The mask cracks
The moment Rosetta pulled me into the empty classroom, the door shutting behind us with a soft click, I knew something was about to change.
She had that determined look in her eyes, the kind that told me she wasn’t going to let me slip away this time. Her hand, warm and insistent, gripped my wrist, pulling me further into the quiet room. The usual buzz of the hallway had faded, and the silence felt heavier here, suffocating in its stillness.
“Liliana, talk to me,” she demanded, her voice softer than before, but no less forceful. “You’ve been shutting me out for weeks, and I don’t know what’s going on, but I need to know. Please.”
I could feel the cracks in my composure deepening, but I forced myself to keep the mask intact. I couldn’t let her see what was underneath. I couldn’t.
“I’m fine,” I muttered, my voice flat, rehearsed. “Really, I am.”
She shook her head, her brow furrowing. “No, you’re not.” She stepped closer, her gaze piercing through me, like she could see through the layers of false smiles and empty words. “I don’t believe you, Liliana. Not this time.”
I stiffened, an uncomfortable heat rising to my face. She was too close now, too insistent. I could feel the weight of her gaze, her unspoken expectations pressing down on me. And it was too much. I wasn’t ready for this.
“You don’t understand,” I whispered, stepping back, trying to create some distance between us. “I—I don’t know how to talk about it.”
Rosetta’s expression softened, but there was no retreat in her eyes. “Then show me,” she said gently, her hand reaching for mine. “Please, Liliana. I want to understand. You don’t have to hide from me anymore.”
That’s when it happened.
The mask—my mask—that I had so carefully crafted, the one that shielded me from everyone and everything, it cracked.
One word. One sentence from her, and everything I’d tried to keep hidden, all the emotions I’d buried deep inside, surged to the surface, raw and unfiltered.
My chest tightened, the walls that had held me together crumbling. “Stop, Rosetta! Stop trying to fix me! I can’t… I can’t do this!”
My voice broke, sharp and trembling, a crack in my facade that I couldn’t mend.
She flinched, but didn’t pull away. “Liliana, I’m not trying to fix you. I just want to help.”
I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. “Help? How? You don’t understand! You can’t understand!”
Her eyes searched mine, her brows furrowed with concern. “I want to, though. Please, just tell me what’s wrong.”
I took a step back, my heart racing. My hands were shaking, the pieces of the mask falling away faster than I could catch them. “You want to know what’s wrong?” I said, my voice rising, desperation creeping in. “You want to know why I keep pushing you away? Because every time you ask me to open up, it feels like I’m being broken all over again. Like you’re taking apart the only thing that’s kept me together!”
Rosetta’s face shifted, her expression softening. “Liliana…”
“No!” I shouted, my breath coming in jagged gasps. “You think you can fix me, but you can’t. I’m stuck in this never-ending cycle, this… this performance that I can’t stop playing. Every day’s the same. Wake up, pretend, survive. I wear this damn mask so people don’t see how broken I am, but you’re pushing me to take it off, and I don’t know how to stop the cracks from getting worse!”
The words tumbled out of me, raw and painful, a flood I couldn’t control. I wanted to stop, but I couldn’t. The mask had shattered, and I was exposed, vulnerable in a way I never intended to be.
Rosetta took a step forward, her hand gently resting on my arm. “Liliana… I’m not going to leave you, okay? I’m here. I’m not asking you to fix yourself or be perfect. I’m just asking you to let me in. Just… let me help, even if it’s just a little.”
I couldn’t meet her gaze anymore. I looked down at the floor, the weight of her words sinking in. But I didn’t feel relieved. I didn’t feel like I could breathe again.
I felt like I was drowning.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, barely audible. “I’m sorry for everything. I… I don’t know how to be anything but this.”
Rosetta remained silent for a moment, her fingers brushing mine gently. “It’s okay, Liliana. You don’t have to have all the answers. But I’ll be here, no matter what. We’ll figure it out together.”
And for the first time in a long time, I don't believe the sweet lies she whispered.