The rain tapped softly against the window as Hana sat alone in her room. The world outside was gray, and somehow, it felt like the sky understood her heart. She held her phone tightly, scrolling through old photos—smiles, laughter, people who once felt so close but now seemed far away.
A deep ache pressed inside her chest. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. It was the kind of sadness that was heavy, silent, and invisible. No one saw it when she smiled at school, no one noticed it when she said, “I’m fine.”
Hana remembered how it felt to be safe in someone’s words, to feel like she belonged somewhere. Now, even in a room full of people, she felt like a shadow, unseen and unheard.
But as she looked at the rain sliding down the glass, she whispered to herself, “It’s okay. The rain will stop. The sun will come back. And maybe… so will my smile.”
For now, she let the sadness stay, like a quiet visitor. She knew one day, it would leave too.