Alena

The taut lines of my shoulders quiver, a silent symphony to the tumult that rages within me. Alone in the dimly lit confines of my room, I sit hunched over, my face concealed in the cradle of my trembling hands. Each shuddering breath is a battle, and the quiet room echoes with the sound of my stifled sobs. The gossamer trail of tears etches a path down my cheeks, mirroring the creases that worry has carved into my once serene countenance.

“Are this what destiny feels ...