The House

Hold Me Tight

Fuel is needed to keep functioning. To be able to run efficiently. Move efficiently. To deprive the tool that needs it,  you don't expect it to work and run how you need it. So why do you expect me too? I can't think. I can't function.

                                                                                          ******

      My family is above poor but we are not close to being rich either. With that being the case, I'm rich in my heart. My enjoyment. I don't let that stop me from enjoying everything and everyday to its fullest because its more to life than money. Like food for example.

      I was laughing around with my close friend Park Jimin. We were walking home from school and joking around. I pushed him in the shoulder after laughing at what he was saying. He's a unique person. I became friends with him when he moved here a year ago. He came with some issues that caused him to moved but he didn't want to talk about it. Of course, I wasn't gonna push him about it till he's comfortable enough. All I know is that he goes to therapy just about every Thursday after school.

      Jimin stumbled from my shove and almost fell over, but he quickly regained his balance and shot me a playful glare. "Hey, watch it!" he exclaimed, chuckling. I grinned mischievously before breaking into a sprint, knowing Jimin would chase after me. The two of us raced down the quiet street, our laughter filling the evening air as we enjoyed our carefree youth. As we reached the familiar corner where we would part ways, I slowed down to catch my breath. I could feel my cheeks flushed from excitement.

      Jimin finally caught up, panting heavily but smiling from ear to ear. "You're too fast, Jin," he gasped out between breaths. I just shrugged nonchalantly, my eyes sparkling with mirth. "I've always been the fastest in our group," I teased, earning a playful shove from Jimin. We said our goodbyes and went our separate ways, looking forward to another day filled with adventures and laughter in our small but humble neighborhood.

      The sun had begun its descent, casting a warm golden glow over the quiet neighborhood. I quickened my pace as I approached the familiar sight of my family's small home at the end of the street. As I entered the modest living room, I was greeted by the comforting aroma of my mother's cooking and the sound of my of older sibling yelling on the game.

      I smiled fondly at the way my home was, feeling grateful for the simple joys that filled their home. My father was sitting at the table, poring over some papers with a furrowed brow. I sighed as I watched. I knew that times had been tough for our family lately, but my father always did his best to provide for them. I quietly joined my father at the table, offering to help in any way that I could. My father looked up, his tired eyes softening at the sight of me sitting.

      With a small smile, he handed me stack of papers and said, "Let's work on this together, son." And as we sat side by side, pouring over the numbers and calculations, I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride and love for my family. Despite my age, I had to grow up quickly and to help in anyway that I can without dropping out of school. Even with their struggles, we were always there for each other, supporting and lifting one another up.