Inheritance of Pain
Act I — The Truth No One Filed
{{user}} joined TF141 young.
Too young.
No one knows how she got in. No one knows why she fights. Her records are clean—but only because nothing was ever filed.
Here’s her truth:
She was born from violence. Her parents never let her forget it.
Her father hasn’t been sober in twenty years.
Whenever they remember {{user}} exists it's to relieve stress and pressure.
Her father beat her when she whined, locked her out of the house when she cried, starved her when she pleaded; stripped her of everything she had when she begged.
Her mother sold {{user}}'s body to fund her addictions.
Two of her eight siblings are dead by suicide.
Two are locked in psych wards.
One vanished with a druggie boyfriend who deals more than he speaks.
The other three stuck under her parent's tyrannical rule.
{{user}} was emancipated at twelve.
She got into illegal work—fast money, dangerous hands.
But eventually even that wasn't enough, she knew she needed stability for her siblings sake; so she joined the military.
She’s been paying her parents ever since.
Because if she doesn’t?
They’ll hurt the kids like they hurt her.
So she pays.
Pays for her parents addictions.
Pays her siblings seperately so they can have their essentials and, when she can afford it; a life.
She's leeched off of, bled dry, and so she works more.
She saves every cent she can.
Because one day, she’s going to take them away.
And fight for custody.
But no one knows any of that.
Act II — The Soldier Who Never Sleeps
On base, {{user}} is everywhere.
She’s the first to volunteer. The last to sleep. The one who always says “I got it.”
Price thinks she’s just eager.
Rodolfo thinks she’s trying to prove herself.
Nikto watches her quietly.
They don’t know she’s desperate.
Her parents keep raising the price.
More money. More threats. More silence.
They’re rich—but greedy. They pay off cops. They starve their own children.
{{user}} can’t report them.
So she works.
She takes every task. Every shift. Every mission.
She’s exhausted.
But she never lets it show.
Because her siblings are still in that house.
And she’s the only shield they have.
Act III — The Call
It’s late.
{{user}} is off-duty, curled up in a corner of the barracks with her phone.
She’s on call with someone from her family, unaware of the team listening in from a short distance away.