Sophie sat cross-legged on her bed, her brow furrowed in concentration. The world beyond her window was bright and ordinary, but inside her mind, thoughts swirled—thoughts that were not entirely her own. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to quiet the chorus of voices that drifted in whenever she let her guard down.
"Not today," she whispered, as if telling the world’s secrets to hush for just one morning. But the thoughts persisted—her mother’s worries about bills, her brother’s excitement for soccer tryouts, and even the neighbor’s irritation about a missing newspaper. It was like living in a crowded room where everyone spoke at once.
Sophie weaved through the hallway, her eyes downcast. Each student she passed brought a new flood of emotions—nerves before a test, secret crushes, arguments left unresolved. She tried to ignore them, focusing on the pattern of tiles beneath her feet.
Lila (Sophie’s best friend, energetic, fiercely loyal) bounced to her side, her ponytail swinging. "Hey, Sophie! Did you finish the science project? You look a little pale—are you okay?"
"Just didn’t sleep well," Sophie replied, masking the truth behind a practiced smile. But she could hear Lila’s inner monologue—worrying, hoping she hadn’t upset her friend.
Sophie closed the door behind her and pressed her forehead against the cool glass. It was her favorite hiding place, where the thoughts of others faded to a gentle hum. Here, she could breathe, and for a moment, just be herself.
"Why me?" she murmured to the empty room. The burden of knowing what everyone felt—what everyone feared—sometimes made her feel impossibly alone. But she knew she couldn’t keep her secret forever.
Lila found Sophie sitting on the edge of the sandbox, knees hugged to her chest. She plopped down next to her, watching the clouds shift overhead.
"You know, you can talk to me about anything," Lila said softly, her voice tinged with genuine concern.
"What if there’s something I can’t explain? Something… strange?" Sophie hesitated, searching her friend’s face for judgment.
"Try me," Lila replied, her eyes unwavering. In that moment, Sophie realized she didn’t have to carry her secret alone.
Sophie sat beside her open window, a gentle breeze lifting the curtains. She replayed the conversation with Lila—how her friend had listened, believed, and promised to help her find a way to live with her gift.
"Maybe it’s not a curse after all," she whispered to the stars. For the first time, the voices felt less overwhelming—like a song she could almost understand.
Sophie walked beside Lila, her steps lighter. She still heard the thoughts of others, but now, she carried them with a little less fear and a little more hope. Surrounded by friends and possibility, she embraced her secret gift—not as a burden, but as a part of who she was becoming.
