Bibxy stood at the airport window, her fingers tracing invisible lines on the cold glass. Planes came and went, but all she could hear was the echo of her parents' last argument—the one that shattered everything.
It had started with silence, the kind that stretches across dinner tables and sinks into the walls. Then came the shouting. Then her father's bags by the door. Then… nothing. A void. Her world split into two.
Her mother didn't cry. Not once. She packed up their lives with quiet efficiency and a thousand yard-stares, said goodbye to the house Bibxy grew up in, and booked two one-way tickets out of the country. Just like that, they were gone—leaving behind pain, comfort, and familiarity.
Now here she was, in a place where the air smelled different and the voices had strange rhythms. A new country. A new beginning. Her mother had chosen this place like a second chance wrapped in an unfamiliar sky. "You'll like it here," she had said on the plane, eyes glassy but hopeful. "Clean slate."
University was meant to be her reset button. A place to stop being the girl with a broken home and start being someone else—someone whole. But as the taxi wound its way through a quiet, tree-lined street toward campus, Bibxy felt a weight settle in her chest. A mix of nerves and anticipation. The unknown always carried both.
She arrived on a Sunday. The campus was a blend of old brick buildings and modern glass dorms, crawling with students dragging suitcases and fresh ambition. Bibxy watched them—laughing in clusters, some already snapping selfies in front of the library statue—and wondered how they made it all look so easy.
Her dorm room was on the third floor of Maple Hall. The walls were pale and undecorated, the air smelled faintly of lemon disinfectant, and the window overlooked a courtyard where students played music and shared pizza slices on the grass.
She dropped her bag on the bed closest to the window, claiming it without a word. No roommate yet. Maybe she'd get lucky and have the room to herself.
From her backpack, she pulled out a framed photo—just her and her mom on a beach two years ago, before everything cracked. Their smiles wide, the sky perfect. She placed it carefully on the desk. A reminder that love could still exist, even if it came with scars.
Bibxy stood by the window for a long time, watching the sun dip behind the buildings, casting gold across the courtyard. She didn't know anyone here. No familiar faces. No history. It scared her—but it thrilled her too.
Something about this place felt... different. Not just new, but waiting. Like the air itself held a secret she hadn't been told yet.
Tomorrow, classes would begin. Tomorrow, she would meet people who didn't know her past. Tomorrow, she might start to feel like herself again—or someone better.
But tonight, she let the silence settle around her. A peaceful kind of quiet. The kind that came right before everything changed.