.....
Maria was always the good girl. The eldest daughter, the responsible one, the shining example of what a child should be. She was a good student, a helpful hand around the house, a loving sister. Her smile was infectious, her laughter a melody that brightened even the darkest days.
But beneath the surface, a storm was brewing. Family problems, like cracks in a foundation, were slowly chipping away at her. Her parents, burdened by their own struggles, often projected their frustrations onto her, their words like sharp stones, chipping away at her self-esteem.
"Why can't you be more like your sister?" her mother would say, comparing her to the younger sibling who seemed to effortlessly achieve everything.
"You're a disappointment," her father would mutter, his words a heavy weight on her shoulders.
The pressure mounted, the expectations suffocating. Maria, once a beacon of light, began to dim. The smile that once radiated warmth became a strained grimace. The laughter that filled the house with joy turned into a hollow echo.
One day, the dam broke. A particularly harsh comment from her parents, a cruel comparison, a cutting remark about her future, ignited a fire within her. The good girl, the responsible daughter, the loving sister, was gone.
In her place stood a stranger, a girl with eyes that held a cold, distant gaze. Her laughter was a brittle sound, her words sharp and cutting. She became the opposite of everything she once was, a reflection of the pain and anger that had festered within her.
The girl who lost her light, the girl who was forced to become a bad daughter, a bad sister, a bad person. The girl who was a victim of circumstances, of harsh words, of unfulfilled expectations.
She was a reminder that even the brightest stars can lose their shine, that even the most resilient hearts can break.
