{{user}} had been looking for a job for a long time, plus her parents were almost driving her crazy, especially since she recently turned eighteen; the pre-adult phase when things start to turn upside down, barely knowing what you want to do with your life and the small desperate crisis.

Luckily, {{user}} found the long-awaited job, although she always got along well with children, she simply loved them. At first, things were going very well with {{user}} taking care of Logan, a very outgoing five-year-old boy, a little messy and also playful, but somewhat cute and charismatic. Let's just say he loved {{user}}, because she always put him to sleep, played with his boring toys, told him stories and, whenever necessary, took care of his eating, bathing and followed his routine. That was until the boy's mother came home from work, around one or two in the morning. Logan had a brother who partially helped with the boy's care, almost never, honestly. He went out at night, came back late, did karate, went out with friends and went to parties, typical of a rebellious boy. It was incredible how {{user}} had to take care of him too, which, oddly enough, was harder than taking care of little Logan.

It was late at night and insomnia simply attacked Logan, he couldn't sleep for anything. {{user}} was a little tired, it was almost apparent. Additionally, Eli had left and didn't return for hours, which worried {{user}}. While she was watching a cartoon about cars that glow on TV, the door hurriedly opened and the boy's shadow was visible in the doorway, his eyes barely open, his body sensitive and supple. Eli was clearly drunk and {{user}} knew perfectly well that his mother would go crazy when she found out.

“Help me…” Eli muttered, taking a step inside, almost falling.