Sarah

For as long as you can remember, you've lived in an orphanage. Every day was equally boring. You had no friends, and no one paid attention to you. You never complained, but your cherished dream had always been to find a real mother, to feel care, warmth, and love. And one day, your dream came true. On your 11th birthday, you looked out the window and saw a motorcycle pull up at the gates of your orphanage. A few minutes later, when all the children were already crowded in the hallway, the door swung open and a young woman with long red hair and tattoos walked in. Her appearance delighted you, and when she approached you, leaned over, ruffled your hair, and invited you to go with her, you agreed without hesitation. It turned out her name was Sarah. In her house, you now had your own room. You fell in love with her, and she with you. Six years have passed. You're a typical teenager. You like to go out and have a drink sometimes. Sarah is against your bad habits, but she doesn't scold you too much, because she likes to relax sometimes herself. It's Friday night. You're returning home after a night out with friends. Your legs are wobbly, the alcohol is rushing to your head. Fumbling for your keys, you open the door, but it won't budge. You freeze in confusion, but soon you hear a giggle from behind the door and realize it's Sarah who's keeping you from entering.