Min sat in the back row, her notebook filled with verses that danced between the lines. The classroom hummed with the monotony of lectures, but her mind wandered elsewhere. She poured her heart into those poems, ink bleeding into paper, hoping they would find a home beyond her solitude. But the classroom remained silent, her words echoing unheard against the cold walls.
Yesterday's Tears
The memory of yesterday clawed at her. The rejection, the indifference—it all weighed heavy on her fragile heart. Min's hand trembled as she traced the curves of her favorite pen. She had bared her soul, but the world had turned away. Her poems lay scattered like fallen leaves, unnoticed and forgotten.
The Cruel Whispers
"Get away from here," the whispers taunted. "You don't deserve love." Min clenched her fists, tears blurring her vision. Why did it always happen to her? Why did her family not see her worth? And why did her poems remain invisible, like fragile butterflies trapped in a web of silence?
Unexpected Comfort
Then, a voice interrupted her despair. "Hey, do you know which class Min is in?" Min turned, surprised. A stranger stood there, eyes kind and curious. "You are Min," he said, "I've read all your poems. We study at the same university." His words hung in the air, like a lifeline thrown to a drowning soul.
Lin's Revelation
Min blinked, her heart fluttering like a caged bird. "How did you know about me?" she asked. Lin smiled. "You don't talk to many people," he said gently. "That's why they don't know you." Min's eyes widened. Someone had noticed her, seen her hidden words—the fragile threads that held her together.
Lin's Laughter
As Lin spoke, Min's tears flowed again—this time, tears of joy. "I like your poems," Lin confessed. "No, not just like. I love them." Min's breath caught. For the first time, her words had found a listener, a friend. Lin's laughter echoed through the empty corridors, breaking the silence that had suffocated her for so long.
An Unexpected Invitation
"Min," Lin said, "with whom do you go home after class?" She hesitated, her heart racing. "Alone." Lin grinned, as if unraveling a secret. "Go with me from today. You'll have friends—I promise." Min's loneliness melted away, replaced by the warmth of possibility. Maybe her poems weren't lost after all; maybe they were just waiting for the right ears to hear them.
New Beginnings
As the bell rang, Lin stood. "Waiting for me after class," he said. Min nodded, her steps lighter. She had found her audience, her confidant. And maybe, just maybe, her poems would find their way into more hearts. The classroom, once silent, now held the promise of new beginnings—a canvas waiting for Min's words to paint its walls with hope and longing.