The Fall of Madelyn Beckett

Chapter 1 — Coming Home

It wasn’t with much enthusiasm that Madelyn Beckett found herself driving into the very suburb she had sworn at eighteen, never to lay eyes on again.

But after a boring college degree, a string of soul-sucking jobs, and two misogynistic bosses who made her seriously consider arson, here she was.

Coming home.

To Madelyn, it felt like a slap in the face. All that effort: the late nights, the endless assignments, the constant pretend reduced to absolutely nothing. Ashes. Failure. A depressing little résumé of disappointment. And the cruelest irony of all? The strong, independent, and mature woman she thought herself to be was now moving back in with her mother.

So much for character development

Best to say it plainly: her hard work had amounted to absolute jack shit.

It wasn’t fair a phrase she’d muttered ofte enough to actually believe it. But even that was just a hollow consolation. A pitiful excuse meant to uphold her wounded pride.

Because let's face it, maybe, just maybe, for the first time in her very privileged life, Madelyn Beckett simply wasn’t good enough.

Of course, I doubt she’ll ever realize that.

And if she ever does… well, I, the all-knowing narrator, will be utterly flabbergasted. But anyway, enough about her failures. They are in the past, right?

Well, that’s exactly what Madelyn’s thought as she turned into Gluttonberg Driveway. Not much had changed since she left eight years ago. Everything practically looked the same from the outside.

She drove to the end of the street and eyed her childhood home: a classic two-story suburban house. In the garden she quickly eyed her … her … wait who is she?


That wasn’t her mother. That wasn’t anyone Madelyn recognized.

A woman, likely in her late twenties maybe even late thirties, lounged in a bikini that was both revealing and ill-fitting. The material clung tightly to her large, pale, and round belly. Her hair was long and black.

She was - ironically - drinking Diet Sprite through a bendy straw and scrolling on her phone, which looked brand new compared to the battered model Madelyn still used. The stranger’s bare, buttery and thick legs were mottled with bright pink streaks of sunburn, and was that a tattoo? In the vague shape of a cartoon raccoon, halfway up her thigh. Madelyn blinked, uncertain if she’d driven to the wrong house.

She double-checked the address briefly on her phone. 314 Gluttonberg, blue trim, rosebushes gone feral to the left. Yes, this was it. Her home. Maybe her mother was inside. Or maybe her mother had died, and the estate attorney had skipped that detail. It wouldn't be the first time family news had been released through an unreliable channel.

With that, she took a chance and walked towards the stranger lounging outside the house.

“Hello?” Madelyn said, pausing at the edge of the lawn. Her voice came out flat and uncertain.

The woman looked up, and immediately her eyes went wide.

“OH MY GOD, MADDY!” the woman suddenly screamed as she lurched to her feet, not a fluid movement, but a slow, heaving effort that brought her stomach into full display. Her phone tumbled into the grass.

Madelyn flinched and stammered, “Um, hi?”

“Maddy. MADDY. OH my god, I knew it” the woman half-skipped, half-stumbled across the yard, barefoot, arms outstretched. Up close, she smelled like coconut oil, warm skin, and a hint of cigarettes.

What Madelyn hadn’t realized was that this wasn’t a stranger … not exactly.

This was Kayla.

Her sister.

And you might be wondering: How the hell does someone not recognize their own flesh and blood?

Oh, don’t worry. That, my dear reader… is very explainable.

You see, Madelyn hasn’t seen Kayla in what? About five years. She hasn’t really been in contact with her youngest sister, who was about 14, when Madelyn moved away from home to study at a respected college.

Back then at seventeen years old Kayla was skinny, athletic, and an impressive track runner, well on her way to earning a scholarship.

But unfortunately for Kayla, her promising run on the track hit a dead end as she picked up a very serious knee injury about 4-years-ago, which also cost Kayla her scholarship.

This resulted in a lifestyle shift, featuring parties, occasional drug use, plenty of fast food, and a carefree, indulgent existence funded by their mother. In contrast to Madelyn, Kayla didn't go to college and instead kept chasing what she believes to be "happiness."

That had all resulted in Kayla’s body changing, shifting and growing. Her ass had practically doubled in circumference, maybe tripled. The rest of her, too. Thighs without a gap. Upper arms soft and dimpled as rising dough. Even her face, once sharp and angular as Madelyn’s own, had gone plush, with a padded jawline and the ghost of a double chin. And of course, that infamous belly was now the main event, bouncing and jiggling with Kayla’s very move. At just 22 years old, Kayla’s indulgent and unhealthy lifestyle had visibly aged her beyond her years, her youthful sharpness replaced by a softness that seemed to mock and take the vigor she once had.

So, sure, Madelyn could be forgiven for not recognizing the person in front of her.

Because in her memory, Kayla was still that seventeen-year-old whirlwind neon shorts, flying sneakers, and a ponytail snapping like a whip across her shoulders

“Maddy!” Kayla wrapped her in a dam hug. The collision stole Madelyn’s breath, but then she finally realized that it was her sister, Kayla.

“Hi… Kayla,” she awkwardly muttered.

Kayla released her and stepped back, grinning with a kind of unfiltered glee that made Madelyn instantly self-conscious.

“You look amazing!” Kayla said, then actually reached out and pinched the skinny part of Madelyn's bicep. “Oh my god, you really stayed a stick. I’m so jealous.”

“Uh. Thanks.” Madelyn tried not to stare at her sister’s stomach, which seemed to have its own gravitational pull. “You, uh… look good, too.”

Kayla beamed, her round cheeks pinks with sun or embarrassment “Seriously, I didn’t think you were coming till, like, a week,”

Madelyn’s jaw tightened. Of course, Mom would fudge the dates. She probably forgot them altogether, behind her usual cloud of white wine spritzes and Netflix marathons.


Madelyn forced a smile.” Yeah. Surprise”


Kayla laughed, then led the way.

“Mom’s inside!” she chirped over her shoulder, as though announcing a party guest and not a woman Madelyn had tried to emotionally detach from for the last five years.

Madelyn followed reluctantly, mentally preparing herself for whatever awaited her behind the front door.

The door creaked open and instantly Madelyn could feel that something was off, that something had changed since she left.

Not bad but gone were the faint aromas of lemon cleaner. Now it smelled like one of those cafés on the road that served nothing but unhealthy fried food.

Madelyn stepped inside.

And there, standing at the bottom of the staircase, was her mother.

But not her mother

The woman before her was bigger. Heavier. Her once-toned-body, tight and efficient, had gone soft in every direction. Her arms were thick and loose. Her belly hung forward in a heavy swell, pressing against the fabric of her T-shirt, stretching it taut. What used to be lean muscle was now padded with weight. She’d round hips, a broad backside, thighs that rubbed together with every step. Even her face had changed: fuller, softer, framed by hair that looked more like neglect than style.

Her hair, once sleek, styled and pinned in disciplined buns, now hung in a disheveled ponytail. She was also holding a mixing bowl filled with cheese puffs.

Madelyn was simply speechless, and she didn’t know what to say or what to exactly do in the situation.

“Madelyn!” her mom gasped, eyes wide. “Oh my god, baby!”

Her mother embraced her. She smelled like cheap wine and powdered cheese.

“You look so skinny! Are you eating enough?” her mother asked as she pulled back, inspecting her like a piece of fruit at the grocery store.

Madelyn blinked. “Uh. I … yeah. I eat.”

“You don’t look like it. My god. You need to get some meat on those bones. Shannon! Madelyn is here!”

Shannon?

Madelyn barely had any time to process before a shadow emerged from the kitchen, then a tall, wide figure waddled into view, clutching a mug of what looked suspiciously like melted ice cream with a straw in it.

Shannon.

Her older sister. The once-sharp-jawed, power-suit-wearing, “Lean In” quoting corporate shark.

But this was not that woman.

You see, Shannon had changed … dramatically.

She strolled out of the kitchen in nothing but a worn, overstretched sports bra and a pair of sagging underwear that had clearly lost the will to fight. The bra was so tight it barely contained her, riding up just enough to expose a sliver of underboob with each bounce of her step. Her belly curved outward in a full, heavy dome, swaying gently, unapologetically. Her hips were broad, her thighs thick and dimpled, brushing together in a rhythm that suggested she’d long stopped caring or maybe she’d simply embraced it.

Shannon took a long sip from her mug then gave Madelyn a once-over.

“Jesus, Maddy. You’re still a twig.”

Madelyn offered her a tight and forced smile. “Nice to see you too.”

“No, like, seriously. Do you even eat? Or does your diet just consist of caffeine and nicotine?” Shannon cocked her head. “You look like one of those Love Island bombshells. About to snap in half if someone hugs you too hard”

Madelyn rolled her eyes. “I don’t smoke.”

Shannon snorted. Could’ve fooled me.”

A pause stretched between them, long enough for Madelyn to glance around the room, trying to ground herself in something familiar.

Madelyn folded her arms. “So… what about you? What are you doing here?”

Shannon shrugged, unfazed. “Been here for a while. Moved back home three years ago.”

Madelyn’s brow furrowed. “Three years?”

“Yup.” She leaned against the kitchen doorway, belly resting comfortably against the frame. “Got divorced. Lost my job. A real shitty year.”

Madelyn stared at her. “I’m sorry to hear that Shan”

Shannon gave a small shrug, looking off toward the living room like it was no big deal, but her voice tightened just enough to betray her.

“Yeah. Well. It sucked. Still kind of does…” She paused, then glanced at Madelyn with a curious told of her head. “Mom told us that you are going through something similar?”

Madelyn’s stomach tensed. “Define ‘similar.’”

Shannon raised a brow. “Came home. No job. No man. Lookin’ like you’re one panic attack away from cutting your own bangs.”

Madelyn let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Wow. Okay. That’s… brutal.”

Shannon smiled. “You know me. No filter.”

Madelyn looked down at the floor. “Yeah. Things didn’t really go how I planned.”

“Join the club,” Shannon muttered, sipping from her mug.

Madelyn turned around, but Kayla and her mother were both gone.

“Where did they?” she began but Shannon was quick to reply.

“Kitchen,” Shannon said. “Kayla’s probably already elbow-deep in cookie dough ice cream, and Mom’s likely adding Baileys to her coffee. Or just drinking the Baileys straight.”

Madelyn gave a slow nod, “Well, I’ll just take my things upstairs then,” she said, more to herself than to Shannon.

Shannon gave a nod and turned around, her massive ass jiggling with every step. The thin stretch of her panties was swallowed almost entirely by the deep crevice between her cheeks, looking more like a thong barely holding on. Her flabby thighs rubbed together, the dimples of cellulite visible even in the low light.

Madelyn tightened her grip on the suitcase handle as Shannon’s retreating figure disappeared down the hallway. The faint sound of door clicking shut signified her sister had disappeared into her room.

Alone now Madelyn exhaled softly and turned toward the staircase. Each step groaned faintly beneath her feet, the sound oddly familiar yet distant. At the top, she hesitated slightly before she pushed the door open to her old room.

Warm light seeped in, unveiling the sanctuary of her teenage years. Taped to the walls were remnants of her youthful aspirations: posters of boybands and inspiring female icons filled the room. It was still quite a mess, with scattered books, crumpled notes, old makeup cluttering the desk. Madelyn’s best guess was that her mother had never bothered to clean it up, leaving everything just as she had left it, frozen in time.

Her twin bed, tucked beneath the window, was still draped in the same floral quilt, and the mattress sagged slightly in the middle. It wasn’t exactly a lovely room anymore, but to Madelyn, that was alright after all, it was only temporary.

And so, she began the great clean-up and unpacking. Madelyn tied her hair back, rolled up her sleeves, and got right to work. She started out by tossing away the notes and dried-up makeup into the trash, clearing space on her desk. Then she moved on to the books, carefully sorting them in alphabetical order.

She then looked through her old dresser, finding old clothes folded neatly. Most of it was tossed out without hesitation, the fabrics worn and outdated, but she couldn’t part with her favorite pair of shorts and a top. At last, she unpacked her suitcase, placing her belongings thoughtfully around the room and filling her dresser with her clothes. Soon, the room felt brand new, a perfect blend of past and present, ready for a fresh chapter.

Madelyn had even cleaned her old mirror, wiping away the dust and smudges until the glass gleamed. Now, as she stood before it, she stared at the reflection of herself wearing her favorite shorts and top.

You see, Madelyn was a beautiful woman. She had blonde hair and ocean blue eyes, traits she had inherited from her father. Her features were sharp and simply striking, with high cheekbones and a jawline that framed her face with elegance.

She stood at 5’8, her body lean and well-proportioned. Her waist was tight and toned, drawing in to emphasize her smooth, athletic curves. Her chest was full, perky, and well-shaped, around a B-cup, a striking contrast to her slim frame. Madelyn’s stomach carried a faint, natural definition. It was smooth and toned in a way that spoke of natural fitness rather than deliberate training. Her thighs were long, slim, and lightly toned, more wiry than bulky. Her glutes were compact and lifted, firm rather than full. Overall, lean proportions with clear definition but not much mass.

It's probably no surprise to y’all that Madelyn broke a lot of hearts in high school and that a lot of girls envied her beauty because they felt overlooked and outshined. It didn’t help that Madelyn outperformed every single one of them in PE. She was simply faster and stronger than the others, which obviously too caught the boys’ attention. However, for many of them, their initial attraction gradually diminished after facing rejection, often morphing into resentment.

Anyway, that’s all in the past, for now, that is.

After Madelyn was done ogling herself out in the mirror, she felt like she needed to move. So, she decided to go for a run. Something about it always helped clear her head and made her feel better.

And with that, Madelyn went downstairs briefly announcing that she was going for a run, and with that the door was slammed shut.