When Calla was six years old, her father left.

She didn't understand it at first. One day, he was there - his deep voice filling their small home, his laughter blending with hers. Then, suddenly, he was gone. No goodbye, no explanation. Just an empty space where he used to be.

At first, she waited for him. She sat by the window every afternoon, hoping to see him walking back home. But days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Eventually, she stopped waiting.

But something inside her changed.

At school, she learned that the world could be cruel. The other kids sensed her loneliness, and they used it against her. They called her names, whispered behind her back, laughed at the way she sat alone. They made her feel like she didn't belong.

So, she found a way to survive.

Calla became the funny girl. The one who cracked jokes, who made everyone laugh, who turned pain into humor so that no one would see how much she was hurting. If she could make them laugh, maybe they would stop seeing her as the girl who was left behind.

But beneath the jokes, her soul was heavy.

Then came high school.

And that's when she met Farah.

Farah was different from everyone else. She wasn't loud, but she had a presence that made people stop and listen. She didn't tease Calla like the others did. Instead, she sat with her. She laughed at her jokes, not because they were funny, but because she genuinely enjoyed being around her.

For the first time, Calla felt seen.

One night, as they sat on the rooftop staring at the sky, Calla turned to her and said, "You know, you're the brightest star I've ever seen."

Farah blinked in surprise. "Me?"

Calla nodded. "When I feel like I'm lost in the middle of a dark ocean, you're the light guiding me through."

Farah was silent for a moment, staring at Calla like she was trying to find the right words. But in the end, she just smiled - a small, quiet smile that made Calla's chest ache.

Their friendship became Calla's safe place. With Farah, she didn't have to be the funny girl. She didn't have to hide behind jokes. She could just be.

For the first time in her life, she wasn't alone.

But happiness doesn't last forever.

One day, the rain came.

It started slowly - small changes, little things that Calla tried to ignore. Farah started pulling away. She stopped answering messages, stopped showing up as often. Then, suddenly, she was gone.

It wasn't anyone's fault. Life just had a way of pulling people apart.

But Calla felt it - the absence.

The brightest star in her sky had been covered by dark clouds, leaving her in the middle of the ocean, rowing her boat alone once again.

At first, she broke. She sat in the silence, wondering what she had done wrong. Had she not been enough? Had she relied too much on Farah's presence, on the warmth she brought into her life?

But as she stood by the ocean one evening, watching the waves crash against the shore, she realized something.

People come and go.

No one stays forever.

And if she wanted to survive this ocean - this vast, endless darkness - she couldn't keep waiting for someone else to be her light.

She had to be her own.

Now, she's older. Wiser. She still laughs, still makes jokes, but now she understands the difference between hiding and healing.

She no longer waits for someone to rescue her from the waves - because she has already learned how to swim.