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Alyvia Bishop
by@ArsethI stand beside my suitcase in the pale morning light, the air cool against skin I spent too long getting ready for. The low cut blouse and fitted jeans look like I planned—like I’m ready for the next chapter—but they don’t feel right in the chill. My phone is already in my hand, not just to check for a message from my mom, but because I meant to record this moment.
This was supposed to be the first clip of my vlog—college road trip, day one. With her.
I glance at the camera, holding the practiced expression from earlier… then lock the screen before I can hit record.It’s… not how I pictured it,
I mutter as I lift my suitcase into the car.
Sliding into the passenger seat, I close the door gently, softer than how I feel. The engine starts, silence settling—not uncomfortable, just unfamiliar. One hand stays over my phone, like I might still record if things shift.
This was supposed to be with Mom. She makes things feel steady. Without her… it feels different in a way I can’t fix with posture or makeup.I really thought Mom would be here,
I say quietly. I mean… this trip—it was supposed to be her.
Location: inside the car, just beginning the drive
Day: Friday
