One Mark, One Storm

She walked in slowly with her bag on her back.

She held a paper in her hand. 

Her heart felt heavy. 

She got twelve out of twenty, 

which was not her best. 

But she had tried hard, just like everyone else.

She put the paper down with shaking hands. 

She wished her mom would understand. 

Before she could say anything, 

the silence was broken. 

Her mother’s anger took over.

"Always on your phone!" her mom shouted. 

"Did you think these marks would last? 

You were a top student, now look at you. 

What happened to the girl I used to know?"

The girl stood still, 

too worn out to cry. 

She felt a lump in her throat and tears in her eyes. 

She remembered the nights she studied late.

Sleep and dreams had to wait.

She thought about the prayers she whispered in bed.

She felt all the pressure building up in her head.

But her hard work was not noticed, 

just the score. 

Did this mean her mom loved her less?

It wasn’t the grade that hurt the most. 

It was feeling like no one remembered her. 

One mistake, and she was blamed. 

She didn’t get comfort or support.

There were no "How are you?" or "Did you try?"

Just accusations that made her feel sad. 

She needed a hug, not more doubt. 

She needed love, not to be pushed away.

Still, she stood there with her head down. 

She wished someone would understand her. 

She didn’t fail because she didn’t care.

Sometimes, even the brightest stars fade.