Amara pov:
The evening air hit gently against my face.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf0CP8E97H8
Cool. Still.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGbcbKPkRhG
The streets were lit with soft yellow lights, and the hum of quiet city life drifted through.
People passed me.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1w8D7heZIP
Some in suits. Some in slippers.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhVC9xTBbME
Talking. Rushing. Existing.
I walked silently through it all.
The light from shop windows spilled across the footpath. Cars passed slowly.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ11ERp7M1av
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—53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh6YDcX7Hcr
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.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ73UVFaId61
It was stained a little—rice water, curry, maybe dish soap too.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ04rZMjhNfj
But it was mine. My shift had started.
More than a waitress.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYp1a8JqoEw
More than a dishwasher.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkCCPpoBM0g
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.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMM1GqZ5wvs
She never asked too much. Never pitied. Just stood with me.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaNblzcMz35
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.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWoslJk3k91
Because life doesn't give discounts for soft hearts or sad eyes.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡayNru6Zi4F
We work to eat. To wear. To live.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ46GsnYiTHj
That's it.
Some people work to survive. Others work to show off.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgQKdXmaLST
To post it. Frame it. Flaunt it.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7I0UCq1fn1
New phones. Expensive bags. Fancy food... they don't even finish.
And then there's us—washing their plates after them.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOqpX3BCUMR
Counting every coin. Stretching every bill.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkNUwz3lzPw
Because we don't have backup plans. We don't have inheritance. We don't have "just in case" savings.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIA8btFSYbQ
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.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkW7vxQ9NeO
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.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVGjU8641SX
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.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUTbvVkJ5TA
Steam clung to the ceiling. The fan creaked above us.
She was tying and untying her apron string with her head down.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4lWSkmbmDL
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?'"53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr9DrFrjBaB
She blinked slowly.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpcpi5Alye6
"I said nothing. Just that—'nothing.'"53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPfxhRNQtEB
A pause.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRGJ2iszzOD
"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.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9bQG3Cs50X
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.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKJ8ThEnj2Y
"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.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8aJg7eLp2N
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.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ95WgrWzyjt
She tied hers again. I tied mine.
No more words were said.
But something was understood.
And in a world where understanding is rare—53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoyI0xHJ1wC
That was enough.
The shift had ended.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD0P4345IA6
I walked through the night streets slowly, the cold biting through the thin fabric of my coat sleeves.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcHPLLMN7te
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.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4kVWd1uRwz
The window glowed warmly, golden lights spilling onto the footpath.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOU1h2ahluw
Inside, on the counter, I saw it—the puffy chocolate brownie Mona always loved.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSgtnGMlJKh
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.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDPt1JxLtss
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.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7xyOpqehKn
No answer.
I pushed the door open—empty.
Like always.
I didn't feel like eating.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmbkKC7PVlo
like always .
I walked to my room slowly, changed into my skin pale coloured nighty, and pulled open the window.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFy4LIuXMDo
The night air slipped in, cool and heavy.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlY6wX2AKNr
Outside, the world looked tired too.
I glanced across the street.
The neighbor's window—closed again.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRBiHygD2uB
Curtains drawn. Lights off. Silent.
I stood there for a moment longer, then closed my window.
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