The next day could change everything, or change nothing at all, and I’m not sure which is worse.
Sleep doesn’t come easy that night.
Every time I close my eyes, I’m haunted by images of doctors shaking their heads.
The ceiling above looks like a blank canvas, but my mind paints it with worries.
Is it just dry skin, or something more?
When the alarm finally rings, I’m already awake.
My body feels heavy, as if the weight of uncertainty is pressing down on me.
The morning light filters through the window, casting a pale glow over the room.
Getting dressed is a chore.
Every piece of clothing feels like a layer of protection against the world.
