I used to think shadows were harmless, merely an absence of light. But then, absence became longing, and shadows learned to whisper my name. They knew me before I knew myself, waiting patiently for the day I’d understand that darkness isn’t born it’s made. And mine was just beginning My parents moved to the middle of nowhere months before I was born, trading the noise and chaos for the quiet embrace of a town so small it barely earned a place on the map. ==Windmere== was nothing more than a cluster of cobblestone streets lined with ivy-clad cottages and a town square where everyone knew everyone ==else’s== business. To most, it was insignificant, forgettable. But to me, it was home. I grew up under the watchful eyes of neighbors who remembered my first steps better than I did, surrounded by familiar faces and voices that felt like safety. I loved the way the air smelled after it rained, how the morning fog clung to the rooftops, reluctant to let go. In ==Windmere==, everything felt unchanging, eternal if you will. Still, even in a place as perfect as ==Windmere==, I couldn’t imagine spending my whole life here. Not without real experiences—the kind that couldn’t be found within the familiar embrace of cobblestone streets. I had dreams bigger than this tiny town, ambitions that demanded more than ==Windmere== could give; I’m sure it sounds really familiar maybe I’ve spent one too many nights re-watching Beauty and the Beast, ==thst== now ==im== becoming belle. Regardless that’s how I feel and that’s exactly what I told my parents after i already applied to university. They had their reservations, of course. My mother worried about the distance, and the unfamiliar faces. My father, ever the skeptic, wondered if I was chasing something I couldn’t quite name. But they agreed, eventually, on the condition that I come back. “Just a year,” they said, as if a promise of return could somehow keep me safe. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I didn’t know when—or if—I’d be back. Leaving would mean saying goodbye to everything I knew, including the two people who made this little town feel infinite. My constants, the kind of friends who had been there since the beginning, who made the days blur together in laughter and late-night talks under star-filled skies. We were a trio, unbreakable, or at least that’s what I let myself believe. Mae— ==Mariela== to anyone who didn’t know her the way I did—was the light that kept the shadows at bay. With her fiery curls and even fiercer spirit, she was the kind of friend who would defend you against the world, no questions asked. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, Mae was life itself vivid and ==uncontainable==. Her family was originally from Mexico, and they brought every bit of that vibrant culture with them to ==Windmere==. Their house was always filled with music, the rhythmic strumming of guitars mingling with the scent of freshly baked ==conchas== and cinnamon spiced ==café== ==de== ==olla==. Mae’s mother was convinced that food was the cure for everything, and she’d often pull me into the kitchen to help with tamales or ==churros==, scolding us in rapid Spanish whenever Mae tried to sneak a taste before dinner. We’d just laugh, sharing conspiratorial grins before dashing off to avoid getting smacked with a wooden spoon. Mae was bold and unafraid of anything or at least, that’s what she wanted everyone to believe. She had a way of facing the world head-on, chin high and shoulders back, even when I knew she was scared. She dreamed of leaving, too, but never for long. ==Windmere== was her kingdom, and she was its reigning queen. Then there was **Leo**, with his perpetually tousled hair and that effortlessly charming British accent that made even the most mundane words sound poetic. He moved to ==Windmere== when we were ten, his family trading the bustling streets of London for a quieter life. It didn’t take long for us to become inseparable. Leo was all gentle smiles and quiet strength, the calm to Mae’s chaos. Where Mae was fire, Leo was earth—steady, grounded, ==unshakeable==. The three of us were a unit, bound together by a childhood spent exploring every inch of ==Windmere==. We knew all the secrets of this town—the best hiding spots, the shortcut through the woods that led to the lake, the old watchtower where we’d carve our initials into the stone, promising to be friends forever. I hadn’t told them yet. I didn’t know how. It felt too real, too final, like speaking the words aloud would shatter the world we’d built together. They were my constants, my safe place. How could I tell them I was leaving? My chest tightened at the thought, anxiety curling around my heart. But I couldn’t put it off forever. They deserved to know, even if it broke us. I took a deep breath, the morning air cool against my skin, and headed to the old oak tree by the riverbank where we always met. Mae was already there, lounging against the trunk with a half-eaten apple in one hand, waving me over with the other. Leo sat beside her, legs stretched out, eyes closed as if soaking in the sun. I’d never tell them this to their face but I think they’d be cute together and balance each other’s souls out, but I want it to happen naturally so I keep quiet, because whats a friend group if two out of the 3 are dating. We spent the day like we always did—laughing, teasing, making memories out of nothing at all. I clung to every second, trying to etch them into my mind, a keepsake to carry with me when everything changed. But as the sun began to sink below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, the weight of my secret grew heavier. The words burned on my tongue, refusing to be silenced any longer. We walked back together, our shadows stretching long behind us. Mae chattered on about her ==abuela’s== newest remedy for colds, her hands moving animatedly as she described the taste of honey and lime. Leo listened with a smile, I hated to have to ruin the night. I stopped walking, my feet planted on the cobblestone path. They turned to look at me, confusion flickering in their eyes. My heart pounded, fear and guilt twisting together, but there was no turning back. “I got accepted into the university,” I blurted out, the words tumbling out faster than I could catch them. “at the end of summer.’ The silence that followed was heavy, and suffocating. Mae’s smile faltered, her eyes wide with shock. “¿==Qué==?” she whispered, her voice small, vulnerable in a way I’d never heard before. Leo’s expression was unreadable, his face carefully neutral. But his eyes gave him away, a flicker of hurt that made my chest ache. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “but I didn’t want to leave without you knowing. I… I didn’t want to lose us.” Mae looked away, her jaw tight, tears shimmering in her eyes. Leo ran a hand through his hair, letting out a breath that sounded more like a sigh. And in that moment, under the fading light of a dying sun, everything began to change.