**Staring into the Void**
Tom and Emily married when they were just nineteen. They couldnt live or breathe without each otherit was a wild, reckless kind of love. Their parents, eager to keep things proper, hurriedly made it official. Best to avoid any scandal…
The wedding was grand, unforgettable. All the usual trimmings were there: ribbons on the car bonnet, mountains of flowers, fireworks, a banquet hall, the cries of *”Kiss the bride!”* Emilys parents couldnt contributemoney was tight, barely enough for meals and, well, the drink. The grooms mother, Alexandra, covered all the costs. Realising her name was a mouthful, she asked everyone to call her Sandra.
Sandra had warned Tom against Emily, what with her parents drinking. But what young man listens? Tom swore Emily was differenttheir love would outweigh any bad blood. Sandra sighed, *”Son, the apple never falls far from the tree. Dont say I didnt warn you.”*
For a while, life smiled on them. Tom and Emily stood on the doorstep of happiness, certain the world was theirs. Sandra and her husband gifted them a flat*”Live and be happy, my dears!”*
Then, cracks appeared.
Five years in, Emily began vanishing for hours, returning reeking of drink. When pressed, she turned cold. *”I never loved you,”* she spat. *”It was just a silly crush. Ive found my real match now.”* Never mind that he was married with three daughters. Tom was gutted. Betrayed.
Emily ran off with her lover to some backwater village, abandoning their two girls, Lily and Rose. Sandra, sharp as a tack, took them in. She doted on them, spoiling them rotten.
Tom, lost and broken, joined a religious sect on a friends advice. Soon, he was remarriedto a widow with two sons. His new wife, Clara, kept him busy with her endless demands. *”Tom, Lily and Rose have a mother. Its her job to care for them. Now take Oliver to school. Feed little James.”*
He obeyed. He still loved Emily, but the door was closed.
Seven years later, Emily turned up on Sandras doorstep, a four-year-old girl in tow. *”Mollys mine,”* she said. *”Can we stay?”*
Sandra eyed her. *”Lifes roughed you up, hasnt it? Did he throw you out?”*
*”No, I left. He hits me. Drinks nonstop.”*
*”You chose him. Why not go to your own parents?”*
*”I missed my girls. Let me see them.”*
Sandra scoffed. *”Now you remember them?”*
But then the doorbell rang. Lily and Rose, now teenagers, stared at their mother with wary eyes. No love, only resentment.
Of course, Sandra let them stay. She wasnt heartless.
A month later, Emily vanished againback to her brute. Molly stayed behind. Now Sandra had three girls to raise. The house was warm, full of love.
Years flew. Sandra passed, then her husband.
Lily married but remained childless. Rose stayed single, content in solitude. Molly, at seventeen, had a baby by some unknown man and ran off to her mothers village.
Youth left without a word. Old age arrived unannounced.
Emily ended up alone when her lovers daughters took him back to the citysick, then crippled. They blamed her. *”Mind your own business,”* they sneered. The village branded her a shameless drunk.
Tom escaped Clara and the sect, a shell of himself. He lived in his mothers old flat, scraping by, sleeping cold. He got three cats. Company against the silence.
Happiness had knocked once. They hadnt answered.
