Sage Rose Parker, a seventeen almost eighteen year old girl getting ready for college with her two friends.
Having the world on her shoulders and her past in her mind she's down to break.
An alcoholic as a mother and an abusive father in jail didn'...
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The Ties That Bind ================================== In the spaces between words, in the moments when silence screams, I find myself tangled in the things I don't say— the things I don't even understand.
I stand at the edge of choices, where the pull of what I want clashes with the weight of what I need, but the lines blur until I can't tell the difference.
Trust is fragile— a thin thread pulled too tight, ready to snap, and yet I can't help but cling to it.
Do I hold on to what feels safe, or step into the unknown, risking everything for a chance to finally feel free? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The scent of warm cinnamon and vanilla wraps around me like a blanket—thick and sweet, clinging to my clothes and hair. The hum of conversation, the clink of ceramic mugs, the low whirl of the espresso machine—it's all background noise at this point. I've been here long enough to move on autopilot, smiling at customers, scribbling orders on the little notepad tucked into my apron, pretending everything is fine.
"Can I get a slice of the raspberry lemon loaf?" the woman in front of me asks, leaning forward slightly over the counter. Her sunglasses are pushed into her hair, and she's holding her phone between her cheek and shoulder like she's juggling three lives at once.
"Of course," I say, offering a small smile as I turn to grab it from the display case. The glass fogs a little with every breath, and I catch a faint reflection of myself—tired eyes, hair pulled into a messy ponytail, and that fake-happy customer service face I've gotten way too good at.
I wrap the slice carefully, place it in a little white box with our logo stamped on top, and hand it to her. She thanks me, distracted, and walks off already halfway back into whatever call she was on.
As soon as she's gone, I exhale and lean my elbows on the counter, letting my eyes drift to the back wall like it holds answers I haven't figured out yet.
Jade.
Her name alone makes my stomach twist. I've been thinking about her all day, guilt simmering just beneath the surface. We've only been fighting for a few hours, but it feels like something vital's been knocked out of place. Like I'm missing a piece of myself and everything is tilted just slightly wrong.
She's been my best friend for years. My anchor. My constant.
And now, silence.
I keep replaying that argument over and over—every word, every look, every sharp edge I didn't mean to throw. And Mike... god, I didn't even mean to drag him into it. He was just trying to help.
Maybe Owen's right.
Maybe they don't really get me.
But still...
I miss her. So much it aches in a way I didn't expect.
And it's stupid—so, so stupid—but I keep comparing this feeling to something I swore I buried a long time ago.
