The morning arrives, creeping in slowly through the blinds. I wake with a heaviness in my chest, the anticipation of the day weighing on me.
My phone buzzes with a reminder of the gathering. It’s my sister, a quick text.
“See you later.”
Her words are simple, but they carry an expectation I can’t ignore.
I rise, moving through the motions of getting ready, the mundane actions grounding me.
My mind drifts back to our childhood, the easy laughter, the shared secrets.
Those moments feel distant now, obscured by the fog of unresolved tension.
The drive to our parents’ house is quiet, the road stretching before me like an uncertain path.
I arrive, greeted by familiar faces, but the tension lingers, unspoken.
My brother approaches, his presence a comfort in the gathering storm.
“Glad you made it,” he says, his tone warm.
But I can’t shake the feeling of something left unsaid, something waiting to surface.
The day unfolds in fits and starts, conversations half-formed, laughter forced.
My sister’s presence is like a shadow, a reminder of the distance between us.
I try to bridge the gap, but the words don’t come.
I find myself retreating into silence, the weight of the day pressing down.
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