Waking up in a new place felt strange.
The bed was too soft, the air too still. The silence clung to the walls like a secret. For a while, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, wondering if it was all a dream.
This was my own room. My own bed. My own space.
I should have smiled. Maybe even screamed in joy. But I didn't. I just lay still, my chest rising and falling, uncertain.
For the first time in my life, there were no cracked walls around me. No faint echoes of voices shouting for me to wash plates or sweep the compound. No sound of neighbours dragging plastic buckets across cement floors. Just curtains clean ones that swayed when the wind passed. The kind you only see in films.
I wanted to breathe deeply to let it sink in. But something in me held back.
POV: When you're too used to being shouted at, silence feels like walking on eggshells.
Freedom had come too fast, and I didn't know what to do with it.
Uncle Benny's home was everything mine wasn't quiet, clean, and filled with the kind of calm that felt almost sacred. He was warm and soft spoken, always asking if I was okay, always offering help before I even asked. A prayer answered, I told myself.
POV: Not knowing it was misfortune's answer. Who would have known.
He took me around the city like a tour guide showing me the theatre house, the city library, the market, the museum, even a quiet café he liked to sit in. It felt like a movie scene. Somewhere in my chest, a part of me uncurled.
Life here moved differently. Faster. Cleaner. The schools, the parks, the hospitals everything seemed structured, like someone had drawn it with a ruler. Everyone was busy. Everyone had somewhere to be. The envelope was welcoming.
But would it welcome me? I think it'll.
His son, Josh, barely spoke to me. Older than me by far, he stayed out of the house for most of the day, and when he was around, he passed by like a ghost. Cold eyes. Quiet shoulders. I guessed he wasn't used to sharing his father with anyone or that's nature. Maybe he thought I was here to take something away or still trying to learning with additional family members.
But I wasn't here for anyone's space. I was here for my own breath and I'm determined to make the best of it.
And even if he never came around, I'd still find my way to talk with him. Because nothing not cold stares or silent walls was going to stop me from settling in here.
POV: I've lived in worse. I can survive silence.
One quiet afternoon, Uncle Benny told me we'd go out to get some things for school. You'll need clothes, books, maybe a good pair of shoes, he said.
The mall felt too clean. Too open. Too bright. I remember staring at the polished floors, too shy to walk with confidence. Uncle Benny picked out some clothes for me simple, neat. The kind of clothes I used to stare at through glass displays.
When we got home, I held the bag tightly, opened it slowly, and pressed my face to the fabric. when I went inside my room I tired everything out over again. It smelled like new beginnings. Like starch, plastic, and something unfamiliar but good.
POV: The smell of new clothes should not make someone want to cry. But it did. when last was I given new clothes?
Uncle Benny promised to get me into a school before the new session began. It was all happening so fast, but I didn't want to blink and miss it. Just imagining it a fresh start in a new school, in a new city, with new people felt unreal.
In the meantime, I stayed home, helped with little chores, and discovered the library.
That library became my favourite place in the world. I didn't know I loved reading until I started doing it every day. It became my escape, my company, my quiet rebellion. The more I read, the more something inside me softened. I was starting to breathe.
Some days I went on short walks not too far, just enough to feel like I belonged outside. On one of those walks, I met a group of kids about my age. We started talking, then laughing. I told them I was new in the city, waiting to start school. When I mentioned the school's name, they exchanged looks and smiled.
That's our school too, one of them said.
They used that opportunity to given me a prep of what the looks like, the history and the don't and doesn't.
I was drawn to every piece of the prep waiting to know more and experience it myself.
A click. Quiet, but real.
Some of them weren't living with their parents either. Some had been in the city longer than me, already used to the way things worked. But they understood.
And sometimes, understanding is louder than words.
Uncle Benny came back one evening with a quiet smile and said, It's done.
The registration.
I was officially enrolled.
I couldn't thank him enough. He told me he'll give me a new life and he did .
I wanted to cry and dance at the same time. I couldn't wait to wear my clothes, hold my books, and walk into school like I had always belonged there. I wished the people back home could see me now.
The night before school began, I sat by the window and watched the sky change colours. No shouting voices. No footsteps rushing past my door. Just the hum of the city far away, soft and distant, like it didn't know I existed. But I existed. I was here. And maybe that was enough for now. I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling again but this time, I smiled.
POV: Hope came in whispers. But I heard it.
I was ready or at least I thought I was.