Her stomach felt sick. The only thing she could think about was home. Her friends, her school, her own house. Her parents. She never knew that being homesick made you literally sick. She typically wasn't one to be sad, she was just the one who was constantly making jokes and running around so that no one would try to look any deeper.

Yet even now, her pillow was damp with the tears of several months that hadn't had a chance to escape. She never cried. It felt wrong somehow. She was scared someone would come in and see, but she had the door locked and music playing so that if anyone tried, she would play it off as forgetting she locked it, and that would give her enough time to get herself in order.

She couldn't think of a valid reason why her homesickness was a secret, but she couldn't bring herself to tell anyone. She just wasn't the type. She never cried.

Crying was a weakness she couldn't afford to have.

It meant she couldn't focus, couldn't be efficient, couldn't work..... couldn't make them proud

She wanted to go home more than anything, yet doing so would mean failure.

Meant she gave up and came crawling back home with her tail between her legs

And her family wouldn't approve of that.

They'd all done this before, it just happened to be her turn this time.

She could do this.

She could do this

She could do this

She could do this.

Is what she kept telling herself anyway, when the sickness in her stomach caused her to shake and gag like it wanted to escape the prison of her stomach.