I just turned 20. And everyone is so proud of me. For getting into a good school, for working hard. My parents, their friends. All the aunties and uncles. They say I’m doing everything right. They don’t know. They have no idea. I remember being 12. My mom started working nights then. A lot of nights. So I cooked. Every night. For my three little sisters. And made sure their homework was done. Sometimes they’d complain about the food, or fight over something stupid, and I just had to fix it. Because there was no one else. Mom was sleeping during the day, or at the hospital. So it was me. Every single night. For years. I never really got to be a kid. Or a teenager. I just became… that person. Now I'm supposed to be like, living my best life. But I feel empty. All the time. Like a robot just doing what it’s supposed to do. I see other people my age, they talk about their childhoods, their parents doing stuff for them. I don’t have any of that. I don’t even know how to just… be. I keep waiting for someone to notice. To ask me what happened. But no one ever does.