I have a family,
We were supposed to be happy.
At least I though so,
At least they said so.
We are not rich, not normal [Definition common;lots;too much] we are poor [Definition useless; trash; wasted] we are too poor that all the money we have are used for my brother [Definition born of the same mother; male; student] we weren't like this until father left [Definition cheater].
I am sixteen, a male human, a waste of life. My mother is in her 60s, all she does every day is going to work on cold labour with a boss that points his finger on top of her head.
My mother,
My poor poor mother like me.
I cannot blame her nor help, she is trying to help us grow up so we can travel within our own will into the wide and beautiful, yet cold world to create another heaven better than her's of our own. I love her.
My brother, a lovely child boy, 11 years old, thriving in his school grades. Mother and I were so proud of him. We did all we did to support his learning and growth even if that means death and starving of ourselves.
YOU ARE READING
Table
Short StoryHe comes, every time on the same day to that table, that chair, ordering the same bowl. Hi wingless here~~~ this is another short story for you to read and explore! warning! includes sad emotions etc <3 Btw this is not really super author written b...
