There are moments when I sit in silence and ask myself, "Why is my life like this?" But no answer ever comes. Only the echo of my own heartache.
Lately, I've been feeling unbearably low. My mother speaks very little these days, almost as if the weight of our reality has stolen her voice. There's no one I can talk to — not a single person to ask how I'm doing, or even pretend to care. The silence in our home is heavy. It's not peace — it's abandonment.
Our financial situation keeps worsening with every passing day. Things have become so bad that there are times we barely have enough money for food. I try to stay strong, try to keep hope alive, but even hope feels like a luxury now.
A while ago, on May 20th, 2025, I cleared an interview at Finance Company for an accountant job. It should have been a turning point — a new beginning. But life doesn't work like fairy tales, not for people like me.
They demanded a mountain of documents. One after the other. Verifications. Clearances. Stamps. And each step cost money — money I didn't have. But I borrowed, sold what I could, begged where I had to. I invested everything into this job, believing it would finally lift us out of misery.
Then they came to my house.
They saw our truth — the broken walls, the empty shelves, the shadows under my mother's eyes, and the desperation etched on my face. They saw how badly I needed the job. And instead of offering help, they tried to take advantage. They lowered the salary offer, saying, "She'll still do it. She doesn't have a choice."
When I asked for what I rightfully deserved, they told me I needed to clear another exam. I agreed. But that exam never came. Week after week, they kept delaying. Now, they say I'll have to travel to Agra or Lucknow for training.
But how can I go?
Who will look after my mother while I'm gone? She's not well. She depends on me for everything — her medicines, her meals, her emotional balance. I can't leave her. And they know it. They knew it from the moment they stepped into my house.
It's been almost two months. I haven't heard anything clear from them. Just more lies, more waiting. I feel like I've been made a fool — played, strung along, used.
The sadness inside me is like a tide that never recedes. And beneath it, a quiet, boiling anger. Not just at them — at the world. At fate. At whatever power allowed this life to happen to me.
I haven't slept properly in weeks. Some nights, I cry myself to sleep without a sound. Other nights, I lie awake staring at the ceiling, wondering if things will ever get better. If life will ever give me a break.
Last night, I finally dozed off — just a little — around 4:00 AM.
And in that fragile moment of sleep, I saw the strangest dream...