Gamolive

The summer of my eighteenth year, the air was filled with the scent of crude oil and hope.
My father ran a small company providing parts for the local oil fields, which was the engine of our family's future.
I just received my university admission notice and felt this was the next step in the business he built.
However, not long after, the oil fields began to dry up.
The global drop in oil prices and the cancellation of contracts caused the once busy workshop to fall into silence, with debts looming over us like shadows.
I once thought the solid world would collapse overnight.
The originally sweet taste of victory was taken away, replaced by a cold fear, mixed with the taste of metal and failure.