I don't know if this even counts as a confession, I mean it's not really a secret or anything. More like… a quiet hum that just won't stop. I think maybe I’m just really angry. Or sad. Or both. It’s about my parents, mostly. They came here, years ago, and it’s just always been… hard. They never really picked up the English here, not properly. I mean, they get by, for the day-to-day stuff, but anything official, anything important, that falls to me. Always has. I translate everything. Doctor’s appointments, bills, that whole mess with the property taxes last year, trying to explain to some government office why their names were spelled wrong on the deed. It’s exhausting. And the thing is, my siblings… they just don't. They live in town, just a few miles down the road, and it’s like they just don't even see it. Or they pretend not to. I brought it up once, casually, at Sunday dinner. Like, "Hey, maybe one of you could come with Mom and Dad to their next check-up? Just so I don't have to take another day off." And my sister, she just shrugged and said, "Oh, you're so good at it though! You explain things so well." And my brother just… stared at his plate. It’s always me. Always has been. I live further out, technically, than either of them. In a smaller house, a little bit of land, because that’s what I could afford after school. And yet, somehow, I’m the one who’s always there. For everything. It feels like they just assume I will be. And I do. I always do. And that’s where the anger comes in, I think. Because I don't want to. Not all the time. I love my parents, obviously, but sometimes I just want to… not. I want to have my own life, my own job, without having to drop everything because another letter came in the mail that they can't understand. I just started this new position, and it’s a lot, and I’m trying to make a good impression, but then there's always something. And no one else is stepping up. They never do. And I don’t know how to make them, or even if I should try. I mean I don’t even— whatever. It just feels like I’m stuck here, doing everyone else’s part, and no one cares. No one even notices, really. Except when something goes wrong. Then they notice.