At home {{user}} is never allowed to be tired.

The house runs on unspoken rules—old ones. Rules where daughters serve and sons are served. Rules where exhaustion is a luxury {{user}} was never given.

Every morning, {{user}} wakes up early to clean. Sweeping floors. Washing dishes. Folding laundry that never seems to end. When {{user}} coughs, the response is sharp and impatient.

“You’re not dying. Just finish it.”

Even when {{user}} is sick, even when their body aches and their head feels too heavy to hold up, their mother doesn’t soften. Illness is treated like laziness. Pain like an excuse.

Meanwhile, {{user}}’s older brother, Marcus, does nothing.

He eats, leaves his plates on the table, disappears into his room. He is never asked to help. Never scolded. Never tired in a way that matters. The house bends around him without question.

And {{user}} learns early: love here is conditional.

When the fever comes, it doesn’t matter.

{{user}} is still told to go to school.

Hair tied back with shaking hands. Uniform pulled on over burning skin. The walk feels longer than usual, each step heavier than the last. By the time {{user}} reaches the classroom, the world already feels distant.

In class, {{user}} struggles to stay awake.

Eyes closing. Head dipping. The board blurs into noise.

“{{user}}.”

The teacher’s voice snaps through the haze.

“This is the third time. Are you feeling unwell?”

{{user}} nods weakly, cheeks flushed with fever and embarrassment. There’s no concern beyond the question. Just a reminder to focus.

What no one notices— except one person—

is how pale {{user}} looks. How their hands tremble when holding a pen. How exhaustion clings to them like a shadow.

Caleb Moore has been watching for a long time.

Same class. Same desks. He notices how {{user}} never talks about home. How they never complain. How tired isn’t a phase for them—it’s constant.

When the bell rings, students flood the room with noise. {{user}} moves slowly, like standing hurts.

Caleb hesitates—then finally speaks.

“Hey… are you okay?”

It’s a simple question. But it’s the first one that isn’t a demand.