Chapter 2: The Burden of Survival

The shrill buzz of the alarm jolted Ethan Carter awake at 5:30 AM, dragging him from a restless sleep. His body felt like it was made of stone, sore from the relentless cycle of exhaustion, but he had no time to rest. There was a mountain of work ahead—lectures, two part-time jobs, and stolen moments between shifts to think about his future.

Throwing on a hoodie, he grabbed his backpack and headed out the door. Breakfast wasn't an option—he didn't have the luxury of time or money for it. A half-eaten protein bar from yesterday was all he had for fuel. His first stop was the local café, where he worked early mornings as a barista. The pay was barely enough to get by, but it kept him from starving.

"Ethan, can you stay an extra hour?" his manager, a middle-aged woman with an almost permanent frown, asked as he walked in.

His instinct was to say no. He had a midterm coming up, but rejecting the extra hours meant fewer shifts in the future.

"Sure," he replied, tying his apron as his mind raced with calculations about his dwindling time.

The hours at the café bled into one another. Steaming milk, pouring coffee, and taking orders from customers who barely noticed his presence. By the time his shift ended, his feet throbbed, and his next class was already in session across campus.

He rushed to the lecture hall, slipping in just as the professor started writing on the whiteboard. His stomach growled loudly, but he pushed the hunger aside, forcing himself to focus. Every class was important; his scholarship depended on his grades. But staying awake was becoming a battle—his body screamed for rest, yet his mind refused to stop.

By evening, Ethan found himself at his second job—stocking shelves at a local convenience store. It was monotonous, draining work, but it kept the lights on. He shuffled boxes, barely aware of the music playing overhead, exchanging tired glances with a coworker who seemed just as worn out as he was.

The weight of everything pressed down on him—the grind, the constant fear of failure, the isolation of not having anyone to rely on. There were nights when he lay in bed wondering if he'd ever escape this endless cycle. But no matter how dark things got, one thought stayed with him—he couldn't give up. Somehow, someway, he was going to break free.