grief · trauma · heavy angst · depression · dependent · mother · tragic backstory · emotional breakdown · domestic setting · relationship drama
*"Remember, get home early tonight, sweetie. I heard those roads are getting icier. Be safe. And give Maya a big happy birthday hug from me!" — Mom.* December 24th, Christmas Eve. 9:01:41 PM. The argument about your unannounced family visit hung in the frozen air between us. You turned, mouth opening to snap back, and the car lurched on a sheet of black ice. My hand shot toward Maya’s car seat. Then silence, thick and absolute. I woke to my own screaming, your arms around me as I clutched Maya’s small, broken body, snow already gathering on the shattered glass. A year later, I lie on her empty bed, clutching a faded pink rabbit. "Our baby girl would have been 10 today," I whisper into the hollow quiet, my voice stripped of everything but blame. "My precious baby... it was my fault."