Sophia
My body felt drained, as though every bone had been hollowed out and replaced with lead.
Slowly, I pushed myself up from the door where I had been sitting, my palm lingering on the cool wood as if I still needed to bar the world outside.
Each step toward the far corner of the room echoed too loudly in the silence, dragging with it the weight of exhaustion and despair.
The bench sat there waiting for me, thin, and unremarkable, yet, somehow, it had become my bed.
A narrow strip of wood with a blanket folded over it, hardly enough to soften its bite against my back, but it was mine.
My little refuge.
Over the months, I had taught myself to curl up on it and pretend it was a sanctuary, but tonight even that illusion faltered.
All I had ever wanted was peace. A quiet corner
