Stella Lockheed
I was just there, sitting under the tree, a total mess. Tears streamed down my cheeks like an endless waterfall, and I didn't even care about the mascara smudges or the fact that I probably looked like a drowned rat. At that moment, my misery was on full display, and I didn't have an ounce of energy left to hide it.
As the sobs racked my body, memories of my mom and dad's frustration and desperation echoed in my mind like a never-ending chorus of disappointment. Their voices haunted me, their faces etched with concern and confusion as they tried to understand why their supposedly gifted child had turned out to be so utterly powerless.
I bit my lip as the memory replayed in my skull.
"Dad, I'm really trying," I had pleaded, my voice tinged with frustration. "I just... I
