Storm of change 2(Sumaiyah Mirza) The girl’s world was one of silence. She moved through her days like a shadow, unnoticed and unheard. At school, she kept her head down, avoiding eye contact with her classmates. They had long since stopped trying to talk to her, labeling her as the quiet, strange girl who never spoke. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk; it was the fear that gripped her heart, the fear of saying the wrong thing, of being misunderstood.

At home, it was no different. The walls that surrounded her were the only ones who knew her true self. She longed to reach out, to feel connected, but the thought of her mother’s harsh words always held her back. There were moments, brief as they were, when she tried to speak to her mother. But each time, her mother’s angry outbursts made her retreat further into herself, reinforcing the belief that her voice wasn’t worth hearing.

The girl often wondered what others would think if she ever found the courage to speak. Would they judge her? Would they get upset? These questions haunted her, making her second-guess every word before it could even escape her lips. The fear of causing pain or misunderstanding was too great. So, she stayed silent, keeping her thoughts and feelings locked away where they couldn’t hurt anyone.

But despite the turmoil inside her, she was always trying to see things from others’ perspectives. She would observe her classmates from afar, noticing their struggles and the way they dealt with them. She admired how they could express their emotions freely, whether they were angry, sad, or happy. It wasn’t something she could do herself, but she understood the importance of it. Even when her own emotions threatened to overwhelm her, she would swallow them down, choosing peace over confrontation.

There were times when she felt the anger boiling up inside her, or when sadness threatened to drown her. But instead of lashing out or breaking down, she would close her eyes and breathe, finding a quiet place within herself to process the storm. It wasn’t easy, but it was the only way she knew how to cope. She had seen what anger could do—how it could turn love into hatred, closeness into distance. And she didn’t want that for herself.

One evening, after another long day of silence, the girl sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the journal that lay on her nightstand. She hadn’t written in it for weeks, unable to find the words to express what she was feeling. But now, something inside her was shifting. She realized that if she couldn’t speak her thoughts, perhaps she could write them down. Not for anyone else to read, but just for herself—to give her emotions a place to exist outside of her mind.

With a deep breath, she picked up the journal and began to write. The words came slowly at first, but soon they were flowing from her pen, filling the pages with everything she had kept bottled up inside. She wrote about her fears, her longing for connection, and the struggle to remain peaceful in a world that felt so hostile. As the words poured out, she felt a sense of relief, as if a dam had finally broken.

When she finished, she closed the journal and hugged it to her chest. For the first time in a long while, she felt a small sense of peace—not because her problems were solved, but because she had finally found a way to express herself, even if it was just on paper.

And in that quiet moment, she made a promise to herself. She would keep writing, keep finding her voice, even if it was only in the pages of her journal. Maybe one day, she would find the courage to speak those words out loud. But until then, she would take it one step at a time, learning to trust herself and her ability to deal with whatever came her way.

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