Unbroken

POV: Yuria

6:15 a.m. Lying in bed, buried in my sheets, I open my eyes. Another school day.

I can feel it — this is where everything starts.

And honestly? I'm not sure I want it to.

I'd love to say this is a pretty story. Something soft, you know? Love, smiles, a little drama but nothing too heavy. But no. That's not what this is.

This is the kind that hurts. The kind that leaves marks. And I'm right in the middle of it.

I'm Yuria. Twenty. I try to act like everything's fine, but we all know the people who smile the hardest are usually the most exhausted. Me, I watch. I catch everything. And when I don't say anything, it's not because I don't know. It's just that sometimes, words don't change a thing.

Then there's Alliah. My cousin. Known her forever, still don't always get her. She's weird, a little lost sometimes, sweet when she wants to be, hurt more often than she shows. Alliah's the type to tell you she's fine while she's drowning inside.

And Inès, her best friend. The opposite. A light, even when everything goes dark.

There's Carista too. My half-sister. Talks too loud, laughs too loud, crashes through everything in her path. Including me. Especially me. But I think that's her safe place. And mine too, even if I never say it.

That's our crew, I guess. Damaged girls still standing because we found each other. Not because we're strong. Just because we're here.

And today, it's the first day back. New year. New faces. New silences to fill.

I'd love to say I'm excited. But that would just be another lie.

POV: Carista

I look up from my cereal bowl when I hear Yuria come in. She slams the door like it's the wind's fault.

Her eyes are red. Again. She always denies it, but I see right through her. She didn't sleep, or she cried all night. Maybe both. I don't say anything. I just pass her the milk.

She doesn't look at me. She grabs the carton, pours without a word, sits across from me like we're not even in the same house.

She's avoiding me. I hate it.

"You good?" I ask, just to break the silence.

"Yeah. You?"

I shrug. Nothing. It's always the same. Ever since what happened to her, talking to Yuria is like talking to a wall. And I'm just the echo.

It's unbearable, watching my little sister like this. I want her to be happier. I don't pretend to understand what she's feeling, but I want to pull her out of it.

Because it's eating me alive.

I look at my sister. Her skin still carries the marks of restless sleep. She's beautiful, even when she's pissed. Tragic beautiful, almost dramatic. Like a badly written romance novel.

"Dad pushed back his trip and mom already left for work," I say, hoping she'll talk to me in a lighter tone.

She clenches her jaw. She dips her spoon in the cereal, but she doesn't eat.

Silence.

"Carista, I see what you're doing, but please, I'm not in the mood today," she whispers.

And just like that, we finish breakfast in silence. Then we go wake up Sleeping Beauty — aka Alliah — so she can get ready for school too.

I say it ironically...

What a beautiful day this is.