This is a story about a girl struggling to make a living and keep her house from being sold.
That was it. The last straw. My father was gone, my mother in ruins, my twin brothers fatally sick, and my home about to be sold. What else could go wrong in my life?
On that fateful day, no signs told me what was about to happen. It was a perfectly normal day, and like usual, I opened the door to my house expecting to smell mum's cooking and the clanging and banging of pots and pans.
The scene that greeted my eyes was an unexpected one. There was a crowd of people, all standing in my kitchen, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at a corner.
Immediately, I went to see the source of the disturbance. I expected to see the twins lying side by side, their arms draped around each other lifelessly, so it gave me a shock when one of them rushed towards me, his eyes red with crying.
“Wha-What?” I said, speechless. “You are alive?”
For a moment the twin looked curious, but just for a moment. Then his face was grief-stricken and shocked again. “It's not us, Emma. Oh, it's worse!” his nose was runny and red from blowing far too many times.
Impulsively, I used my apron to wipe his nose and was reaching for a proper handkerchief when it hit me. My brother was crying!
“What is it, Alexander? What could be so bad that it made you cry?”
“Oh, Emma!” he started crying again.
“You're ill,” I said firmly, “and you have no business to be wandering around like this. Now go back to bed.” And, upon seeing his defiant face, I pleaded; “Please?”
“But you don't understand, Emma. Mother just died!”