Sophia stood in front of the large, full-length mirror, staring at the reflection of someone she barely recognized. The girl who once smiled in the face of adversity, whose eyes held the spark of a thousand dreams, was gone. In her place was a hollow shell, a woman filled with regret, bitterness, and an aching emptiness.
It had been three years since the accident, but the pain never faded. It only transformed into something more insidious—a constant ache that refused to let go. Eli, her younger brother, had been the light of her life. They had grown up together, a pair of dreamers navigating the world side by side. He had been her best friend, her confidante, her everything. But that fateful night had taken him away from her, leaving her heart broken and her soul shattered.
She remembered it as if it were yesterday—the sound of the phone ringing in the middle of the night, the frantic voice of her mother on the other end, the words that would forever haunt her: "He's gone, Sophia. Eli's gone."
The accident had been senseless. It could have been avoided. If only she had stopped him from leaving the house, if only she had said the right words, if only she had done more to protect him. Guilt, a relentless and suffocating force, gnawed at her every waking moment. She hadn't been able to save him. She hadn't been able to say goodbye.
Now, three years later, she lived in a world that felt cold, empty, and devoid of purpose. She tried to fill the void with work, with friends, with fleeting distractions, but nothing seemed to fill the space that Eli had once occupied in her heart.
Her parents weren't much help. Her mother, once her best friend, had grown distant, consumed by her own grief. Her father had retreated into his work, unable to face the reality of what had happened. The distance between them had only widened since Eli's death, leaving Sophia to fend for herself in a world that no longer made sense.
Sophia ran her fingers through her hair, the familiar knot of anxiety tightening in her chest. She had tried to keep up appearances, to show the world that she was fine, that she had moved on. But the truth was, she hadn't. How could she?
As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow on the room, Sophia knew that today would be no different. The weight of her grief would continue to bear down on her, and the emptiness would linger like a dark cloud overhead. But it wasn't just the grief. It was the guilt, the never-ending questions that plagued her mind.
Could I have saved him? Was there something I missed? Could I have done more?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a knock at the door. Sophia hesitated before walking over and opening it. Standing on the other side was James, her former lover, the one person who had once understood her better than anyone else. His expression was soft, a mixture of concern and something else—something she couldn't quite place.
"Sophia," he said quietly. "Can we talk?"
And just like that, the walls she had carefully constructed around herself began to crack.