Title: Trauma of Life
By [quratulain khan ]
Areesha Khalid was just sixteen when she realized that home wasn't always where the heart is. Sometimes, it's the place that breaks you the most.
She grew up in a house where silence screamed louder than words. Her parents were always busy — not with work, but with fights. Every night ended with slamming doors and muffled cries. Areesha used to hide under her blanket, wishing the walls could melt and take her away.
School wasn't any better. Her classmates laughed at her dark circles and quiet nature. "You look dead," they mocked. No one ever asked why she looked tired or why she sat alone. Teachers only cared about grades. And Areesha? She was drowning — in expectations, in pressure, in loneliness.
She never felt enough.
Her body was judged. She wasn't thin enough, tall enough, pretty enough. Social media fed her lies about beauty, and she believed them. Every mirror became a battlefield. Every reflection, a reminder of who she wasn't.
Then came Him. Rayyan.
The only person who noticed her silence. Who smiled at her when she had forgotten how to smile. They talked for hours — about books, stars, fears, and dreams. For once, she felt visible. But happiness, for her, always came with a timer. Rayyan moved away. No goodbye. No explanation. Just an empty space where her heart used to live.
Depression crept in quietly, like a shadow. She stopped eating. Stopped talking. Nights became enemies, and mornings became heavier. She wanted to disappear — not die, just vanish. To not be seen. To not feel.
But one day, everything changed.
She was sitting alone in the school library when a teacher — not her teacher, just someone passing by — placed a note beside her:
"You don't have to be loud to be strong. I see you. The world is better because you exist."
That one line was like oxygen to her drowning soul.
That day, she cried. Not because she was broken, but because someone saw her in her invisibility.
From that moment, Areesha began to fight.
She started journaling her pain. She read about mental health. She joined an online support group. She talked — not loudly, but honestly. She began healing. Not all at once, not magically — but slowly, like the sun melting snow.
She didn't forgive everyone. She didn't forget everything. But she chose herself.
Years later, standing on a stage as a youth counselor, Areesha shared her story with trembling hands and a steady heart. She looked at the crowd of young faces and said,
"Pain doesn't define you. It shapes you. You're not weak for feeling. You're strong for surviving. And you, my dear, are not alone."
The applause was thunderous. But the real victory was inside her — the little girl who once hid under the blanket… was now standing in light.