Chapter 3 The Weight Of Responsibilities

• I woke up early, my mind racing with thoughts of the day ahead. After a quick shower, I walked past Mum, who was giving David a bath.
• "Good morning, Mum! Good morning, David!" I chirped, wrapping my towel around me tightly.
• I frantically searched for something to wear—a presentable outfit was essential for my job search. My high school diploma felt like a flimsy shield against the competitive job market.
• My best chance, I reasoned, lay at a supermarket or a diner, where most of my friends had found jobs right after graduation.
• Except for Ria—she had been absent from my life since the accident, and its aftermath had left me emotionally distant, consumed by the pressing need to support my family.
• I finally settled on a blue long-sleeved shirt and a black skirt, inspecting my reflection in the mirror.
• "You look corporate-ready," I told myself, adjusting my collar and slinging my tote bag over my shoulder.
• I took a deep breath, looked directly at my reflection, and repeated, "I’ve got this," until I felt a flicker of confidence. With one last look at the mirror, I ventured back to Mum and David.
• "I've got to go," I said, waving goodbye. "Good luck!" Mum called after me, her voice filled with encouragement.
• Dressed and determined, I stepped outside, but a wave of uncertainty washed over me. “Where to now?” I wondered, hesitating for a moment on the sidewalk.
• I walked aimlessly, scanning the shops for a "help wanted" sign. An opening pastries store caught my eye, and I approached the woman unlocking the door.
• "Do you need any help, ma'am? I’m looking for a job," I asked, flashing a hopeful smile. She shook her head.
• "Sorry, I’m already overstaffed." Disappointment sank in, but I pressed on, telling myself that finding a job wouldn’t be as difficult as it seemed.
• After wandering a few blocks, I felt the fatigue creeping in and decided to rest under a nearby tree. I was ready to call it a day when, out of the blue, I spotted a familiar face—Sarah, a classmate from school.
• "Hey, Diana! What are you doing here?" she asked, concern etched across her features. I shared my job-hunting struggles with her, and she broke into a mischievous smile.
• "Why not come work with me at the diner?" she suggested, offering her hand to pull me up. A spark of hope ignited within me.
• "Really? I’d love to work at a diner!" I exclaimed, feeling revitalized as we walked hand in hand toward her workplace.
• When we arrived, the diner buzzed with activity—customers were chatting, waiters rushed about, and the atmosphere was charged with energy.
• I glanced at my watch and noticed the time—it wasn’t even the afternoon shift yet.
• Sarah reassured me, "Don’t worry about it; we’re just in time." A plan started to form in my mind: I could take on morning, afternoon, and night shifts to bring in extra money.
• We approached the manager’s office, where a gruff voice invited us in. Mr. Penny, a rugged man in his fifties, greeted us with a laugh.
• "Of course we need help; this place is always packed!" he chuckled, rifling through his desk for a job application. I shot a glance at Sarah, whose encouraging nod eased my nerves, and I signed the paper without really reading it.
• I wondered what I’d just agreed to but trusted Sarah’s judgment.
• "You’ll earn four dollars an hour," Mr. Penny instructed after stamping the paper. I felt a twist of disappointment.
• “Four dollars an hour isn’t enough to help my family,” I thought. Gathering my courage, I interjected, “Can you increase it to ten dollars an hour?” His laughter boomed through the small room, and I could see Sarah wince.
• He finally stopped, his expression turning serious. "I don't even make that much—if you don't want the job, then get out."
• Fortunately, Sarah swiftly stepped in. "She wants the job, sir." Mr. Penny then instructed her to fetch my uniform and get to work. Once in the kitchen, Sarah handed me a uniform and provided a quick orientation.
• The work was straightforward—taking orders, delivering food, and ensuring that customers had a pleasant dining experience.
• It wasn’t difficult, but it was far from easy; I was constantly on my feet, serving tables, and my legs ached from the relentless motion.
• Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, Sarah approached me with a smile. "For your first time, you're doing great! Just two more hours left." I nodded, determined to power through.
• With each passing minute, I glanced at the clock, willing it to move faster. When the night shift staff began arriving, I felt a wave of relief; my shift was almost over.
• Once our shift ended at eight o’clock, a huge sigh escaped me. The thought of finally resting felt heavenly. I looked for Sarah in the kitchen—she was ready to leave, her bag slung over her shoulder.
• "Let’s grab a bite before heading home," she suggested, and I eagerly agreed, feeling the pangs of hunger.
• "You're allowed to take leftovers home, too," she added, her eyes twinkling with excitement. I couldn't help but smile; this job was already a blessing.
• No more scrambling to find ingredients for dinner—I could provide for my family, even if just in small doses.
• As we walked home, illuminated by the warm glow of streetlights, Sarah suggested we stop for Chinese food.
• "We can’t afford that," I protested half-heartedly, but she insisted, "It's on me." Reluctantly, I accepted her generosity, my thoughts racing about how someone like her could afford such luxuries.
• Seated outside the restaurant, I hesitated to ask how she managed to afford our meal.
• Just then, Sarah asked me, "I thought you were heading to college soon. Why the job search?" The embarrassment hit me like a wave, but I knew I had to explain.
• So, I took a deep breath and shared the story of the accident and how the responsibility of caring for my family fell solely on my shoulders. I noticed her compassion swell as she listened.
• Curiosity took hold, and I turned the question back at her. "What about you? Why aren’t you planning on going to college?" Sarah disclosed her own struggles—a father who abandoned the family and a mother who had passed away.
• Now, she was responsible for caring for her little brother. I was shocked at the weight she carried.
• "But how can you afford Chinese food if you're struggling?" I pressed in disbelief. With a playful grin, she responded, "Don’t worry about it," dodging my question with humor.
• I let it go, focusing instead on the food, deciding not to pry further into her personal affairs.