Elara’s POV
It had been months since Mom started getting sick. At first, it wasn’t so bad. A little cough here and there, some fatigue that came and went. But it kept getting worse. She wouldn’t admit it, of course. She never did. Mom was always the strong one, the one who held everything together. But I could see it, how she was struggling.
Ethan noticed it too. He was fifteen, just a couple of years younger than me, but he acted like a little adult sometimes. He could tell when Mom wasn’t feeling well, even when she tried to hide it. He’d try to help her, but there was only so much a fifteen-year-old could do. It wasn’t enough. None of it was.
I tried to take care of things the best I could, but it was hard. There were days when I had to take on too much, days when I didn’t even know how I was going to manage. The bills stacked up, and Ethan needed to finish school. He was smart, and he deserved to graduate, but money was tight. I didn’t even have a high school diploma, and that made it harder to find good work. I knew I needed to make it work somehow. I had to. For Mom. For Ethan.
One afternoon, after coming back from a long shift at the diner, I found Mom on the couch. Her skin looked too pale, and her hair was messier than usual. I could hear her breathing, shallow and slow. My stomach dropped. It was hard to ignore it when it was so obvious.
"Mom?" I called softly, walking toward her.
She turned her head toward me, managing a small smile. "Hey, Elara. How was work?"
"Busy," I said, trying not to show the exhaustion in my voice. "You okay?"
She shrugged lightly, trying to act like it was no big deal. But I could see the way her hands trembled as she reached for the blanket. "Just tired, honey. I'll be fine."
I didn’t believe her. I had learned not to. "Mom," I said, sitting next to her, "you need to go to the doctor. We need to get you checked out."
She shook her head quickly. "I’m fine, really. It’s just a cold, or... maybe I’m just run down. I don’t need a doctor for that."
I didn’t argue with her. I had learned to choose my battles. But inside, I was furious. Furious at her stubbornness, at the way she always tried to push things aside as if they didn’t matter. I couldn’t afford to let her keep ignoring it. But how could I make her listen?
I stood up, my mind racing. "You need rest. Let me make dinner tonight. I’ll take care of things."
She smiled again, but there was something tired in her eyes. "You’re always taking care of things, Elara. You’re doing too much already."
Ethan came into the room, his school bag slung over his shoulder. He looked at Mom, then at me. "Is she okay?" His voice was quieter than usual, like he already knew the answer.
"She’s not feeling well," I said, trying to keep things light. "But we’re okay. We’ll figure it out."
Ethan didn’t buy it. He walked over to Mom and gently touched her shoulder. "Mom, you need to go to the doctor."
Mom closed her eyes for a moment, but she didn’t argue. I could see the weight of everything on her. She didn’t have the energy for a fight. And neither did I.
"Maybe tomorrow," she murmured. "I’ll see how I feel in the morning."
Ethan didn’t say anything more, but he gave me a look, the kind that said he wasn’t going to let this go. I could tell he was worried, and I hated that I couldn’t fix it for him.
Later that evening, as Ethan worked on his homework at the table, I cleaned up the kitchen. I thought about what he said, about how he needed to finish school. He was smart, too smart to let all his potential go to waste. I had to help him, but how could I? How could I help him get the education he needed when I was struggling just to get by?
I remembered all the times I had skipped school, all the chances I’d lost because we couldn’t afford anything better. I didn’t want that for Ethan. He deserved more. But how could I give him that when I didn’t even know how to give myself more?
After dinner, I found myself sitting next to Mom on the couch, both of us quiet for a while. She looked worn out, more than usual. I tried not to show how scared I was, but it was hard. She was the rock in our family. And if she fell apart... I didn’t know what would happen to us.
"I’ll figure something out," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. I wasn’t sure if I was talking to her or to myself.
She looked at me, her eyes soft with the weight of everything she hadn’t said. "You don’t have to do it all, Elara. I know you’re trying. I see how hard you’re working."
"I have to, Mom," I said. "I’m the only one who can right now."
Mom’s face softened, but her eyes still carried the sadness of someone who had given up too much already. "I just don’t want you to get overwhelmed. You’re still so young."
"I’m old enough to take care of you and Ethan," I said, my voice more determined than I felt. "I won’t let you down."
She reached for my hand, her fingers weak but warm. "I’m proud of you. I don’t say it enough, but I am."
Those words hit harder than I expected. The truth was, I didn’t feel proud of myself. I didn’t feel like I was doing enough. I was struggling. But hearing her say that made me want to keep going, even when it seemed impossible.
The next few weeks were a blur of long shifts at the diner, rushing to help Ethan with his homework, and trying to make sure Mom was getting the rest she needed. I couldn’t afford to take her to the doctor, not without missing work, and missing work meant even fewer options for paying bills. Every decision felt like a gamble.
One night, after another long day, I was at the kitchen table, calculating what we had left. It wasn’t much. There was no room for error. I was exhausted, my head pounding, and I couldn’t even remember the last time I had a full night’s sleep.
Ethan walked in, rubbing his eyes. "Elara, I was thinking… maybe I could get a part-time job. I could help out with the bills. I know I’m only fifteen, but—"
I cut him off before he could finish. "No. Absolutely not. You’re not going to work yet. You need to focus on school, Ethan. That’s your job right now."
He hesitated, clearly wanting to argue, but he didn’t. "Okay. But... you’re doing all this on your own, and I just want to help."
“I know you do,” I said softly, feeling my heart ache. “But you need to finish school. You’re going to get your education, Ethan. I’ll make sure of it.”
He gave me a small smile, but I could see the worry in his eyes. "You don’t have to do it alone, Elara. You don’t."
I didn’t know how to tell him that it felt like I was. I didn’t know how to say that no matter how hard I worked, it never seemed like enough.
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