informal deal

Ghosts of the Past

Ghosts of the Past

The soft glow of the television flickered across the darkened living room, casting shadows on the walls as the final credits of the movie rolled. Elara sat curled up on the couch, a blanket draped loosely over her legs, staring blankly at the screen. She could hear Nina’s quiet movements in the kitchen, the clink of a tea cup being set down, but her mind was elsewhere—far away from the present.

The movie they had just watched had been intense. It started innocently enough, a slice-of-life drama that slowly built up to a climactic scene, where the main character was confronted with harsh, blatant racism. It wasn’t the first time Elara had seen something like that in a movie, but this time, it hit too close to home.

Too real. Too familiar.

She blinked, trying to pull herself out of the fog that had settled over her thoughts, but it was no use. The scene kept replaying in her mind, and with it, the memories she’d worked so hard to bury.

“El, you okay?” Nina’s voice broke through her reverie, gentle and concerned.

Elara forced a tight smile, nodding as she sat up straighter. “Yeah, just… the movie. It was a lot.”

Nina walked over, sitting beside her on the couch, her expression softening. “Yeah, it was. Pretty intense. It makes you think, though, about how far we still have to go.”

Elara nodded absently, her fingers tightening around the blanket. She didn’t want to get into it—not right now—but Nina was right. The world still had a long way to go. But for Elara, those battles weren’t just societal—they were personal, woven into the fabric of her life.

“I’m gonna head to bed,” Elara said quietly, standing up and grabbing her phone. “It’s been a long day.”

Nina gave her a sympathetic look but didn’t push. “Okay. Sleep well, El.”

Elara barely heard her as she made her way to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click. The room was dark and still, but inside her mind, a storm was brewing. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the floor, and before she could stop it, the memories came rushing back.

---

She was eight years old again, sitting at the kitchen table, her small hands gripping the sides of her chair as her mother leaned over her, examining her features with a critical eye.

“Too dark,” her mother muttered under her breath, shaking her head. “Why didn’t you take after your father’s side? You’re not going to get far looking like this.”

Elara’s heart sank, the familiar sting of shame tightening in her chest. She had heard these words before—too many times to count—but no matter how often they were said, they never hurt any less. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t look like her cousins, who were fairer-skinned and praised for their beauty. She didn’t understand why her mother always seemed disappointed when she looked at her.

In the neighborhood, it was no different. The kids would whisper, sometimes not even bothering to hide their cruel remarks.

"She’s so dark. She doesn’t belong with us."

"Her nose is weird."

"Why does her hair look like that?"

At first, Elara had tried to fight back, but it didn’t take long for her to learn that no matter how much she argued, no one would listen. Eventually, she just stopped talking altogether, keeping her head down, hoping that if she stayed quiet enough, no one would notice her.

But they always did.

---

Elara shook her head, trying to push the memories away. She hadn’t thought about that in years—didn’t want to. She had worked hard to leave that part of her life behind, to forget the way her own family had made her feel like she wasn’t good enough. The way they had discouraged her, not just in how she looked, but in everything she did.

"You’re not smart enough for this."

"You’ll never be as successful as your cousins."

"Why can’t you be more like them?"

Those voices had followed her well into adulthood, creeping into the corners of her mind even when she thought she had moved past it. And now, here she was, a grown woman, still haunted by the echoes of a childhood that had left her feeling small and broken.

Elara clenched her fists, feeling the burn of unshed tears behind her eyes. She refused to cry over this. Not now. Not ever again.

But the truth was, it still hurt. Even after all these years, even after proving everyone wrong by getting into a top university and landing this internship, a part of her still felt like that little girl who wasn’t good enough. Who would never be good enough.

The feeling of isolation, of being different, of not belonging—it hadn’t gone away. It had just changed its shape, from playground taunts to the dismissive looks she got at work, the subtle but unmistakable way people like Tyler Hartman underestimated her.

---

A knock on the door startled her from her thoughts.

“El? You okay?” Nina’s voice filtered through, soft but concerned.

Elara took a deep breath, quickly wiping her eyes before opening the door. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Nina peered at her for a moment before nodding. “Okay. Just checking.”

“Thanks, Nina,” Elara said quietly, her voice steadier now. “I just… needed a moment.”

Nina nodded again, giving her a small smile. “I get it. Just know I’m here if you want to talk.”

Elara managed a faint smile in return, but the weight of her past still pressed heavily on her chest. She closed the door once more, leaning her head against it for a moment before turning back to the room.

Tomorrow, she would go back to work, back to dealing with people like Tyler, back to pushing through the doubts and insecurities that had been ingrained in her for as long as she could remember. But tonight, she let herself feel the weight of it all.

The pain, the memories, the anger—it was all still there, simmering beneath the surface.

And tomorrow, she would bury it again, just like she always did.

--