The Space Between us

4

Chapter Four: The Quiet

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Eden slipped her headphones back into her ears as she walked out of the classroom, her steps heavy, her mind still swirling with everything she hadn't said, everything she hadn't processed. It was the same as it always was-the weight of grief and loss lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for any crack in her armor.

She didn't have anyone to talk to. No one she could lean on, not really. Her ex-best friend had already proven that, and the people at school were just faces she passed by.

Walking home felt like a quiet escape. The air was crisp as she made her way down the familiar path to her house. She could feel the exhaustion pulling at her with every step, not from the walk, but from the emotional weight of the day.

Home was the last place she wanted to be. The walls of the house were too quiet, too empty. There was no warmth waiting for her, no one to greet her with a smile. She had been alone in that house for years, and each day it felt more like a prison than a sanctuary.

When Eden reached the front door, she fumbled for her keys, feeling the sharp edge of loneliness settle into her bones. The door creaked open, and the smell of microwave meals and cheap takeout filled the air.

Her mom was there, as usual, sitting at the kitchen table with her phone in hand, barely noticing her entrance.

"Hey," Eden said quietly, not expecting much.

Her mom glanced up briefly, her face tired, her eyes distant. "Food's on the counter," she muttered, already looking back at her phone.

Eden nodded, not bothering to respond. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed the cold, plastic-wrapped meal sitting on the counter-another frozen dinner that had been left for her. It was always the same. Her mom came home late from work, dropped off food, and left again to be with her boyfriend.

Eden didn't know when her mom had started prioritizing him over everything else, but it felt like a slow erosion of their relationship. She had tried talking to her mom about it, telling her about the bruises, about how she was scared and angry. But her mom always dismissed it, brushing her concerns off like they were nothing.

The boyfriend-Mark-had come into their lives when Eden was in 8th grade. She'd thought he was a jerk the moment she met him. He had that cocky, condescending attitude that made her skin crawl, but her mom had fallen for it, despite the red flags. There were times when Mark seemed kind enough, but those moments were always followed by something dark-something cold.

Eden had seen the bruises her mom tried to hide, the way she flinched whenever Mark raised his voice. She had begged her mom to leave him, to find someone better, someone who wouldn't hurt her. But her mom always had an excuse. And over time, Eden gave up.

It had been that way for years.

Eden couldn't help but think back to when things were different. When her family was whole, when her dad was still alive. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Her dad had passed away when she was in 6th grade-complications from a medical issue that no one had seen coming. One moment, he was there, laughing with her, helping her with her homework, and the next, he was gone. It had torn apart something inside her, a part of her she didn't even know existed until he was gone.

After his death, the house felt quieter, emptier. Her mom had been a shell of herself, lost in her own grief. But Eden was left to cope with it alone. She had siblings, five of them, but they had all moved out by the time Eden was in middle school, starting their own lives, leaving her alone with a grieving mother and a house full of silence.

Eden had never really gotten over losing her dad. She had tried, of course-she had to. But there were days, like today, when it felt like his absence was a hole in her chest, one that she couldn't fill.

Then, in freshman year, her grandpa had passed away, too. It had been another blow, another reminder that the people she loved could be taken from her without warning. The loss of her grandpa had been different-it hadn't left her reeling in the same way her dad's death had. But it was still a loss, one more thing to add to the pile of grief that had already piled up over the years.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Eden stared at the food in front of her, her stomach twisting. She wasn't hungry. She never really was. The loneliness in this house had a way of stealing her appetite.

As she picked at the cold meal, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was trapped-trapped in a house that felt more like a tomb, trapped in a life that felt like it was slipping through her fingers. Her mom wasn't there to talk, her siblings were long gone, and her dad was just a memory that she couldn't touch.

Everything felt like it was falling apart, piece by piece, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was still early-too early to go to bed, but too late to do anything meaningful. The house was quiet, the silence almost deafening.

After finishing the small meal, Eden pushed her chair back and stood up, the weight of the day settling back in. She didn't know what to do next. She didn't know where to go.

All she had was herself. And it felt like that was never enough.