Always Holding Breath Series

Second,

The moment she left the relative safety of the compound, the true scale of the morning's danger revealed itself. The path to school was a gauntlet of natural and human threats, each segment presenting a new test of her courage and wit. The first challenge was a river that swelled during the rainy season, turning from a gentle stream into a rushing, brown torrent. She had to carefully choose her crossing, her worn shoes slipping on the wet, submerged rocks, the current tugging fiercely at her legs. One misstep could mean being swept away, her schoolbag dragging her under. On the other side, the path wound through a stretch of dense brush where wild dogs sometimes prowled, and rumors of snakes kept her eyes glued to the ground. The rustle of leaves could signal a fleeing lizard or something far more dangerous, forcing her to freeze in place, heart pounding, until she was sure it was safe to move.

Beyond the natural obstacles were the ever-present human dangers, which were often more frightening. The path had isolated sections where men would sometimes linger. She knew the stories of girls who had been harassed, or worse, assaulted by strangers who saw them as easy targets. She walked quickly through these areas, her senses heightened, avoiding any eye contact that might be seen as an invitation. A group of older boys from a neighboring village sometimes blocked the path, demanding money or food, their teasing words laced with a threatening undertone. She had learned to carry a small, sharp stone in her pocket, not sure if she could ever use it, but the feel of its rough edges against her fingers gave her a small, desperate sense of control. Her entire journey was a performance of defying fear, her face a mask of determination meant to project a strength she didn't always feel.

This daily trek was a direct defiance of the odds stacked against her. It was a battle against a environment that seemed determined to halt her progress and a society that often turned a blind eye to the perils faced by a girl seeking an education. She walked past the homes of peers who had given up, their dreams drowned in the river or stolen on the path, their futures narrowed to the confines of their family compounds. Every morning she arrived at school with damp, muddy shoes and a heart still racing from a close call was a victory. It was a silent protest against the idea that her safety was less important than her schooling, a testament to a stubborn will that refused to be broken by the relentless challenges of the journey.

The sight of the school's faded flag atop its pole was the most beautiful thing she would see all day. That symbol of order and routine meant the gauntlet was over. As she passed through the gate and joined the stream of other students, the heavy cloak of vigilance began to slip from her shoulders. The fear of the river's current, the threat of wild animals, and the lingering dread of a stranger's touch were locked outside. For the next several hours, the world was reduced to the four walls of her classroom, a place where the dangers were spelled out on a blackboard and the only thing she had to fight for was a place on the exam pass list. She had made it, once again, and the relief was as palpable as the morning sun finally warming her skin.