Rosie, an 18-year-old girl has already survived more than most people face in a lifetime. Born into a life steeped in danger and whispered secrets, she's trapped between a father who gambles and drinks away their future, the memory of a mother who c...
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Rosie sighed as she stood in front of her house, her steps heavy, her body weary after a long day of work. Entering through the gate, the yard looked quiet and empty, and she paused for a moment, a fleeting image of her mother playing in her mind. She missed the times when her mother would sit on the balcony, waiting patiently for her children to return home.
But those days were long gone. Her father, deceived and trapped by gambling, had become addicted, losing all sense of responsibility as the head of the family. Her younger brother had followed in his footsteps, falling into the same destructive patterns. Her father often struck her mother—and Rosie herself—whenever she asked her mother for money.
The memory twisted sharply in her chest, a piercing pain that made her shiver.
"This isn't the time to miss her..." she whispered softly to herself, forcing her eyes forward as she tried to push the past away.
She stepped into her house and immediately noticed a figure sprawled across the floor. Her father was passed out drunk, his body slumped awkwardly, surrounded by the mess of the living room—scattered food wrappers, empty sake bottles, and plastic containers littering the floor.
Rosie shook her head, a mix of frustration and exhaustion washing over her. Without a word, she stepped around him and made her way to her room, the familiar weight of weariness settling onto her shoulders.
She shrugged off her coat and hung it neatly behind the door. Moving quickly, she prepared to take a shower, eager to wash away the fatigue that weighed her down and to get to bed as soon as possible. The hot water soothed her tired muscles, and for a brief moment, the day's exhaustion seemed to melt away.
After her shower, she arranged her bed, straightening the sheets before switching off the light. She sank into her mattress with a soft sigh, letting her body relax completely.
"It's so nice..." she murmured, closing her eyes. The heaviness in her eyelids, present all day, finally gave way to the comforting pull of sleep.
The morning sun filtered weakly through the curtains as Rosie rose, still carrying the lingering exhaustion from yesterday. Her father was passed out on the living room floor, snoring softly, oblivious to the disorder around him. She clenched her jaw but didn't dwell on him; there were more immediate tasks.
She moved through the house quietly, tidying up the scattered food wrappers and empty bottles, sweeping the floor and organizing the chaos as best as she could. Each movement felt mechanical, a routine she had long adopted to survive the household's dysfunction.
Just as she was finishing up, the front door creaked open, and her younger brother stumbled in, swaying unsteadily, half-conscious from last night's drinking.
"Oi... Rosie..." he slurred, his words thick and slow.
Rosie's eyes narrowed. "Where have you been? Again?" she snapped, her patience already stretched thin.
