Weight Of Roles

I wake up to the familiar sound of my mother’s voice cutting through the quiet of the early morning.

"Raven! Are you awake? The kids need to be ready in an hour!"

I rub my eyes, the grogginess still heavy in my limbs. "College is supposed to be exciting. Instead, I’m stuck playing housemaid—again."

I slide out of bed, glancing at the mirror briefly, catching the fading bruise on my wrist, one of many. I’m careful to cover it as I pull on a long-sleeved shirt. I’ve gotten good at hiding.

"Raven!" My mother’s voice is sharper this time, echoing through the hall.

"I'm coming," I mumble under my breath, but before I can even step out of my room, she’s there, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, an impatient scowl on her face.

"Why are you always so slow? James and Lily need to be ready for school. I can’t do everything, you know."

I swallow the frustration bubbling inside me. “I know, I just need a few minutes to get ready myself. It’s my first day too, remember?”

She waves her hand dismissively as if my life outside of this house barely exists. "Their first day matters more. You’re the responsible one, Raven. Start acting like it."

I open my mouth to protest, but before I can get a word out, her hand moves faster than my thoughts, connecting with my cheek in a sharp slap. My head snaps to the side, stinging heat spreading across my skin.

Instantly, her face softens, eyes wide like she didn’t mean to do it. "Oh honey, I'm sorry. You made me so angry... I didn’t mean to. But you know it’s your fault, right?"

I nod, not because I believe it, but because it's easier this way. “I’ll get them ready,” I say quietly, turning away from her.

"Good girl. See, you know how to keep things running smoothly." She pats my arm like I’m some kind of obedient pet before she disappears down the hall.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady the trembling in my hands. I can’t cry. Not now.

After getting James and Lily ready, I wait by the window for the bus to come. They’re both chattering about their day, oblivious to the storm brewing in me. As the yellow bus pulls up, I help them on, watching until it turns the corner and disappears.

Only then do I head back inside. My parents’ bedroom door is shut tight, just as I expected. I can hear the low murmur of their voices, but I don't bother knocking. I know better than to disturb them.

I walk past it, my feet carrying me to the safety of my room. Once the door is locked behind me, I lean against it, feeling the weight of the morning settle in my chest. Slowly, I make my way to the mirror again.

The reflection that stares back at me looks tired—older than I should be at my age. I pull up my sleeve, staring at the patches of skin bruised from old hits and a few new ones. It’s not the first time. It won’t be the last.

"I wonder what it’s like—to be pretty, to be normal. To not live under layers of fabric and forced smiles. But that’s not me, is it?"

I sigh, turning away from the mirror and throwing on the rest of my clothes. College was supposed to be a fresh start, but now, it feels like just another cage. Another place where I’ll have to pretend everything is fine.

By the time I arrive at campus, it’s buzzing with energy—students rushing to classes, laughing with friends, completely unaware of the weight I carry.

I spot Sophie near the entrance, her eyes scanning the crowd until they land on me.

“Raven!” She waves me over, a wide smile on her face. I force myself to return it.

“Hey,” I say, joining her.

“Ready for the first day?” she asks, but her eyes are already scanning the papers in her hands, probably hoping I’ll help her with something like always.

“Yeah, ready as I’ll ever be,” I murmur.

She doesn’t even notice the lie.

The hallway buzzed with students moving between classes, their laughter echoing off the walls, but it felt distant to me, as though I was walking through a fog. Sophie trailed beside me, her usual perkiness shining through as she flipped through her schedule.

“So, we have a break before the next class,” she said, her voice filled with energy. “Do you want to grab a coffee or…”

I barely registered what she was saying. The campus, though new, felt like every other place I’d been—people moved past me as if I didn’t exist. And maybe I didn’t, at least not in any way that mattered to them.

Sophie looked up from her papers, her green eyes catching my distant expression.

“Are you even listening?” She tried to laugh it off, but her words had a slight edge.

I forced a nod, my lips pulling into the same small smile I always gave. “Yeah, sure. Coffee sounds good.”

“Great,” she replied, as though she hadn’t really expected me to disagree.

As we walked toward the campus café, I noticed a couple of familiar faces from high school standing by the entrance. My heart sank.

“Isn’t that Emelie and Jack?” Sophie said with a bright tone, waving at them.

I hadn’t seen them since graduation, and to be honest, I hadn’t wanted to. Emelie’s eyes lit up in surprise when she saw Sophie, but her smile faded slightly when her gaze landed on me.

“Sophie, oh my god!” Emelie exclaimed, rushing over and pulling Sophie into a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming here!”

She beamed. “Yeah, well, new beginnings and all that,” she said, glancing at me for a moment.

Jack, standing beside Emelie, looked over at me with a smirk that made my skin crawl. He was always the type who found joy in mocking those who didn’t quite fit in. Like me.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Jack said, his tone dripping with mock surprise. “I thought you’d have, I don’t know, disappeared off the face of the Earth by now.”

I felt Sophie shift beside me, but she didn’t say anything in my defense. I tried to ignore the stinging in my chest, but Jack continued.

“You still hanging out with Sophie, huh? Must be nice to have someone to rely on.” He gave Sophie a look that I couldn’t quite read—something between pity and amusement.

Emelie chimed in, her voice that cut deeper than Jack’s teasing.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. I was used to this.

I’d been used to it for years, but that didn’t make it any easier. They saw me as a burden. Even Sophie, the person I thought was my friend, didn’t really see me—she saw someone she could pity, someone who made her look better by comparison.

Emelie giggled, clearly enjoying the exchange. “You’re such a good person, Sophie. Really. Not everyone would put up with… well, you know.”

I wanted to disappear. I pulled the sleeves of my sweater down further, hiding my hands.

The fabric brushed against my skin, covering the bruises that had been there for too long to remember when they first appeared.

Sophie turned to me, her expression shifting into something almost sympathetic. “You don’t mind, do you, Raven? I mean, it’s not like you’re the social butterfly type anyway.”

The words were meant to be harmless, but the sting of them hit deeper than I’d expected. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“Right,” she continued as if my silence was the answer she’d expected. “Anyway, we should get going. Class starts soon.”

Emelie and Jack said their goodbyes, and as Sophie and I walked away, the heavy silence between us only grew. My chest tightened, but I forced myself to stay composed, my face carefully neutral.

Once we were alone, Sophie sighed, glancing at me. “You know they didn’t mean it, right? They were just… joking.”

Joking. That’s what it always was—people making jokes at my expense, Sophie standing by, not really defending me but not quite agreeing either. The middle ground was where she thrived.

I shrugged, trying to make it seem like it didn’t matter. “It’s fine.”

Sophie smiled, relieved. “I’m glad you understand. I mean, people just don’t get you like I do. You’re lucky to have someone who can help you, you know?”

Her words hung in the air, and I realized at that moment, that as much as I’d tried to deny it, Sophie didn’t see me as a friend. She saw me as something broken that she could fix—or worse, as someone who made her look better by comparison. And I’d let it happen because, deep down, I believed she was right.

“Yeah,” I said softly, my voice barely audible over the sounds of campus life buzzing around us. “I guess I am.”

Sophie smiled, oblivious to the weight of my words, and continued talking about the next class, while I remained silent, trapped in the familiar role I’d always played.

But something in me stirs. Quiet. Simmering. Not resentment—something colder, heavier. Something I don’t have a name for yet.