Arthur went to his new job. On his way to the place he would start working, he thought,
"A construction laborer? I don't know if I can do it." He was so stressed, but he couldn't give up, not before trying. After he saw his mother tired, he knew there was no other choice.
He slapped himself. "Those shitty thoughts won't help me. Look at the bright side: you found a job that isn't so bad." He thought for a second. "Uh... at least they pay a little more than the other jobs... right?"
After he finally arrived at the construction site, he looked left and right. He saw that all the workers didn't care about him—at least not as much as yesterday. He walked up to the boss and asked, "Good morning, sir. So what am I going to do?"
The boss responded, "You see, we don't have that many workers for a huge building like this one." He pointed to the building.
The building was 40 meters in length and 30 meters in width, with 5 floors already built.
"That's why I needed new workers. Even though we need experienced ones—experience helps with a lot of positions. Anyway..." He pointed to the heavy materials. "For now, go move the cement and the bricks to that machine. The worker on the fifth floor will receive it. Take it easy."
The boss was nice and patient. Because of that, Arthur didn't feel as stressed as before, even though he saw there was a lot to do—and a lot of heavy things to carry.
Arthur thanked the boss and headed to the cement first. He started taking it to the machine, one by one.
Every step Arthur took felt like a whole mile. Every step made his arms scream, and his legs were almost ready to give up. But Arthur had no other choice. He couldn't give up—there was no such thing as giving up.
When it was finally time for lunch, Arthur went to the nearest restaurant. Too bad—it was closed.
"NOOO..." he screamed. He really wanted that big sandwich with turkey meat and cheese, with some onions. Just imagining that heavenly sandwich made Arthur even more starving.
"F*ck it. I didn't want to waste money on that awesome, tasty, great restaurant anyway," he muttered. He headed to the nearest shop. Every step made him hungrier and more sad. No—it was straight-up depression.
He bought a cup of instant noodles and a cheap sandwich. "Better than nothing, of course." He headed back to the construction site and started eating.
One of the workers joined him. He took a seat nearby. He was a middle-aged man, his bulky body impossible to ignore.
"Hey, kid."
"Yes—" Arthur choked on the sandwich. After some coughing and the man's help, he finally spoke again.
"Yes..." Arthur felt embarrassed after the awkward moment.
"Why did you decide to work here?" the man asked.
"Huh?" Arthur looked at him. "Of course it's because I need money."
"Oh, excuse me—I meant, why do you need that money?" the man asked. He seemed genuinely interested.
"So..." Arthur felt a little uncomfortable, but he wanted to answer. He felt like he might feel better if he said it. The pain in his chest might ease just a little.
"I need money so I can help my mom pay the rent. She works so hard for me. I want her to get some rest..." His mother's image came to mind—crying for her husband.
"That's why I'm here."
The man looked at Arthur. Something had clearly popped into his mind—probably something sad.
"Alright, kid. Cheer up. You can't be sad while you work. That's not how we do things here." He slapped Arthur's back playfully.
"Alright, back to work. My name's Raul. What's yours, kid?"
"My name is Arthur. Arthur Cain." Arthur stood up and headed back to work.
Finally, at 5 PM, it was time to go home. Raul said goodbye to Arthur, and Arthur went home. He was so tired that he slept until almost morning.
He checked his phone—it was 3 AM. "Wait, 3 AM?" He hadn't expected to sleep that much. He tried to go back to sleep but couldn't.
"F*ck, I think I'll just go to the roof." He really liked the rooftop. It was the only place he could find peace. He brought his book with him and started reading. He was so into the novel that he forgot about the time.
"Wow, it's already 6 AM. This novel really eats up my time, huh?" He went downstairs, got ready, and headed to work.
The rest of the week followed the same pattern—sleep, eat, work, read, repeat. But Arthur noticed something. The other workers were friendlier. They even treated him like their little brother.
The landlord returned, but they had finally managed to pay the two months of rent they'd been struggling with—thanks to Arthur and the items they had sold.
Arthur got ready, as always, and went to work. Now Arthur was a man—fighting for his family, carrying responsibilities. For the first time in a long while, Arthur felt capable.
"Let's get to work."
Meanwhile...
His mother held the family photo tightly as she coughed. Blood came from her mouth. She noticed the blood was bright this time. She didn't want to tell Arthur. How could she? He was already carrying so much.
Elena changed her clothes and tried to clean the blood from her cuff. She didn't want Arthur to worry—not after he finally had some peace. She thought it wasn't a big deal. She was just getting older. At least, that's what she told herself.
Arthur came home from work, tired as usual. He noticed his mom still wasn't home, so he went to shower and then straight to bed.
He woke up and checked on his mother before going to the rooftop.
As he approached her room, he heard coughing—loud and harsh.
Arthur entered and saw what he dreaded: his mom was awake, pale, tired-eyed, her hand covered in blood.
Arthur panicked—but he hid it. He didn't want his mom to feel she couldn't share her pain with him.
He rushed to her and gently took her hand. "It's okay, Mom. You'll be okay."
He picked up his phone and ordered an Uber. His mother tried to stop him. "Hey, son, it's okay. I feel better now."
Deep down, Arthur wanted to scream. He wanted to pour out his fear and heartbreak. But he couldn't.
"Mom, the Uber is coming. Don't worry. You're more important than money, Mom. Please—" He almost cried but swallowed it down. "—Please tell me when something like this happens. I don't want to lose anyone else."
Elena understood exactly what her son meant. She pulled his head to her chest. "Sorry."
Arthur felt safe—quietly grateful. The silence was loud. Then he pulled away.
"Mom... thank you." He looked at her bloody sleeve. "Alright. I'll wait outside."
After she changed, she joined him. They got in the car and headed to the hospital. After some minutes, they arrived.
While waiting, Arthur asked, "When did it start? Do you feel pain? Are you eating enough?"
She answered every question with a smile. She was happy—but a little sad too. He had been out of school for over a week.
"Son, promise me you'll return to school when this is all over."
Arthur didn't respond. He remembered the bullying. The way they talked about him and his family.
He just smiled. But he didn't promise.
Finally, it was their turn. Elena tried to go in alone, but Arthur insisted, and they entered together.
After examining her, the doctor said, "Don't worry. It's not a big deal—not something that'll threaten your life."
Arthur was relieved.
"It's called bronchitis. Basically, the tubes in the lungs are inflamed."
Arthur's heart sank a little again. Tubes? Lungs? It still sounded serious.
"You just need rest," the doctor said proudly. "And I'll give you some medicine. Take it for at least a month, and you'll be fine."
Arthur helped his mom get up—even though she could. That word "rest" stuck in his head.
They took an Uber to the pharmacy, bought the medicine, and returned home. Luckily, it wasn't too expensive.