My days became routine:
- 4:30 a.m. – wake up
- 5:00 a.m. – café shift
- Classes all day
- Night – studying until exhaustion
Weekends: cleaning dorms for extra money.
Most days: four hours of sleep.
Sometimes less.
Thanksgiving came. Campus emptied.
I stayed.
I called home.
“Can I talk to Dad?”
A pause.
Then, faintly in the background:
“Tell her I’m busy.”
I stared at my instant noodles and said, “I’m fine.”
After that, something shifted.
Not suddenly—but quietly.
Hope didn’t disappear.
It just… dimmed.
The Breaking Point—and the Turning Point
Second semester nearly broke me.
One morning at work, the room tilted. I grabbed the counter.
“You need rest,” my manager said.
Rest wasn’t an option.
That same week, I opened my bank account:
$36.
That night, I kept writing applications anyway.
Scholarships. Grants. Fellowships.
One of them stood out:
Sterling Scholars Fellowship—only twenty students nationwide.
It felt impossible.
I applied anyway.
Professor Cole
After submitting an economics paper, I was asked to stay after class.
I expected criticism.
Instead:
“This paper is exceptional.”
