Gunther wasn’t born to a rich family. He never had that kind of luck.

He’d always envied his friends who had it better. They’d have packed lunches, brand new school supplies, clothes that always seemed to fit just right… Mom didn’t even have time to pick him up after school.

It’d always felt like he was different.

Mom was always working. He knew she had to, but it didn’t help that school was always just a comparison game. Everyone had something to brag about, and it always felt like he was being left behind. He’d done his best to tolerate it, but eventually, it hit a boiling point…

The concrete floor met his eyes. The cold, barely insulated room that they had been renting out was just warm enough for them to get through winter.

They would often have to resort to some makeshift fireplace, using a hand-crafted ventilation system that Mom had created out of thin sheet metal and cardboard. It was just sealed enough to send the smoke out their singular window without them dying from suffocation. He had fainted several times from the carbon monoxide poisoning, barely making it out alive because of his mom, but it was either that or frostbite.

“Mom…” Gunther still couldn’t look up; he was so ashamed.

Mom had always starved for breakfast and dinner. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that. She would make excuses like, “I’m not hungry,” but he started to realize something was different when all he saw around him were gluttons.

When he happened to be invited to a friend’s sleepover, he’d seen an entire extended family at the dining room table stuffing food down their throats like he’d never seen before.

Everyone was eating. Everyone was gorging down on steaks, pork chops, fried chicken, happily oblivious to the value of food, to how difficult it was for his mom to make enough for a single meal. He couldn’t believe it when his friend also fed the family dog the same, high-quality steak that was served on the table. He couldn’t believe any of it…

“What is it, Gunther?” Mom asked.

“Can you…” Maybe he didn’t have to do this? No, but he wanted it. He needed it! Why couldn’t he have what everyone else had for granted? Why couldn’t he have it just for once? It didn’t have to be every day. He just wanted to experience what it felt like to be normal. He didn’t want to be an outcast all the time. Just once, and he’d be satisfied. Just once—

“Gunther?” Mom stared with that worried look. She always made that face when she was worried. Why? She should worry about herself more. Why did she worry so much?

He was capable. He didn’t lack in anything other than money. He was sociable, smart, athletic. He did everything with perfection. He performed to the highest degree, but why did it always seem like she was worried he’d make a mistake?

“Gunther, you can tell me.” She gently coerced him with those lies. He knew she couldn’t do everything, but it didn’t help that she always kept her word.

He was so proud to have her as his mom. As he grew older—even though he was still just barely thirteen—he realized how much she’d done throughout his life. Dad was gone, so she’d burdened herself with work. He wanted so much to help, to make her proud. He wanted to make sure of it too by working with her, but she’d always told him that his job was to be a student. If he succeeded in life, she’d said that that was all she ever wanted from him.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Gunther took a deep breath and steeled himself. He was going to say it. Mom wasn’t someone who’d drop it even if he told her not to worry.

“Can you… pack me lunch tomorrow?”

“Lunch?” She seemed to think for a long while. “Didn’t I already give you lunch money? Isn’t that enough?”

“Well, yes. It’s enough. It’s just that everyone else is bringing a packed lunch so…”

“You can make it yourself, you know.”

“Well, I can… But it’s not the same thing.”

“It’s not?” She paused again. Gunther waited patiently for a positive response. “Oh, okay.” Her response was short. “I see what you mean now.”

“Is that… a yes?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really?” On one hand, she’d always listened to his requests since he didn’t have many to begin with, but on the other hand, she’d always shot down superficial requests like these in the past. They weren’t necessarily living the life. They didn’t have enough to afford even the smallest of luxuries.

“Of course. I’d do that for my sweet, little baby—”

“Stop, mom. That’s embarrassing!”

“Aww, nobody’s here. It’s fine.”

“Okay…” He tried to calm himself down, but he couldn’t help it. Deep down, he was shouting celebrations. For the first time, he was looking forward to going to school. “So you’ll pack me lunch tomorrow?”

“No, every day,” she replied, coolly. As if she just said the most common sensical thing in the world.

“Every day?” That was too much. How would they ever afford something like that? “You don’t have to—”

“Stop worrying about me, Gunther. That’s my job as a parent. Not yours.” She shook her head. “Enjoy your youth. Stop trying to act like a grown up already. You’re going to miss being a kid.”

“But—”

“No buts,” she commanded. Then her voice softened a bit, a slight smile hugged her face. “I’m going to die so young without actually having lived. You don’t need to experience that too.”

She looked so tired, so worn out from all the work she’d been putting herself up to. That wasn’t something he’d wanted to see happen from this conversation taking place. It was because of this that he’d been holding himself back from making any of these requests.

He didn’t want this.

He was going to change it. All of it. He had to vow to give her life back. Whether it be through the newly popularized studies of cybernetics or even plain, old business, he’d find a way to make money. Large and large amounts of it. He’d do anything to rid himself of this guilt, anything to make her proud.

Why, when everyone else was having the time of their lives, did they have to suffer like this? Why did Mom have to work? Why couldn’t she retire like the rest? Why didn’t they have it all—a perfect family or anything for that matter?

Why was life so unfair?

He never understood it—life. He never really got what it meant to live. His mom was living, alright. But if this was what it meant to be alive, why live in the first place? Why suffer when he could just end it all with a single knife through the chest? She was working herself to the bone, to her inevitable death, and all he could do was watch.

It was just so wrong.

If he’d died, she’d have one less mouth to feed. He’d always thought about it—suicide. It would sometimes even visit him in his dreams—not nightmares—beautiful, blissful dreams. The only reason he’d never commit was because of the fact that if he did die, Mom would never stop beating herself up for it. She’d suffer more. So until Mom was living a life that she deserved, he would stay alive and fight for their rights to a plentiful life.

He would make her proud. He would give her the happiness that she’d always wanted and finally make her sad smile mean something more than just the bare minimum.

That was his one and only goal.