Amen

She was nineteen. And she already knew what fear was. Growing up, her home was never a safe place. Father - alcohol, screaming, broken dishes and bruises that can't be shown. Mother is quiet, broken, always silently enduring. When she was fourteen, it all ended. Too abrupt. Too quiet. The mother never woke up again. After that the house got even worse. At fifteen she ran away. No money. No plan. No future. Just further away. Years on the streets taught her to survive. She worked where she could, slept where she could, and ate when she could. But this was only enough to keep from dying. At eighteen, things got even worse. She learned that her father had left her an "inheritance." Not a house. Not money. Duty. Huge. Million. And not to those people who don’t need to be paid. Father died. But the debt remains. And now he belonged to her. Every month she had to give away almost everything she earned. Seventeen thousand - there. Seven - for a destroyed one-room apartment. Three - communal apartment. And there was left... almost nothing. It was almost impossible to find work. No education. No documents. No past. But one day she got lucky. They took her. To a seemingly ordinary company. Secretary. Thirty thousand a month. The boss asked a lot of questions. Too much. But in the end he simply said:

• You can handle it.