3. Jessica

I return from work, a bag of fruits in hand and my head pounding. Knocking on the door, I wait till Emma opens it. A smile lights up her face when she sees me and she immediately grabs the bag from my hand, ushering me in.

"Welcome back." She greets me, her voice cheerful as always.

"Thanks," I mumble.

"I bought fruits, do you mind making a salad out of it?" I ask her. She nods and immediately goes to the kitchen to wash them, cutting them up.

I trudge to the couch in the living room, collapsing on it like a bag of potatoes. I'm more than exhausted. Emma comes to sit beside me, dragging a chair from the kitchen, two bowls of fruit salad in her hands.

"So, how was work?" She asks, passing me a bowl of salad as she sits down. I collect it from her and with very little appetite, begin to eat.

"Fine. How was school?"

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "it's only the first day of school, and I already have so many assignments! Can't these teachers catch a break!?" She groans, slumping on the chair. A smile hit my lips and I let out a breath. I wish I had her problems.

"You'll be fine, right?" I ask her and she smiles at me.

"Of course, I'm just venting." She says and we start to eat. Then pauses. "How was work though? You look exhausted."

"Everyone's been saying that to me lately," I murmur, shoving more salad into my mouth.

"Well, it's because it's true." She drops her bowl down, regarding me with careful eyes. "You know, I can help too..." she begins hesitantly, her voice low. "After school I mean, I could get a job and help..."

"No, you won't." I cut her off, my voice firm. She stiffens.

"But..!" She starts protesting but I quickly shut her up.

"I know you can help, I just don't want you to. It's your final year of high school Emma, very soon you'll start writing all of these exams. Now is not the time. Focus on that, let me worry about the money."

She huffs, clearly disgruntled. Honestly, I don't care. I stand up, kissing her forehead. "I'll see if I can lie down for a little while. Don't stay up too late and forget to use your meds." I mutter before ambling toward the room.

Dropping on the bed, the weight of my responsibilities falls on me and I shudder. We would be getting kicked out soon and I haven't told Emma yet. I could beg the landlord for more time but I'm already tired of pleading. It's not like he'll listen anyway. His patience has run dry. I'm not expecting to be paid until the end of the week and even that won't cover anything. I groan, the pounding in my head getting worse. I just want to run away.

Or kill yourself. Not today Satan. Not today.

My phone rings and I pick it up, seeing it's Sophie. Forcing all of my discomfort to the bottom of my shoes, I pick up the phone and place it on my ears. "Hey," I call out. "How are you?"  The other side is silent for a while until a feeble voice replies, "Fine."

I bolt upright, alarmed. "Are you sure, you don't sound it?"

 A sniffle. My stomach sinks, dread crawling up my skin. "Well..." She starts, her voice breaking.

"Why didn't you call? I was worried about you!"

"I'm sorry, I got caught up. You know, a new semester and all..." She says.

 "What happened?"

 "I-i was fired." She announces, her voice barely audible. But I hear her alright and my stomach does a backflip and I suddenly feel the urge to throw up my salad. Still, I swallow it down and continue calmly.

 "Why?"

"My Boss kept harassing me and when I refused, he fired me."

Oh, so she has a valid reason. So why is she crying?! "Are you alright now? Is everything okay over there, is there anything I can do to help?"

"I guess. I'm trying to get a new job that'll fit my schedule." She lets out a breath and I can just see her shaking. "It's hard."

I feel like there's more. "You might as well just tell me everything now," I say, ignoring the voices in my head screaming at me to stop. "Have you eaten?"

"No, I'm a bit broke now. My rent's due so I'm cutting all of my expenses."

Ha. Nailed it. It only gets better from here on. "I don't need you to help me." Sophie continues. "I only called you won't worry. I'll try to find something to do that'll pay me for a little while."

As if. You live in New York.

"How is everything back there?" Sophie asks in an attempt to change the topic.

Oh, everything is just awful. We're about to get evicted. Instead, I say, "Everything's fine. Emma is in her final year of high school."

"Really?" Sophie sounds surprised.

"Yeah," I answer, chuckling.

"When did she grow up? It feels like yesterday when she was just a little girl, crying and calling you mom. Even if you hated it."

  

"Yeah." I HATED that time. But nobody needs to know that, not even Emma.

"Thanks for calling. If I have anything, I'll be sure to send it to you." I tell her. I hear her sigh. "Find something to eat, don't worry so much. Everything will be fine."

"Okay," she mutters. We talk a bit more and soon bid our goodbyes. Once the call ends, I fall back to bed, feeling lost. We'll soon get kicked out of this apartment, Sophie got fired and her rent is due, Life couldn't get more perfect.

My exhaustion forgotten, and I start to rack my head for things I can do to earn just enough to solve my immediate problems. Nothing comes to mind. It's either I don't have the qualifications or it's too dangerous. I stand up from my bed, pacing around the room, my hands buried in my hair. Stifling a scream, I walk to my wardrobe and fling it open, my heart racing.

My eyes search and find a box hidden behind racks of clothing. It contains a portion of my life that I've locked away, swearing never to open again after what it took from me, my sanity being one of them. Going down on my knees, I bring it out, placing it before me. Almost instantly, my hands start to shake and I feel pathetic.

But I'm so desperate now. I can't let what I've been building and protecting for the past fifteen years crumble and fade away. I'll be damned if it happens. I close my eyes against all of the painful memories, thinking about only my sisters. They need me, I'm doing this for them.

   

Chanting it like a mantra over and over again, I finally summon enough courage to open the box. That's when my phone dings. I jump, running over to pick it up, more than grateful for the interruption. Thinking it's a call from Sophie, I make to pick it up when I realize it's an e-mail. Confused, I click on it and the message immediately opens.

Application approved.

It reads. I stare at it for the longest time, wondering what it meant. Then I remember the stuff I'd done earlier today and I stiffen, surprised.

This is a joke, right?

****

No, love. It's not.

QOTD: What do you think is in that box?!!

Thanks for reading! See you in the next chapter!?