This is a simple text. But not for outsiders. For their own. If they are. And they are. Or they pretend that they are their own. But they do well. A sense of responsibility and duty prevails over everything. You feel so necessary, necessary. For the time being.

I am 25 years old. I have a simple name. I have a simple life. The most common. Mom once was unable to have an abortion. Not that she didn't want me. Not. Let's just say: she did not plan for me. However, like all young girls. For my father, she left because this big man, after three years of fear, said: you will use me and leave. There was a wedding.

Then I appeared. And mom broke life. She says so. But I understand her and do not take offense. A child is a renunciation of everything. In any case, for a woman.

Then my father fell in love with the restaurant manager and left. We were left alone.

Then stepfather appeared. Strange type. And his family is strange. Mom gave birth to my brother. Pretty Clever. My brother wrote novels at the age of five. I washed the diaper and was very necessary.

Stepfather fell in love with the head of the cardiology department of the huge center and left. Mom slept for three months. I did repairs in the apartment, took my brother to kindergarten and studied. I was 12 years old.

Brother started taking drugs. I pulled him out of the basements and loved him. I love him now.

Then I went to college. Not as cool as Mom's. As she said: sharashkina office. They didn't teach me anything there.

I began to work. I bought drugs for my brother, food and clothes for the family.

Then I found the time and energy to fall in love. I was 22 years old. I broke up with this first boy in two weeks.

I worked. Once a month I took a man in a bar and went to him. No relationships, passions, novels. Then I almost got married. In time I came to my senses.

Now I have a lot of relatives. They all want to live well. I help them. Brother to study in a paid university, good, better than mine.

I fell in love. In a married man with two children. He does not love me. For him, I vest and bedding. I had my first abortion. And I want a baby.

I hate myself. I'm tired. I want to leave. But I have many relatives, many responsibilities. I must. Much and much.

I live on. But I have long been there in the abyss. I can go there and come back. At night. It's quiet there and I owe nothing to anyone.

I am 25 years old. I have a simple name. Simple life. The most common.

And, in my opinion, I'm happy.