Episode 1: New Beginnings

Ayla Lune

The bell rang as I stepped through the towering gates of my new school. My heart pounded in rhythm with my cautious footsteps, unsure of what to expect. It was the first day in a place that wasn’t home, with people who weren’t familiar, and everything felt unnervingly loud.

The morning assembly was a blur of speeches and introductions. Teachers spoke of goals, discipline, and opportunities, while students murmured among themselves. I sat in the back row, silent and observant, wishing I could just blend into the walls.

As soon as we were dismissed, the day became a whirlwind of faces. Students approached me with smiles and questions, all eager to meet the “new girl.” Most were kind, but there was something about their eyes—a sharpness that hinted at competition beneath their friendliness.

I nodded and smiled when required, careful to give just enough to not seem rude. But it was exhausting, trying to be polite while feeling completely out of place.

Then, as the introductions continued, two girls approached me. Unlike the others, they didn’t overwhelm me with endless chatter or push themselves into my space. They smiled warmly, a quiet kind of confidence radiating from them.

“Hi, Ayla, right?” one of them asked.

“Yes,” I replied hesitantly, glancing at their name badges. Sara and Somi.

“We’re in the same class,” Somi said, her voice light and friendly. “If you need anything, just let us know.”

Sara nodded. “This school can be a bit... intense. But don’t worry, you’ll find your place.”

I didn’t know why, but their words felt genuine, like they weren’t just saying them to be polite. Something in their eyes told me they meant it.

“Thank you,” I said softly, feeling a small weight lift from my chest.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes, introductions to teachers, and navigating unfamiliar hallways. At lunchtime, the school came alive with activity.

Clubs had set up booths around the courtyard, colorful banners and enthusiastic members calling out to passing students. They advertised sports teams, drama clubs, debate societies, and everything in between.

“Join the volleyball team!” a girl shouted nearby, but I just walked past, unbothered by the energy around me. I couldn’t bring myself to care. It wasn’t like I’d be allowed to join anyway.

Instead, I found a quiet corner near the library and sat alone, my lunch untouched. I didn’t feel lonely, not exactly—it was more like I was waiting. Waiting for this new place to feel like something more than just another stop.

The day ended with Sara and Somi finding me again. “We’re heading to the café across the street,” Somi said. “Want to come?”

I hesitated, unsure if I was ready to be part of something. But their smiles made it hard to say no.

“Okay,” I said.

As we walked together, I couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—this place wouldn’t be so bad after all.

For the first time that day, I felt like I could breathe...

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I walked through the front door, the weight of the day settling in my chest. It was one of those days where everything felt too loud, too bright, and yet, nothing felt real. The small, comforting moments with Sara and Somi seemed so far away now, lost in the sea of expectations and questions that awaited me at home.

My parents were in the living room as usual. My dad was in his favorite armchair, flipping through a newspaper, and my mom was on the phone, talking about something I couldn’t care less about. It was as though they had already forgotten that I was the one who’d just spent an entire day in a new place, trying to find my footing.

The usual barrage of questions began the moment I stepped into the room.

“So, how was your first day, Ayla?” My mom didn’t even look up from her phone.

“It was fine,” I muttered, trying to hide the exhaustion in my voice.

“Did you meet anyone new?” Dad asked, his eyes scanning me from over his newspaper.

I nodded. “Yeah, a couple of people. Sara and Somi. They were really nice.”

“Good,” my mom said, finally putting down the phone. “You should try joining some clubs. Maybe you could join the volleyball team? Or something to get you involved.”

The words hit me like a slap to the face. The volleyball team. How could they bring it up again? The same team I was never allowed to try out for. The same dream that was always pushed aside because it wasn’t “practical.”

“I don’t know,” I muttered, turning away.

They continued, oblivious to how I was feeling, asking me what I had learned, how many friends I’d made, what I was going to do with my future. I wanted to scream, Why can’t you just ask me how my day was? How I felt, what I thought. But no, it was always about what they thought I should be.

It wasn’t that they didn’t love me—it was that they didn’t understand me. They saw their perfect younger daughter and compared me to her. She was the one who could do everything right, while I was left feeling like I didn’t fit anywhere.

I knew they meant well. I knew they just wanted me to succeed. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was just another person to measure up to their expectations, not someone they truly saw.

Without saying another word, I walked up to my room and shut the door behind me.

Once I was alone, I collapsed onto my bed, pulling the covers over my head. I needed to escape, to run away from all of it—the comparisons, the pressure, the feeling of being invisible.

Sara and Somi were the only ones who had made me feel like I wasn’t alone, like I could be myself, even if just for a moment. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted to be somewhere where I didn’t have to pretend, where I wasn’t held up against someone else.

I wanted to leave. And I didn’t know how or where, but that feeling in my chest—of wanting to be free—was growing stronger with each passing day.

There had to be more to life than this. There had to be a place where I could breathe, where I wasn’t the daughter caught in someone else’s shadow.

With those heavy thoughts weighing on her, Ayla crawled into bed, pulling the covers tightly around herself as if they could shield her from the suffocating thoughts in her mind. The day had been a blur of new faces, new experiences, but at the end of it all, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it had all been just another layer added to her burden.

She stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts racing, replaying the conversations from earlier, the expectations, the comparisons, the feeling of being unheard. It was as though no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t escape the weight of what everyone else wanted her to be.

The room was quiet, but the silence was deafening. She closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t come easily.

Maybe tomorrow will be better, she thought, though deep down, she knew it wouldn’t. The cycle would just continue—another day of pretending, another day of being what everyone expected her to be.

She let out a deep sigh, her body aching with exhaustion, but her mind still awake, restless.

And with those heavy thoughts swirling in her head, she finally drifted off into a restless sleep, hoping for an escape, even if only in her dreams...

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