Sarah sat by the window of her room, watching the sky melt from orange to purple. The hum of traffic outside, mixed with the dull chatter of her siblings downstairs, faded beneath the calming strum of a guitar instrumental playing in her ears. Her headset cracked at the sides, held together with tape was like armor. No one could reach her when it was on.
Billie Eilish's voice poured in through the speakers, soft and haunted. Sarah leaned back, letting her thoughts unravel like yarn.
Why do I feel this way all the time?
Why do I hate the mirror?
Why does it seem like everyone else fits into the world, and I don't?
She clutched her notebook, the one she never let anyone touch. Inside were lyrics. Her lyrics. Emotions too messy for conversations, too deep for casual tears.
Her pen scratched slowly:
> "They say I'm lovely, but I feel like a ghost in a crowded room."
Downstairs, her mom's voice floated up the stairs. "Sarah, dinner!"
No response.
She pulled the headset tighter.
◆ ◆ ◆
At school the next day, Sarah walked through the halls of Monrie High like she was fading into the walls. Her black oversized hoodie swallowed her frame, her curly afro puffed over the headphones. Eyes glanced her way some curious, some admiring but she never noticed. She didn't want to be seen.
"Sarah!" a voice chirped. Carly.
Carly was everything Sarah wasn't loud, confident, unapologetically bold. Her skirt violated uniform codes daily, her eyeliner always winged, and her phone screen littered with texts from boys with gym selfies and bad intentions.
They hugged, awkwardly.
"You look like you're about to rob the school," Carly teased.
Sarah gave a weak smile. "Thanks."
Carly tilted her head. "I was kidding, girl. You look cool… like a tortured artist. Sexy sad."
Sarah raised an eyebrow. "That's… comforting?"
Carly smirked. "Anyways, I met this new guy after Lit class yesterday Jaden. Senior. Bad boy vibes. He asked for my number and" she paused, noticing Sarah wasn't exactly listening.
Sarah was humming quietly. A guitar instrumental was playing again in her mind.
"Sarah! Hello? Earth to overthinker."
Sarah blinked. "Sorry. I was… never mind."
"You've been weirdly dreamy lately. What's up with you?"
Sarah hesitated, then whispered, "I've been writing music. Kinda. Just little things."
Carly's face lit up. "No way! Let me hear something."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"It's not good. It's just me being weird and emotional."
Carly softened. "Sarah, you're already emotional and weird. But I love you like that."
Sarah rolled her eyes but smiled slightly. It felt good to be seen even if only by one person.
◆ ◆ ◆
That night, Sarah sat on the floor of her room, legs crossed, eyes closed. Her phone propped against a pillow, recording.
She took a breath and sang soft, unsteady, raw:
> "They tell me to smile, so I wear one like armor…
But the mirror knows I'm lying."
When the recording stopped, she played it back.
It wasn't perfect. It was shaky and honest and beautiful.
But her heart raced. She couldn't share this. Not with her family. Not with Carly again.
It was hers. The only part of herself that made sense.
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