Typing My Future
As the clock ticked past midnight, I couldn’t sleep. I sat in the glow of Jenna’s floor lamp, typing my statement.
Names, numbers, dates—I made sure everything was spot-on. My fingers danced over the keyboard, crafting each detail carefully.
The paper had to be perfect. This was my chance to break free, and every word had to count. I took a deep breath, knowing this was it.