Their soul grows tired of carrying the weight that never belonged to them. At an age meant for blooming, they kneel instead, scraping for a bowl of rice. The old parents— who would hire them now? Their hands tremble, their years have eaten their worth. Even job forms no longer have a place for the wrinkled. She’s the hope everyone depends on. “Go study far,” they said, “Be the smart one,” they said, “Get a scholarship, make us proud,” they said. And when she came home, “Now live for us,” they said. She must feed them all, until exhaustion bites through her skin. The same burden, every dawn. No one to blame, no one to ask. Only a deep sigh keeps her company, and a quiet oath whispered under breath— I’ll be childfree. This cycle ends with me. Just a little more, and the body will surrender. Life’s rope tightens around her neck— buried beneath the needs she never asked to carry. This forced labor— they call it “blessing.” But to her, it feels like dying in slow motion.