She woke before the sun, not because she wanted to, but because the house expected her to. The silence of the morning wasn’t peaceful—it was heavy. It pressed against her chest as she moved through the kitchen, her hands already busy while the world around her still slept.
She ironed shirts she didn’t wear. Served meals she didn’t eat. She bought comfort with her own money—softness, relief, maybe even a breath of peace. But when it arrived, it wasn’t for her. She watched others sleep in its cool air while she worked in the heat, her name erased from the story of her own sacrifice.
Her dreams didn’t ask for much—just a morning to sleep in, a dinner at a hotel, a photo in front of a place she’d never been. But even those felt like luxuries she wasn’t allowed to want.
She scrolled through videos of people laughing in cities she couldn’t name, tasting food she’d never smell. And the silence in her mind screamed: Why not me?
But she didn’t let it break her.
Last summer, she created something from nothing, animated stories, voiceovers, a YouTube channel born from her own hands. This summer, she wanted more than screens. She wanted skies. But the world had other plans.
Still, she wrote. She wrote because it was the only way to scream without making a sound. She wrote because her story mattered, even if no one clapped. She wrote because silence, when shaped into words, becomes power.
And one day, when she finally stands in a place she once only imagined, she’ll remember this: She didn’t escape her cage. She built the key.
Originally published on my blog: [https://thequiteflamesbyaqlashari.blogspot.com/2025/06/the-noise-of-silence-in-her-mind.html](https://thequiteflamesbyaqlashari.blogspot.com/2025/06/the-noise-of-silence-in-her-mind.html)