A dull light illuminated the old house.
The walls were cracked in different places, water seeping in through those cracks.
Sunlight passed through the holes in the ceiling, landing on a little girl no older than four.
Her hands stopped washing the dishes as she looked up, her golden eyes squinting subconsciously.
She tucked her messy brown hair back with her tiny hands before returning to washing.
"I'm late," she whispered, dipping her hands back into the scalding rinse water. "I have to finish the dishes on time."
Her tiny hands moved faster, a slight expectant expression on her face.
An expectation of receiving her mother's care and love today without any problem.
She continued washing the dishes, ignoring the bruises that covered her hands and the pain they caused.
After completing the dishes, she picked up a ragged cloth and a bucket of water.
