The next day, Kana sat on her bed with her legs crossed, a pen in her right hand and both her phone and journal resting on her lap. Her expression was calm, but focused. She was getting ready to write.
After her heartwarming conversation with John and Rose the night before, she had spent hours thinking everything over. The uncertainty that once clouded her mind had slowly faded away. By the time morning came, her decision was made.
She was going to enter the writing competition.
She didn't want to look back and regret not taking a chance on something that felt right. The more she thought about it, the more it excited her. There was something beautiful about sharing her words, her story with the world, and the idea had started to sound fun. A part of her even felt like she owed it to herself to at least try.
So, the first thing she did was scroll back to that comment thread she had seen a few days ago and tap on the post advertising the writing competition. That post led her to the official contest page…
****
[Twibbler Post: Sponsored Ad – Featured Post]
"The 5th Annual Voices Unheard Youth Writing Contest"
Your Words. Your Story. Your Power.
Are you a young writer between the ages of 13 and 18?
Have something to say the world hasn't heard yet?
This is your moment.
We're looking for heartfelt poems, personal essays, and short stories under 2,000 words. The theme this year is:
"Light in the Dark"
What gives you hope, even in your loneliest moments?
Three Categories:
Poetry
Prose (Short Story)
Dramatic Monologue / Personal Essay
Grand Prize (per category):
$10,000 cash & a scholarship
Live reading at the National Youth Writing Summit
1-on-1 mentorship with a published author
And… your work will be featured in a collaborative poetry & prose collection—
"Voices Unheard: Youth Echoes"
(co-authored with the winners of each category and professionally published)
Deadline: February 19, 11:59 PM
Submit at: www.voicesunheardcontest.org
Use #VoicesUnheard20XX to join the conversation.
Let the world hear you. Let the silence break.
****
Kana looked at the theme of the competition and grinned. It was something she could definitely work with.
Kana: Huh. It doesn't seem too hard.
She glanced at the corner of her phone screen and read the date aloud.
Kana: January 20th. I still have time. Let's do this!!
With her heart racing and a spark of inspiration glowing inside her, Kana set her phone aside. She straightened her posture, exhaled a breath of determination, and placed her pen against the page.
She was ready to write.
****
Two hours passed.
Kana was still sitting in the same exact position, but the spark in her eyes had dulled. Her journal remained open on her lap, its pages still blank. Her fingers clutched the pen, but it barely moved. Her face was a mixture of confusion, frustration, and deep disappointment.
Despite the energy and confidence she had felt earlier, something was off. She had written dozens of lines, tried a handful of different openings, and even explored multiple angles of the theme, but nothing felt right.
Crumpled papers surrounded her bed like fallen leaves, each one carrying a version of a poem she didn't like.
Kana: Maybe I can use some of the poems I've already written? I've written over a hundred of them… so I should be fine…
She was, in fact, not fine.
Kana flipped through her old journals, rereading the many poems she had poured her heart into over the past year. But somehow, not a single one of them seemed to fit. Some felt too distant. Others felt incomplete. None captured the feeling she was hoping to share.
She sighed heavily and dropped the journal beside her. Then she groaned, grabbing fistfuls of her hair in frustration.
Kana: What is this?! I can't seem to come up with anything, and none of the poems I've written feel right!! Is this… what they call writer's block?!
For a moment, she wondered if she was just being too dramatic. Maybe she needed a break. She took a deep breath, then another. Slowly, she set her pen and phone aside and leaned back slightly, staring into space.
Her mind floated into silence. Not thinking of anything in particular. Just… pausing.
Kana: Maybe I'm trying to force it out… maybe that's why it seems like I can't think of anything right now. I'm sure something will come to me eventually…
She hoped that was true.
But unfortunately, the situation remained unchanged three days later.
*******
The classroom was rowdy, just like it had always been, despite the fact that the students were supposed to be preparing for their second mock exams, scheduled to take place in just two weeks. Perhaps they all thought they had the luxury of time. Perhaps they believed two weeks was enough to turn things around.
So, as expected, most people continued chatting with their friends, laughing loudly, trading notes casually, while a few others tried to read their books amidst the chaos.
But the rowdiness didn't affect Liam.
He sat silently at his desk, isolated in his own world, with his earpiece plugged into his phone. The soft, melancholic notes of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata played in his ears, drowning out all the noise surrounding him. The chaos of the classroom faded into the background.
And still, despite the music, despite the distance he put between himself and everyone else, the dead look remained in his eyes, the same one he had carried since the beginning of the second term.
As he stared blankly at the wooden desk in front of him, the haunting piano notes triggered a memory; a memory he had tried, again and again, to forget.
A sad one.
One that refused to let him go.
One that weighed heavily on him with guilt, regret, and something even darker.
The music seemed to swell in his ears as the memory grew sharper. The sound became louder, more aggressive, more consuming, as if the music was aware of his thoughts and was punishing him for them.
A vivid image then appeared in his mind:
Himself, standing in front of a grand piano on a brightly lit stage. The audience was large, hundreds of people, all watching, all expecting something extraordinary from him.
He remembered the pressure, the intensity of it, the way his hands had trembled just before they touched the keys.
And then… In the middle of that memory, he saw her.
A girl with blonde hair and a charming, unforgettable smile.
Her face in the crowd reached him, like a light trying to cut through the darkness and in that instant, it was as if time stopped.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Liam slowly removed the earpiece from his ears. The sudden return of the classroom noise felt like being thrown back into a world he didn't want to be a part of. He thought maybe it would help to stop listening to the music.
But it didn't.
The images kept flashing in his mind, uninvited and unrelenting. The music still echoed in his head, like ghost notes, as if the earpiece was still in.
His face, which once blank and emotionless, now showed something much deeper, a mix of intense regret and profound sadness.
Liam: (to himself) Maybe it's better that I'm not here…
He pulled out his phone slowly, his fingers trembling just slightly, and opened the Internet browser. There was hesitation at first, but then his fingers began to type.
Words no one ever imagined someone would type unless they had truly lost hope.
"Different ways to ____ myself…"
He hit enter.
But what appeared on the screen wasn't what he expected.
Instead, the top results showed phone numbers for suicide prevention, links to mental health websites, and the location of the nearest psychiatric hospital. Help was being offered.
But it wasn't what he was searching for.
Liam: (to himself) Damn it…
Frustrated, he quickly exited the browser, trying to hide what he had done. But just as he was about to slide his phone back into his pocket, he felt someone standing behind him.
Slowly, he turned to glance over his shoulder, and saw John.
John's eyes were on him, and for a brief moment, Liam thought he noticed something… something in John's expression that suggested he'd seen what Liam was looking at.
Liam opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, but John spoke first.
John: Oh, don't mind me… I needed to pass here to get to my seat.
Liam didn't react and he kept his face unreadable, carefully neutral.
Liam: Oh… okay.
He watched John walk away casually, back to his desk where Ivan and Joseph were waiting for him. The three of them immediately launched into conversation, laughing about something Liam couldn't hear.
And in that moment, the image of the girl returned.
Her smile.
That light.
Gone.
Liam lowered his head slightly as his gaze lingered on the three boys. He saw the connection they shared, the comfort, the ease, the warmth.
And then, he acknowledged what had been haunting him the most.
Liam: Huh… it must be really nice… having friends who care.
*******
3:00 PM rolled in, and the school finally closed for the day.
As the final bell rang, the school gate quickly became crowded with students and staff pouring out, eager to get on with their day, whether that meant heading home, meeting up with friends, or simply escaping the exhausting routine of academic life.
Everyone seemed to have a destination, everyone except Liam.
He moved quietly, like a shadow drifting among the masses, unnoticed and untouched. With his bag slung over his shoulder and his expression still unreadable, he took his usual route home, a path he could probably walk with his eyes closed at this point.
The air was slightly chilly, the late afternoon breeze brushing against his face as he neared the edge of the road, where a zebra crossing stood guarded by a pair of traffic lights.
Just as he reached it, the signal changed. The red hand blinked, warning all pedestrians to stop and cars began to move, tires screeching faintly against asphalt as traffic resumed.
Liam stood there silently and he looked up at the small digital countdown attached to the traffic light.
"42 seconds."
That's how long he had to wait before it would be safe to cross again.
With a small sigh, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He attempted to plug in his earpiece, intending to listen to something, anything that could drown out the thoughts creeping back into his mind.
Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. That's what he wanted to hear.
But the moment he tapped the screen, the phone vibrated softly in his hand… then went dark.
The battery was dead.
Liam stared at it for a moment, then sighed again, this time with more annoyance than usual and slid it back into his pocket.
And so, he waited, surrounded by the soft sounds of distant engines and murmuring footsteps.
The timer ticked down.
35 seconds… 30… 25…
At 15 seconds, something caught his attention.
To his right, he saw a massive truck approaching at a steady pace, preparing to pass through the intersection before the signal would change again.
He turned his head slightly to follow its movement—
And in that moment…
Something clicked.
It wasn't something loud or obvious.
It was subtle. A silent, internal snap that unleashed a cascade of images in his head, all flooding in at once like a dam had just broken open.
A hospital report… White paper. Bold red stamps. Words he didn't want to read.
Himself on stage, playing the piano… His fingers trembling as they danced across the keys, Moonlight Sonata… Echoing in his mind again, louder than it had ever been… A crowd watching… His browser history…The things he searched when no one was watching.
And then… her… The blonde girl with the charming smile.
Her voice cutting through the noise, sweet and soft like a lullaby.
"Liam… that was just the first part. I'll give you the second part when you participate in the winter event… okay?"
That memory, those words, that smile… It was too much.
It was always too much.
And those words, innocent and hopeful at the time, now felt like a cruel joke, like a promise that would never be fulfilled.
His breath hitched, his chest tightened and his eyes, which had long been void of emotion, flickered with something—
Desperation.
He turned his head again, glancing toward the approaching truck.It was close now… very close.
He glanced back at the timer on the traffic light.
"5 seconds."
He looked around. The crowd had dispersed. Most people had already crossed earlier or weren't paying attention.
There weren't many people nearby.
No one who would notice. No one would stop him.
He took one deep breath, his fingers clenched and his jaw tightened.
And then… he stepped forward, out onto the road into the path of the truck, just as it was about to pass.