She tried to be optimistic, to always look on the brighter side of life but the world made it so goddamn hard.
At 15, Liz had been beaten down by life more times than she could count, which wasn’t very high considering the very little education she’d had.
Liz had to leave school to look after her mentally unwell mother. Making sure she washed and dressed, ate and took her medications. Limiting her access to the outside world incase a break down ensued. Liz had taken over all the worrying over money, the trying to get enough food in the house for everyone and getting the younger kids to do their homework and get to school on time.
All while her mother muttered darkly to herself, trapped in her own nightmare and her father drank himself into oblivion before leaving them all, again, without a word, on another long haul drive- “Just trying to make a living ya selfish bitch” he snapped when she complained about having to do it all alone.
Still the eternal optimist, she drank her tea from her favourite mug and concentrated on the twins playing in the mud, ignoring her mother screaming into a pillow, ignoring the fact that she didn’t know when her father would be back and what state he’d be in when he finally turned up.
She took another sip and dreamed of a better world.