my reflection in the mirror. I no longer tried.
All I did was open my eyes… then close them again, pretending to live without really living.
But this morning… something changed.
Maybe a bird chirping far away?
A soft light slipping under the door?
Or maybe… I was just tired of being tired.
A small voice inside me whispered—quiet, but persistent:
"Get up."
I wasn't ready. But somehow, my hand moved.
I grabbed the edge of the bed.
My feet touched the floor.
And for a brief second, it felt like the entire world paused—
Watching me take that first step toward rising.
: The Decision to Move
I finally decided… to move.
My room was on the top floor of the house. I walked slowly toward the door, dragging my tired body as if it carried years of silence.
My hand trembled as I grabbed the doorknob… I opened it slowly.
Step by step, I made my way down the stairs, avoiding eye contact, avoiding words—avoiding life.
I entered the bathroom, took care of what I needed… then stood in front of the mirror.
What I saw wasn't me.
It was a stranger.
Dark circles beneath hollow eyes. Pale, thin face. Frizzy hair. A fragile body that looked like it could be blown away by the wind.
I turned on the faucet. The water ran.
I washed my hands.
But when it came to my face… I froze.
Somehow, pouring water on my face felt like the hardest decision I'd ever make.
I couldn't do it.
I backed away. Returned to the room.
This time, I opened the curtain.
I let the sunlight spill into the small room—let it paint the shadows with a faint glow.
I didn't change my clothes. I just stood there, staring out the large window…
Watching the garden and the trees below.
My eyes began to close again, drowsiness creeping in…
So I lay back down.
But this time, sleep wasn't easy.
The door burst open.
My father walked in, face burning with rage.
"What is this mess?! Is this what you call a room?!"
His voice cracked through the silence like thunder.
I said nothing.
I just stood there—still, quiet—
As if my heart had crawled back into the dark corner it had just escaped.
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