SUNA’S journal (translated from Arabic)

[sharp falcon]

March 13,2025( this is all translated from my Arabic journal)

Every day, I sit in a room full of girls who chatter
endlessly—about makeup, about influencers, about whatever show everyone’s obsessed with this week. I sit at the edge of their circles, pretending to listen, pretending I belong. They’re not mean to me. They don’t bully me or exclude me outright. They just… don’t see me. Like I’m an extra in the movie of their lives.

Today in literature class, the teacher asked us to discuss a poem in pairs. I sat there waiting, but no one picked me. Everyone just turned to their usual friends like it was the most natural thing in the world. The teacher had to pair me with Hana at the last second. She was nice enough, but we barely spoke beyond the assignment.

I wonder what it would be like to be the kind of girl people naturally gravitate toward. The one who always has someone saving a seat for her, someone texting her late at night with inside jokes. I wonder if they even realize how lucky they are.

Maybe it’s me. Maybe I keep myself at a distance without meaning to. Or maybe I’m just not the kind of girl who fits.

-suna

[sharp falcon]

March 14th 2025

This morning, the familiar routine swallowed me whole walking into class, slipping into my seat unnoticed, surrounded by voices that never speak my name. I told myself not to expect anything. Not to wait for a glance, a smile, a small acknowledgment.

But I still did.

And when it didn’t come, the emptiness felt sharper than usual.

At lunch, I hesitated before heading to the usual spot. A part of me, the weak, desperate part, lingered in the courtyard, scanning the crowd. Hoping. But the moment I caught sight of that table, laughter spilling out like music I could never dance to, I knew.

I didn’t belong there.

For a moment, eyes met mine. Just for a second. I waited for a wave, a gesture, anything to say, Come sit with us again. But instead, there was a glance away, a quiet whisper, a laugh that I wasn’t a part of.

Maybe it wasn’t about me. Maybe I was invisible again.

Somehow, that was worse.

[sharp falcon]

March 16, 2025

My final exam is on Monday, and I should be studying, but my body feels heavy. My head is burning, my hands are freezing, and everything aches. I don’t know when I got sick, but it hit me hard this morning. Maybe it started yesterday. Maybe I just didn’t notice because my chest already felt hollow for other reasons.

I tried to study, I really did. Opened my textbooks, took out my notes. But the words blurred together, and I couldn’t focus. My head hurts too much, and my body won’t stop shivering no matter how many blankets I pull over myself. I know I should rest, but I can’t. If I fail this exam, everything gets worse.

And things are already bad enough.

The house feels tense, like walking through a storm before the thunder cracks. I can hear my parents arguing downstairs. They always argue these days. It’s mostly about money, but sometimes it’s about other things things I don’t want to understand. I turn up the volume on my phone to drown them out, but their voices seep through anyway.

At one point, I hear my name. Something about how I “never help with anything” or how I “spend too much time locked in my room.” I squeeze my eyes shut, pretending I didn’t hear it, but the words settle in my chest like weights.

I want to disappear. Just for a little while.

I reach for my phone, thinking about messaging someone. But who? There’s no one waiting for a text from me. No one who would even notice if I never sent one.

So I just lie here, staring at the ceiling, my head throbbing, my chest aching, the house filled with voices that don’t understand me.

Monday is coming too fast. I don’t know how I’m going to get through it.

[sharp falcon]

March 17, 2025

The first exam wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but it wasn’t great either. I don’t know if it’s because I was sick all weekend or because my brain just shut down the second I saw the questions, but I couldn’t think clearly. I answered what I could and guessed the rest. It wasn’t a complete disaster, but it wasn’t good enough either.

And now there’s another one tomorrow.

I should be studying, but my head won’t stop spinning—not from the fever this time, but from the pressure. My parents barely acknowledged me when I got home. No “How was your exam?” No “Are you feeling better?” Just silence, except for my mother reminding me, “You better do well on the next one.”

Like I don’t already know that. Like I don’t already feel like I’m being crushed under all of it.

I tried to study after dinner, but nothing is sticking. Every time I look at the pages, all I can think about is what happens if I fail. If I disappoint everyone. If I prove that I’m not good enough.

I wish I had someone to talk to. Someone to say, “It’s okay, you’re trying your best.” But no one would say that. Because in the end, “trying” isn’t what matters. Only results.

I don’t know how I’m going to get through tomorrow. But I have to.

[sharp falcon]

March 18,2025

The second exam was… easier than I expected. Maybe because I forced myself to study all night, or maybe because I was so stressed that my brain just went into survival mode. Either way, when I flipped through the pages, I actually knew the answers. I didn’t have to guess. I didn’t freeze up.

For the first time in a long time, I felt dare I say it? okay.

When I walked out of the exam room, I was still tense, waiting for that usual wave of doubt to hit me. But it didn’t. Not immediately, at least. I just felt lighter. Like I could finally breathe after holding it in for days.

No one really asked me how it went. My classmates were too busy talking to their friends, making weekend plans, moving on with their lives. But that’s fine.

I walked home slowly, taking my time, letting the cool air clear my head. For once, the silence in my house didn’t bother me. My parents didn’t ask about the exam, but that was expected. At least they weren’t arguing today.

I don’t know if I’ll get a perfect score. I don’t even know if I did great. But I did my best, and for once, that feels like enough.

And right now, that’s enough to make me a little bit happy.

-Suna

[sharp falcon]

should’ve known today was going to be bad the moment I saw the test paper.

JFK. The entire exam was about JFK. His presidency, his policies, his assassination things I thought I understood until I had to write about them under pressure. My mind went blank the second I read the first question.

I had studied. I really had. But somehow, none of the things I focused on were on the test. I kept second guessing my answers, rewriting sentences, erasing them again. By the time I got to the essay portion, my hands were shaking. I don’t even know what I wrote just a blur of words that I hope made sense.

By the time I turned in my paper, I felt drained. Everyone else walked out of the classroom chatting about their answers, comparing what they wrote. I didn’t join in. I didn’t want to know how many things I got wrong.

I walked home in a daze, my stomach twisting. My parents expect me to do well. I expect me to do well. And now, all I can do is wait for the grade and hope it’s not a disaster.

I hate this feeling. The waiting. The uncertainty. The little voice in my head whispering, What if you failed?

I just want this week to be over.

SUNA’S journal (translated from Arabic)

[sharp falcon]

March 22, 2025

Today was supposed to be a break after the final exam, but it quickly turned into something unexpected. I was outside when I heard a loud crash a sound that made my heart jump. Rushing over, I found my brother lying on the pavement, his bike carelessly skidded away. This time, it wasn’t just a minor fall. There was a big cut on his leg, bright and unsettling against his skin.

He tried to stand, wincing as he put weight on it. I could see the surprise in his eyes, but he kept insisting it was no big deal, as if he could dismiss the pain with a few words. Even though he brushed it off, I couldn’t shake a knot of worry tightening in my chest. My parents immediately gathered him up and rushed off to the clinic, leaving me standing there with a mixture of relief that he wasn’t seriously hurt and a lingering concern for his well-being.

Now, back at home, the house feels quieter, though I can’t shake the image of that cut. I know he’s strong and has bounced back from worse, but I can’t help but hope he learns to be a bit more careful on that bike next time. Even if I’m not drowning in sadness, a little worry remains a reminder that sometimes, even small moments can change everything.

[sharp falcon]

i was such a yapper

my english was much better too