CHAPTER FOUR
1337 Words
ELARA’S POV
The days passed, weeks too, but I didn’t feel them.
Morning came and went. Nights stretched into silence. Time moved, but I didn’t.
I existed… that was all.
I woke up because my body refused to sleep forever. I ate because my mother placed food in front of me and stood there until I took a few bites. I spoke only when necessary, and even then, my voice felt like it belonged to someone else.
Maya came around often.
At first, she tried to talk. She asked questions, made jokes, even brought movies to distract me. But slowly, she stopped trying so hard. Now, she just sat with me, sometimes holding my hand, soothing my hair, sometimes scrolling through her phone in silence.
I think she realized that I wasn’t ready.
I wasn’t ready for anything.
Not for conversations. Not for comfort.
Not even for my own thoughts.
Weeks passed like that.
Weeks of absolute silence.
Weeks of avoiding my reflection because I couldn’t recognize the girl staring back at me with a little bump.
Weeks of pretending that I wasn’t slowly falling apart on the inside.
One afternoon, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring blankly at the wall. I don’t even remember how long I had been there.
Minutes? Hours?
It didn’t matter.
Nothing did.
A soft knock came at the door.
I didn’t respond.
The door creaked open anyway.
“Elara,” my mom’s voice came gently.
I didn’t turn.
I heard her footsteps as she walked in slowly, like she was afraid I might break if she moved too fast.
The bed dipped slightly as she sat beside me.
For a while, she didn’t say anything.
And neither did I.
The silence between us wasn’t new. It had been there for weeks. It was heavy, suffocating, filled with everything we weren’t saying.
“I made your favorite,” she said softly. “Cheese sandwich with eggs and bacon”
I blinked.
“I’m not hungry,” I replied, my voice flat.
There was a pause.
“You said that this morning,” she said quietly.
I didn’t respond.
Another silence.
“Elara… look at me.”
Something in her voice made my chest tighten.
Slowly, I turned.
Her eyes were softer than I remembered.
Not angry.
Not disappointed.
Just… tired. And something else.
Regret.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
The words caught me off guard.
I frowned slightly. “For what?”
“For that day,” she said, her voice trembling just a little. “For how I spoke to you. For making you feel like you were alone in this.”
I swallowed hard.
“You weren’t wrong,” I said quietly. “I messed up.”
“No,” she shook her head immediately. “You made a mistake. That doesn’t mean you deserve to be abandoned… or treated like you don’t matter.”
My throat tightened, but no tears came.
That scared me.
“I was angry,” she continued. “I was scared too. Not just for you, but for your future. I kept thinking about all the plans we made… everything you were supposed to become.”
I looked down at my hands.
“Exactly,” I whispered. “Everything I was supposed to become.”
Her hand gently covered mine.
“You still can be, Elara.”
I let out a small, humorless laugh.
“With a baby?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said firmly.
I looked up at her, surprised.
“Yes,” she repeated. “It won’t be easy. It will be hard. But your life is not over.”
I searched her face, trying to see if she truly believed what she was saying.
“And the disappointment?” I asked quietly.
Her expression softened even more.
“You could never be my disappointment,” she said.
That did something to me.
Something small… but real.
My chest ached, like something inside me was trying to wake up after being buried for weeks.
“I thought I lost you,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
She squeezed my hand.
“You didn’t,” she said. “I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
The room fell silent again, but this time, it felt… different.
Lighter.
Not completely.
But enough.
Later that evening, I found myself sitting on the floor, surrounded by a small box.
Noah’s things.
I stared at them for a long time before touching anything.
A hoodie.
A wristwatch.
Little notes he used to leave for me.
My chest tightened, but my face remained blank.
I picked up the hoodie and held it for a moment.
I expected something.
Pain. Tears. Anger.
Anything.
But there was… nothing.
Just emptiness.
Slowly, I dropped it back into the box.
One by one, I went through everything.
Memories I wasn’t ready to face.
Promises that meant nothing now.
Or at least… that’s what I told myself.
When I was done, I closed the box and stood up.
I walked to the bin.
My hands hesitated for a second.
Just a second.
Then I let it go.
The box fell in with a dull thud.
I exhaled slowly, staring at it like I had just thrown away a part of myself.
Maybe I had.
I turned back to the bed, but something caught my eye.
The necklace.
It sat quietly on the table, untouched.
I walked over and picked it up.
My fingers curled around it instinctively.
I should throw it away.
I knew I should.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I held it tighter.
Then there was the photo.
A small one.
Just the two of us, smiling like nothing in the world could ever go wrong.
I stared at it for a long time.
Too long.
Then, without thinking too much about it, I slipped the necklace into my drawer… and tucked the photo beneath my pillow.
Out of sight.
But not gone.
A few days later, my mom walked into my room again. Maya was brushing my hair while I was flipping through a random magazine.
“I have something for you,” she said.
I looked up. “What is it?”
“A friend of mine is opening a small store next weekend,” she said. “Clothing and accessories. She wants to do a little opening event… nothing too big.”
I nodded slowly, not fully understanding where she was going.
“She needs help organizing it,” my mom continued. “Decorations, setup, coordination… that kind of thing.”
I raised an eyebrow slightly.
“And?” I asked.
“She asked if you could help.”
I blinked.
“Me?”
“Yes,” she said gently. “You’ve always had an eye for things like that. Remember how you planned Maya’s birthday? And my last surprise dinner?”
I shrugged slightly. “That was different.”
“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe it’s not.”
I looked away.
“I don’t think I’m in the right state for that.”
“That’s exactly why I think you should do it,” she replied softly.
I frowned.
“Elara… you’ve been stuck in this room for weeks. Maybe this could help. Just a little.”
I didn’t respond immediately.
The idea felt… strange.
Different.
Something I hadn’t felt in a while.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“You don’t have to decide now,” she said, standing up. “Just think about it.”
She walked toward the door, then left
I sat there, staring at nothing again until Maya spoke
“You know you don’t have to have everything figured out,” she added. “Just take one step. This could be the escape you have been praying for.”
For the first time in weeks, my mind wasn’t empty. There was something else.
A thought.
A possibility.
Something small.
Something I could control.
And maybe…
Just maybe…
That was enough.
- Writer
