Healing hearts

Chapter 2

The days continued to pass in a blur, each one feeling heavier than the last. She had perfected the art of faking a smile, of laughing at the right moments, of nodding when someone spoke to her—even when she wasn’t really listening. No one noticed the way her hands trembled when she pulled down her sleeves, or how her eyes were always just a little too tired.

At home, her parents were wrapped up in their own worlds—her dad buried in work, her mom distracted with household chores. Her older sister barely looked at her anymore. "She wouldn’t understand," she told herself. "She has her own life, her own problems." The distance between them grew, and she felt more alone than ever.

Her room became her safe place, the only place where she didn’t have to pretend. But even there, she couldn’t escape the voices in her head. They told her she wasn’t good enough, that no one would ever love her the way she was. She believed them.

At school, things were the same. She walked the halls feeling invisible, a ghost drifting between people who never really saw her. She had friends, or at least, she used to. Lately, they had been distant, whispering to each other but never including her. She tried to ignore it, but every laugh that wasn’t meant for her, every inside joke she wasn’t a part of, felt like a stab to the chest.

One day, she overheard them talking.

"She’s so dramatic."

"She’s always sad, it’s exhausting."

"It’s like she wants us to feel bad for her."

The words stung. More than she expected. She wanted to scream at them, to tell them they had no idea what she was going through. But instead, she stayed silent. She always did.

That night, she sat on her bed, staring at the scars on her arms. The temptation was there, stronger than ever. But a tiny part of her hesitated. She wanted the pain to stop, but deep down, she wished someone—anyone—would notice. Would ask if she was okay. Would tell her she wasn’t alone.

But no one did.

So she wiped her tears, hid her pain, and told herself, once again, "Maybe tomorrow will be better."

Even though she wasn’t sure she believed it anymore.