Escape

Books became her secret friends. She would trace the spines of titles like A Brief History of Time or Women in Science, whispering their names like prayers. On some evenings, after closing up the store, the owner—an old man with kind eyes—would let her take a book home for the night. She never asked. He just knew.

One night, as she was walking home under the pale glow of the streetlights, the cold wind tugging at her scarf, Maira felt a strange ache in her chest. It wasn’t new, but it was louder now. She looked up at the sky — the same sky she’d memorized constellations from — and wondered, “Will anyone ever really see me?”

At home, things never changed.

Her mother still called her “stubborn.”

Her father barely looked up when she walked in.

Her siblings laughed and talked among themselves, never really noticing how tired her eyes were or how her hands trembled from holding too much.

But Maira had mastered silence like an art.

She still cooked.

Still cleaned.

Still gave.

Still dreamed.

One day, during a college event, one of her professors called her aside. A visiting scientist from a research institute had gone through some of her class projects. He was impressed. There was a scholarship opportunity—rare, but real. It meant going to another city. Living alone. Pursuing research in a field she loved.

Her heart leapt.

But her fear was louder than her joy.

That night, she sat at the dinner table quietly. She looked at her family — her mother sighing over bills, her father glued to the news, her siblings complaining about their school. She wanted to say it. Wanted to scream, “I have a chance. Let me go.”

But she had said things before. And every time, she was reminded that in this family, dreams were luxury items they couldn’t afford.

Still, something in her shifted.

That night, under the flickering tube light in her room, Maira packed her notebook, a few clothes, and the book she loved most: Hidden Figures. She left a note — not for sympathy, not for forgiveness, but for honesty.

⸻

“I’ve always done what was asked of me.

But now I am choosing me.

Not out of rebellion.

Out of survival.

Out of love for the girl I used to be — the one who looked at stars and believed in more.

If you ever look for me, I’ll be in a lab, or a library, or under the sky.

Not silent anymore.

Love,

Maira”

She boarded a train the next morning with trembling hands and a heart full of fear — but also a spark of hope.

And for the first time in her life, Maira wasn’t running away.

She was finally walking towards something.

Her story wasn’t over.

It was just beginning.

Maira was now stepping into the unknown, with fear still in her chest, but something bigger guiding her: hope. She was scared but excited as well for her new beginning what is goin to happen in her life?

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