📘 chapter one
My fingers moved slowly across the tablet screen, sketching lines into something only I could understand. Drawing always helped me breathe.
But of course, that peace couldn't last long.
"Eliana,"
my mother's voice cut through my focus like a knife, sharp and irritated.
"What is wrong with you? You're always on that phone. Can't you do something useful once in your life?"
I blinked. My lips parted to speak, but nothing came out. My throat tightened, and my heart twisted painfully in my chest.
"Your brother is already ahead of you,"
she snapped, walking into my room uninvited. "Always reading, always improving. And you? Still wasting time with nonsense."
I didn't say a word. Not because I agreed, but because I didn't want to be disrespectful. Because if I said something, anything, I'd either sound like a brat…
or I'd break.
So I stayed silent.
Held back the tears.
Bit down on my tongue until it almost bled.
I grabbed my bag and shoved my headphones in. I needed to get out of the house before I said something I'd regret. The air felt too heavy to breathe in there. My chest was tight, my eyes already stinging, but I blinked it all back. I didn't want her to see me cry. Not again.
So I walked out with no destination. Just anywhere but home.
The beach wasn't far, so I went there. It's the only place that calms me down. The waves, the wind, the quiet.
I sat where the water kissed the sand, pulled my knees to my chest, and just stared at the horizon.
I wanted to scream.
The woman you just saw earlier? That's my mom.
And she's been like that my whole life, always comparing me to my siblings. Mostly my elder brother. Sometimes my sister. Or even my friends. But mostly him.
No matter how hard I try, it's never enough.
He's the smart one. The golden boy.
"Look at his grades," she says.
Be more like him," she says.
Every. Damn. Time.
I remember when it all began.
[Flashback: 2008]
I was six.
My brother, Max, was five.
Mom stood in the living room holding our test papers. She looked at his first, a perfect score.
"Wow! A hundred? Max, you did so well! What do you want me to get you?"
He grinned. "A toy car!"
"Of course, sweetie," she said, hugging him
Then she looked at mine. A 70.
Her smile dropped.
"What the hell is this, Eliana? How can your five year old brother get a hundred, and you score seventy? I am so disappointed in you."
I looked down. I felt the tears coming. I couldn't stop them.
"Don't you dare cry in my face!" she snapped. "Get the hell out of my sight."
[Present 2025]
I leaned back, letting the waves kiss the tips of my shoes.
The sea always knew to listen without judging. It didn't care about scores, or titles, or the fact that my brother was the so- called genius and I was…well, just me.
The wind carried salt and silence. I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my chin on them.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to cry.
But instead, I just sat there. Quiet.
Quiet like always.
I think that's what I have learned to do best. shrink into silence.
My phone buzzed. One Message From Mom:
"Where the hell are you? At least help clean the house if you are not stuying."
Of course. Even when I disappear, it's never because I need space.
It's because I am inconvenient.
I tossed my phone beside me on the sand.
I stayed there for a while. Just sitting. Letting the waves do the talking for me.
No one noticed me. No one asked anything.
Maybe that's why I liked the beach. It didn't need anything from me.
Eventually, the sky began to dim. I didn't want to go back. But I couldn't sleep out here.
So I stood up, brushed the sand off my jeans, and headed home.
When I got back, the house was quiet. Not because anyone was asleep, just quiet the way it gets when people don't care to ask if you are okay.
I didn't want to give anyone a reason to complain, so I grabbed a mop and started cleaning.
I wiped the floor. Picked up every stray cup, every shoe, every piece of trash. As if maybe, if I scrubbed hard enough, they'd stop seeing me as a disappointment.
After everything was spotless, I went into my room.
No one noticed what I had done.
Of course they didn't
I didn't bother turning on the lights. I just lay in the dark, headphones on, letting the music drown me out.
And maybe, just maybe, I cried a little.
But quietly.
Always quietly.
if you have ever felt like you weren't enough.
like your voice didn't matter,
or your best was never" good enough"...
Then maybe, just maybe, this story is for you.
I hope Eliana's journey will make you feel seen.
I hope Eliana's journey will make you feel seen.
Thank you for reading.
with love
Diyah 🤍