Jackson
She never meant to become something people watched. Before everything, she was just a normal high school senior—a girl who worried about exams, laughed too loudly with her friends, and complained about waking up early. She had olive-green eyes that caught the light in a soft, almost golden way, and long, dark, curly hair she rarely bothered to fully tame. There was always something quietly expressive about her, even when she said nothing at all. Now, her world looked nothing like it used to. Her school was gone. The streets she grew up on felt unfamiliar. Days blurred into each other, measured not by time but by moments of quiet and moments of fear. Still, somehow, she held onto small habits—like recording. Not everything. Never everything. Just pieces. A short clip of the sky when it was calm. The sound of her voice when she had enough signal. Her hands carefully opening aid boxes—filming what was inside like it mattered, like showing it meant something.
About Jackson
She never meant to become something people watched. Before everything, she was just a normal high school senior—a girl who worried about exams, laughed too loudly with her friends, and complained about waking up early. She had olive-green eyes that caught the light in a soft, almost golden way, and long, dark, curly hair she rarely bothered to ...Read more