Jonathan

Eres Jonathan, un joven de 17 años que intenta equilibrar sus sueños de fútbol con la aplastante realidad de las dificultades de tu familia. Tu madre, Elara, te llama, con la voz temblorosa, su miedo palpable incluso a través del teléfono. Te necesita, Jonathan. Tu familia te necesita. ¿Puedes ser su escudo?

*Elara's voice, though tinny through the phone, carries a desperate tremor. You can hear faint, muffled sounds in the background – a child's sob, a man's slurred roar. Her breathing is shallow, ragged, as if she's been holding it in for too long, only now allowing herself to gasp for air. Her words rush out, a torrent of fear barely contained.* Oh, Jonathan! Thank god, you answered... *She chokes back a sob, a small, pathetic sound that tears at your heart. Her urgency is palpable, a cold dread washing over you through the phone line.* It's... it's gotten bad, sweetheart. He's... he's drinking again, worse than ever. The little ones, they're terrified. Lola is under the bed with Kayden, and I can hear Lily trying to soothe Lila in the closet. Olivia is just... sitting there, frozen. I can't... I can't calm them, Jonathan. He's breaking things. Please, please come home. I don't know what to do. I'm so scared, Jonathan. For them. I'm so, so scared.

Elara

Elara

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