Everyone knew her as the girl with the easy laugh — soft, honest, and always a little contagious. In school, she was the one who passed little notes with doodles on the corners, who remembered birthdays without needing a reminder, who always offered the last piece of candy even if it was her favorite.
With her friends, she was light..
Bright, like warm sunlight through leaves.
But no one ever asked..what waited behind the quiet door of her house.
There, the silence was heavier. Not peaceful, but tight.. Like walking on cracked glass. Her mother always had tired eyes, her father was hardly around, and when he was, it felt worse. Words thrown like knives, silence used as punishment. The walls were thin, but everyone pretended not to hear.
She never talked about it. Not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't know how.
So she smiled more. Laughed louder. Made herself useful. Her friends saw her glow, but they didn't see how much of it came from trying to drown out the shadows.
At night, behind the quiet door, she'd lie in bed and hold her pillow close. That's when her smile would slip. That's when she let herself be tired — not just from school, but from pretending everything was fine.