The girl who waited

The night felt heavier than usual. The dim light from her bedside lamp flickered slightly, casting soft shadows across her room. She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the silence that had become too familiar.

It wasn't just quiet—it was deafening.

Every tick of the clock, every distant car horn from outside, every rustle of the trees in the wind reminded her of how alone she was.

Once, she had loved the night. It had been peaceful, a time when the world slowed down, when she could dream without interruption. But now, it was suffocating. A never-ending reminder that her thoughts were the only company she had left.

She turned on her side, clutching her blanket closer. Her phone screen lit up, the glow harsh against the darkness. A message notification.

Her heart skipped a beat. For a split second, hope flickered inside her—maybe someone had finally noticed her absence. Maybe someone cared.

But as she tapped on the screen, the hope crumbled.

Spam.

Just another useless message, another meaningless notification. Nothing that mattered.

She sighed, locking the screen and tossing the phone onto the pillow beside her.

Did she even want someone to text her anymore? Would it even make a difference?

She had pushed everyone away, turned down invitations, ignored calls. Eventually, they had stopped trying. And she wasn't sure if she regretted it or not.

Rolling onto her back, she let her mind wander.

Maybe things would be different if she tried. If she texted first. If she reached out.

But the thought exhausted her.

It was easier to stay silent.

To let the world move on without her.

She closed her eyes, trying to push away the ache in her chest. But no matter how much she tried to escape it, the loneliness stayed.