That morning nothing felt different.
The sky was grey. The coffee tasted bitter. My playlist was on shuffle, but somehow only the sad songs played. You know those mornings? When everything looks normal, but something just feels off?
I didn’t understand why until I stepped outside — and started hearing things I wasn’t supposed to.
Not sounds. Just thoughts.
The first one was quiet. A man at the bus stop muttering to himself, looking annoyed at a car driving too slowly.
“Come on, old man, speed up already. I’m late.”
But the voice from the slow-moving car said, silently:
“Please don’t wake up, please… she just fell asleep.”
I glanced inside. A father driving slowly, one hand on the wheel, the other resting near a baby seat. His little girl, asleep in the back, her tiny face calm for maybe the first time that morning.
And suddenly, I saw it: the misunderstanding. One person angry. The other just surviving.
Then more voices came.
A girl walking past me, smiling at her phone:
“I’ll post this selfie later. Maybe if I look pretty enough, he’ll text me.”
An old woman at the market, picking up apples:
“Don’t forget to act cheerful. No one likes a sad grandmother.”
A teacher at school saying, “Good morning, class!”
But her thoughts whispered:
“Please be kind today. I don’t know how much more I can take.”
It hit me hard.
Everyone is pretending. Every. Single. Day.
And somehow, I was the only one who could hear what was really being said.
Even Nehir — my best friend, my safe place. She was joking around, loud as usual. But her thoughts?
“If I disappeared, would anyone even notice?”
So, I turned to her. I didn’t ask why. I just grabbed her hand and said, “I’d notice. Every day.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she laughed it off like always.
And I realized: people don’t always want help. They just want someone to see them. To get them. Even silently.
So maybe I was given this strange gift not to fix everyone… but to understand them. To see beyond the masks. To remind them they’re not as invisible as they feel.
And maybe — just maybe — that’s en