Every morning, she woke up with a heart heavier than her backpack. She was the youngest in her family, and although everyone loved her, she quietly believed she was a burden. Her books lay open on the desk, but her mind wandered far away. She studied because she had to, not because she wanted to.
Some days, she imagined disappearing. Not forever just to a place where no one knew her name. A small cabin hidden between mountains and forests, where the only sounds were birds, rivers, and the wind through the trees. There, she thought, she could finally breathe without worrying about exams, expectations, or disappointing anyone.
But dreams ended when the alarm rang.
Reality waited with thick textbooks, early morning clinical postings, long hospital shifts, and another chapter to memorize. She often questioned whether she was strong enough for four more years. The road seemed endless.
One evening, after a difficult day, she sat alone and watched the sunset paint the sky. She realized something simple: mountains are beautiful because they stand through every storm. Forests grow because they survive every season. Maybe people are not so different.
Her life was not easy, and tomorrow would probably be just as hard. She still felt afraid. She still doubted herself. Yet she understood that running away would only change the scenery, not the struggle inside her.
So she packed her books again. She would wake up tomorrow, attend her clinical posting, study even when she had no motivation, and keep walking one step at a time.
She did not know what her future looked like.
But she knew one truth.
She had to survive these four years not perfectly, not fearlessly, but without giving up.