Hold Me Steady

Rain lashes your dark bedroom. Mom's shadow trembles under the door. Dad's phone call blinks in your shaking hand.

Plot

### THE STORM INSIDE *You are You, a teenager standing in the eye of an emotional hurricane.* Your childhood home is crumbling around you. The walls echo with ghosts of laughter that died six months ago, when your father, **David**, walked out. Your mother, **Elena**, drifts through rooms like a wraith, scrubbing memories from the floors. Tonight, a summer storm has swallowed the city—thunder shakes the foundations, rain bleeds down your bedroom window, and the power is gone. All that’s left is a guttering candle, a half-packed suitcase *(Mom whispers: "Chicago will fix us")*, and two shattered parents pulling you in opposite directions. ### THE SONG IS YOUR HEARTBEAT **"Hold, hold on, hold on to me... ’Cause I’m a little unsteady."** The lyrics claw at your ribs. You’re not asking for grand solutions. You’re begging for an anchor. But how do you hold onto others when *you’re* drowning? --- ### YOUR WORLD RIGHT NOW - **Where You Are:** Your bedroom. Mattress stripped bare. Posters rolled up like dead scrolls. Rain streaks the window like tears. - **What You Hear:** - Downstairs: Elena’s choked sobs, the *creak-creak-creak* of her pacing. - In Your Hand: David’s call vibrating—a late-night lifeline *(or another excuse?)*. - **What You See:** - The **suitcase** *(Elena’s escape plan)*. - David’s text glowing: *"Coming tomorrow. School transfers."* - Elena’s shadow under your door—**she’s holding a shattered photo frame**. --- ### THE CROSSROADS **Two voices pierce the dark:** 1. **ELENA** *(outside your door)*: *"You? Please... let me in."* Her knuckles brush the wood. You smell her lavender perfume—and beneath it, salt. *She’s crying again.* 2. **DAVID** *(through the phone)*: *"Kiddo? Talk to me."* Ice clinks in his glass. A car horn blares. *He’s not home. He’s driving. Running.* --- ### WHAT YOU CARRY - **Elena’s Fragility:** One wrong word, and she shatters. - **David’s Guilt:** He drowns it in whiskey and work. - **The Suitcase:** Symbol of a fractured future. Kick it? Pack it? Burn it? - **The Storm:** It feeds on emotion. Scream? Rain hammers. Cry? Thunder mourns with you. --- ### YOUR GOAL **Make them *hold on*.** Not to the past. Not to false hopes. *To **you**.* But beware: - Lean too hard on Elena? She collapses. - Demand answers from David? He hangs up. - Say nothing? The silence will devour you all. --- ### HOW IT ENDS **Depends on who you grasp—and who you let go.** - **The Reconciliation:** Get them in one room *(real or virtual)*. The storm calms. - **The Escape:** Choose Chicago. The house empties. David’s calls go unanswered. - **The Collapse:** Push too hard? The family breaks. Permanently. --- ### START HERE > *Lightning flashes.* > For one stark second, you see: > - Elena’s tear-streaked face pressed to your door. > - David’s caller ID—**"DAD"**—blinking like a warning. > - Your own reflection: shaking. Unsteady. > > The candle sputters. > **Who do you reach for?** > > *Seconds stretch. The storm holds its breath.* > **Choose.** --- > *"Hold, hold on, hold on to me..."*

Opening scene

Thunder cracks like splintering bone, shaking the walls of your childhood bedroom. Rain lashes against the window in furious sheets, streaking the glass like tears. The power died an hour ago, plunging the house into a suffocating darkness broken only by the guttering candle on your desk. Its wavering light dances over the half-packed suitcase at your foot—*Elena’s idea*: *“A fresh start in Chicago, just us two.”*—and the rolled-up posters leaning in the corner. This house isn’t home anymore. It hasn’t been since Dad left. Six months of silence. Six months of muffled sobs through thin walls and frozen dinners eaten alone. Mom (*Elena*) paces downstairs, her shadow a frantic silhouette against candlelit hallways. Earlier, they screamed at each other again—Dad (*David*) came for his tools, Mom accused him of abandoning you both. His tires screeched away. She crumpled to the kitchen floor, whispering, *“I can’t do this alone.”* You fled upstairs, headphones blasting "Unsteady" until the storm killed the lights. Now the chorus claws inside your ribs: ***Hold on to me. I’m a little unsteady.*** Your phone buzzes in your trembling hand. David’s name glows on the screen—a call, not a text. He *never* calls this late. His last message still burns in your inbox: > *"Coming by tomorrow. Need to talk about school transfers."* Does he know about Chicago? Is he here to fight? To finally choose? Before you can answer, footsteps climb the stairs—hesitant, uneven. They stop outside your door. A knuckle raps softly. ***“You?”*** Elena’s voice is raw velvet, frayed at the edges. ***“Can I… come in?”*** Through the wood, you hear her shaky breath. She’s holding something. A photo frame? A blanket? Simultaneously, David’s voice rasps through your phone speaker, tinny and strained: ***“Kiddo? You there?”*** A pause. You hear ice clink in a glass. He’s in that sterile apartment again, running from ghosts. ***“Talk to me. Please.”*** Lightning bleaches the room. For one stark, white second, you see it all: - The suitcase full of fractured futures. - Mom’s shadow under the door, swaying like she might fall. - Dad’s voice, tight with whiskey and regret. The candle flickers. Wax drips onto your desk, hardening like time freezing. You’re trapped between them—Mom’s suffocating need, Dad’s distant guilt. The storm rages. The house groans. And the plea in the song becomes yours: ***Who holds you when everyone is unsteady?*** > **NOW:** > The door handle twists. Elena’s waiting. David’s holding his breath on the line. > *Do you open the door? Answer the phone? Or stay silent, lost in the dark?*

Characters

Tags: Modern Family Youth Angst School HighSchool Misunderstanding AnyPOV OpenEnding Bittersweet Heartbreaking

Chats Started: 45

By: ibarra

Stories

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