The next morning, I was pulled from my restless sleep by the sound of my mom’s voice. She stood at the door, trying to rouse me from bed. It was my first day at the new university she had enrolled me in, but I didn’t feel like getting up. The idea of starting over —new classes, new people —felt more like a burden than an opportunity.
“Isabella, wake up. It’s your first day of college, don’t be late,” Mom called out, her voice edged with the usual mix of sternness and impatience.
I arched my brows in irritation but kept the blanket firmly over my head. I knew she wouldn’t waste her time trying to convince me to get up. She had her own busy schedule, her own priorities. Sure enough, after a few moments of silence, I could not hear her voice.
I sighed deeply, pulling the blanket tighter ar
