Chapter 26: Breaking Under Pressure

The house was unbearably quiet. Mary sat at the dining table, tracing invisible patterns on the surface, pretending to focus on her textbooks. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, but the hours dragged like days. Her father hadn't spoken a word since returning from work. He sat in the corner of the living room, staring at the wall, lost in thought. His once firm shoulders now slumped, weighed down by invisible burdens.

Mary stole a glance at her mother, who was frantically typing on an old computer at the edge of the dining table. Emily's glasses slipped down her nose, and strands of her graying hair stuck to her damp forehead. She had taken extra shifts at the library, hoping to make ends meet, but it wasn't enough.

"David," Emily said softly, almost hesitantly. "How was the garage today?"

Mary's father didn't respond. He tightened his jaw, his fingers gripping the armrest of the chair as if trying to anchor himself. The silence stretched, suffocating them all.

"David, we can't keep—" Emily began, but her voice broke, and she quickly turned back to her work.

Mary bit her lip and looked down at her notes, though the words on the page blurred together. She hated this tension. It was like a heavy fog that seeped into every corner of the house, leaving her gasping for air.

That night, Mary overheard the argument.

"I'm trying, Emily," David's voice was low, almost a growl. "Do you think I like coming home with nothing? I lost my biggest customer today. They're taking their business to someone cheaper."

"Cheaper? David, we're already barely scraping by! How are we supposed to pay Mary's school fees next session?. You know mark has already been sent back from school because of money, How are we supposed to—"

"I don't know!" David shouted, and then there was silence.

Mary pressed her hands over her ears, but it didn't stop the guilt from creeping in. She thought of Mark, of his bright smile and the pride their parents always showed when talking about him. Mark deserved better. 

********

The next day at school, Mona and Ryan were unusually friendly to mary.

"You're looking better today," Mona said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm glad you're finally taking care of yourself."

Mary blinked in surprise. She wasn't used to compliments from Mona. Ryan chimed in, "Yeah, Mary. I've been meaning to tell you—you're really strong for handling everything. Not everyone can."

It was strange, their sudden change in behavior. But for the first time in weeks, Mona was nice to her. Despite her doubts, Mary allowed herself to believe that maybe they weren't so bad after all.

That night, her father returned home even later than usual. He sat at the table, staring at his hands, and didn't say a word. Emily was still at the library, and the house felt cold and empty. Mary could feel the weight of it all crushing her. She wasn't strong like Ryan said.

In the privacy of her room, she pulled out the pin she kept hidden in her drawer. Her breathing was shallow as tears blurred her vision. The sharp sting that followed was familiar—a brief escape from the storm raging inside her. But tonight, it was worse. The pain was deeper, the despair heavier.

When it was over, Mary stared at the crimson lines on her arm. She pulled her sleeve down quickly, shame washing over her. She curled up on her bed, trembling. The silence of the house enveloped her, and for the first time, she wondered if she could ever find her way back from this darkness.