HIDDEN HEARTS - CHAPTER ONE
THE FIGHT
By Abi May
The front door slammed hard behind Isla, the sharp noise echoing off the walls like a warning. Her breath caught in her chest, fast and shallow — a rhythm she was trying desperately to control. The house was quiet except for the faint tick of the old clock in the hallway.
She dropped her backpack carelessly on the floor, hands trembling as she wiped the sweat from her palms on her jeans. Her heart hammered like a drum, heavy and chaotic, threatening to burst free.
“I almost had an episode at school today.” The words slipped out before she could stop them — a whispered confession that felt like a grenade tossed into the stillness.
The kitchen door creaked open behind her, and her mother’s voice cut through the room like broken glass. “What did you just say?”
Isla didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to face the storm she knew was coming.
Her mother stepped inside, eyes wide with shock and fury. “You what?”
Isla swallowed hard, voice barely audible. “I… I almost had an episode.”
Her father appeared in the doorway, face tight and red with anger. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?” His voice thundered, shaking the walls.
Isla’s breath hitched, her fingers digging into her jeans. “I’m telling you the truth.”
Her mother’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “The truth? You’re ruining everything.”
“I’m not ruining anything!” Isla shouted, her voice cracking with desperation. “I can’t keep pretending I’m fine!”
Her father’s fists clenched at his sides. “You’re embarrassing us. Bringing shame on this family.”
Isla shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m scared. I’m struggling.”
Her mother laughed, sharp and bitter. “Scared? You think this is about you?”
Isla’s hands trembled as she took a step back, the walls closing in like a cage. “It’s my life!”
Her father advanced, towering over her. “We’re doing this for your own good. You don’t get to decide who knows.”
“I have to decide!” Isla screamed, voice raw. “I can’t live in silence anymore!”
Her mother’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “If you can’t keep this secret, you’ll leave us no choice.”
Isla’s heart shattered, the weight of those words crushing her. “You mean… you’ll kick me out?”
Her father nodded grimly. “Sometimes tough love is necessary.” Isla’s knees buckled, tears blurring her vision as the fight tore through the fragile bond they once had.
Her mother’s eyes were cold, almost hard. “Isla, you don’t understand. We’re trying to protect you—from yourself and from the world.”
Isla’s voice trembled, raw with pain. “Protect me? By locking me away in silence? By pretending I’m something I’m not?”
Her father stepped closer, voice thick with frustration. “You don’t see the bigger picture. If this gets out, it ruins everything—our reputation, your future.”
“Reputation?” Isla laughed bitterly. “What about my future? What about me?”
Her mother’s hands clenched at her sides. “You don’t get to choose what stays secret. We do.”
Isla shook her head, voice breaking. “I’m not a child.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe not, but you’re not ready to handle this. Not like this.”
Tears spilled over, and Isla wiped them furiously with the back of her hand. “You don’t know what it’s like. To feel like you’re drowning, and no one can see it. To want to scream but have no voice.”
Her mother’s face softened—just a fraction—before hardening again. “You think you’re the only one suffering? We are too. We carry this with you.”
Isla’s breath caught. “Then why can’t you see me? Really see me?”
Her father’s voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “Because if we let you be seen like that, everything falls apart.”
“No,” Isla whispered. “I’m tired of falling apart.”
Her mother’s voice shook with anger and something else—fear maybe. “Then you leave. If you can’t keep this secret, if you can’t be who we want you to be.”
Isla’s legs gave way and she sank to the floor, chest heaving. “You want me gone?”
Her father’s eyes held no warmth. “We want you to get help. But from people who know what they’re doing. Not out there, broadcasting this to the world.”
Isla looked up at them, tears blurring their faces into shadows. “I’m not ‘broadcasting.’ I’m living.”
Her mother turned away, shoulders shaking as silent tears fell.
Isla’s breath hitched again, the panic rising inside her like a storm. “I’m not your secret anymore.”
Her father’s voice was low and final. “Then maybe we have no choice.”
Isla’s bedroom was dim, the only light coming from the small lamp on her desk, casting long shadows on the walls plastered with photos and posters—snapshots of happier times she barely remembered.
She sat on the edge of her bed, fingers trembling as she folded clothes with mechanical precision. Each shirt, each pair of jeans, was folded and stacked in a small suitcase she had dragged out from the closet earlier.
Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, hot and relentless, but she didn’t wipe them away. She let them fall, carving silent paths through the exhaustion and the ache.
Her chest tightened with each breath, a familiar weight she had tried to ignore for years—the invisible battle raging inside her mind, the relentless pull of despair. Tonight, it was louder than ever.
She paused, clutching a worn hoodie to her chest, breathing in the scent of home—a scent she was trying to leave behind.
The memories flooded in—her mother’s sharp words, her father’s cold eyes, the fight that had torn everything apart just hours ago. The secret she was forced to carry, the mask she had worn for so long, finally shattered.
Her hands shook as she zipped up the suitcase, the finality of it sinking in. She was leaving. Not because she wanted to, but because she had no choice.
Isla curled into herself on the bed, the suitcase at her side, and let the tears come freely now—uncaring, unguarded. The silence of the room wrapped around her, a fragile comfort amid the storm.
Next chapter coming soon.