Amara pov:
The evening air hit gently against my face.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo1mkER5mAF
Cool. Still.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNscaYRBNbC
The streets were lit with soft yellow lights, and the hum of quiet city life drifted through.
People passed me.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNA5XQK3QAy
Some in suits. Some in slippers.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAOWAt93KIY
Talking. Rushing. Existing.
I walked silently through it all.
The light from shop windows spilled across the footpath. Cars passed slowly.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1Wqe7Pbrvk
I crossed a street and turned a corner. The little bell of a bicycle rang somewhere behind me.
After a few more steps, I reached it—113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwcJyz0XaOP
The small restaurant on the corner. Warm light glowing from inside, glass door slightly fogged from the inside heat.
I pushed open the door.
The familiar scent of spices, soup, and dish soap hit me instantly.
"Hey, Amara," a voice called from behind the counter.
I smiled faintly. "Hi."
I hung my coat on the hook near the back door and pulled on the apron over my clothes.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgJdnuTaFeM
It was stained a little—rice water, curry, maybe dish soap too.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6NL2my1gmq
But it was mine. My shift had started.
More than a waitress.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFwjqpx83cv
More than a dishwasher.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPA4wj2JQTK
Less than seen.
But I was here.
The small restaurant buzzed with the usual evening rhythm—clinking cutlery, distant chatter, the low hum of the kitchen fan. The warm air carried the scent of fried garlic and steam from boiling pots.
I tied my apron tighter, rolled up my sleeves, and walked toward the sink full of dishes.
Mara stood beside me, already scrubbing plates, her dark hair tied into a loose bun, sleeves wet up to her elbows.
"Late again, huh?" she said with a little smirk.
I gave her a soft smile. "Traffic."
"Liar. You just walk like a ghost," she laughed.
I let out a small laugh too, grabbing a plate and dipping it into the soapy water. "Maybe."
We stood together, shoulder to shoulder, washing dishes like we'd done a hundred times before. Talking in pieces—bits of stories, silly comments, silence in between.
Mara was the only one here who really noticed me.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDTZgdpzBTz
She never asked too much. Never pitied. Just stood with me.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAOzOgFYoJz
And that was enough.
A voice called out from the kitchen window.
"Order for table four! Serve it, please."
I wiped my hands quickly, took the tray, and walked out into the dining area.
Two people sat at the table—laughing, dressed in clean, expensive coats. A man and a woman, maybe a couple.
I smiled politely, placing the dishes in front of them carefully.
"Here you go. Enjoy your meal," I said softly, bowing just a little out of habit.
They barely looked at me.
I turned, walked back to the kitchen, and returned to the sink where the mountain of dishes waited like always.
I again lost in my thoughts ..
We work because we have to.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHruZwHRQcP
Because life doesn't give discounts for soft hearts or sad eyes.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkyZiFJpNFG
We work to eat. To wear. To live.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrzgwTRErdQ
That's it.
Some people work to survive. Others work to show off.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6znNitoUIa
To post it. Frame it. Flaunt it.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlBscsfS33r
New phones. Expensive bags. Fancy food... they don't even finish.
And then there's us—washing their plates after them.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDLCp9Fq8FF
Counting every coin. Stretching every bill.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYulzMNFluG
Because we don't have backup plans. We don't have inheritance. We don't have "just in case" savings.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzXFZ4pRaZQ
We only have "just enough."
Mara glanced at me as I stared too long at the water.
"What's going on in that overthinking head of yours?" she asked, bumping her shoulder into mine gently.
I blinked, smiled faintly. "Just thinking."
"Don't. The water's already depressing," she joked, waving a soaked hand.
I chuckled, then sighed. "People don't realize how heavy life is for some of us."
She didn't say anything for a second.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEJYU1eY6jt
Then quietly muttered, "They don't want to know. It ruins the taste of their food."
We kept washing.
The sink gurgled. The clock ticked slowly. More orders came and went. More dishes piled up.
But here we were—two girls in aprons, soaked hands, and hearts stitched quietly together by the need to keep going...for living .
The rush slowed for a while.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1PBEj5BNDl
The restaurant had entered that brief lull between dinner and closing. The kitchen buzz had softened, and the noise outside was distant.
Mara and I sat on two overturned crates in the back, near the small window that never quite shut.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDvdTdKtI12
Steam clung to the ceiling. The fan creaked above us.
She was tying and untying her apron string with her head down.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu2RgJsVeqi
I sipped the lukewarm tea someone had handed us earlier.
"I swear," she muttered suddenly, voice tight, "I didn't even say anything this time."
I looked at her.
She wasn't joking now.
"I just walked in," she continued, eyes not meeting mine, "he was already angry. At Mom. At the noise. At the silence. At dinner being late. At breathing, maybe."
She laughed bitterly. It cracked slightly in the middle.
"I tried to ignore it. I tried to eat quietly. But he looked at me and said, 'What are you staring at?'"113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCyj9y4RMSf
She blinked slowly.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZlYHpKUckt
"I said nothing. Just that—'nothing.'"113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwPzq3jQp5A
A pause.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOAtAEREZTr
"And that's all it took. One word. That's all it ever takes with him."
She rubbed the back of her neck.
"Next thing I know, he throws the glass—at the wall, not at me, but it shattered everywhere. Mom starts crying. My little brother hides again. Like always."
Her fingers trembled as she twisted the apron tighter around her palm.
"I shouted back this time," she whispered, "and he told me I'm becoming like my mother—useless. That I should be glad he didn't hit me yet."
I didn't say anything.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw3HMNHJC72
Not right away.
What do you say to pain that familiar?
Mara finally looked up, eyes not wet, just tired.
"So yeah," she said with a broken laugh, "That's the current episode of the lovely drama that is my life. Welcome back to hell."
I placed my cup down gently.
"Don't worry," I said quietly.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ25dFTBJ7wM
"Life will move through this too."
She looked at me. For a moment, I thought she might argue. That she might say No, this won't pass.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1Q00DOmZw0
But she just nodded. Just once.
A voice from the kitchen broke the silence.
"Girls! Come on, break's over!"
We stood up slowly, brushing off our aprons.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7BZysbtIWj
She tied hers again. I tied mine.
No more words were said.
But something was understood.
And in a world where understanding is rare—113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1n4M8mfFlW
That was enough.
The shift had ended.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8Nf5xPugey
I walked through the night streets slowly, the cold biting through the thin fabric of my coat sleeves.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBJNDzblWI2
The city lights flickered in the puddles on the road. A quiet kind of noise hung in the air—soft engines, distant voices, and the hush of people getting ready to sleep.
As I passed a small bakery, I stopped.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYfCwIhvgHz
The window glowed warmly, golden lights spilling onto the footpath.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRVN8qF0I2s
Inside, on the counter, I saw it—the puffy chocolate brownie Mona always loved.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoYEs801mBj
The one she used to point at every time we passed by.
I walked in, the doorbell chiming gently above me.
A few minutes later, I stepped out again with a paper bag in my hand and a small smile tugging at my lips.
When I reached home, the lights inside were dim.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb9AK1kBgIx
Mona was curled up on the couch in her pajamas, a blanket around her legs, watching a cartoon quietly.
She turned as I entered.
I held out the paper bag.
"Guess what I got?"
Her eyes lit up instantly. "Brownie?! No way!"
She jumped up and ran toward me, hugging me tightly.
"Thank you!" she said, grinning up at me.
I smiled, resting my chin gently on her head for a second. "Eat slowly."
She ran back to the couch with the bag in her hand like it was treasure.
I looked around.
Mom's room door was shut. I knocked lightly.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAxmU7nXR6O
No answer.
I pushed the door open—empty.
Like always.
I didn't feel like eating.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyFGoBmGI9s
like always .
I walked to my room slowly, changed into my skin pale coloured nighty, and pulled open the window.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw9ZeIQ7HKq
The night air slipped in, cool and heavy.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRV0LLAGKZl
Outside, the world looked tired too.
I glanced across the street.
The neighbor's window—closed again.113Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDYiZeIDY69
Curtains drawn. Lights off. Silent.
I stood there for a moment longer, then closed my window.
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