The Story

I rushed down flights of stairs, searching for the safest place to hide her. Knowing she wouldn’t understand, I locked the small cell behind her.

“I’ll be back as soon as it’s safe,” I promised.

I couldn’t balance staying safe and being true to myself. I needed to survive.

I hurried back up the stairs and assumed my role—adrenaline coursing through me, my true self left behind. A fog slowly descended, and I forgot how to play, how to smile from my heart, how to truly exist in this world.

I was no longer a blaring target, but I was no longer living.

Confused, I tried desperately to fill the emptiness from the outside.

I’m certain she cried out for me. But I was so lost, so overwhelmed by pain, that I forgot she existed at all. Life without your inner voice is truly perilous.

With each passing year, the pain of that betrayal buried me deeper. The more I strived, the further I sank. Afraid I wouldn’t survive the next avalanche, I stopped trying to escape.

Then, in the stillness, a voice whispered—

Maybe there’s a way we can live a life we belong in.

Maybe there’s still a way. Her gentle words found me.

And they stayed.