294... or was it 297. At this point it doesn't really matter. She's gained and lost more than she cares to keep track of. Now, it sits on her frame like a death shroud, shifting and moving with every movement she's forced to endure.

That movement has become like a walk of shame every time she's asked to do it. Getting out of bed, sitting down, getting up again; they all require more energy, more motivation than she can muster. Not to mention the small human who depends on her for everything. Exhaustion is a constant, annoying, never-satisfied companion who just won't go away.

Still, she wakes every time her baby wakes and sleeps whenever she can manage a few winks. But no matter, exhaustion is always there.

She spends her birthday in the sweltering sun, hoping to sell baked goods she spent two nights making. And the heat is almost unbearable as she watches over the two of her children she brought with her. She smiles as they walk through the other vendor stalls, window shopping of sorts at all the interesting bits and bobs for sale.

Her older daughter brings her a beautiful little bowl a local artist created and the gift means more than she can put into words. She reminisces as the softball team across the aisle hawks frozen drinks and puts up $4 for her girls to each enjoy something cold and refreshing. Eventually they pack up and head home, the weight still pressing down like a ball and chain she'll never escape.

The morning dawns with the same oppressive heat, but what she doesn't know is that her life is about to change with one simple word.

"Hey mama," her child calls from somewhere in the house. "Come walking with me."

She contemplates a nice walk, despite the heat and shrugs. "Okay."

As she walks down the road, she feels the stares of others.

Their eyes seep into her soul, leaving her horrified.

Her child was too young, too pure to notice what's wrong.

She gazed down at the child, failing to notice the impending incident.

Her breath hitched as she bumped into a woman, she apologized heavily.

The other woman turned around, looking at the mother's face, her own face had a look of pity.

"Oh! It's alright! Mistakes happen. Who's this little cutie you have with you?" The woman smiled.

Utter silence occurred, the mother was nervous, but for another reason.

Her child walked closer to the opposing woman, waving happily.

She herself looked flustered and anxious.

The woman noticed, she smiled warmly, which only made the mother's flustered expression deepen.

"I'm Kenzie by the way, I heard you participate at the bake sales, no?" Kenzie asked, genuine curiosity.

"I'm Rachel! This is Ferra, my daughter. ... Yeah, I don't sell much at the bake sales, my presentation is judged before taste." Rachel muttered shyly.

Kenzie suddenly took out a piece of paper, writing down her phone number inside, placing the paper in Rachel's palm.

"I'm happy to hang out anytime, just call me!" Kenzie offered as she made her way across the street, waving goodbye.

Rachel put the note in her pocket, walking to her dingy home for the night.

Nighttime slowly closed in, tomorrow was the next bake sale, Rachel had nothing done.

She found the note again, her instincts tell her not to, but her heart says otherwise.

Kenzie had looked at her face, not her weight, at her face and her child's face.

Not the struggles that were clearly stated, her heart fluttered stronger.

Her heart took her to a pay phone just outside her place, dialing Kenzie's number, not knowing if it was to ask for bake sale help or for a feeling she couldn't describe.

The line rung, Kenzie picked up.