One sunny day

        Many knew her face. The bright appearance with a sweet smile appeared on fans' screens every evening. Illuminated by the soft glow of a ring light, with impeccable makeup and an unwavering smile, she won the hearts of many. It seemed that in her world there was no place for sadness or anxiety—only endless fun and joy.

        The room where she broadcast her shows always looked immaculate: a stylish interior in soft pastel colors, a cozy sofa with vibrant pillows, and soft garlands on the walls created an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. This small world seemed like a true refuge, a place where only happiness existed.

        Her voice was like music—mesmerizing, alluring, as if every word was imbued with sunlight. She effortlessly lifted the spirits of her viewers, played games with them, answered questions, and shared her thoughts and stories. Fans admired her optimism and lightness; in the comments one could see: “You are a ray of light in this world!” “Your energy is contagious!” “How do you always manage to stay so positive?”

        But in every movement, in every glance, in every moment, there was a hidden secret. Something elusive, implicit, yet palpable, like a shadow behind her smile. The audience saw only the side she showed them, unaware that behind this cheerfulness and radiance was something much deeper and more unsettling.

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        It was one of those rare days when nature seemed content with itself. The sky was a bright blue, as if someone had deliberately erased all the clouds, leaving only an endless expanse where the sun played. Its rays gently touched the ground, not burning, but caressing, like a warm blanket in the morning. The air was filled with the light aroma of blooming trees and freshly cut grass, mixed with a subtle scent of earth warmed by long hours of daylight.

        The green crowns of the trees whispered, the leaves gently swayed in the wind, creating a soft rustle. This breeze was cool but not cold—it brought with it a feeling of lightness, a reminder that summer was in full swing. Everything around was permeated with light; every blade of grass, every tiny speck of dust sparkled in the air like magical pollen.

        Birds sang their melodic songs, calling to one another, as if arranging a competition for the most sonorous and joyful trills. Their voices wove into a symphony of nature that enveloped everyone who contributed light and sound to this realm.

          Against the backdrop of this idyll, like a shadow misplaced, she walked. Her steps were quiet and unnoticed, like a gray mouse making its way along a busy street. Dressed in dark, concealing clothes, a long gray sweater, baggy pants, and dull sneakers, she seemed alien to this sunny world. Her figure was hidden, as if she wanted to become invisible, to escape from all the joyful glances and smiling faces.

        She carried several shopping bags—nothing special, just essentials. Her head was lowered, her long hair, gathered in a careless ponytail, obscuring her face. She tried not to meet the gazes of those around her, as if afraid someone might recognize her behind this disguise. Children laughed around her, birds sang, the wind played with leaves, but she seemed to be oblivious to it all. It was as if she were behind a glass wall—visible but unreachable.

        She approached the intersection, and her steps slowed when the traffic light turned red. She stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, looking at the road ahead but not seeing it. Cars rushed by, their engines roaring, filling the silence that increasingly pressed upon her.

        The sun, so kind and gentle to everyone else, became a tormentor for her. It mercilessly beat down on her covered clothing, piercing even through the fabric, as if trying to burn away all her strength and energy. The heat wrapped around her in a thick, invisible blanket, turning every moment of waiting into real torture. Sweat trickled down her forehead in tiny droplets, sticking to her skin, and she automatically brushed it away, but found no relief.

        She stood at the traffic light, feeling as though the sun’s rays were squeezing her, draining her energy. The air, so fresh and pleasant just a moment ago, now felt thick and heavy, hard to breathe in. Her thoughts, scattered and dull, offered no respite. The whole world around her continued its life, enjoying this beautiful day, while she stood like a statue, frozen under the scorching sun.

        At that moment, she wanted to run away—not just cross the street, but escape to somewhere without this light, these sounds, this oppressive feeling of her own helplessness. But her legs felt rooted to the asphalt, and all she could do was wait for the traffic light to finally change, giving her the chance to leave and hide from these suffocating sensations. That red light seemed to last an eternity, holding her in place, reminding her that her life, too, was frozen, as if in endless waiting for something that would never come.

        Taking a heavy sigh, she looked at the traffic light again. The red light was still glowing, and her impatience grew. Cars sped by, their speeds and sounds creating a restless chaos she knew well. At that moment, she suddenly felt an urge to step forward, to drown in the noise and movement, to dissolve into it like a whirlpool.

        Memories began to surface in her mind—scenes from her childhood that seemed distant yet still troubled her. She saw in her thoughts how her mother yelled when she couldn’t manage her irritation, how her classmates laughed at her clumsiness or failures. Those moments of injustice and pain, those screams and mockeries—they were like dark stains on her past that wouldn’t let go.

        Inside her mind, chaos erupted, no less than the one she observed outside. Voices—there were many, and they all mixed together at once. One voice urged her to act, another frightened and judged her, a third reminded her that her inner world had long been defeated by the external. They whispered and shouted, poisoning her thoughts and creating a sense of losing herself in her own consciousness.

        She stood still, watching the cars as if searching in their swift movement for an answer or a way out. At that moment, her mind was captive to these painful memories and pressing sensations. The heat of the sun, the noise from the passing cars, and her own inner demons created unbearable pressure. And perhaps for a moment, it seemed to her that stepping into this chaos would be easier than remaining here, in a state of agonizing anticipation and internal turmoil.

        At the moment when she was ready to step into the chaos, she was suddenly touched from behind. She turned around and saw a little girl standing next to her mother. The girl was dressed in a bright dress, with two neat pigtails fluttering playfully in the wind. She was tugging at the girl’s pants, her face showing lively interest and concern.

        The little girl looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes and, unable to hold back, said:

— Hello.

        She froze in place, staring at the girl with a slight tremor in her voice. Her words, simple and sincere, rang out in the silence like a small but significant reminder of human kindness.

        The mother, noticing her daughter’s embarrassment and uncertainty, approached and, picking her up, apologized:

   — I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. We’re just looking for the way to the park, and she… she often tugs at everyone she likes. I’m very sorry for disturbing you.

        The mother was dressed in a light dress and looked concerned, her expression a mix of guilt and confusion. She hugged her daughter, who, clinging to her arms, continued to look at the girl with interest.

        She stood still, her inner anxieties momentarily fading in the face of this unexpected display of human connection. She smiled quietly, trying to hide her internal struggle:

— It’s alright, — she replied, her voice soft and weary. — The park? Yes, it’s over there, just turn right at that café and cross the street, and you’ll see the signs.

        The mother nodded, thanked her, and, holding her daughter, began to move in the direction indicated. The little girl looked back at her once more and, bidding farewell, waved her hand.

        She, standing in place, watched them leave, and a sense of relief fluttered in her heart. At that moment, as she felt this brief but genuine contact with another person, her own fears and torments momentarily dissolved, giving way to simple human warmth.

Without even realizing it, she whispered:

— Mom…

        At that moment, the light turned green. She took a step forward, crossing the road. Cars rushed by, and she, without thinking about anything, simply walked on. The bright, warm rays of the sun touched her face, but she didn't care. She walked straight, oblivious to the noise and bustle around her, until she reached the other side of the street.

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