Teen

I woke up that morning like any other, the sun filtering through the thin curtains of my bedroom window, casting a warm glow over the patchwork quilt my grandma had made years ago. Living out in the country meant everything was quiet—too quiet sometimes. No bustling streets, no crowds of kids my age. Just me, my parents on their small farm, and the endless fields stretching out like a green ocean. I was 18 now, technically an adult, but I felt like I was still that little girl who’d never ventured far from home. Homeschooled until high school, I’d only started attending the local public school last year, and even then, I kept to myself. Shy didn’t begin to cover it; I blushed at the slightest attention, my voice barely above a whisper in class. …

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