Ella
Later that night, as I lay in bed, sleep was elusive. My mind replayed the events of the day—the endless taunts, the silent stares, and the promise I’d made to myself to fight back. The room was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old wooden floors, but a sense of unease lingered in the air.
I tossed and turned, staring at the ceiling, willing sleep to come. That’s when I heard it—a soft tapping sound.
I froze, my body stiffening as I listened. It was faint but deliberate, like someone tapping on glass.
Slowly, I sat up and glanced toward the window. The moonlight streamed in, casting pale beams across the room, and there it was—a small bird perched on the ledge, its silhouette stark against the light.
Its tiny claws scratched against the glass, and I noticed som
