technoblade and meowbahh

The next morning, Sarah awoke with a start, she felt well rested but with how late she stayed up that couldn’t be right. Without having time to consider what she’d done last night she checked her phone, her eyes widening on seeing the time. She’d slept past all three alarms! Like a whirlwind she quickly got dressed, combed her hair and made herself somewhat presentable before stomping down the stairs, where she was surprised to see her dad.

She heard her dad rummage around the kitchen, cutlery clanked together, and the microwave hummed for a minute or so before he collapsed onto the couch with the bowl of leftover lasagne steaming in his hands. Like muscle memory, he quickly switched on the TV and started wolfing down the food like a starving man. Only after demolishing half the bowl of pasta, barely paying attention to the random game show playing softly in the background did he turn to his daughter and notice the look on her face.

“All I ever wanted was to change the world, to make it a better place where the weak wouldn’t be stepped on and enslaved, where freedom was a right instead of a privilege. I pushed myself, I struggled, I suffered, all for that goal, and survival is the best I could accomplish? If I have to focus only on survival, to be grateful just for staying alive, then how am I supposed to change anything? How am I any different from those who do nothing to fix this broken, corrupt reality?”