When Anna noticed her 15-year-old daughter disappearing into the bathroom every afternoon, locking the door and emerging with red eyes, she feared the worst. But when the truth finally came to light, it shattered her heart in ways she never expected. What was Lily hiding behind that locked door?
I became a single mother when Lily was just four months old.
My husband walked out one morning, leaving nothing but a note on the kitchen counter that read, “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
The truth was, he couldn’t handle the responsibility of being a father.
The sleepless nights, the constant crying, and the overwhelming weight of another life depending on him were too much for him. He just packed his bags and disappeared from our lives, leaving me alone with a tiny baby and a mountain of bills I had no idea how to pay.
Those early years were the hardest of my life.
I worked double shifts at the diner, sometimes pulling 16-hour days just to keep the lights on and formula in the cupboard. My mother was my lifeline during those years. She looked after Lily while I was at work, rocking her to sleep when she cried and feeding her when I couldn’t be there.
I would come home exhausted, my feet aching, and my uniform smelling like grease and coffee, but the moment I saw Lily’s little face, everything else faded away.
Honestly, things were difficult for us. There were nights when I cried myself to sleep, wondering if I was doing enough and if I was being a good enough mother.
There were days when I had to choose between paying the electric bill and buying Lily new shoes because she’d outgrown her old ones. With strength and patience, we have come a long way.
We survived, and eventually, we even started to thrive.
Now Lily is 15, and she’s my entire world. Everything I do, every shift I work, and every sacrifice I make are all for her. I still work long hours at the diner, serving coffee and eggs to tired truckers and families on road trips, but it’s worth it because I’m building a future for my daughter.
I want her to have opportunities I never had.
I want her to attend college, travel, and become whoever she wants to be. But recently, something changed.
Lily started acting withdrawn, and it scared me more than I wanted to admit. It started about two months ago.
She used to come home from school chatty and full of energy, telling me about her classes and her friends.
But suddenly, she became quiet. She would walk through the front door, drop her backpack in the hallway, and head straight to her room without saying a word. When I asked her about her day, she would shrug and mumble, “It was fine.”
Then the bathroom thing started.
Every single day after school, Lily would disappear into the bathroom for nearly an hour.
She would lock the door, and no matter how many times I knocked, she wouldn’t answer. I would stand outside, pressing my ear against the wood, hearing the faint sound of running water and movement inside.
“Lily, honey, are you okay in there?” I would call out, trying to keep my voice calm even though my heart was racing. Silence.
“Lily, please answer me.
You’re scaring me.”
More silence, or sometimes just a muffled, “I’m fine, Mom. Just leave me alone.”
When she finally emerged, her eyes were always red and puffy, like she’d been crying for a while. Her face would be flushed, and she would avoid making eye contact with me as she rushed past and locked herself in her bedroom.
I tried everything to get her to talk to me.
I made her favorite meals, hoping she would open up over dinner. I suggested we watch movies together, just like we used to when she was younger.
I even took a day off work, something I rarely do, just to spend time with her. But nothing worked.
The more I pushed, the more she pulled away.
Naturally, my mind went to dark places. Was she hurting herself? Or was she being bullied at school?
Or God forbid, was she pregnant?
What if that’s why she was hiding in the bathroom every day, taking tests or dealing with morning sickness?
As a result, the tension in our house grew unbearable. Every day felt like walking on eggshells, waiting for something terrible to happen.
I barely slept anymore, lying awake at night and wondering what was going on with my daughter and why she wouldn’t let me help her. Then one day, I finally learned what was going on.
It was a regular Thursday afternoon.
The diner had been unusually slow, and my manager told me I could leave early if I wanted to. I didn’t need to be told twice. I grabbed my purse, clocked out, and headed home, thinking maybe I could surprise Lily and we could spend some time together.
But when I walked through the front door, the house was eerily quiet.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page to discover the rest 🔎👇
