Zaria sank deeper into the plush seat of the airplane as it roared down the runway. Her heart pounded wildly, beating louder than the sound of the engines. This was it — the moment that would carry her across skies she had never imagined, to a land where help awaited. Yet fear and doubt bubbled within her chest.
Through the window, she watched the tiny world she knew shrink until it was just a patchwork of fields and roads. Memories surged — moments of pain, nights of cold and hunger, the sting of the lash across her back. But there, buried deep, was a tiny ember of strength. An ember that refused to be extinguished.
As the airplane leveled out, Zaria pulled a worn piece of paper from the folds of her dress. It was the letter she had hastily written for Linda before leaving, a promise to a friend who felt more like a sister.
A sting of tears blurred thewords. The thought of Linda — the warmth of her hand, the quiet strength she offered — kept Zaria grounded.
"Are you alright?" a soft voice came from beside her. It was one of the nurses, a warm smile on her face and kind eyes that promised safety.
Zaria wiped at her cheeks quickly. "Yes," she said quietly, brushing the edges of the paper. "I was just… thinking of a friend."
The nurse smiled and pulled a blanket closer around Zaria's frail frame. "You are very brave," she said, brushing hair away from Zaria's forehead. "We will take very good care of you. You are in safe hands now."
Safe hands. The words felt foreign, yet hopeful.
The rest of the flight passed in a quiet blur. Sometimes Zaria watched the tiny screen in the seat in front of her, seeing places and faces she didn't recognize. At other times, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine what a life beyond pain would feel like. What it would be like to walk unaided, to run across a field of flowers, to live without fear.
Several hours later, the plane descended, its wheels kissing the tarmac with a jolt that pulled Zaria from her thoughts. The doors opened, and she was wheeled out into a world that felt different in every way. The air was crisp, and a quiet warmth embraced her. Everything was orderly, clean, and bustling with quiet efficiency.
A team of doctors and staff were waiting. They spoke quickly in a language she didn't understand, but their gestures were calm and reassuring. The nurse who had been with her throughout the journey stayed by her side, holding her hand as they moved towards an ambulance that would take her to the hospital.
Through the windows of the ambulance, Zaria watched a city unlike any she had ever seen. Tall buildings winked with lights, orderly traffic surged along wide highways, and people strolled along pavements with an air of purpose. This was a place where promises were made and kept.
At the hospital, Zaria was settled into a room that felt more like a hotel than any hospital she had ever imagined. The walls were a soft cream, and the bed was crisp and inviting. A bouquet of flowers sat on the bedside table, a card attached that read, "Welcome, Zaria. You're going to be okay."
A doctor came in shortly after, introducing herself as Dr. Sharma. She spoke slowly, making sure Zaria understood every word. "We have your test results, and the team will review your case tonight. You'll have surgery in a couple of days. We'll do everything we can for you, Zaria. You're safe now."
Safe. The word wrapped itself around her heart like a warm shawl. She had longed for it, fought for it, and tonight — here, in a room far from the only world she had ever known — she felt it brushing the edges of her tired, wounded soul.
As the doctor left, the nurse drew the blinds slightly and smiled. "Rest now, Zaria. We'll be here if you need anything."
Left alone, she sank into the pillows and pulled the blanket closer. The hum of the air conditioning and the quiet beeping of medical equipment felt like a strange lullaby. But for the first time in a long while, Zaria felt hopeful. Not the hopeful desperation of a child dreaming for miracles, but the quiet, steady hope of someone who had been granted a second chance.
She closed her eyes. The words she had scrawled across its surface felt like a promise — to herself, to Linda, and to the girl she had been for too long.
Tomorrow was a new day. A new chapter. A chance for a future that was hers to claim.
For tonight, Zaria allowed herself the luxury of a deep, peaceful breath. And in that breath came strength. In that breath came belonging. In that breath came life.