As always, thanks and hugs to my amazing beta bookreader525! ^^

Rosita loves to sing. She sings in the shower, she sings while working, she sings whenever she can. Singing makes everything better, easier.

And she's good. Everyone knows. Everyone in her family, that is. Even though her piglets and especially Casper make fun of her sometimes. But that's okay. They don't mean it in a bad way. They are young, and sometimes, they just don't know what to do with their energy. It makes them say and do stupid things. Like climbing on the table and making fun of her. It's okay. It doesn't hurt much.

Norman knows that she's a good singer. Or so she thought.

Oh, yeah, you were great, honey.

Were. Past tense.

As in, back at college, she was great. When she and Norman spent every weekend at the Karaoke bar close to campus and Rosita was singing for hours until she just couldn't go anymore. They always cleared the stage for her as soon as she entered the bar. And then she started singing and kept singing until her mouth was dry and she needed a drink and little break. It was amazing.

And then she and Norman graduated and got married. Finding a great job was next on her list, but she got pregnant before that. She remembers the joy and the fear she felt at the same time when she found out. And then it turned into more fear than joy when she found out she was going to have thirteen babies. Thirteen! At least, she isn't superstitious or something, because thirteen-lets! Or whatever the right name is. She never checked. She managed to keep the fear at bay, and it was singing that helped her. She sang whenever panic threatened to take over. The doctors told her that having so many babies wasn't unusual for a pig. It was for her, though. But she managed. And so did Norman. He looked for a job, a job he didn't like and still doesn't like, but a job nonetheless. And a job that brought enough money. He was taking responsibility, and so did she.

And she did it again when soon after the thirteen-lets were born she got pregnant again. Twelve babies this time. Or twelve-lets or whatever. Again, she managed, somehow. But it was harder than before. Much harder. Norman's boss felt sympathetic, though, and let Norman take annual holiday at once. It was okay. With twenty-five babies, they didn't have time for vacation anyway. It was easier when Norman was around, but even this very long holiday way over at some point and Rosita was alone with twenty-five babies. What made it even harder was that to show his boss that he was entitled - and because they needed the money - Norman took every chance to work overtime. And so Rosita found herself alone a lot with the babies. Sometimes, she thought she was losing her mind. And when this happened she started singing. Sometimes, it was more like humming to herself. But it helped. Singing always helped. It still does.

But when Norman reminded her that her singing days were over, it made her sad. Really sad. That was when she took over her post at the window and turned on the music a little louder. She only managed to move when it was time to say goodbye to her piglets when they left for school. And then she moved back to the window and turned the music on even louder.

And she's still here. She just can't get herself to move. And for a long time in ages, she doesn't feel like singing. She just feels like standing there, her arms folded on the windowsill, her chin resting on her arms, looking into the distance, and listening to the radio. She can feel the tears prickle in her eyes, but she doesn't care.

She never wanted to be a professional singer, she just wants to sing. And all she's asking for is a little appreciation for it from her family. That's not much to ask for, right? That her family enjoys to hear her sing as much as she enjoys singing. That's the only little thing she's asking for herself. And that's okay, right? She's allowed to ask for something just for herself, right?

Rosita lets out a long sigh. It doesn't matter now. She's trifled away enough time already. She'll have to work way past midnight anyway if she wants to get all the housework done. She'd better get started now or it would take even longer.

She forcefully wipes over her eyes with the back of her hand, brushing away the tears that never managed to fall.

The piglets are already fast asleep for at least half an hour, but she hasn't even made it halfway through the pile of dirty dishes. And the fact that Catherine called ten minutes ago doesn't help to make her work any faster. She isn't really listening, though. Catherine is just telling one of her stories again, and all of Catherine's stories are just about Catherine talking. She doesn't want replies, she just wants someone to listen and mumble approvingly, so that's what Rosita does with her phone tucked between her ear and her shoulder while doing the dishes. She mumbles and Catherine talks.

And then, suddenly, there's something at the window, something yellow, and it's hard to miss. So Rosita looks at it. It's a flyer, and there's something written on it. Rosita has to tilt her head a little to be able to read all the words.

One-hundred thousand dollars for a singing competition? So much money, it would be enough that they could move into a bigger apartment, and that she could send all her piglets to college. And making all that money with her singing? That's amazing! She can do something she loves and get money for it! Money for her family!

It all clicks together in her brain, and she straightens herself, her eyes wide with joy and a big smile on her face.

She barely notices the splashing sound when her phone falls into the sink.