I sat on the bus with my hands clenched in my lap, trying not to panic.
Inside, I was unraveling thread by thread. My heart slammed so hard it felt like it might crack my ribs. My breath stayed shallow no matter how hard I tried to slow it, each inhale scraping, each exhale too fast. My nerves were pulled tight, stretched thin, like one wrong movement might snap something I wouldn’t be able to put back together.
On the outside, I forced stillness.
I made myself small. Calm. Forgettable. I angled my head down and let my hair spill forward, pretending it might work like a curtain. Like if I hid my face well enough, the world might agree to overlook me.
It didn’t.
Hair as blonde as mine never disappears. It never has. Even in a crowded space, even when I’m silent, it marks me. A signal f
