Beneath The Surface

Something A Little Different

I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling as the soft glow of my lamp spills across the room. Therapy plays on a loop in my mind—Dr. Martins’ calm voice, Mom’s proud smile. Their words feel distant but... possible.

What if I could change everything? Be someone else, someone better?

I let out a small laugh at the thought. It’s ridiculous. But still, the idea stays. Happy Sam. Carefree Sam. A version of me that doesn’t feel so heavy all the time.

“Why not?” I whisper to no one.

When I wake up the next morning, sunlight pours through my window, and I feel... different. My chest doesn’t ache the way it usually does, and my head feels a little clearer.

I throw off the covers and head straight for the shower, the hot water pounding against my back. It’s like washing off everything that’s been weighing me down.

Afterward, I stand in front of my mirror, towel wrapped around me, staring at my reflection. My curls hang in messy tangles, but instead of just throwing them up into a lazy bun, I grab my brush and straightener.

“Okay,” I tell myself. “Let’s try something new.”

It takes longer than I expect, but eventually, my hair is smooth, pulled back into a sleek bun. I rummage through my closet, skipping past my usual hoodies and jeans. Today calls for something better.

I pull out a floral dress I haven’t worn in forever and pair it with my Prada boots—the ones I always thought were too bold for me. A quick swipe of gloss, and when I step back, I hardly recognize myself.

For the first time in ages, I smile at my reflection. “Happy Sam,” I say, grabbing my bag and heading downstairs.

The smell of coffee greets me as I walk into the kitchen. Mom sits at the table with her mug, flipping through a magazine. She looks up when she hears me, and her mouth falls open slightly.

“Good morning!” I say, pouring myself a glass of orange juice.

Mom sets her mug down, staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Morning...? Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I grin, grabbing some toast.

“You look... different.” Her voice is cautious, as if she doesn’t want to scare me off.

“Thanks,” I say, grabbing a seat at the table. “I just felt like switching it up today.”

Mom narrows her eyes slightly, studying me. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“Nope. Just thought it was time for a change.” I shrug, taking a bite of my toast.

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, but then her face softens into a smile. “Well, I love it. You look beautiful, Samara.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, feeling a blush creep up my neck.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” she asks again, her voice softer now.

“I’m better than okay,” I say, finishing my juice. “Just trying something new.”

Her smile widens, and she nods. “I like this version of you. She’s glowing.”

I laugh, grabbing my bag. “Well, I gotta run. Love you!”

“Love you too!” she calls as I head for the door.

Outside, the cool morning air brushes against my skin, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I take a deep breath.

Today feels different. I feel different.