Chapter 1: The Weight She Carries

It was starting to get dark as I reached the doorstep of the house, right in front of it lay piles of envelopes. I knew what they were without picking it up at first, my chest started beating like it was shot with an arrow. I picked them up, entered the house and went straight into my room. I knew mom would be asleep because she's always asleep by this time so I didn't bother opening her room so as to not disturb her.

I just got back from yet another failed job hunt, every time it's either they are not looking for new staff or my qualifications don't meet the requirements. What have I done to deserve this from the universe, is this how my life is meant to be. My thoughts were spiralling, I guess that's what I get for being an overthinker.

I picked up one of the papers that was sitting on my bed and stared at the big red letters stamped across it. Final Notice. My chest felt heavy. If I didn’t pay soon, they would cut us off. No light, no water, and worse, no way to keep mum's medicine cold in the fridge.

I pushed the bills aside and buried my face in my hands. My eyes stung so bad, but I refuse to cry, I had promised myself that I wouldn’t cry anymore from the first day I realized mum had cancer. Crying didn’t fix anything, it didn’t buy the medicine, it didn’t stop cancer from spreading in mum's body and it definitely didn't provide the money I need.

My stomach growled for the millionth time like always, reminding me I had not eaten since morning. I ignored it, I've gotten used to it by now trying to save every money for mum's food and drugs.

“Aliana,” my mum's weak voice called from the other room.

I quickly wiped my eyes and stood. “I’m coming, Mama.”

I entered the small room where she lay in bed, she looked so pale, if this was a movie she would have fit the role of a vampire, her skin almost see through, her hair thinner than it used to be. But when she saw me , she smiled softly, always trying to put on a bold font.

“You should sleep,” mum whispered. “It’s late.”

“I will, Mama. I just wanted to check on you first.” I forced a smile, pulling the blanket higher over her chest.

Mum's hand reached out, trembling, and touched my cheek. “You’re carrying too much, my love. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, holding her hand tightly. “I’ll find a way. Don’t worry about me.”

She gave a faint laugh, one that turned into a cough. “You’re too young to carry the world.”

I stayed there until her breathing softened and sleep pulled her under again. Only then did I return to my room, where the bills still waited like monsters I couldn’t fight or destroy.

I sat on the floor, hugging my knees. The silence pressed down on me, picking at my skin. I thought about all the jobs I applied for, shops, cafes, cleaning work, but nothing had worked out. They all wanted experience I didn’t have or hours I couldn’t handle while caring for mum

My phone buzzed on the mattress. A message, I picked it up and saw my best friend’s name Lyra.

“Still awake?”

I typed back quickly. “ Yeah.”

A moment later, another message popped up. Come see me tomorrow. I might have something that can help.

I frowned. What could she possibly mean? Lyra worked in the city, and every time I asked about it, she only gave vague answers. But if there was even a chance it could help her mother, she has to go.

I set the phone down and leaned back against the wall, closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t come easily. My thoughts continued to chase me in circles.

What if mum’s time was running out? What if tomorrow was too late? What if I failed again?

By the time morning light crept through the curtains, I hadn’t slept at all, my eyes swollen with eye bags, I dressed quickly, tying my long hair into a messy bun. My reflection in the mirror showed tired eyes and pale skin, but I didn’t care at the moment. I have more important things to worry about. Mum was still sleeping when I slipped out. The walk to the bus stop was long, my shoes worn thin, but I didn’t care. I only thought about Lyra’s message.

When I finally reached the small cafe , where they always met, Lyra was already there, sipping coffee with her usual bright smile. Lyra always looked perfect, hair neat, clothes stylish, nails done. She was the opposite of me, who could barely afford soap sometimes.

“Ali!” Lyra waved, standing to hug her. “You look like you didn’t sleep.”

I gave a small shrug. “I couldn’t. Things are… bad.”

“They’ll get better,” Lyra said quickly, squeezing her hand. “And maybe I can help.”

I looked at her with tired eyes. “How?”

Lyra leaned closer, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. “My workplace is hiring. The pay is good, better than any shop or cafe. You’d make enough for your mom’s treatment.”

I blinked. “Your workplace? But you never told me what you do.”

Lyra smiled, a little guilty but still playful. “I work at a club. A strip club.”

My stomach dropped so fast, I almost laughed, thinking it was a joke. But Lyra’s face stayed serious.

“You want me to dance, are you crazy?” I asked, half shocked, half offended.

“No, no!” Lyra shook her head quickly. “Not dance. Just waitressing, carrying drinks, cleaning tables, that kind of thing. It’s not glamorous, but the tips are crazy. You’d earn in one night what you’d earn in a week at any cafe”

I stared at her, unsure what to say. The idea of walking into such a place made my chest tighten. But then I thought of my mum, pale and coughing in bed, I thought of the bills stacked on the floor, I thought of the doctor’s voice saying she needs treatment.

Lyra touched her hand again. “Ali, I wouldn’t tell you this if I didn’t think it could help. Just try. One night. If you hate it, you can leave.”

I sat there, my throat dry , staring into space, my heart said no, but my mind whispered yes. I had no other options left.

I finally looked at Lyra and nodded, though it felt like signing a deal with something dark. “Okay,” I whispered. “One night.”

Lyra’s smile widened but I was staring at my hands, wondering if I had just taken the first step into something I couldn’t escape.