45. Myla

I spent the past few days locked in my room, the blanket over my body not able to provide the warmth I desperately wish for. Time seems to stand still as I gaze at the world through my window, my eyes tracing the distant horizon. It carries on with its usual rhythm, laughter drifting in from a distance, mingling with the sound of passing cars and chirping birds. But in my room, I'm trapped.

Zayne had been calling and texting but I had been unable to bring myself to answer. Although I miss him so much I find myself overwhelmed with emptiness, I don't think I'm ready to face anyone, actually. The thought of trusting someone is disturbed by the thought of them deceiving me, and I find myself questioning if this pain is worth the risk.

Zayne said he wanted to protect me. Mom said she wanted to protect me. But all they did was make me feel suffocated as if I were a fragile bird trapped in a cage.

I sigh and stand up from my bed, walking out of my room when I stop in front of the mirror