Nadia blinks, her vision swimming as she struggles to make sense of her surroundings. Her body feels heavy, her limbs sluggish, yet the sensation of warmth and familiarity wraps around her like a comforting blanket. Slowly, the haze clears, and she realizes she’s sitting on an old bed.
She looks around, her breath catching in her throat. It’s her old room, yet it’s not. The walls are painted a soft lavender, a color she had begged for as a young girl, but the childish posters and stuffed animals are gone, replaced by sleek bookshelves and video game systems. Her desk is laden with textbooks and notebooks, neat and orderly, as if she’s been studying diligently.
Her fingers trail over the bedspread; it has an elegant design of silver and green that feels like it belongs to someone else, yet it fits her perfectly. A part of her feels uneasy, but another part, deeper and quieter, whispers that this is where she belongs.
