The Bench by the Window

Jalen sat on the bench by the window long after the school hallway had emptied. Outside, the branches trembled in the wind—small, stubborn gestures against the sky. He wasn’t sure why he had stayed. He had nothing to wait for, no one expecting him. But something about the quiet felt like an answer, even if he didn’t know the question.

He had been rushing all year. From class to practice, from practice to homework, from one expectation to the next. He wore motion like armor. As long as he kept going, he didn’t have to think too much. About the pressure. About how lost he sometimes felt, even when he was doing everything right.

But the bench was still. And for the first time in weeks, so was he.

He watched a leaf fall in a slow circle. He noticed the sound of the air vent. He felt the weight of his own thoughts settle—surprising, not heavy. There was no sudden breakthrough. No grand solution. Just the realization that maybe stopping wasn’t weakness. Maybe it was part of the way forward.

He didn’t need every answer right now. He didn’t have to outrun uncertainty. He just had to be willing to stay still long enough to hear his own voice again.

Jalen stood up—not with a plan, but with a little more clarity. He walked down the hallway with no rush this time. The wind outside hadn’t stopped. But it felt different. Not like something to fight—but something to move with.