Chapter 1: The Storm Inside Yuna
Yuna was not broken, but some days she felt like shattered glass —
soft on the outside, but sharp where no one could see.
In the eyes of the world, she was “just a girl” —
cute, clumsy, always smiling politely...
But inside? She was drowning.
She lived in a house filled with noise, but no one heard her.
People around her talked, advised, judged…
but never listened.
They saw her tears as drama.
Her silence as mood swings.
Her dreams as childish nonsense.
At home, she felt unseen.
At school or college, she felt like a shadow — walking, breathing, smiling...
but invisible.
She didn’t have many friends — not because she didn’t want them,
but because she was too much for some
and not enough for others.
Sometimes her chest felt heavy for no reason.
She would cry quietly in the bathroom,
hug her pillow at night,
and whisper to the ceiling,
"Why am I not enough?"
Her family told her to “grow up.”
Society told her to “be practical.”
But no one asked her, “Are you okay?”
She felt stuck between two worlds —
one that expected her to follow the path laid out for every “normal” girl,
and another world she could only see in her dreams —
of stars, mountains, strange streets, cafés in other cities,
people who didn’t know her past… only her smile.
So one rainy evening, after one more fight at home,
one more tearful nap, one more ache in her chest...
Yuna stood by the window and whispered,
"I can’t live like this anymore.
I want to find myself.
I want to breathe new air.
I want to live... not just survive."
That night, she booked a one-way ticket.
She packed a few clothes, a tiny journal, and a heart full of hurt.
She didn’t know what she was looking for…
but she knew she wouldn’t find it by staying where she was.
Yuna, the dreaming girl, was ready to become
Yuna, the brave girl.
And the world was waiting.
Chapter 2: Her First Breath of Freedom
The train station was noisy.
Children crying, chai vendors shouting, footsteps echoing on the dirty floor.
But for Yuna, it was the quietest her mind had felt in months.
She clutched her small backpack and looked up at the board:
“Platform 3 – Departure to Shimara Hills.”
No one knew where she was going.
Not even she did.
All she knew was — she wanted peace.
And something in the name “Shimara” whispered peace to her soul.
As the train rumbled forward, Yuna leaned against the window.
The city slowly faded… and so did the weight on her heart.
For the first time in forever…
she smiled. A real one.
She passed green fields, sleepy villages, and sun-kissed rivers.
And in that long journey, she began to write in her journal:
> “Dear future me,
I don’t know what you’ll become,
but I hope you’re free,
wild, soft, and full of stories.”
---
Three days later… she arrived in Shimara — a hidden little town nestled between mountains and mist.
The air was cooler here.
The streets were cobbled and narrow, with tiny cafés, bookstores, and strangers who didn’t stare.
It was the kind of place that looked like it had its own secrets.
Yuna loved it instantly.
She found a room at a small homestay run by an old woman who reminded her of her grandmother.
There was a swing in the garden, a dog named Tango, and lemon tea that made her eyes water.
Each morning, she explored — the forests, the markets, the quiet lake at the end of the village.
She laughed.
She got lost.
She took photos.
She breathed.
And then…
on the fifth morning — it happened.
She had gone to a tiny book café called “Paper Trails.”
She ordered a coffee, pulled out her journal, and sat by the window.
And that’s when he walked in.
Messy hair.
Grey hoodie.
A camera hanging from his shoulder.
Eyes like November skies — cool, calm, and hiding storms.
He ordered black coffee, no sugar.
He looked around — and his eyes met hers.
He smiled.
Yuna looked away. Her heart tripped over itself.
She didn’t know it yet…
But that boy was about to change everything.
