The mirror in Lila’s room didn’t lie, but it didn’t tell the truth either. Every morning,
when she leaned in close, she saw the same pair of hazel eyes staring back, filled
with questions no one else seemed to hear. She would touch the glass sometimes,
wondering if another version of her was trapped inside, trying to break free.
Lila wasn’t unhappy, not exactly. But she wasn’t alive the way she wanted to be
either. School was a blur of voices, her friends spoke about things that felt far away
from her heart, and even the hobbies she once loved—painting, reading, climbing
trees—sat in the corner of her life gathering dust.
She felt lost, not in the world, but in herself.
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