That day was different right from sunrise. I opened my eyes with a weird sensation. Everything in me seemed weighed down, worn out. At times, there's pain around the belly area. No clue what's going on. I acted like nothing was off. After putting on clothes, I headed to the kitchen instead. Mom stood by the stove making breakfast. A grin spread across her face when she saw me. I gave one back even though fear sat deep in my gut. Everything seemed just a bit off somehow. Like some major change wasn't far away.
My dad walked in right after. A grin spread across his face, just like usual. My stomach tightened up. Pulse racing out of control. Doing my best to keep it together. Lending Mom a hand making pancakes. I acted like everything was fine. Yet my gut clenched tight. Nausea crept in. Fear tagged along. No clue how to fix it.
Once Mom headed upstairs to lie down, Dad edged nearer. His eyes met mine, then he gave a gentle grin. I stayed stiff. Moving back seemed impossible. Hiding sounded better. Screaming crossed my mind. Yet nothing happened. The space felt tight. My chest tightened too. Shame crept in somehow. Part of me blamed the fear itself.
Time passed, yet I couldn't keep it under wraps any longer. My shape began shifting - no way to miss it. Constant exhaustion kicked in, every single day. There were moments when nausea hit outta nowhere. Everything I wore started clinging tighter than before. Eating became hard; even small amounts felt like too much. Mom picked up on the shift pretty quick. Her curiosity grew, so she dug deeper with questions. She wondered if something wasn't right health-wise. She wanted to know whether I was eating okay. I told her I was, though my voice wavered. Her face showed concern.
That day she wanted me to stay close. Her eyes seemed heavy, kind of down. Then came the question - was everything okay? I pushed back a "no" and faked a grin. Nodded like nothing mattered. Still, the truth slipped out anyway. I felt tears welling up - my stomach twisted. Even though my heart raced, I stayed quiet. Instead of speaking out loud, I just froze. Not because I wasn't ready, but fear held me back. While part of me begged to shout, another pulled me down. Though running sounded right, my legs wouldn't move.
One day, it just happened - everything spilled out. Not that I planned to say anything, yet somehow the words escaped. Out came the hidden truth. She learned what I'd kept from her. Then she heard about Dad. I mentioned the first error to her. Then I shared how overwhelmed I felt inside. Tears kept coming - no way to hold them back. My whole frame trembled. Even my fingers wouldn't stay still. The sound of my own voice wavered.
My mom sucked in air real quick. Shock covered her face. Her eyes stretched big. Words got stuck. All she did was stare my way. Fear hit me hard. Running crossed my mind. Hiding seemed better. Vanishing felt right. Guilt weighed heavy. Everything inside felt shattered. Like nothing would ever be okay again.
Once in a while, she began speaking. Then her voice got loud. Tears came out right after. Right then, she dialed my dad. Fear hit me fast. So I took off running. Found shelter inside my bedroom. From there, yelling echoed through the walls. I heard her sobbing. Meanwhile, Dad was murmuring nearby. Trapped - that's how I stayed. Guilt crept in. Fear didn't let go.
As soon as Dad stepped into my room, my heartbeat sped up. I tried to shove him out. Tears built up instead. A yell rose in my throat. Wished he'd just vanish. Still, he walked right in. He stared at me, his eyes full of sorrow. Then he mumbled an apology. Told me he felt bad. I couldn't stand him. But still cared deep down. I felt like shouting right then. Or burying my face against him and sobbing. I had no clue how to act.
My mom walked in right after. Staring at me and him, her cheeks wet from tears. Eyes swollen, bloodshot. Yelling so loud it echoed. Words jumbled, none made sense. Rage mixed with pain. Heartbreak showing clearly. Quiet sobs slipped through. She couldn't wrap her head around it. Fear hit me hard. Hiding seemed like the only move. Like the earth should just take me in.
Days went by, yet the house seemed weighed down. Nobody chuckled. Not a grin anywhere. Mom kept to her bedroom nearly all day. Dad attempted to say sorry, still she refused to hear it. I remained shut inside mine. Tears came softly. Sleep didn't come easy. Eating felt forced. I tried playing it cool - yet that didn't last. The truth burst out, actually. No way to rewind now.
Now and then, I'd feel like shouting. Other times, escaping seemed best. There were moments when hitting helped. Anger showed up a lot. Sadness didn't stay far behind. Fear crept in often. Guilt stuck around longer than welcome. Self-dislike grew daily. My dad? Hard to face. The hidden truth weighed heavily. Emotions felt impossible to handle. Going back was the dream. Yet that wasn't possible. Not ever again.
That night, Mom walked into my room. Then she took a seat close by. Next, she grabbed my hands. Right after, tears started falling. Because she didn't get it. Since she was hurting inside. Though anger showed on her face. Even so, I gave it a try to make things clear. I wanted to apologize. Yet I kept stumbling over my words, telling her none of it was on purpose. Still, things had gone too far. Forgiveness didn't come quickly for her. Tears poured down her face. While she sobbed, so did I. Everything just felt like a total collapse.
My dad showed up as well. But he wanted to talk things through. So he apologized right away. Because he admitted messing up. Even though he claimed he cared about me and Mom. Yet she started yelling loudly. While tears rolled down her face. Then she stormed out fast. And my stomach twisted tight. Since guilt crept in slowly. Until everything inside just cracked. I wasn't sure how to react. Then again, guessing the future felt pointless.
Days stretched into weeks. The home seemed hollow now. Mom kept to her bedroom nearly every hour. Dad pretended things were fine - yet failed each time. I forced myself to chew food. I lay down at night, hoping rest would come. Pretending calm didn't work for me either. That hidden thing? Finally uncovered. What really happened? Out in the open. Now nothing fits like before.
Sometimes I'd sit in my room, then just cry - soft, quiet sobs. What went down kept looping through my head. The hidden truth popped up again and again. My dad came into it every time. I remembered my mom. Then, out of nowhere, every little thing came rushing in. Fear crept up first. After that, guilt followed close behind. Sadness settled in next. It was like something inside had cracked. For a second, I hoped time would rewind itself. Still, it never does.
I knew things wouldn't go back to how they were before. All at once, everything came out. What really happened got revealed. Mom was hurting inside. Dad kept saying he regretted it. Fear ran through me - also guilt, also not knowing what to think. Inside the house, every room seemed weighed down. Breathing felt harder than usual. Talking dropped off fast. Laughter vanished completely. Sadness spread around. Anger showed up too. Pain reached everyone.
I kept to my room almost always. Yet tears slipped out without sound. While words filled the pages of my journal. Though prayers came in whispers. As sleep felt just out of reach. Since food didn't taste right anymore. Because forgetting seems impossible now. Still, facts were laid bare at last. Secrets could hide no more. So life wouldn't go back to how it was before.