By Narjes Hashimi

Cover art by Narjes Hashimi

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all those who dare to dream despite the challenges they face. To my mentor, Professor Yi Fan, for guiding me with wisdom and kindness.

Acknowledgments

I thank everyone who believed in me and encouraged me to tell this story. Without your support, this voice would have remained silent.

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Introduction

This is the story of Helna, a fifteen-year-old girl from Afghanistan, a country where hope is often hidden beneath hardship. Helna dreamed of becoming a great singer, inspiring many with her voice like the stars she admired — BTS, BLACKPINK, and others. However, her family’s expectations weighed heavily on her. They wished for her to become a Quran reciter instead, shutting the door on her dreams.

Despite feeling lost and hopeless, Helna’s spirit did not break. Deep inside her heart, a silent voice whispered of hope, courage, and the strength to continue. This book tells her story — one of pain, perseverance, and the unyielding light of dreams.

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Helna was a girl with a heart full of music. Since she was little, she loved to sing quietly when no one was watching. She dreamed of standing on a big stage, her voice touching the world and the stars she loved — BTS, BLACKPINK, and others.

But her family did not understand. They wanted her to become a Quran reciter, not a singer, saying it was unfit for a girl.

Helena was broken inside; many times she fell, cried, remained silent, yet rose again, rebuilding herself from the depths of pain. For she was a girl, and no heart is stronger than that of a girl. Her dreams were heavy like a bird that could not fly. But even in the silence, her heart kept singing a soft song of hope.

…

Living under her family’s strict rules, Helna felt trapped. Each day was a struggle between obeying and following her heart. Her parents’ disappointment was like a shadow, darkening her world again and again.

She watched others chase their dreams freely, feeling a pain that words could not express. But in her silence, she found strength — a quiet determination to keep hoping, keep dreaming. How did she find strength? Time, the quiet healer, eased her wounds. The pain that brought her to tears last week no longer hurts today.

…

Helna’s songs were hidden away, sung only to herself in the quiet of the night. Music became her refuge, a place where she could be herself without fear or judgment.

Though the world seemed cruel, her voice remained a beacon, calling for a future where dreams could soar. It was a secret gift that only she knew about.

Music was her escape from sadness. It was the light in her dark world, a hope that one day, she could be free.

Even if no one else heard, Helna’s heart spoke through her songs.

…

Sometimes, Helna felt very lonely. Tears would fall silently as she thought about her future.

She wondered if her dreams would ever come true or if she would always be imprisoned by the rules around her.

But even in these dark moments, a small spark of courage stayed alive inside her.

…

One day, Helna found a small radio in a corner. She listened to songs from faraway places — music full of freedom and joy.

It was like a new world opening before her eyes. For the first time, she believed she could find a way to sing and be heard.

Her silent voice began to grow louder inside her heart, promising a future full of dreams.

…

Helna found an old notebook in her room. It was empty, waiting to be filled her thoughts and dreams.

She began to write down her feelings in song and poetry. The notebook became her best friend, a place where her heart could speak freely without fear.

Every word she wrote was like a small step toward the life she wished for.

…

Sometimes, Helna cried while writing. Her tears were not just from sadness — they were a manifestation of her broken dreams and unspoken hopes.

Even though the world seemed cold, she found warmth in her own words.

Her tears watered the seeds of a future where she could be free to sing.

…

Helna’s uncle gave her an old guitar. It was scratched and dusty, but to Helna, it was a treasure.

She learned to play slowly, each chord healing her heart. The guitar was more than an instrument; it was a vessel for her silent songs.

She could create music from anything, but the guitar was her true passion. Even with an old, broken instrument, she never said, “This is worthless.” Instead, she embraced it with love: “Thank you, I cherish it.”

Music was becoming her courage.

…

Doubt often came to visit Helna. It questioned her strength, whether she was strong enough to endure, whether her family would ever accept her dreams, or whether the outside world was ready for her voice.

But deep inside, she knew that giving up was not an option.

Her silence was about to turn into a powerful song.

…

At night, Helna looked at the sky and whispered her pain to the stars.
She imagined writing a letter to someone in the universe who could hear her.
“Do you know how it feels to dream in silence?” she asked the stars.
The stars didn’t answer, but they listened.

…

At home, her voice had no place. Every song inside her was locked behind fear.
Her family couldn’t see her pain. They thought she was fine — but inside, she was fading.
Silence was a wall. A prison. And it was now pushing them further apart.

…

The guitar sparked her hope, yet a soul needs encouragement to rise again and say, “Yes, I can.” 

Whenever she played alone, memories of hardship returned, and sadness filled her heart. 

One day, a BTS music video appeared. In that moment, she realized they too had endured struggles and achieved success. Their dances were powerful, their voices joyful, and she felt happiness watching them—because they never stopped moving forward.
She saw their faces, their energy, their courage.
She whispered, “I wish I could be like them.”
And for the first time, she didn’t cry. She smiled — just a little.

…

Even when the sun shone outside, Helna felt rain in her heart.
Loneliness wasn’t just a feeling — it was her daily life.
Breaking down her resolve with its downpour, washing away sparks of hope.
But the rain helped flowers grow. She remembered that.

…

In the silence of the night, Helna wrote a letter.
She poured her heart onto the page – words soaked in tears.
It was not meant to be read. It was meant to set her heart free.
So she never sent it. She folded it and placed it under her pillow…
Hoping maybe one day, someone would understand.
Yet, no one did.

…

Behind the closed doors of her room, she sang in a whisper.
Behind the closed doors of her mind, she doubted herself.
But a small part of her — just a small voice — whispered back:
“You are more than they say you are.”

…

Her school planned a poetry day. Helna wanted to read her poem, but her voice trembled.
Still, she stood. Still, she spoke. Her hands shook, her eyes filled with tears.
But she did it.
And people listened.

…

At night, when the world was asleep, Helna’s heart was loud.
She dreamed of stages, microphones, lights — and love.
In the dark, she wasn’t afraid to dream.

…

But there came a day when everything felt unbearably heavy. She was exhausted, unable to take another step. Perhaps no one understood her pain, yet she believed new doors would open. Still, depression and illness weighed upon her. In gatherings where others laughed, she wept. People told her: “Narjes, stop, there is no way.” 

She tore her notebook, threw her guitar away, and cried until her voice was gone.

But deep inside, she knew one day she would rise.

…

She picked up her guitar again. No words. Just notes.
And that music spoke louder than anything she ever said.
It was a song of pain, love, hope — without a single word.

…

Her birthday came, but there was no cake, no one to say “Happy Birthday.”

No laughter. No one remembered.

Helna turned seventeen, alone in her room.

She lit a candle herself.

 Her family was weary, and she felt abandoned. Her heart ached; neither people nor music could soothe her. 

She only wished to disappear. 

…

Helna began writing short poems and leaving them in books at school.
One note said, “Your voice matters.”
Another said, “You are not alone.”

Someone began to reply.

…

The person replying was Lema, a shy girl who also loved music.
They became close.
With Lema, Helna didn’t have to pretend.
They shared music, dreams, and silence that felt safe.

…

Change didn’t come like a storm.
It came like a soft wind. Slowly. Quietly.
One day her father said, “You sing beautifully.”
And that was enough to change something inside her.

…

Another morning, Helena looked into the mirror and did not cry. Why? Because she remembered her friend’s words: “Narjes, pride of my country, never lose hope. God’s hand is silent but mighty; one day He will lift you so high that even the famous cannot reach you. Have faith.” 

That day, she trusted in God, and her tears ceased.

Her friend strengthened her confidence, and she realized her only true refuge was God. One day, He will take her hand and say: “Narjes, rise; now it is your turn to reach the summit.”

…

Helna was no longer the silent girl.
She had fire in her soul, music in her veins.
She wasn’t trying to be someone else.
She was Helna — the girl who dared to dream.

…

She promised never to hide again.
Even if the world didn’t clap.
Even if the crowd didn’t listen.
Even if her voice trembled.
She would sing.
Because her voice — once silent — was now her power .

…

She once dreamed of stages, of books, of music, and lights.
But the world told her, “Your dreams are too big.”
So she hid them deep inside her like broken glass.
Even when they cut her heart, she smiled.
Helna was broken. But broken doesn’t mean weak.
Inside, her dreams still whispered…
“One day, one day…”

…

She could no longer lie.

No, she no longer wanted to lie; her real name was Narjes, not Helena. 

Harsh circumstances had forced her to hide it. 

Yet she did not want to die—she longed to succeed, not to be a youth buried with her dreams.
Her pain was no longer a secret.
Her voice was no longer silent.
For the first time, she allowed herself to be seen by all.
And that was the beginning of healing.

…

The story ends here – but her journey does not.
She is still walking, bearing scars and with strength.
The silent voice has spoken.
You heard it.
Let it stir, resonate, and be etched within you.
Because somewhere, another girl with a broken voice is waiting to be heard.

To the one who might never read this letter…

I am Narjes,
Perhaps I was.

I screamed my name over and over again into the silence,
Not because I had no voice,
But because no one was listening.

For years, I lived in silence—
A silence more painful than any scream.
Only my old pillow heard my cries in the night.
No one ever asked, “Are you okay?”
No one ever said, “You matter…”

But now, as you read this, I want to say:
I fought.
Not with a sword, but using my heart.
Not with hate, but using the hope that lit the darkest nights.

If someone ever reads these words, please—
Remember me.
Not for my name, not for my story,
But for the girl who, despite all her wounds,
Chose to write instead of giving up.

I am Narjes,
The silent voice that might one day become a cry…

With tears and hope,
Narjes.

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✍️ Narjes Final Note – The Ending

Sometimes… a person just gets tired.
Not of life, but of the world not caring.
I am Narjes.
Not Helena, not a hero—
A girl who held so many words within, but had no voice to speak them.

I grew up with tears,
I fell asleep in fear, I woke up in pain.
No one ever said, “Narjes, you matter.”
But I wrote… with trembling hands and a broken heart.

This story is my tale.
A tale that may have been untold—
But never forgotten.
A tale that only wanted someone to bear witness.
Not for pity, just to be understood

If you’re reading this page now,
Know that I’m still alive:
In you, and in every girl who hides her pain behind a smile.

I am Narjes.
Not a fictional name—
A painful, but living truth.

If one day you forget me, remember this:
Finding a girl who has endured what I have, yet remains this strong, is rare in this generation. 

Until the next chapter—farewell.