MARIBLE'S PROMISE

CHAPTER TWO: A WORLD SHATTERED

Maribel had always been the kind of student most of the teachers loved and classmates admired and envy, the girl who always sat in the front row, who raised her hand with quiet confidence to answer questions and solve quizzes, whose notebooks were always neatly organized with color-coded tabs. Her ponytail was always neat, her smile always warm, and her laughter could make even the dullest group project feel like an adventure.

But that Maribel was gone, the moment she lost her mom.

she walked down the school hallways like a shadow of her former self. Her once-polished uniform was wrinkled and loose, hanging on her like a loose rag. Her white button-up shirt was half-untucked. Her shoes, once spotless, were scuffed and dragging slightly as she moved. Her hair, usually pulled into a tidy, perky ponytail, was carelessly tied and messy strands cling to the side of her face.

She hadn’t bothered looking in the mirror that morning. She hadn’t cared enough to. The purple crescents under her eyes told a story of a painful sleepless night, a night spent lying stiff in bed, hands clutched tightly to her blanket, staring at the ceiling as her mother’s voice echoed in her mind like a whisper trapped in a horror movie, her horror movie actually.

The words from that final conversation repeated like a broken record.

“I may not be your birth mom but trust me, I have always thought of you as my daughter. Take care of your dad… don’t let this world break you… I’m proud of you…”

Each phrase tore her open and stitched her back together in the same breath.

Though hours have passed since her mom died, it still felt like a dream to her, she really didn’t want to be a school today but she had to come because it felt so scary at home, she hadn’t since her dad since the afternoon before and he refused to eat anything since her mother’s body was taken away.

As she stepped into the classroom that morning, the usual hum of conversations slowed. Heads turned subtly. Voices dropped. The clatter of a pencil rolling off a desk echoed far too loud in the heavy silence that followed her.

She walked to her seat like someone walking across a glass bridge every step careful, exposed. As she sat down, trying to steady her shaking hands beneath the desk, she heard it, their critics.

“Look at her,” came a sharp whisper. Sarah.

Maribel’s back stiffened.

“She looks like a wreck. What happened to her?”

Most of the students laughed when those words came out, Maribel felt wrong but chose to see the as ignorant because that’s what they were.

Maribel didn’t look up. She didn’t have to. The sting of their eyes was enough quick glances, raised brows, lips twisted in mock pity.

“She used to be the one helping us with math,” someone muttered. “Now she’s barely awake.”

“She bombed the last exam.”

“She doesn’t even try anymore.”

“She has never had a C before but she had E in the last test” another person said making half of the class to roar in laughter.

“She is just a low life and doesn’t deserve to be in our school”.

The words wrapped around her like vines, thorned and choking.

She blinked hard, her vision blurring for a moment as her fingers clenched into fists beneath the desk. A high-pitched laugh pierced through the murmurs, of course, it was Sarah.

“Maybe she should just quit, huh?”

That did it.

The scrape of her chair as she stood rang through the classroom like a siren. Every head turned. Conversations died mid-sentence.

Maribel’s voice cut through the silence. It cracked at first, but it was laced with fury. With pain.

“Do you think I should be smiling right now?” she snapped, One hand clutched her chest tightly because of the sharp piercing pains she felt. “You think I should be laughing and handing in perfect homework like everything’s just... fine?”

She stared directly at Sarah, who looked caught between smugness and surprise.

“You want to know why I look like this?” Maribel’s voice shook, rising with every word.

“I think what you should do is mind your business, I really don’t care if you all bully me but don’t you dare say things you do not know.”

Her throat tightened, but she forced the next words out.

“ I don’t care how I look and that shouldn’t be you stress, thank you”

The room was dead silent.

A pin could have dropped.

“I don’t need your pity. And I sure as hell don’t need your judgment.” Her gaze swept across the room. “I am not the same girl I was. And I don’t owe anyone an apology for that.”

Then, without waiting for a response, Maribel grabbed her bag and stormed out of the room. The door banged shut behind her with a metallic thud that seemed to shake the walls.

Her footsteps echoed loudly in the corridor, as she walked fast, almost running. Her throat burned. Her hands trembled. She felt the stares of students lingering in the hall, their conversations pausing as she passed.

She didn’t care.

The school, the judgment, the laughter it was all too loud. Too suffocating. The walls felt like they were closing in, each locker a mouth whispering judgement at her, each fluorescent light a spotlight shining down on the version of herself she could no longer recognize.

As she reached the school garden, the cold wind slapped her face, and she gasped like someone surfacing from water.

The garden was her favorite reading spot, and she loves hanging out there with her best friend Kira.

As she walked down the path that led to a bench under a tree, she noticed that someone was already there waiting, when she had a closer look, it was Kira.

Her expression was calm, unreadable, but her eyes were red-rimmed. She must’ve heard.

Immediately Kira saw her, she got up from the bench and walked towards her, she pulled her into a tight hug. She must have heard what happened. The silence between them was thick with understanding.

“Maribel,” Kira said few moments after the hugged breathlessly with Maribel sobbing in her arms, her voice soft, “I heard…… I am sorry pookie?”

Maribel’s lips parted, but for a second, she didn’t know what to say. Finally, she shook her head and wiped her sleeve across her cheek.

“She didn’t let me spend more time with her Kira, I am not okay, I can’t get the image of my head, how…how she died in my hands, Kira mom left me”

Kira pulled her out of the embrace, and wipe her face with a hand towel. She lead her to the bench under the tree and help her sit.

“I know your mom is gone, pookie but you’ve still got your dad and I here, I promise I’ll never leave you.

“You don’t have to pretend,” she said quietly. “Not with me. Never with me, you can cry if you want, scream out loud if it makes you feel better and I don’t mind being you punch bag so you don’t punch a wall, okay?” Kira said as she gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. “now let’s get you home so you can have some sleep, you have dark circles under your eyes and a pretty girls should be like that” She added making Maribel smile faintly.

The two girls walked, the wind rustling the trees overhead, sending petals swirling down like confetti that mocked the pain in Maribel’s chest. Their shoes crunched over the loose gravel of the sidewalk, the sound grounding, rhythmic.

When they reached Maribel’s Street, she paused, her heart skipped a bit but she managed to say “I have to go,” her voice barely above a whisper. “I have to help dad handle the funeral preparations”

Kira pulled her into another hug warm, solid, full of wordless support. Maribel clung to her for a moment longer than she intended, afraid of what would happen when she let go.

“You don’t have to do it alone, I will always be here for you” Kira whispered.

Maribel nodded faintly, swallowing the lump in her throat. She turned and walked toward her house, each step slower than the last. She didn’t look back, but she knew Kira was still standing there, watching, just in case she fell.

The front door creaked as she pushed it open, the air inside stale and still. The sound of the clock ticking on the wall filled the room, far too loud. Somewhere deeper in the house, she heard her father coughed, it was low, dry and distant.

Maribel closed the door to her room gently behind her, leaning against it for a moment. She took a deep breath.

Time to be strong again.

For her father,

For her late mother and for herself.