You run back to your room, slamming the door and locking it before falling to the floor. You groan, holding yourself tightly kicking wildly at the air. You unfold your arms to start pounding the ground, your groans becoming shouts that become screams.
When your throat is raw and your hands are sore, you lay still, staring up at the ceiling. You close your eyes and sigh, sitting up and looking around. “Bravery…” you whisper, turning to look over the other side of your room. You narrow your eyes and stand, wiping yourself off. “Bravery is not just courage to face the scary, it’s courage to face the unknown.” You smile, rolling your sleeves up and tying your hair back, running to the nearest box and tearing it open.
You are a hurricane, running around your room, unpacking and arranging and rearranging. When you’ve emptied the last box, you fold it, stacking it with the others and stashing them in your closet. You look around at your room, breathin