Reflect
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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, May 10, 2016
Kyra plays in her head a lot. Nobody really thought much of it - at least, they didn't until there were consequences. She has a hard time describing her "abilities;" alter egos and inter-dimensional travel are difficult concepts for a third-grader. But she knows the rules. She knows them well enough to know when they've been broken.
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Kyra grew up in a house that looked like joy and echoed like grief. A home full of rooms, relatives, rituals..everything but the space to feel. From the outside, it was the picture of tradition and love. On the inside, it was a slow, unspoken undoing. She wasn't the daughter who made people proud. She didn't fit the mold-didn't color inside the lines, didn't walk softly. She broke things. Laughed too loudly. Felt too much. And for that, she became the problem no one could name but everyone could feel. This is a story of a girl who tried to stay alive in a place that only wanted her quiet. Told in fragments, like how we remember people we failed. Told in echoes, like how grief haunts even after the body is gone. Told not because it ends in hope but because it matters that it happened. A story about the kind of love that suffocates. About families that feed you but never see you. About how the brightest children can disappear while everyone's looking. She was ten when she thought she had the whole world. She was twenty-one when she realised no one ever truly saw her. And by then, it was already too late.

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