**Chapter 2: Survival Mode**

Dinner was always the same. Aunt Sally at the head of the table, pretending she was this gracious caretaker, Sharona playing the role of the pampered princess, and me—the invisible servant. Tonight was no different. I quietly set the table while they chatted about things I didn't care about. Sally was talking about her book club, some gossip about the neighbor's new car, while Sharona complained about how the cheerleading team was "so unorganized" this year.

I sat down in my usual spot, keeping my head down and my mouth shut. The last thing I needed was to draw attention. If I was quiet enough, maybe I'd get through dinner without another verbal lashing. But I wasn't always that lucky.

"Are you failing chemistry again, Kathleen?" Sharona's voice cut through the chatter like a knife. Of course, she couldn't let a meal go by without taking a jab at me.

I clenched my fork. "No," I muttered. "I'm not failing."

"That's not what I heard," she said, her tone dripping with false concern. "Mrs. Taylor mentioned you were struggling with your grades. You know, it's really important to keep up, especially in senior year. You wouldn't want to ruin your future."

Ruin my future? As if I even had one, compared to her. Sharona didn't have to worry about things like grades. She had a full ride to whatever college she wanted lined up, a wealthy boyfriend, and a life filled with parties and popularity. Meanwhile, I was just trying to make it through another day.

"Leave her be, Sharona," Aunt Sally said, though there was no real defense in her voice. "She's just... doing her best." Her eyes flicked to me, that unspoken judgment hanging in the air. Her best, as if I wasn't already burning the candle at both ends trying to keep up with everything.

Dinner continued in uncomfortable silence, the tension thick enough to choke on. I didn't even taste the food. My mind was elsewhere, thinking about how I could scrape together more hours at the cafes or maybe find another tutoring gig to help with school. But how much more could I take on before I completely burned out?

After what felt like forever, dinner finally ended. I quickly gathered the plates and retreated to the kitchen to clean up. The clatter of dishes felt oddly comforting, a distraction from the mess of thoughts swirling in my head. As much as I hated it, the repetitive motion helped me calm down.

But just as I finished drying the last dish, Aunt Sally appeared in the doorway. "Kathleen, we need to talk."

Here we go. I set the dish down, turning to face her. "What about?"

She folded her arms, her face a mask of forced patience. "You've been slipping lately. You're barely keeping up with your schoolwork, and I don't think you're doing your part around the house. This is a critical time in your life, and you can't afford to slack off."

I bit the inside of my cheek, holding back the angry retort that bubbled up. Was she serious? I was practically running this household while holding down two jobs and trying to stay afloat in school, but nothing was ever good enough for her.

"I'm not slacking off," I said, keeping my voice even. "I'm doing everything I can."

Aunt Sally's eyes narrowed. "Don't take that tone with me, young lady. You're lucky I took you in after your mother abandoned you. If you don't step it up, you'll have nowhere to go. Do you understand me?"

Her words stung, but I didn't let it show. I was used to the guilt trips by now, used to being reminded that I was unwanted. "Yes, I understand," I said quietly, turning back to the sink to finish wiping down the counter.

"Good. And make sure Sharona's uniform is pressed for tomorrow." With that, she turned and left the kitchen, leaving me alone with the echo of her threat.

I stood there for a moment, staring down at the water swirling in the sink. The tight knot in my chest grew heavier with every passing second. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't leave, not yet. I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. If I ran, I'd be out on the streets. I didn't want to give Aunt Sally the satisfaction of seeing me fail, but some days... some days I felt like I couldn't keep going.

I wiped my hands on a towel and headed upstairs to my room, my mind racing. As I passed Sharona's room, I heard her on the phone, probably gossiping with her friends about whatever drama was going on at school. It was like we lived in two different worlds under the same roof. Her biggest problem was whether her hair looked good for practice, while I was barely holding it together.

I shut the door to my tiny room and sank down onto the bed. The walls felt like they were closing in on me, but I grabbed my notebook from under the bed again. This time, instead of flipping through the pages of plans and goals, I started writing furiously. I wrote about how much I hated this place, how trapped I felt. I wrote about the memories of my dad—how I missed him, how different things would have been if he were still alive. Writing was the only thing that helped me release the frustration without falling apart.

I didn't know how much longer I could keep this up, but I wasn't giving up. Not yet. There had to be a way out, even if I couldn't see it right now. I just had to survive long enough to find it.

---

As the night dragged on, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Sleep was elusive, my thoughts racing between the past and the uncertain future. I couldn't help but wonder if this was all my life would ever be—endless work, ungrateful relatives, and a constant struggle to keep my head above water.

But deep down, a tiny spark of hope still flickered. I wasn't going to let them break me. Not Aunt Sally, not Sharona, not anyone. One day, I'd get out of here. And when I did, I wouldn't just survive—I'd live.

The next morning, I forced myself out of bed before the sun rose. My body ached, not just from exhaustion but from the weight of everything I carried. Another day of school, another day of work, and another day of dodging Aunt Sally's disdain and Sharona's jabs. It felt like I was on autopilot, barely functioning, but there was no room for breaking down. Not here. Not now.

I moved quietly through the house, starting on the never-ending list of chores before anyone else woke up. The laundry, the dishes, packing lunches—it was all part of the routine. Sometimes I wondered if anyone even noticed how much I did. Maybe if I disappeared, they wouldn't realize until the dishes piled up or there was no clean laundry left.

As I finished pressing Sharona's cheerleading uniform—because God forbid she had to do it herself—I heard Aunt Sally calling from the kitchen.

"Kathleen, are you done with the breakfast?"

"Almost," I replied, flipping the last pancake onto a plate.

I set the table and stepped back just as Sharona waltzed in, fresh-faced and full of energy, her hair in perfect curls, her nails freshly manicured. I couldn't understand how someone could wake up every day and act like the world revolved around them, but Sharona did it effortlessly.

She glanced at me, barely acknowledging my presence before digging into her food. "So, did you do my uniform?"

"Yes," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. The last thing I needed was to give her an excuse to snap at me in front of Aunt Sally.

"Good," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, as if I were some invisible servant she could barely tolerate.

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and grabbed my backpack. I had to get out of the house before I lost it. School wasn't exactly an escape, but at least it was better than staying home.

---

The halls of Lincoln High were the same as always—crowded and noisy, filled with students trying to make their way to class or huddle into their social groups. I slipped through the crowd unnoticed, as usual, heading to my locker to grab my books.

"Hey, Kathleen."

I turned to see the only person who ever really noticed me—Alex, my lab partner in chemistry and the closest thing I had to a friend. He wasn't popular or a star athlete like most of the guys at school, but he was smart, kind, and always there when I needed someone to talk to.

"Hey," I said, giving him a tired smile.

"Rough morning?" he asked, noticing the dark circles under my eyes.

"Same as always," I said with a shrug, trying to brush it off like it didn't matter. "What about you?"

He hesitated for a moment, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "I heard Sharona's been talking about you again. Something about your grades."

Of course. Sharona couldn't go a single day without making me the topic of some conversation. "What else is new?" I muttered, slamming my locker shut.

Alex gave me a sympathetic look. "You know, you shouldn't listen to her. She's just..."

"A nightmare?" I finished for him, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled softly. "I was going to say 'insecure,' but sure, nightmare works too."

I appreciated his attempt to make me feel better, but it didn't change the reality. Sharona might be a nightmare, but she still had control over so much of my life, whether I liked it or not.

"Thanks, Alex," I said, giving him a small smile. "But I'm used to it."

"Just remember, you're not alone," he said, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before heading off to his next class.

His words stuck with me, even as I went through the motions of the school day. I wasn't alone, not entirely. But sometimes it felt like I was the only one truly fighting to survive.

---

After school, I headed straight to my first job at the café down the street. The warm scent of coffee and pastries greeted me as I walked through the door, and for a moment, I could almost forget about the chaos waiting for me at home. Almost.

"Kathleen, you're late," my boss, Maria, called from behind the counter, her usual no-nonsense tone in place.

"Sorry," I mumbled, tying my apron on as quickly as I could. "Had a lot going on."

"Don't we all," she replied, handing me a tray of orders to deliver. "Just keep up today, okay?"

I nodded and got to work, falling into the familiar rhythm of taking orders, refilling coffee, and clearing tables. It was exhausting, but at least here, people didn't expect anything from me beyond doing my job. There were no harsh words, no impossible expectations—just the straightforward task of getting through my shift.

By the time I finished my second job at the other café, the sun had long set, and exhaustion weighed heavily on my shoulders. I dragged myself back home, dreading whatever awaited me inside.

---

As soon as I opened the front door, I was greeted by Aunt Sally's shrill voice. "Where have you been?"

I glanced at the clock—barely after nine. "Work."

She scoffed, as if the concept of me having to work two jobs to pay for school was somehow my fault. "You're late again. This can't keep happening, Kathleen."

"I'm doing the best I can," I replied, feeling my patience fray.

"Well, it's not enough," she snapped. "You need to be here more. You're part of this household, and I won't tolerate laziness."

Laziness. That word hit like a punch to the gut. I was anything but lazy, but arguing with her would only make things worse. "I'll do better," I muttered, heading for the stairs.

"You better," she called after me. "Or you can find somewhere else to stay."

That was the real threat—the one she dangled over my head anytime she felt I wasn't doing enough. It didn't matter that I was breaking my back to keep everything together. She always found a way to remind me that I had no power here.

In my room, I collapsed onto the bed, too drained to even cry. I stared at the ceiling, my mind racing with thoughts of escape. There had to be a way out of this. There had to be a life beyond Aunt Sally's control, beyond Sharona's petty cruelty. I just had to survive long enough to find it.

And one day, I would. I didn't know when or how, but I knew this—nothing was going to stop me from getting out.

Not Aunt Sally, not Sharona, not even the weight of the past that threatened to crush me every day.