Sylvia walked to the edge of the reservoir spillway. The snows were beginning to melt and the first of the Spring rains had started to fall. The water was rushing out of the wide opening into the river so quickly she could have been standing at the edge of a waterfall. She let the sound of the rushing waters wash over her and the cool night seep into her veins, letting it wash away the pain that brought her to this place. She had come here so often over the years; sometimes to gaze at the dark sky dusted so beautifully with stars, or just to cry into the darkness and sometimes to question whether the world would be better off without her in it. Tonight was one of those nights.
She had reached a breaking point. She had lost yet another job that she was fully capable of doing, but just couldn’t bring herself to want to be at. She always felt like she was in the wrong place. As if she was being pushed away from the unbearable path she had started down so many years ago. Sylvia sighed deeply and sat at the edge of the spillway. She buried her face in her hands and wept.
“What am I doing?” she asked the emptiness around her. There was no response but the breeze in the trees and the water rushing beneath her.
Sylvia stood. She was prepared to take that final step. The step she had thought of taking so many times. She didn’t like feeling this way. As a matter of fact, she was absolutely sick of feeling this way. She just couldn’t do it anymore. As she stepped forward, prepared to allow herself to fall into oblivion, her foot caught on something. She looked down at what had intruded on her final moments to find a little black book.
She bent to pick it up. It looked like any book, but smaller. There was no title on the outside, so she opened the blank cover. It was a notebook. She flipped through the pages to find them full, not with stories, but with random thoughts and tiny drawings. She stopped on a page toward the front of the notebook and her breath caught.
Today I decided to keep going. Today is not the end of my story, but a new beginning.
Her heart raced. She looked to the stars that were still shining so brightly. She listened to the water rushing so close and felt the gentle breeze flowing through her loose mahogany hair. This was not her end and she would find the path she was meant to travel. The path she had veered so far from all those years ago.
She walked away from the edge of the spillway, clutching the little black notebook. Her salvation. She walked and cried, but not her normal tears of despair and hopelessness. They were tears of joy. For the first time in her life, she felt like she was meant to be here. As if something beyond her understanding had made sure that simple little black notebook had found its way to her at just the right moment. She found her way home about two miles away from the spillway and sat down at her table. It was around 4 o’clock in the morning at this point, but she didn’t even feel tired. She felt rejuvenated in a way she hadn’t felt in so long.
Sylvia again opened the little black notebook. It was page after page of uplifting thoughts. Of promises of better days ahead. Of happy little pictures of trees and animals or the ocean at the edge of a beach with a palm tree and the sun beaming in the corner. These were the thoughts she should have been filling her head with all these years. Every time things got hard or she felt like giving up or she was too scared to try at all because she was so certain she would fail; she should have been saying these things to herself instead of constantly convincing herself she was a failure and that was all she would ever be.
She found her most recently purchased notebook, as she was constantly buying them with the intent to begin writing, or at least begin brainstorming ideas to begin writing, and she did just that. She started jotting down snippets of dreams she’d had recently, dreams she intended to put on paper, but never found the time for. She began noting things she would need to research to ensure that her creations were authentic. Sylvia let her mind run as quickly as her heart was racing. Everything she had put off for so long was flying out of her. She could laugh for the joy that was in her heart. Everything was going to be okay. She knew that her story was indeed not ending today.
***
Within four days she had written the first 5 chapters of her first book. It was as if a dam had broken inside of her and everything she had been holding back was rushing out of her as quickly as the water from the spillway had been. She showed what she had written so far to her sister, Ashlynn. She had never been so excited about anything in her life. Her sister had always been her best friend, but also her fiercest, most unwitting competitor.
Ashlynn was everything that Sylvia believed she wasn’t. She was beautiful, with her long blonde hair, incredible green eyes, and her always perfect waist, while Sylvia had always found her hazel eyes to be dull and her mahogany hair to be utterly plain and she seemed to be a constant 20 pounds heavier than she wanted to be, no matter how hard she tried. Ashlynn was successful and managed to get through all her struggles with a smile on her face and had never once contemplated giving up the way Sylvia nearly had. But despite how jealous she had always been of her sister, Ashlynn had never really given her any true reason to be jealous. She had always loved her openly and encouraged her to follow her dreams and told her she believed in her with everything she had. So, when Sylvia showed her the beginning of her first creation, she knew that she would give her an honest and loving opinion.
Ashlynn was stunned. She was brought to tears and begged Sylvia to keep writing. And she did. She wrote for days, barely willing to stop to sleep or eat. She only finally gave in when her stomach started growling at her impatiently or when the words started to blur in front of her from exhaustion. She just couldn’t get everything out quick enough. The words swam in her head and her story came to life in her dreams. She always woke up with excitement now. Her little black notebook with her everywhere she went. She reread the authors thoughts every day, filling her heart, mind and soul with peace and determination.
Three weeks after she had shown her sister her initial chapters, she received a call from Ashlynn. She asked how the book was coming. Sylvia told her how much she had written and read Ashlynn her most recent chapter. She said it was amazing and that she had some news for her. For a moment, Sylvia’s heart skipped a beat. Her old habit of fearing the worst taking over. She clutched the little black notebook in her hand, and she let her fear dissipate and dissolve away as the last snow had in the Spring sun.
“I really, really love what you’ve written so far, sis!” Ashlynn told her. “So, I may have reached out to a few of my friends at Silver Flames Publishing and told them a little bit about your book. And… They're interested in sponsoring you to help with finishing, editing, publishing, and the distribution of your book! They’re offering you $20,000, Sylvia! And if your book does as well as they think it will, they want to talk to you about signing on as one of their authors!”
Sylvia felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her legs were going to collapse beneath her. This couldn’t be real. She was still dreaming or having a serious sleep deprived hallucination. She could hear her sister saying her name, asking if she had heard her, but she sounded so far away. She swallowed and closed her eyes and was barely able to rasp, “What?”
Ashlynn laughed and repeated herself. Sylvia started crying and realized she wasn’t dreaming. Everything she had been so afraid of for so long vanished. All of her doubts and fears were gone in an instant. She wished Ashlynn were there with her and not on the phone. She wanted to hug her and squeeze her and cry with her.
“I always knew you had it in you, little sis,” Ashlynn said, her voice breaking.
“Thank you, Ashlynn. I don’t know what else I can possibly say right now,” she said with a smile as her tears ran down her face. They laughed and cried and talked about the details and made so many, many plans.
***
When they finally finished talking, Sylvia found herself unable to write. She knew there was somewhere else she needed to go before she could continue. So, she put on her jacket and walked out the door.
Sylvia found herself at the spillway roughly 30 minutes later. She had taken her time getting there, enjoying the grass finally turning green again and the buds just starting to poke out of the flowering trees. It had been four weeks since the night she almost quit. It felt like years. She thought about how close she had come to giving up. To letting herself believe that it would truly not get better.
Sylvia held the little black notebook in her hands and pressed it to her heart. She closed her eyes and thanked it for saving her life. She thanked the rushing water for providing solace in her most desperate times and that breeze for helping her to feel less alone. A little black book saved her life. And this was not the end of her story. It was only the beginning…
About the Creator
Brittany Swenk
I have been writing for about 20 years, off and on. It’s been one of few things that has always made me happy. That and music and reading. I’m really hoping that joining this forum can help me find my way back there!
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“He Kept Going When No One Was Watching — And That Changed Everything”
No one ever noticed the days he almost gave up. There were no messages asking if he was okay. No one wondered why he became quieter. No one asked how much effort it took just to keep going. To the world, he was just another ordinary man. His name was Ayaan. Ayaan’s life didn’t collapse in one dramatic moment. It slowly faded. Missed opportunities. Rejected ideas. Silent disappointments. Every failure was small, but together they became heavy. He had dreams once. Big ones. Dreams that kept him awake at night, imagining a future where his hard work would finally matter. But over time, those dreams began to feel unrealistic—almost embarrassing. People around him seemed to move forward effortlessly. They celebrated promotions, achievements, and milestones. Ayaan watched from the side, smiling politely while feeling invisible. At work, his efforts were ignored. Among friends, his voice faded. At home, expectations weighed heavily on him. Slowly, a dangerous thought settled into his mind: “Maybe I’m not good enough.” That thought followed him everywhere. It followed him on crowded buses. It followed him into sleepless nights. It followed him every time he tried again and failed. One night, after scrolling through endless success stories online, Ayaan closed his phone and stared at the dark ceiling. His chest felt tight, not because of pain—but because of exhaustion. He whispered quietly, “How long do I keep trying?” There was no answer. But that night, Ayaan made a decision—not a loud one, not a confident one. A tired decision. He decided to keep going, even if nothing changed. The next morning felt the same. The same routine. The same doubts. The same fear of wasting his life. But Ayaan showed up anyway. He worked when no one praised him. He studied when no one guided him. He practiced when no one believed in him. Some days, motivation disappeared completely. On those days, discipline took over. He reminded himself: “I don’t need applause. I need progress.” Weeks passed. Nothing dramatic happened. No sudden success. No recognition. No miracle. But something subtle began to shift. Ayaan became calmer under pressure. He learned to sit with discomfort instead of running from it. He stopped comparing his journey to others. The silence that once scared him now became his training ground. Months later, a serious problem appeared at his workplace. It was complicated, risky, and easy to blame on someone else. Most people avoided it. Some pretended it wasn’t their responsibility. Ayaan didn’t announce himself. He didn’t seek attention. He simply started working. Late nights. Mistakes. Corrections. Learning. There were moments he wanted to quit. Moments when fear whispered, “You’re not ready.” But he answered back, “I’ll learn.” Slowly, the problem began to disappear. Not perfectly—but steadily. People noticed, quietly. One afternoon, his manager called him into the office. Ayaan expected criticism. Instead, he heard a question that stunned him: “Where did you learn all this?” Ayaan paused. How could he explain years of silent effort? How could he explain working when no one cared? He simply replied, “I kept going.” That moment didn’t change his life overnight. He didn’t become famous. He didn’t suddenly become successful. But it changed something far more important. His belief in himself. For the first time, Ayaan understood that life doesn’t always reward effort immediately. Sometimes, it watches. It watches who continues without praise. Who improves without recognition. Who grows in silence. Years later, Ayaan looked back at the version of himself who almost quit. The man who felt invisible. The man who thought no one was watching. And he smiled. Because he finally understood the truth: Life was always watching. Not to judge. Not to rush. But to see if he would keep going when it was hardest. The world doesn’t reward those who only work when they’re seen. It rewards those who build strength in silence. And sometimes, the moment that changes everything doesn’t come with applause. It comes quietly. After patience. After effort. After consistency. That is when everything finally begins to change. Final Message Keep going—even when no one is watching. Especially then.
By Inayat khan6 days ago in Motivation
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