Life had been nothing short of perfect. Serena's days were filled with laughter, sports, and endless chatter. She thrived in her own unique way—a little bundle of energy excelling on the field and in art. Her family was her greatest support. With her mother's unwavering dedication, Ryan's steady guidance, and Nicole's disciplined companionship, Serena managed to stay afloat in academics, scoring decently enough to make her parents proud.
Her mother, the backbone of the family, was a woman of immense strength and love. Despite not pursuing a career, she poured her heart into her children, ensuring they had everything they needed to succeed. She was the one who stayed up late, sitting with Serena and Ryan, helping with homework, reviewing notes, and quizzing them before exams. She believed her children could achieve greatness, and her belief in them never wavered.
It had been two years since that perfect rhythm began. Serena was now seven, still as free-spirited as ever, with her mischief only growing by the day. Ryan, now eleven, had become the steady, dependable older brother who seemed to excel at everything he touched. Their father worked tirelessly, running the family diamond business and ensuring they lived comfortably.
But, as Serena would learn, life has a way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them.
The first signs of trouble began subtly. Serena had noticed her parents whispering more often, their faces etched with worry. Her mother seemed quieter, her laughter less frequent. Even though Serena's young mind didn't fully comprehend the weight of the situation, she picked up on the tension lingering in the air.
One evening, she overheard snippets of a hushed conversation between her parents. Words like "prison," "bail," and "depression" floated to her ears, but they didn't make sense to her. It wasn't until much later that she would understand. Her maternal grandfather and uncle were serving prison time for a serious offense, and the weight of it had plunged her mother into a deep depression.
Her father, ever the problem-solver, had thrown himself into trying to fix everything. He worked tirelessly, coordinating legal help, making phone calls late into the night, and juggling his work alongside his family's turmoil. He wanted to bring back the happiness that seemed to have slipped from their home.
One day, after weeks of effort, he finally succeeded. Serena's grandfather and uncle were granted bail, and her father couldn't wait to share the good news with his wife. He planned a surprise—a quiet evening where they could talk, free from the shadow of worry that had loomed over them for so long.
But fate had a different plan.
That afternoon, Serena and Ryan were walking home from school. They were laughing, racing each other, as they often did, to see who could reach the house first. "Last one's a slowpoke!" Serena yelled, her little legs pumping furiously. She was determined to win.
As they reached the entrance gate, Serena surged ahead, declaring victory with a triumphant shout. "I win, Ryan! I win!" she exclaimed, out of breath but glowing with pride.
But her triumph was short-lived.
She burst through the front door, eager to find her mother and share the news of her victory. "Mommy! I won! Ryan's the slowpoke!" she called out, her voice echoing through the house.
The silence that greeted her was unsettling. She frowned, her small feet carrying her quickly to her parents' room. That's when she saw her.
Her mother was lying on the bed, still and unresponsive. At first, Serena thought she was sleeping. She tiptoed closer, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Mommy, wake up! I won the race!" she said, tugging gently at her mother's hand.
But her mother didn't stir.
Confusion turned to fear as Serena noticed the empty pill bottle on the bedside table. Her heart began to race, and her tiny voice trembled as she called out again, louder this time. "Mommy? Mommy, wake up!"
Ryan appeared in the doorway, his face pale as he took in the scene. "Serena, stay here," he said, his voice shaking. He turned and ran out of the house, clutching his school bag as if it were a lifeline.
Their father was at the office, immersed in his work, when the phone rang. It was Ryan, his voice frantic and barely coherent. "Papa... Papa, come home... Mommy... Mommy... come home!"
Hearing the panic in Ryan's voice, their father didn't wait for an explanation. He dropped everything and rushed home, his heart pounding with fear.
Their father rushed in moments later, his face ashen. He froze for a split second before gathering his wife in his arms, shaking her gently. "Wake up Hunny, please," he whispered, his voice breaking. Tears streamed down his face as he cradled her lifeless body, his sobs filling the room.
Serena stood frozen, her young mind unable to process what was happening. She tugged at her father's sleeve, her own eyes filling with tears. "Daddy, why is Mommy not waking up? Did I do something wrong?" she asked, her voice small and scared.
Her father couldn't bring himself to answer. How could he explain to his seven-year-old daughter that her mother had succumbed to a darkness too deep to escape? That she had chosen to leave them, even as they loved her with all their hearts?
The days that followed were a blur. The house, once filled with laughter and life, was now heavy with grief. Serena couldn't understand why everyone was crying. She kept asking when her mother would come back, clinging to the belief that this was all a misunderstanding. "She's just angry with me for not finishing my homework," she told her father one evening. "She'll come back when I promise to do it, right?"
Her father could only hold her close, his own tears falling silently. He wished he could shield her from the pain, from the reality that her mother would never return.
For little Serena, the loss was incomprehensible. Her perfect world had shattered, and though she didn't fully grasp it at the time, the memory of that day would haunt her for years to come. It was the day she lost not just her mother, but a part of her childhood innocence—a day that would mark the beginning of a journey through grief, resilience, and eventually, healing.