Chapter one

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"Strong people break too. We just do it quietly, rebuild and keep it moving." - unknown

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💫 Maya 💫

Everyone has a breaking point. How can people expect life to be without it's challenges? There is always something or someone bringing you down. You just need enough self-knowledge to realise when you need help bringing yourself up again. 

In my life, I thought I had reached the breaking point a few times before. But as I stand over the fresh grave and think about the person who's life was cut short, consumed by grief so intense I can feel nothing else, I wonder if this is the true breaking point they always talk about. 

And I don't know if I can come back from it. 


~3 months earlier~

It's just another normal tuesday, nothing out of the ordinary. Wake up, make breakfast, go to school, come home, finish my homework, cook dinner and go to bed. Just like it has always been. I like it like this, a routine set in stone, no need to worry about unexpected things to come at me. And just like every day, I lay in bed and go over the day ahead of me. 

Except today is not a normal tuesday, today marks the 7th anniversary of my mother's death. To be honest, it doesn't effect me very much. Don't get me wrong, she was nice but she was never really a mother. Everything I did was wrong, I could never do anything right in her eyes. 

Since we moved to the small village in the Netherlands two weeks ago, life has been shit. I can't understand anything the people in school say and my step-father has started drinking again. He says it is because of the changes of the move but I think it's because he can't get his hands on his drugs so tries to dull the ache with alcohol. 

I woke up at 6.45 to make breakfast for my step-father but it is hard to move around the house with my broken arm and bruised ribs. Those are also the reason we had to move, people started asking questions. 

To answer them, he pushed me down the stairs when breakfast wasn't ready on time. It's my fault, really. I forgot to get a new alarm clock after mine broke. 

After eating an apple myself, I get on my bike and start the 45 minutes to school. Have you ever tried biking with a broken arm? It's fucking hard. 

On the way to school I think about all the things that I still have to do at home. Most of the boxes still need to be unpacked and the groceries don't get themselves. I basically do everything in the house, it has been like that since I can remember. 

When I get to school, I just try to blend into the crowds, after a while you become a master at fitting in the background. 

Not all teachers had been informed about me not talking on day one which led to some angry teachers and curious students. It's not that I can't talk, it's just that I have found nothing good comes from it. 

At home, everything I said would be turned against me so I kept saying less and less until one day, I just stopped talking all together. I think I was around 12 years old. Over the years, I have found that I only talk to close friends and people I feel comfortable around. But after the move there are no friends left to talk to. 

After the schoolday, which seemed to be going by as slow as a slug, the bell signaling the end of 6th period finally rings making it 16.20. I go home as fast as I can because he likes to have dinner at 17.30. 

When I come home, I directely start making dinner and notice the plate with breakfast is still out, uneaten. Weird. Maybe he was in a hurry this morning and forgot to eat breakfast? That's probably it. 

I still make dinner because it is my job to do so and when I don't do my job, it gives my step-father a reason to do things. Things I deserve for not doing it properly. It usually involves the belt. 

After dinner is ready I put it in the microwave to keep it warm untill he comes home and take a small portion with myself upstairs. I finish the food and get ready for bed, noticing the belt marks on my back are almost completely healed after almost a month. The hand-shaped bruise on my upper arm on the other hand is more noticable than yesterday. 

After a quick shower without getting my hair wet I change into my pj's and lay down on my single bed. I look around my room, a bed, wardrobe and small desk with my schoolbooks is all there is in the small bedroom. 

I never needed more to keep me occupied, I don't get a lot of free time being too busy keeping the house up to standards.  

The darkness consumed me pretty quickly.


A/N - so that was the first chapter, what do you think? Feel free to comment ideas or just to say hi! 

love you <3

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