That night, sleep didn't come easily.
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the fan. The room was dark, but my mind was wide awake—filled with the echo of the journey waiting for me in the morning.
My backpack rested near the door like a silent reminder:"Everything changes tomorrow."
The thought was both comforting and frightening.
I closed my eyes, hoping sleep would pull me away from the storm of thoughts, but it didn't. Instead, memories, dreams, and questions drifted around me like shadows.
Would I miss home?Would the world be kind to me?Was I truly ready for this?
Then came images—soft, dream-like thoughts of the places I had always imagined:
Bright city lights.Quiet mountains.Crowded markets.Empty roads stretching into the horizon.
The world felt enormous and mysterious, but also… calling to me.
I turned onto my side and pulled the blanket closer.My heartbeat was slow but strong, like it understood something my brain was still learning:This journey was meant for me.
As my eyes grew heavier, my last waking thought whispered:
"Tomorrow, my life won't be the same."
And finally—slowly, quietly—I slipped into sleep.
In my dreams, I was already walking through new streets, my steps guided by the excitement of a world waiting just beyond sunrise.