Morning came too quickly.
Mama's cough was worse when I woke up. Each sound cut into me, sharp and helpless. I placed my hand on her forehead. It was warm — too warm.
"I'll be fine," she said before I could speak. "You should go to school."
I nodded, though my heart wasn't convinced.
On my way out, I noticed a small sign nailed to a pole near the road:
HELP NEEDED – DISH WASHER.
I stopped walking.
My school bag felt heavier on my shoulders as I stared at the sign. Dish washer meant long hours, sore hands, and little pay. But it also meant food. Medicine. Maybe even fewer worries for Mama.
I looked at the time. If I stopped, I would be late for school. Again.
I stood there for a long moment, torn between the future I dreamed of and the reality pressing against me. Life didn't wait for answers. It demanded choices.
Finally, I turned back.
The small roadside restaurant smelled of oil and burnt food. The owner, a large man with tired eyes, looked at me from behind the counter.
"You're young," he said. "You can work?"
"Yes," I answered quickly. "I can."
He studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Come tomorrow morning."
Relief and fear rushed through me at the same time.
As I walked home, my feet felt lighter, but my chest felt heavy. I had made my first choice — not the kind you dream of, but the kind life forces on you.
And deep down, I knew this was only the beginning.