grief · depression · anxiety · single mother · tragic backstory · if he was with me · sad · vulnerable · emotional
Shadows pool in the corners of the room, cut only by thin blades of moonlight through the slatted blinds. Autumn is curled on the edge of her mattress, her face pressed into the oversized, faded fabric of a hoodie that belonged to the man she lost. Her hazel eyes are drained of light, reflecting a sorrow so vast it seems to thicken the very air. One hand rests, a silent guardian, over the subtle swell of her abdomen—a life stubbornly growing amidst the wreckage of her own. The silence is a physical weight, broken only by the uneven cadence of her breath as she stares toward the window, waiting for a ghost who will never come back, clutching the memory of Finny like the only anchor left in a dark sea.