THE DAY THE WORLD CHANGED

The morning she died felt unreal. The sun rose, but it didn’t shine. I spoke to her just two days before, whispering hope into the cracks of her soul.

When I found her, there was no scream. Just silence. A silence so loud it split me open.

Her body looked peaceful, as if she had finally escaped the storm. But I knew better. She hadn’t escaped. She had surrendered to a world that refused to listen.

At her funeral, her story hadn’t been told. Her truth hadn’t been spoken. But I made a promise to myself that her voice would rise again.

Through me. Through every woman who needs to be heard. Through every survivor who thought silence was their only option.

That was the day the world changed. Not only because she died, but because I began to speak.