Every day feels like a test of endurance, a never-ending cycle of chores and responsibilities. As I scrub the kitchen floor, I can't help but feel the weight of my family's expectations pressing down on me. I've become an expert at hiding my exhaustion behind a smile, but inside, I'm crumbling.
My parents are in the living room, their voices rising in excitement over a television show I can't bring myself to care about. I know they'll barely notice if I slip away to my room for a moment of peace. But before I can escape, Sophia walks in, her phone in hand, already engrossed in a text conversation.
"Can you take Ethan to the park later?" she asks, barely glancing up. "I need to study for my finals."
"Sure," I reply, forcing cheer into my voice even as resentment simmers beneath the surface. It's never a question of if I'll do it; it's just an expectation I've learned to accept. As she walks away, I can't help but wonder if I'll ever be more than just the one everyone relies on.
As I finish up the kitchen, I catch sight of Ethan playing in the yard through the window, his laughter a sweet sound against the backdrop of my turmoil. I love him fiercely, but the thought of being responsible for him again fills me with dread. It's not just about babysitting; it's about how every moment I give him is a moment taken from my own dreams.
The evening stretches on, and when I finally do take Ethan to the park, I watch him run off to join his friends. As I sit on a bench, I can't shake the feeling that life is passing me by. The sun begins to set, casting a golden hue over everything, and I feel a pang of longing for something-anything-that could pull me out of this cycle of obligation.
Just as I'm lost in thought, I notice a group of teenagers setting up a small stage for an open mic night at the park. The sound of laughter and music drifts over, and I feel a flutter of hope ignite within me.
"What's that?" Ethan asks, plopping down beside me, his eyes wide with excitement.
"It's an open mic night," I explain, though my voice feels distant. "They let people perform."
"Can you perform?" he asks, tilting his head in that adorable way that makes me smile.
The question hits me like a wave. "No, I can't," I reply too quickly, the familiar fear creeping in. I've never shared my voice outside of the safety of my room, and the thought of standing up there makes my stomach twist.
"Why not?" he presses, his innocent curiosity cutting through my hesitation.
"Because... because I'm not good enough," I whisper, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
Ethan frowns, clearly confused. "You're the best sister ever! You have to try!"
His unwavering belief in me is both heartwarming and painful. I wish I could believe in myself the way he does. But instead, I bury my dreams beneath layers of doubt, where they can't be touched by the harsh reality of my life.
As the sun dips below the horizon, the music fills the air, and I find myself captivated by the performers, their voices resonating with raw emotion. In those moments, I realize how much I crave the freedom to express myself, to let my voice be heard. But for now, I remain silent, tucked away in the shadows.
YOU ARE READING
HEART'S IN THE SHADOWS
FantasyLila has always been the forgotten child, overshadowed by her parents' attention toward her half-siblings and younger brother. Despite her love and dedication, she is treated as little more than a servant in her own home-unseen, unheard, and unloved...
