Teenage Feelings

Anim stared at her textbooks, the words blurring into a meaningless mess. It was Sunday—supposedly a day of rest—but for her, it was just another reminder of the pressure she couldn't escape. Her parents expected nothing less than perfection. "You need to work harder, Anim. Ninth grade isn't a joke," her father had said that morning, his voice laced with expectations she had no choice but to meet.

Her phone buzzed. It was Ayera.

Ayera: Come out for a bit. Let's breathe.

Anim hesitated. She could already hear the disappointment in her parents' voices if they found out. But a part of her ached for fresh air, for laughter, for something other than the crushing weight of responsibility.

Taking a deep breath, she typed back: Where?

Minutes later, Anim and Ayera sat by the lake, watching the ripples dance under the golden afternoon sun. It felt strange, sitting there, doing nothing. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn't rushing to meet a deadline or drowning in notes. She was just…existing.

"You okay?" Ayera asked, tossing a pebble into the water.

Anim exhaled. "I don't know. I feel like I'm always running but never getting anywhere. Like I can't stop, because if I do, everything will fall apart."

Ayera nodded. "I get it. But Anim… you're allowed to stop. Even for a little while."

Anim looked at her, really looked at her. Ayera's eyes held no judgment, only understanding. And for the first time in a long time, Anim let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't alone in this.

As the sun began to set, Anim stood up, feeling lighter than she had in months. "I should go back."

Ayera smiled. "Promise me something?"

"What?"

"Don't let them take this part of you away. The part that laughs, the part that dreams. You deserve more than just expectations, Anim. You deserve to live."

Something tightened in Anim's chest—something raw, something real. She didn't know if she could change overnight, but as she walked home, she knew one thing: she wasn't going to lose herself anymore.

And sometimes, that was enough to begin again.

As soon as Anim stepped through the front door, she felt it—the tension hanging in the air like an unspoken threat. Her mother stood in the kitchen, stirring a pot absentmindedly, while her father sat on the couch, his gaze sharp as it landed on her.

"Where were you?" he asked, his voice unnervingly calm.

Anim swallowed. "I went out for a little while… with Ayera."

Her mother sighed, shaking her head. "Anim, we've talked about this. You can't afford to waste time. Do you know how much competition there is? You need to study, not wander around."

"I just needed a break," Anim said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Just for a little while."

Her father stood up, his frustration barely contained. "Breaks are for people who have achieved something! You think life will wait for you? You think a little fresh air will help you succeed? No, Anim. Hard work does that. Discipline does that."

Something inside her cracked. "And what about happiness? Doesn't that matter?"

A stunned silence followed. Her father stared at her as if she had spoken in a foreign language. Her mother pursed her lips, looking away.

"You'll understand when you're older," her father finally said, dismissing her emotions with a wave of his hand. "Now go study."

Anim clenched her fists, feeling the weight of her own helplessness. She turned and walked to her room, slamming the door behind her.