The art room became my shelter — not from the world, but from who I was in it.
It didn't echo with noise like the hallways did.It echoed with breath. With stillness. With the scratching of pencil on paper that felt louder than a scream.
I kept going there after school, not because I believed I was good…But because it was the only place I didn't feel like a shadow.
And somehow, she was always there too.
Kaiya didn't ask why I came.She just slid into the seat across from me day after day, sketching her quiet storms while I struggled to translate the chaos in my chest onto a page.
She once leaned over and looked at a jagged sketch I was about to tear out."You think too much," she said.Her voice wasn't soft. It was clear — like a still lake. "Draw what you feel. Not what you think you're allowed to show."
I didn't answer.But for the first time, I stopped trying to fix the lines.
The next day, she passed me a folded paper.One word was scribbled inside:"Empty."
I didn't look at her. I just grabbed a pencil and started drawing.A broken staircase twisting upward into a storm — steps cracked, pieces missing, leading nowhere clear.
I didn't explain it.
I didn't need to.
When I finally looked up, she was staring at it.Quietly. Intently.
"You're more than what they see, Kai."And the way she said it made me believe that maybe… maybe I could be.
But reality didn't wait.
I failed my math test.
At home, the silence hit harder than any insult.
"You can't draw your way into a future," my father said, not looking up from his phone.
And I wanted to scream:Then what do I have? What am I supposed to do if this is all I can be?
But I didn't.
I just went back to the sketchpad and added another crack in the staircase.
Kaiya noticed.
"You're close to breaking this thing," she said.
"Maybe I'm supposed to," I muttered, barely audible.
She looked up, serious this time."No. You're supposed to climb it."
I stared at her.Her voice didn't just touch the drawing.It touched the part of me I kept buried.
A week later, I saw my drawing pinned to the wall in the school gallery.The one with the boy submerged halfway in water, arm stretched toward the light above.
I froze.
"You didn't—" I started.
"I did," she said. "It deserved to be seen."
And it was.Students stopped. They looked. They asked.Some called it 'raw'.Some said 'haunting'.
For the first time…They saw me.
And it wasn't because I tried to be seen.It was because I let something real show.
Kaiya smiled as we stood beside it.
"You don't have to scream to be heard, Kai. Sometimes, all it takes… is honesty."
That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
I wasn't fixed. I wasn't special.But I was something.
And that was enough to keep climbing.
End of Chapter 4