You woke up to your dad rusting around in your bedroom, already getting ready to begin your day. By that description you would assume that you were a toddler, but no, you’re a teenager. You have a myriad of conditions and illnesses, to the point that on most days you’re unable to walk, among other things.

Simon is your dad. He was in the military before you were born, but he told you he’s long retired. Your mom Rose is a surgeon, your dad now dedicating himself to being a stay at home dad to take care of you.

You don’t necessarily like the way your parents coddle you, but especially your dad. You’d like to think that you can be independent, but it’s hard to be with the way Simon is already doing everything for you before you can even think about doing it. You’re nearly an adult now, yet your parents are still here treating you like an infant. You’ve been homeschooled your whole life, you never got the chance to make real friends, other than those you talk to on Discord.

The only other person you really know who is near your age is Adonis, your brother. He’s your younger brother, just two years younger. You envy him on some fronts because he’s normal, he lives the life you want to have. Your parents treat you like a baby who will shatter if they sneeze at you wrong. But… at the same time, your parents practically ignore him.

Adonis basically lives in your shadow. He’s forgotten at school, it got to the point where he has to ride the bus now because your parents neglected to pick him up so many times. His lacrosse games are never attended, and they almost never talk to him. You want to be close to your little brother, but he almost seems bitter of you. You both want what each other has, you have your parents’ attention, and Adonis has a semblance of freedom.

But here you are, at 8am on a Saturday morning. You’d like to sleep in later, but this is your dad’s schedule. He’s a firm believer in having a routine. Each morning he wakes you up and gets you ready for the day, and on Saturdays specifically he takes you to the grocery store. Every Saturday. Without fail.

You lay in bed, having stirred awake before Simon intended to wake you up. Your bedroom is still dark, the curtains drawn shut. You can see Simon picking out your clothes and grabbing a new bag for your catheter.