[Chapter 1]

      ⭐ Trapped in the Same Cycle ⭐

I woke up with a loud thud.

For a second, I thought something had fallen in my room—but no. It was just my parents. Again.

Things crashing. Voices raised. Words thrown sharper than whatever they were breaking this time.

Honestly, I didn’t even flinch.

It’s become so normal in this house that silence feels more unsettling than noise.

This time, it was my dad who crossed the line. He smashed my mom’s favourite vase—the one she bought just last week and guarded like it was something fragile enough to fall apart with a single touch. She barely let anyone go near it.

Not that I ever understood why.

It was ugly as hell.

And expensive.

She had spent a ridiculous amount of money on it—money we didn’t exactly have lying around. I remember her smiling when she brought it home, like it meant something more than just glass.

Now it was gone.

Just like that.

Still… none of this was new.

They’ll make up by evening. They always do.

Like nothing ever happened.

I rubbed my eyes, letting out a slow yawn before dragging myself out of bed.

The heat hit me the moment I stepped out of my room. Summer had officially arrived—no warning, no mercy. I took a cold shower, hoping it would wake me up, but it barely helped.

Those cozy mornings wrapped in blankets?

Yeah. Gone.

Not coming back anytime before November.

I slipped into my school uniform and started braiding my hair, tying the ends with red ribbons.

Why?

Because apparently, this is what discipline looks like.

Neat braids. Proper ribbons. No room for choice.

And it’s not just my school—it’s almost every school here. Rules, rules, and more rules. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if they focused even half as much on actually improving how we learn.

But I guess appearances matter more.

I checked the time.

11:00 a.m.

My van comes at 11:20.

Great.

I’m early.

Now I have to wait.

Board exams.

That’s all anyone has been talking about lately.

Teachers. Relatives. Neighbours. Even random aunties who suddenly remember I exist.

“How much did you score last time?”

“You’re in 10th now, right?”

“Focus on your future.”

It’s like my entire life has been reduced to a percentage.

A number.

Nothing more.

I walked up to the mirror and stared at myself.

Same face.

Same tired eyes.

Nothing special.

Just another student trying to survive.

I tried to smile.

It didn’t last long.

The house had gone quiet.

That meant they’d stopped fighting.

Which meant they’d made up.

Again.

I could already picture it—sitting together, talking normally… maybe even laughing. Like the shouting, the breaking, the anger—none of it ever existed.

It’s funny how things reset so easily here.

Or maybe it’s just easier to pretend.

I picked up my bag and checked it again.

Books? Check.

Notebook? Check.

Pens? Extra pens? Yeah.

I don’t even know why I’m this nervous.

It’s just school.

Same building. Same classrooms. Same routine.

So why does it feel… different?

Maybe it’s the pressure.

Maybe it’s the expectations.

Or maybe it’s just me.

Overthinking.

As usual.

A horn blared outside, pulling me out of my thoughts.

My van.

Right on time.

I took a deep breath, slung my bag over my shoulder, and walked toward the door.

The heat wrapped around me the moment I stepped outside, thick and suffocating.

“Here we go,” I muttered.

Another year.

Another routine.

Another chance to either mess everything up…

or somehow make it through.

I locked the door behind me and walked toward the van, ignoring the strange, heavy feeling in my chest.

I don’t know why—

but something tells me

this year isn’t going to be as ordinary as I’m pretending it is.

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