Shadows of Tomorrow

Chapter Two: Fraying at the Edges

Maria sat in the kitchen, staring at the sandwich her mother had made. The bread was soft, slightly misshapen—her mother had a habit of baking instead of buying bread, a quiet effort to keep the family connected. Maria could remember a time when that had been comforting, but now even the smell of the bread seemed to suffocate her. She knew she should be grateful, but the guilt clung to her like an anchor, pulling her deeper into the heavy silence of the house.

The kitchen was small and cluttered, just like the rest of their home—a reflection of her mother’s habit of keeping everything, every memory, every trinket, as if letting go of one thing would unravel the entire world. The fridge was covered in faded drawings from Maria’s childhood, certificates of academic excellence, and a few family photos. She didn’t dare look too closely at those now; they were reminders of a time when she had believed in a future full of promise

She poked at the sandwich but didn’t take a bite. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, marking each passing second as if daring her to move, to do something. But the weight on her chest remained, keeping her pinned in place.

The sound of her phone vibrating on the counter broke the quiet. She glanced at it, seeing Eric’s name flash on the screen. He had been texting her all morning, trying to check in, trying to understand. Maria knew she couldn’t keep avoiding him forever, but the thought of explaining herself felt impossible.

With a sigh, she picked up the phone and unlocked it, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She stared at the blank message box, unsure of what to say. “I’m fine” would be a lie, and “I don’t know what’s wrong” was the truth she didn’t want to admit.

Instead, she wrote: Can we talk later?

She hit send before she could overthink it and placed the phone back on the counter, feeling the familiar wave of guilt settle in. Eric didn’t deserve this. None of them did. But Maria couldn’t shake the feeling that they were all better off without her anyway.

The door creaked open, and her mother walked in, her brow furrowed in concern as she spotted Maria at the table. Dressed in her usual faded jeans and a loose blouse, her mother carried herself with a quiet strength that had always grounded Maria. But now, even that strength felt fragile, as though the cracks in their relationship were growing wider by the day.

You didn’t eat,” her mother said softly, leaning against the counter. She wasn’t the type to push too hard, but the worry in her eyes was unmistakable.

“I’m not really hungry,” Maria mumbled, avoiding her mother’s gaze.

Her mother sighed but didn’t press the issue. Instead, she moved to the sink and began washing the few dishes from breakfast, her hands moving with the practised rhythm of someone who had long since accepted the mundanity of life. For a moment, the only sound was the running water, a gentle hum that filled the space between them.

“Eric called earlier,” her mother said after a moment, her voice carefully neutral.

Maria tensed, her fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “What did he say?”

“Just that he’s worried about you. He asked if you were okay.”

Maria felt a lump form in her throat. Eric had always been the steady one, his patience seemingly endless, his affection unwavering even when she had given him every reason to walk away. They had met during their first year of university, and for a while, it had been perfect. He was the kind of person who made everything seem manageable, his calm demeanour a stark contrast to Maria’s constant overthinking. He was tall, with a slight athletic build, and his dark hair had a tendency to fall into his eyes, something he never seemed to notice until Maria brushed it away for him. She used to love that—how his quiet charm could make her forget, even for a moment, the weight she carried.

But now, that weight had become too much, and Maria could feel herself slipping, pulling him down with her. She had told herself a hundred times that she didn’t deserve him, that she was dragging him into her darkness. The thought of losing him terrified her, but the thought of keeping him felt selfish.

“I’ll talk to him later,” Maria muttered, though even she wasn’t sure if she meant it.

Her mother turned off the tap and dried her hands, leaning against the counter with a sigh. “Maria, I don’t want to push you, but... I can see you’re struggling. I don’t know how to help, and that scares me.”

Maria’s chest tightened at the words, and she felt the familiar urge to shut down, to build the walls higher around herself. But something in her mother’s voice made her pause—an edge of desperation that hadn’t been there before.

I’m... I’m fine,” Maria said, though her voice wavered.

Her mother shook her head. “No, you’re not. You’ve barely left your room in days, and I know you’re avoiding your friends. You’re shutting everyone out, Maria.”

I just—” Maria’s voice cracked, and she looked down at her hands, gripping the edge of the table. “I don’t know how to... how to deal with it.”

Her mother’s expression softened, and she took a step closer. “Deal with what, honey?”

Maria hesitated, the words stuck in her throat. How could she explain it? How could she make her mother understand the gnawing fear, the constant dread that clung to her like a shadow? It wasn’t something that could be fixed with comforting words or a pep talk. It was deeper than that, more consuming.

“Everything,” Maria whispered, her voice barely audible. “The future, failing, losing everything... I’m scared, Mom.”

Her mother’s eyes softened with a mix of sadness and understanding. She reached out, placing a hand gently on Maria’s shoulder. “It’s okay to be scared. But you don’t have to go through it alone.”

For a moment, Maria allowed herself to lean into the comfort of her mother’s presence, but the fear still lingered, pressing in at the edges. The future was still out there, waiting for her, and no amount of reassurance could change that.

“I just don’t know if I can handle it,” Maria admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her mother squeezed her shoulder gently, her eyes filled with quiet determination. “You can. And you will. But you need to let people in, Maria. You can’t push everyone away because you’re scared. Eric, Sophie, Lila—they all care about you. And so do I.”

Maria nodded, though the doubt still gnawed at her. She wanted to believe her mother, and she wanted to believe that she wasn’t as alone as she felt. But the shadows of tomorrow loomed large, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were coming for her, slowly but surely.