Since childhood, she had learned to walk alone—not just to school, but through life itself.
Mornings began with silence.
Her parents, always busy or strict, never asked how she was; instead, they asked only one question: "Did you study?" The monotony of their routine was suffocating.
She would nod or show them her books, and that was enough. They didn't notice the emptiness in her eyes or the quiet desperation in her heart.
She came from a middle-class family—not rich, not poor.
They had enough to get by, but not enough to indulge in luxuries. She had books, food, and clean uniforms, but what she lacked was understanding, warmth, and friends.
At school, she sat quietly on the last bench, not because she liked it, but because she had no one to sit with.
The bench was her sanctuary, a place where she could escape the noise and chaos of the classroom. Although she often knew the answers in class, she never raised her hand, fearing attention, judgment, and standing out. She was like a ghost, invisible and insignificant.
Sometimes, she couldn't complete her homework, not out of laziness, but due to the pressure of meeting her parents' expectations. Her parents cared only about her marks and discipline, never about her feelings or well-being.
Going out with friends was not allowed, so when her classmates invited her somewhere, she smiled and made excuses, though deep inside, she wanted to go and experience the joys of friendship—laughing, sharing secrets, eating street food, and taking selfies.
She longed to be part of their world, to be included in their conversations and plans. But she knew that would never happen.
She was tired of being invisible, of being a mere spectator in the lives of others. While the other girls passed notes, shared lunch, and planned birthdays, no one passed her a note, saved her a seat, or remembered her birthday.
She waited every day for someone to notice her, to ask, "Are you okay?" But the days passed, all the same: wake up, school, homework, sleep, repeat. She felt like she was stuck in a never-ending loop, with no escape. She had dreams—of finding a true friend, of being noticed, of being loved without conditions. But those dreams stayed locked inside her, like pages in a diary she didn't dare show anyone, filled with words that only the darkness understood.
Every day felt like a monotonous loop, until the day she first laid eyes on him.