The sun came in through the big windows, shining right on my face. I opened my eyes slowly. My head was heavy. My mouth was dry. I was tired not just in my body, but in my heart. My name is Iremide Amadi. I'm twenty-four. My father is a billionaire. People think I have everything, but they don't see the pain I hide.
I sat up on the bed. Pill bottles were on the table beside me. I took one and swallowed. I didn't even know what it was. I just wanted the pain to go away even if just for a little while.
I looked around the big, beautiful room and felt nothing. I was empty. Sad. Lost.
"Oh Earth," I said, almost in a whisper, "why always me?"
stood up and walked to the mirror. My eyes were red. My face looked tired. I touched my cheek. I didn't recognize the girl in front of me. I used to be happy. I used to laugh. Now, I only cry when no one is watching.
A soft knock came on the door.
"Iremide?" It was Halimah our maid. Her voice was always calm. Kind. She was the only person in this house who ever cared about how I felt.
I didn't answer.
She knocked again, gently. "Your breakfast is ready. Should I bring it here?"
I wanted to shout. I wanted to say, Leave me alone! But I couldn't. My voice was stuck in my throat.
"No," I finally said. "I'll come downstairs."
"Okay," she said, and I heard her footsteps fade away.
I sat back on the bed. I didn't want food. I didn't want to go downstairs. But if I stayed in this room too long, the thoughts would return dark ones.
So I stood up, put on my cloth , and dragged myself out of the room.
I walked down the stairs slowly. Each step felt like a burden. The house was quiet, like it always was. You'd think a big mansion like this would be full of life. But here, silence was louder than any noise.
Halimah had already set the table in the dining room. The food looked perfect eggs, toast, tomatoes slices, and tea. She always paid attention to the small things. It was how she showed care.
"Good morning, ma," she said with a small smile. She never called me by my name when others were around. Just "ma" like we were strangers, even though she had seen me at my worst.
I nodded. "Thanks," I said, sitting down.
She stood near the wall, waiting in case I needed anything. I hated it. Not her just the feeling of being watched, even by someone so gentle.
"Sit," I said. "Please."
She looked surprised. "Ma?"
"I said sit. I don't want to eat alone."
She hesitated, then quietly pulled out the chair at the far end of the table. She didn't touch the food.
"You ever feel like something is choking you, even when nothing is around your neck?" I asked suddenly.
She looked at me, unsure if it was a question I really wanted answered.
"Yes," she said softly. "Sometimes, pain doesn't show on the outside."
That made my eyes burn. Not from anger from the way she just understood me. No questions. No judgment. Just truth.
"I don't want to be like this," I whispered.
"I know," she said.
And in that moment, I felt something I hadn't felt in weeks ,peace. Just for a second. But it was real.