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Jessenia was not a girl in the way the word was meant to be. She was a mountain, a fortress, a force of nature. Her magic was raw, brutal, and undeniable. She could uproot ancient oaks with a flick of her wrist, and her laughter was the rumble of distant thunder. She was the eldest, the strongest, and, according to her grandmother, their family's hope.

But beneath the imposing exterior, a storm raged. It was a flurry of doubt, fear, and a longing for something more than strength. Jessenia was a prisoner of her own power, trapped in a gilded cage of expectation. Her grandmother, Celia, a matriarch with eyes as sharp as winter's frost, had instilled in Jessenia a sense of duty that was as heavy as the world itself.

"You are the pillar of this family, Jessenia," Celia would often say, her voice a low, resonant hum. "Your strength is our shield. You must be as unyielding as stone, as steadfast as the earth."

Jessenia would nod, her heart heavy. She loved and revered her grandmother, but the weight of her words was crushing. She was expected to be perfect, never falter, and always be the immovable object against the world's shifting sands. There was no room for weakness, doubt, or the simple joy of being.

"I'm the strong one, I'm not nervous

I'm as tough as the crust of the Earth is

I move mountains, I move churches

And I glow, 'cause I know what my worth is

I don't ask how hard the work is

Got a rough, indestructible surface

Diamonds and platinum, I find 'em, I flatten 'em

I take what I'm handed, I break what's demanded, but

Under the surface

I feel berserk as a tightrope walker in a three-ring circus

Under the surface

Was Hercules ever like, "Yo, I don't wanna fight Cerberus?"

Under the surface

I'm pretty surе I'm worthless if I can't be of servicе."

Her sisters, with their gentler magic - healing, illusion, and weather manipulation - were often praised for their finesse. But Jessenia was the brute, the warrior. Her magic was raw, unrefined, and terrifying in its potency. It was a gift, yes, but it was also a curse.

Hidden deep within Jessenia was a secret world where unicorns danced on rainbows and kittens purred in sunlit meadows. She loved soft and gentle things that were utterly incompatible with her image. It was a contradiction gnawing at her, a forbidden desire that threatened to undermine the very foundation of her identity.

One evening, as the moon cast its silvery glow over the ancient oak that stood sentinel over their home, Jessenia crept out into the garden. She carried a small, worn book. Its pages were filled with sketches of mythical creatures. She had drawn them in secret, a quiet rebellion against the world of stone and steel that was expected of her.

As she flipped through the pages, a tear escaped her eye. She traced the delicate lines of a unicorn, its horn shimmering in the moonlight. It was a creature of pure magic, of gentleness and hope. And yet, as she looked at her own hands, rough and calloused from years of hard labor, she felt a pang of despair.

"You are strong, Jessenia," a voice whispered in the night. It was Celia, standing in the shadows.

Jessenia jumped, startled. "Grandma, you scared me."

Celia stepped into the moonlight, her face etched with concern. "I see the weight of the world on your shoulders, my child. But remember, even the strongest tree needs roots to ground it."

Jessenia looked at her grandmother, confusion etched on her face.

"Your magic is a gift, a powerful one. But it is not all of you. You are a woman, a daughter, a sister. You have a heart, Jessenia. And it is important to nurture it."

Jessenia felt a surge of hope. Perhaps there was room for her to be strong and gentle, a warrior and a dreamer.

"A flaw or a crack, the straw in the stack

That breaks the camel's back

What breaks the camel's back."

However, hope is a fragile thing. It can be shattered as effortlessly as glass. A crisis struck their village. A monstrous creature, a shadow born of nightmares, had emerged from the depths of the earth. It was a being of pure destruction, its roar like thunder, its eyes burning with an unholy fire. The village was in peril, and the villagers looked to the magic family for salvation.

Celia, with a heavy heart, turned to Jessenia, "This is your moment, my child. Show them the strength that runs in your veins."

Jessenia nodded, her heart pounding. This was her test, her ultimate trial. She stepped forward, her body trembling but her resolve unwavering. She faced the monster, a tiny figure against the colossal beast. But at that moment, she was not a girl afraid. She was Jessenia, the protector, the hope of her people.

The battle was a maelstrom of earth and magic. Jessenia fought with a ferocity that was both terrifying and awe-inspiring. She moved mountains, literally, to crush the monster beneath them. She was a force of nature unleashed, a whirlwind of destruction.

But as the monster weakened, so did Jessenia. The strain was immense, pushing her to the limits of her endurance. And then, as the final blow was about to be delivered, something unexpected happened. Her magic faltered. Her strength, the foundation of her world, was crumbling. The monster, sensing its opportunity, surged forward.

"It's pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa

Pressure that'll tip, tip, tip 'til you just go pop, whoa-oh-oh

Give it to your sister, your sister's older

Give her all the heavy things we can't shoulder

Who am I if I can't run with the ball?

If I fall to

Pressure like a grip, grip, grip, and it won't let go, whoa

Pressure like a tick, tick, tick 'til it's ready to blow, whoa-oh-oh

Give it to your sister, your sister's stronger

See if she can hang on a little longer

Who am I if I can't carry it all?

If I falter."

In a desperate attempt to save herself, Jessenia drew upon a reserve of magic she did not know she possessed. It was a gamble, a desperate gamble. With a final, catastrophic burst of power, she defeated the monster. But she must paid a terrible cost.

When the dust settled, Jessenia was gone. She vanished without a trace.

The village mourned the loss of their protector and hope. Celia, in particular, was inconsolable. She had lost not just a granddaughter but the symbol of their family's strength.

As for Jessenia, she was lost in a void, a place without form or substance. She was a ghost, a shadow of the woman she once was. And in the emptiness of her existence, she found a chilling truth: She had defined herself solely by her strength. When that strength was gone, so was she.

She was a mountain that had crumbled, a fortress that had fallen. And in the ruins of her being, she found only despair.

There was no hope, no redemption, only the echo of a question that would haunt her for eternity: Who am I if I am not strong enough?

"Under the surface

I hide my nerves and it worsens, I worry somethin' is gonna hurt us

Under the surface

The ship doesn't swerve, has it heard how big the iceberg is?

Under the surface

I think about my purpose, can I somehow preserve this?

Line up the dominoes, a light wind blows

You try to stop it tumbling, but on and on it goes."

After Jessenia's disappearance, her family was messed up. Everyone was desperately looking for her. They worried so much that they even forgot about themselves. And the one worrying about Jessenia the most was Steffanie, the youngest of the magic-wielding siblings. She was a whirlwind of sunshine and hope. Her magic was the gentle art of illusion, which was used to bring joy and wonder to their world. Unlike Jessenia, Steffanie was small, delicate, and possessed a spirit as free as the wind. Despite their differences, she loved and cared for Jessenia the most. Steffanie had always looked up to her eldest sister, admiring her strength and courage. But now, she saw a shadow where there had been a beacon.

Days turned into weeks after Jessenia's disappearance, and Steffanie could not bear to see their grandmother's despair. With a heart filled with determination, she started to search for her sister. The journey was dangerous, fraught with dangers that would have overwhelmed most. Despite her petite stature, Steffanie persisted with a fierce determination fueled by her vivid illusions and unwavering courage.

Finally, she found Jessenia in a desolate realm devoid of color and hope. Jessenia was a mere husk of her former self, her eyes hollow and her spirit broken.

"Jessenia," Steffanie whispered, her voice trembling.

Jessenia turned around slowly, her eyes filled with indifference, and asked, "Steffanie?"

Steffanie's voice trembled with hope as she uttered, "It's me. I have come to bring you home."

Jessenia looked away, her voice barely a whisper, "There's no home for me, Steffanie. I'm broken."

Steffanie knelt beside her sister, taking her hand, "You're not broken, Jessa. You're just lost. And I'm here to find you."

Jessenia pulled her hand away, "Don't bother, Steffanie. You can't save me."

Steffanie was undeterred. She began to weave an illusion, a vision of their childhood, a time when laughter and joy filled their days. Jessenia watched, her expression unchanged.

"Remember this, Jessa?" Steffanie asked, pointing to an image of them as young girls building a fort of blankets.

Jessenia's eyes slightly softened when she replied, "I remember."

"You were the strongest, the bravest," Steffanie continued. "But you were also kind, funny, and full of life."

Jessenia looked away, a flicker of pain in her eyes, "That was then, Steffanie. This is now."

Steffanie held Jessenia's face in her hands, "You are always more than just strong, Jessa. You are a great sister, a lovely daughter, and a good friend. You are the heart of our family."

Jessenia's eyes filled with tears when she said, "I let them down, Steffanie. I could not protect them."

"You saved us all, Jessa," Steffanie insisted. "You defeated the monster. You're a hero."

Jessenia shook her head. "A broken hero."

Steffanie sighed. She knew she could not force her sister to heal. But she could be there for her, no matter what.

"I'm not going anywhere, Jessa," she promised. "I'll stay with you until you're ready to come home."

Jessenia looked at her sister, her eyes filled with gratitude and despair. "I do not deserve you, Steffanie."

"Everyone deserves love, Jessa," Steffanie replied softly. "And I love you."

Steffanie had stayed by her sister's side for weeks. She told stories, sang songs, and sat in companionable silence. Slowly, a flicker of hope began to rekindle in Jessenia's heart.

But then, a message arrived from their grandmother. It was a plea, a desperate cry for help. The village was attacked again, and the threat was even worse.

Jessenia's heart sank. She was no longer the strong woman she once was. How could she possibly protect anyone?

Steffanie saw the fear in her sister's eyes. "We do not have to do this alone, Jessa," she said, her voice filled with determination. "We're stronger together."

Jessenia looked at her sister, hope and doubt warring within her. She knew she had to face her fears to reclaim her life for herself and her family.

With a heavy heart, Jessenia nodded. Together, they would return home, face the monster, and hopefully find a way to heal all the cracks.

The return journey was fraught with peril, but with Steffanie's illusions and Jessenia's newfound resolve, they managed to navigate the treacherous path. When they returned, the village was on the brink of chaos. The monstrous creature was even more terrifying this time. It was at the gates, continuously casting a shadow of dread everywhere. It had become a being of pure malice, its form a grotesque amalgamation of shadow and stone. The villagers, their courage depleted, were huddled together, their eyes filled with terror. From the villagers, they knew that their family felt like the world's burden had doubled in the absence of Jessenia. The once vibrant village was now shrouded in a paleness of despair. Their grandmother, Celia, was a mere shadow of her former self, her eyes hollowed by grief and worry. The other sisters, each with their unique magic, were struggling to fill the void left by Jessenia.

Celia, their grandmother, was a frail shadow of her former self. Her eyes held a mixture of guilt and desperation. She rushed towards Jessenia, her voice barely audible as she was exhausted, "My child, you have returned."

Jessenia looked at her grandmother, the years of resentment and pain surfacing, "You broke me, Grandma. You turned me into a weapon, not a person."

Celia's face crumpled, "I am so sorry, Jessenia. I was blinded by fear, by the need to protect our family. I never meant to hurt you."

Jessenia remained silent, her heart heavy. She felt a rush of all-too-familiar fear coursing through her veins. Jessenia had become frail, a mere echo of the formidable presence once embodied. However, when gazing upon the terror-stricken countenances and her terrified family, a flicker of her old self ignited, a spark of the protector she once was. Jessenia determined to make an attempt because there were no other choices. With a deep breath, she stepped forward, her hand finding Steffanie's.

"We need to fight," she said, her voice firm. "Together."

Steffanie nodded, her hand embracing Jessenia's.

Together, they faced the monster. It was a battle unlike any they had fought before. Jessenia, with newfound strength, fought with a ferocity born of despair and determination. Meanwhile, Steffanie created a diversion with her illusions, blinding the creature with a dazzling array of colors. Jessenia, drawing upon the last remnants of her strength, channeled her magic into a powerful blast. It was a desperate gamble, a final stand.

The battle was a maelstrom of magic and fury. It was long and arduous, filled with moments of despair and triumph. The ground trembled, and the sky was ablaze with colors. In the end, it was a combined effort. Steffanie's illusions weaken the monster, creating an opening for Jessenia's final blow. With a sudden rush of energy, she unleashed a powerful strike, forcing the menacing creature to retreat to the dark depths from where it had emerged.

Exhausted, they collapsed to the ground. The village erupted in cheers because their savior had returned. But Jessenia felt no triumph. She was empty, a shell of the woman she once was.

Celia, whose eyes filled with tears, approached Jessenia. Her voice was soft, a stark contrast to her usual commanding tone. "My child," she began, trembling, "I have failed you. I pushed you too hard and demanded too much. I saw only the strength in you, forgetting the woman beneath."

Jessenia looked at her grandmother, her heart softening. For the first time, she saw not the stern matriarch but a woman broken by guilt.

Celia continued, "You are not defined by your strength, Jessenia. You are a daughter, a sister, a woman with a heart that knows joy and sorrow. You are enough, just as you are."

Jessenia's eyes filled with tears. It was a simple truth, yet it held a profound power. At that moment, she began to heal.

The road to recovery would be long, and the scars of the past would never fade. But with Steffanie by her side and the understanding of her grandmother, Jessenia began to rebuild her life. She would never be the same. She would be bolder, wiser, and more complete.

When the first rays of dawn touched the village, tossing away the shadows of the night, Jessenia stood tall, her shoulders no longer burdened by the weight of expectation. She was now a survivor, a warrior, and, most importantly, herself.

"But wait, if I could shake the crushing weight of expectations

Would that free some room up for joy

Or relaxation, or simple pleasure?

Instead, we measure this growing pressure

Keeps growing, keep going, 'cause all we know is

Pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa

Pressure that'll tip, tip, tip 'til you just go pop, whoa-oh-oh

Give it to your sister, it doesn't hurt and

See if she can handle every family burden

Watch as she buckles and bends but never breaks

No mistakes, just

Pressure like a grip, grip, grip, and it won't let go, whoa

Pressure like a tick, tick, tick 'til it's ready to blow, whoa-oh-oh

Give it to your sister and never wonder

If the same pressure would've pulled you under

Who am I if I don't have what it takes?

No cracks, no breaks

No mistakes, no pressure!"