𝑆𝐸𝐶𝑅𝐸𝑇𝑆 𝐵𝐸𝑁𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝑈𝑅𝐹𝐴𝐶𝐸

Ten

I groaned as I inhaled my fourth puff of my blunt in the school bathroom, the smoke swirling around me as I leaned against the cold, graffiti-covered wall. My nerves were a mess, and this was the only way I could cope at the moment. The weight of everything had been crushing, but at least today, I wasn't making myself suffer. For once, I wasn't pushing myself to the edge. I had been eating full meals without forcing them back up, and I hadn't felt weak for days. I wasn't sure how long this would last, but I was taking it one day at a time.

I had every reason to punish myself for the things Aaliyah had done to me, for all the heartbreak and lies. But I realized it wasn't my fault. I wasn't the one who had betrayed her. It wasn't my responsibility to carry that weight. My brother had talked to me about finding peace through prayer and discernment, reminding me that I needed to let go of the guilt I had been carrying around for far too long. It hadn't been easy to process, but I was doing better than I expected. In fact, it shocked me. I hadn't felt this stable in months.

"Pass that shit, Ken," Marcus said from beside me, interrupting my thoughts. He had a nonchalant look on his face, like he didn't have a care in the world. He knew how I was feeling, how much I was carrying on my shoulders, but Marcus had a way of making everything seem less heavy.

Kamiya's POV:

"I love it!" Ms. Patterson exclaimed, her voice loud with excitement. She was standing in front of my painting, her eyes wide in awe as she took in the detail of the piece. I had spent hours on it, but it was worth it to see her reaction. It was my favorite scene from Twilight—the beautiful, mysterious dark forest where Bella had her first real moment of connection with Edward. I had poured so much of myself into it, trying to capture the eerie, calming feeling the scene gave me.

"Thank you, Ms. Patterson," I smiled, feeling the warmth of her praise sink into my bones.

It had only been three weeks since I'd moved here, but I was starting to feel like I belonged. I still missed Houston, missed the rhythm of life there, but things were different now. I had been forced to adjust, to leave behind the only home I had known. And it wasn't just Houston I missed—it was my father. I missed him more than I could put into words. He had passed away suddenly, and nothing had felt the same since. My father had been everything to me—more than just a parent, he had been my best friend, the one I confided in. We had always been close, but his loss had left an unbearable void.

Since then, every day had been a struggle. I found it hard to get out of bed, to care about anything. I had to force myself to go through the motions, to show up for school, even when my heart wasn't in it. But art had been my escape, my way of reconnecting with myself. When I painted, I could breathe again, if only for a moment.

My mom had been struggling too. She and I had always had a good relationship, but since Dad died, it felt like she was unraveling. I tried to be strong for her, to hold it together, but I was only 17. I wasn't ready to bear the weight of her pain, her emotional breakdowns. I loved her, I really did, but I was still a kid myself, dealing with my own grief. And as the only child in the house, I was the one she leaned on when things got hard. Sometimes it felt like I was carrying the world on my shoulders.

It wasn't that I didn't want to help her—I did—but there were times when I just couldn't handle it. I didn't have the strength to carry both of our burdens. I was struggling, and I needed someone to lean on too. But there was no one.

Later, as I sat alone in the lunchroom, pushing my food around on my plate, I thought about everything that had led me here. I wasn't sure how to deal with all of it—my father's death, moving to a new city, trying to make new friends, and everything else in between. Some days, I felt like I was drowning in it all. But moments like this, when I was lost in my art, I felt a little lighter. Maybe, just maybe, things would get better.