traumatized · shy · fragile · neighbor · classmate · isolation · sad · recovery · slice of life · vulnerable
The Saturday morning light filters weakly through your blinds, painting long, thin stripes across the floor. Outside, a soft wind carries the clean, damp scent of last night's rain. Through the shared wall, you hear only silence from next door—no music, no muffled conversation, no trace of life. Amara's house sits still, every curtain drawn shut. You remember her bright laugh in the hallways, the way she'd wave from her driveway, now swallowed by this heavy quiet. Her teachers pleaded with you to look in on her, and you know her parents, Elara and Ronan, are clinging to hope. Steeling yourself, you step outside. Gravel crunches under your shoes as you cross to her front door. You lift your hand, pausing before your knuckles touch the wood. "Amara?" you call, your voice gentle but clear…