The knock on the door came so softly, I almost thought i imagined it. My room had become my sanctuary—the only place in the house where i didn't feel like a ghost at my own family gathering. But then came the second knock, firmer this time, followed by the familiar, tired voice.
"Elena?"
I turned on the bed slowly, barely managing a murmur. "Come in."
The door creaked open, and my mother stepped inside. Even though she tried to smile, i could see the weight hanging in her eyes. My mom had always carried the world on her back—raising five children alone, balancing work and home with a strength no one ever acknowledged. But tonight, her face looked worn in a different way. Like she'd noticed something she couldn't ignore.
"What are you doing here all by yourself?" she asked softly, stepping in. "Everyone's in the living room. We're playing cards—laughing like we haven't in a while. And you're in here, lying alone."
I sat up, wiping the silent tears from the corners of my eyes before my mom noticed. "I was just tired, Mum. Needed some rest."
My mom didn't respond right away. She just stood there, watching me like she wanted to read past the words.
"You know," she finally said, sitting beside me "if something's bothering you, you can always talk to me, right?"
It was such a simple statement. So ordinary. Yet it pierced through the walls i had spent years building. My lips quivered. She nodded, but words refused to form. For a split second, i wanted to throw myself into my mother's arms, just cry it all out, let someone—anyone—see how tired i was of hiding.
But the moment her body leaned slightly forward, something in my mind snapped me back.
You can't be weak now. If they cared, they would've noticed earlier. Why now? Why only when you've already learned to live without them?
Her shoulders stiffened. The tears dried in my eyes before they had a chance to fall.
"I'm okay," I lied, my voice a whisper.
Her mom looked unconvinced, but she didn't push further. She gave me a tired pat on the back. "Alright. Just know I'm here. Don't ever carry too much on your own, okay?"
And then she was gone. The door closed again with that same soft creak. But this time, the silence that followed felt louder. I let my head fall back to the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The ache in my chest didn't fade. If anything, it swelled.
I almost broke down, i thought bitterly. Almost let her in. Why did I pull away again?
Maybe because i knew it wouldn't last. Moments like that never did. People asked if you were okay just to say they asked. But few ever stayed long enough to listen. Fewer still noticed when you said you were fine but looked like you were drowning inside.
My thoughts drifted to my brothers. Not the married ones—those barely even called anymore. But the two she lived with, the ones who'd walk past her in the hallway without a second glance, the ones who laughed in the living room but never asked if she wanted to join. They weren't cruel, no. Just… indifferent. And somehow that hurt worse.
Sometimes, all i wanted was for one of them to notice when i was for quiet too long. To come to my room and ask why I'd been alone for hours. To sit beside me and let me cry, no questions asked. But they never did. They probably never would.
I turned to face the wall, pulling my blanket tighter around my body as if it could protect me from the loneliness pressing in from all sides.
Then, my phone vibrated beside me .I lazily reached for it, not expecting much.
A message from Daniel my close friend
Daniel: Hey, I swear if you don't reply soon, I'll teleport into your room. Are you okay? You disappeared from the group chat.
I smiled faintly. Daniel always knew when something was off, even from miles away.
I replied: I'm okay. Just needed some alone time.
Daniel: Hmm. You sure? Because you only say that when your overthinking is on steroids.
I replied: Caught red-handed. But I'll be fine. Promise.
Daniel: You better be, you know i don't like seeing you down
I laughed softly.
I closed my eyes again, the ache dulling just a little. It was still there, but the wwarmth from Daniel's concern settled like a small flame in my chest. A reminder that not everyone was blind to me.
Still, my mind wandered to Damien.
We hadn't spoken in days. And that silence wasn't just space—it was distance. Emotional, unsettling distance.
I'd tell myself it was fine. That i didn't need him. That whatever existed between us wasn't even official. But i couldn't ignore the truth:
I missed him.
And sometimes, that scared me more than being ignored by my brothers. Because with Damien, it wasn't about feeling unwanted—it was about feeling too seen. Too known. And i wasn't sure i was ready for that either.
Especially not with everything i was still learning about myself.
I closed my eyes once more, willing myself to sleep.
Tomorrow would come. Maybe not with answers. But at least, with a blank page to write on.
And maybe—just maybe—with a message from Damien waiting.