Nayana
Tonight feels heavier than usual. Maybe it’s because of my plans, I don’t know.
Every sound in the house, every creak, every faint breeze of the wind, presses against my chest as I zip up my small travel bag. My hands tremble a little, not from the chill in the air, but from the weight of what I’m about to do.
You got this, Nana. You have to be brave.
I’ve thought about this for hours, maybe even days, but thinking and doing are two different things.
Still, I can’t stay here any longer. If I don’t leave tonight, I never will.
The air in my room feels stale, like it’s holding all the things I’ve ever wanted to say but couldn’t. I glance around slowly, letting my eyes drift over the familiar corners, the shelves filled with books that once gave me comfort, my mama’s vase by the
