That day, the school atmosphere felt lighter than usual. The hallways that had previously been a place for anxiety now echoed with the sound of free and relieved laughter. That morning, report cards had been distributed. Not just a piece of paper containing numbers, but also a marker of the long journey that each student had gone through. Viona received it with calm hands and a clear gaze. Not because she got perfect grades or academic awards, but because this time, she no longer depended on the views of others. 
She had learned to see herself in a different way—not through numbers, not from applause, not from external recognition. But from the courage she built day by day, from the patience to keep going even though the world around her was not always friendly. She judged herself from her strength to survive, to not give up, and to continue to believe that everything would get better over time. 
In front of the homeroom teacher's room, Lina—her best friend since first grade—came over and immediately hugged her tightly. A warm, unhurried hug, as if wanting to channel the spirit that had been unspoken. “You’re great, Vi,” he said softly but confidently, as if he saw Viona’s struggle that was invisible to others. Viona nodded slowly with a smile. A simple smile, but sincere and full of meaning. Not many words needed to be said when the heart began to make peace with what had always felt heavy.
Lina looked at her deeply, as if wanting to make sure that Viona was really okay. “Vi, I know you’ve struggled a lot this year. If you need to talk, I’m always here,” she said again in a soft voice. There was a gleam of concern in her eyes, a reflection of the sincerity of a friend who never tires of being there. Once again, Viona nodded, this time deeper. A silent acknowledgement that she understood, and that Lina’s presence was one of the reasons she could stand as tall as she was today. 
Viona didn’t reply with words, but from the look in her eyes, Lina knew that her friend was on the right track. She had not only survived the storm, but had also begun to find her new direction—a direction that slowly brought her back to herself. And that, was far more important than mere achievements or recognition. 
That afternoon, after leaving school, Viona returned to the place that had long been her escape room—the small music studio where she usually practiced. The room hadn’t changed much. Still with the soothing soundproof walls, the yellowish lights that gave a sense of comfort, and the black piano that stood gracefully in the corner of the room. Every corner brings memories, but also a sense of security that is hard to replace.
He sat in front of the piano, staring at the keys for a moment, letting the silence greet him first. His left hand lifted hesitantly, gently touching a note. As the soft sound flowed, it was as if a long breath came out of his chest. Like someone who had finally returned home after a long absence, full of longing.
Viona began to play her nostalgic song with Dewa—a name that now only remains in the stories of the past. But this time, the tone sounded different. Not because she forgot how to play, nor because she wanted to change the melody, but because her heart had changed. The song no longer sounded like a wound. She told herself, softly, that she just wanted to reminisce. Because in the end, the most powerful nostalgia is that which is conveyed through song. Every keystroke felt like lifting one by one the burdens that had been settling in silence. 
Music became her escape—not to forget, but to accept. She realized that not all memories had to be thrown away. Some were enough to be kept, as part of the journey that shaped who she was today. 
Occasionally she stopped, closed her eyes, letting the harmony of notes and memories blend into one space. But no tears fell this time. All there was was silence. Not an empty silence, but a silence filled with the courage that was now starting to grow in her heart. 
The last song finished, and Viona opened her eyes slowly. In the small mirror in the corner of the studio, she saw her own reflection. There were scars there, it was true. But beneath them, there was the shadow of a girl growing—slowly but surely. She knew the journey wasn’t over, and it wouldn’t be easy. But she also knew she felt stronger now than ever.
That night, when she returned home, Viona sat at her study table. She opened her little diary, the book that had been her silent confidant. The ink began to dance on the paper, pouring out every emotion she felt honestly.
"I'm not trying to forget. I'm just getting used to living without depending on the past. And today, I managed to get through another day, not as someone who waits, but as someone who steps forward."
She stared at the writing for a long time, then closed her little book and hugged it tightly, as if strengthening herself. When she stood up, her steps felt lighter. There was a burden that slowly began to disappear. There was no longer the feeling of being trapped in memories. There was only new space—space to grow, to accept, and to step forward.
The next day, at school, Lina greeted her with a wide, warm smile. "Vi, you look different. Calmer, more... stronger," she said while looking at her friend in admiration.
Viona smiled slightly, her soft laughter sounding freer, more relaxed than before. “Yes, I feel better, Lin. More accepting of everything, including myself,” she answered firmly, with eyes that conveyed a newfound determination.
Lina looked at her proudly. She knew the process was not easy. But Viona made it. “I’m glad you made it to this point. Never hesitate to take a step, Vi,” she said, hugging Viona lovingly.
Viona returned the hug, tight, warm. In her heart she knew, she was not alone. Support from a friend like Lina was a small light that illuminated her initial steps. “Thank you for being there for me, Lin. I will never forget.”
That night, as usual, Viona opened her diary again. But this time, she added one sentence that was so important to her:
“Dewa will always be a part of my life story—a part that was once beautiful, once painful, but now has become part of an old page that does not need to be erased. Just read it once in a while, then store it away quietly.”
And with that, she closed her book, looked up at the ceiling of her room, and smiled a little. She knew, she would be fine. Because the future was now in her hands, and she was ready to take it all in—one small step at a time, with a heart that was starting to heal and courage that was starting to grow.