Last semester

Tiana's chest heaved as she sat up in bed, sheets tangled around her legs. The room was dark, but the memory clung to her like a shadow. Graham’s weight, his hands, the panic—the nightmare had felt too real. Her lungs screamed for air, her skin still crawling, her heart hammering against her ribs. She pressed her palms to her face, willing herself to wake fully. “It was just a dream,” she whispered, though the echo in her mind refused to quiet. That one week—last semester—had left marks she couldn’t erase, even in sleep. As she often did after nightmares like this, she slipped out of her room and climbed to the rooftop of the unfinished building behind her house. Sitting with her knees pulled to her chest, she stared at the distant lights of Chuka town. The soft hum of the town below was oddly comforting, a quiet reminder that life went on beyond her fears. The breeze brushed her skin, carrying the faint scent of dust and late-night cooking from the streets below. From the streets near campus, she saw students passing by—holding hands, laughing loudly. The sight made her nauseous, a sharp reminder that the world went on without her, and that happiness felt like a foreign language she had forgotten. She let herself breathe, trying to convince herself that Graham existed only in her nightmares. But tonight, something was different. On the balcony just a step away from her rooftop, a figure paced slowly. The balcony was dimly lit—enough for her to notice the silver rings on his fingers, but not enough to see his face. He didn’t notice her at all. She watched him, silent, feeling a strange calm settle over her, though she didn’t understand why. She didn’t move. She didn’t call out. She just stayed on her rooftop, the city lights flickering beneath her, and let the quiet of the night settle around them both.