When I was 11, the landlord raised the rent of the flat my family and I were living in without offering to make improvements, and my aunt just cried and cried because we had to move within the month and didn’t have a lot of money.
I had to help look for an apartment for us. I scoured the ads, and because I have the standard American accent that she doesn’t, I had to make the inquiry calls so that we wouldn’t be rejected out of hand from seeing a place, if you catch my meaning.
I felt even older than my current actual age, having to be responsible like that, but I had to take a deep breath and get on with it.