Threads of Compassion

Part 1

A/N: Just warning that there will be some cursing and conversation about drugs. For those who are sensible and would not like to read that but WOULD like to read the other parts I will leave a warning right before those stuff start to happen. Enjoy.

Surely, there was a full moon and lamps and stars that night shining through the windows of many houses to light up the world in the dark night. But not in one house, the Winslow's household. In the Winslow house, there was a thick air of sadness and grief and only a few—badly—lit lights in the house while they ate dinner. A wooden round table surrounded with four chairs, but one is empty. Four places on the table, but only three are being used. Three people where there should have been four.

Emily notices this every time they eat at this silence filled dining room. The empty seat a black void, sucking all the noise and happiness out of the room. Emily stabs her food with her fork mindlessly as her parents try to eat. But are also clearly failing. Food is another facade they use to hide what's behind their masks of well being. Trying to do normal activities like everyone else is how they cope with their pain. It's how they pretend to be as okay as everyone because that makes it seem like they've forgotten their pain. Some people even look up to them because they seem fine after that. If they only knew....

After what felt like an eternity to Emily, she stopped stabbing her food and let her fork drop with a clang onto the plate still full of food. She had not taken a single bite out of her food, even if it was her favorite food, fettuccine. She got up from her seat in a swift and quick move.

"Emily?" Delilah, Emily's mother, said in a soft, delicate voice—as if a cracked vase. "Where are you going? You haven't even finished your–"

"I'm not hungry." Emily's cold and sharp voice cut her mother off.

Cassander, Emily's father, spoke sternly, "Emily Rose Moore, do NOT talk to your mother like that."
Delilah's hand shook and her lips trembled as she looked at her daughter. "Cassander...it's fine, she's not hungry. Neither am I anyway." Delilah let go of her fork too, but compared to Emily she softly let it down with barely a noise.

"But Delilah. She's being disrespectful, you know we need to keep her on a straight path. She mustn't end up like..." Cassander cut himself off softly before he finished his sentence, he knew it would only make the situation worse than it already was.
"I know...but...didn't we try that before too...and he only felt pressured...?" Delilah looked down at her lap as she fidgeted with her wedding ring.

Emily sighed and looked directly at her father. "So can I go to my room now?" she said coldly as ever, it's been her voice since six months ago. It truly has ever since reflected her inner self. Cold and distant...the new her.

Cassander sighed and waved her off without even saying a word. As their daughter left he comforted his wife with a gentle squeeze on her hand, intertwining their fingers together to stop her from fidgeting nervously with her wedding ring. Delilah sobbed softly as she let her head fall against the table, almost as if punishing herself. Her shoulders were shaking as she cried onto the table while clinging on to her husband's hand.

Emily noticed all of this but ignored it partially unintentionally as she sulked up to her room, taking slow and dreadful steps up to her room. Once up the staircase and at the front of her room, Emily's hand trembled over the door knob. She took one deep breath and clasped the door knob, twisted it and opened the door. She reluctantly entered her room and slowly closed the door behind her. What had been the point of fighting to go to her room if she would only force herself to enter her room?

Emily sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. Almost as if on cue to her worse nightmares she felt a buzz come from her phone that was inside the back pocket of her jeans. Emily cursed under her breath as she pulled her phone out.