Zariah woke up before the sun rose. For once, not because of nightmares, but because she'd actually slept.
Only four hours—but for her, it felt like a full night.
She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes and listening to the quiet. No yelling. No alarm. Just silence. For the first time in weeks, it didn't feel heavy. It felt… calm.
She got dressed in something that wasn't just her hoodie. A soft lavender shirt. The one her grandma gave her before she passed. It still smelled like flowers.
She brushed her hair. Not perfectly. But it looked like hers. Like the girl she remembered before everything started falling apart.
Breakfast was a stretch. Her stomach turned at the thought of food. But she forced herself to drink water. One small step.
She even packed a snack in her bag.
At school, everything felt louder than usual, like the world was trying to pull her back into the chaos. But Zariah kept her headphones in, breathing slow and steady. A trick Ms. Reyes taught her when anxiety started crawling up her spine.
"Breathe in for four. Hold for four. Out for four. Repeat."
In math class, she didn't space out. In English, she wrote a full page in her journal. Not poetry. Just thoughts. Confusing ones. Dark ones. Hopeful ones.
"Maybe it's okay that I'm not okay yet. Maybe the trying part is enough."
At lunch, Jasmine sat beside her again. Still quiet, still protective. She offered a granola bar without a word. Zariah took it. Even if she only ate half, it was something.
That night, she lit the candle on her desk. The one she used to love. She watched the flame flicker and realized—this was the first evening in a while that she didn't feel like hurting herself.
Not because the thoughts were gone. But because she had one reason not to.
She felt like herself.