I told the truth (NUMEROUS TIMES) about the former foster mom using us as cleanup slaves for a sad low wage of $20/MONTH, that we STILL hardly ever got! I'm about to write a fiction story version of an over exaggerated & twisted version of an example scenario of what we used to have to endure every Saturday in the former foster care household. & I'm going to use fictitious names. (Mrs. Dorothy is the portrayal of the fake foster mom Adrienne Felder. I won't make myself a "twin" in this short story. It will be just random, unrelated foster kids. It would be as if the foster mom went to the most EXTREME!) Turning your past pain & traumas into present & future passion & purpose, right? Maybe I should write another short story later on, called "From Pain To Passion & Purpose".
I started working on this short story on 04/18/2023.
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It's early Saturday morning. @ 8 AM, our foster mom, Mrs. Dorothy, wakes us up. What a rude awakening for us, that she angrily snatches the covers off of us, & it's brutally cold! She's rich, but too cheap to keep the house warm. The bitter cold is too traumatizing for me to function. I was too tired & also too cold, so I got in trouble for falling back asleep.
Mrs. Dorothy lectured me & said, "Since you wanna be so SMART, you're gonna have to do EVERYBODY'S chores for the day. Do you hear me?"
Before I can respond back, she over talked me & yelled, "DO YOU HEAR ME!?"
I fought back tears & responded, "Yes, ma'am."
She said, "Alright! You know the drill. Now get my house cleaned! I want my house cleaned! I want this kitchen cleaned, dishes washed, rinsed, dried, & put up. I want these countertops & walls wiped down, the stove & refrigerator cleaned, the floors swept & mopped, & the trash taken out. I want the bathroom cleaned. I want this den cleaned. I want the furniture dusted & polished, windows cleaned, sofas straightened up. & everything better be spotless! I want this house IMMACULATE! Think I'm playing with you today! Now, you gotta clean EVERYBODY ELSE'S room, wash all of my cars, & clean the yard. Do you hear me? & I want my house cleaned by 2."
Mrs. Dorothy must've awakened on the wrong side of the bed this morning. This heffa expects for a 2-story, 9-bedroom, 5-bathroom house to be cleaned in less than 6 hours by only 1 person. Is she for real? Those expectations are pretty unreasonable, if you ask me! She usually forces us to go STRAIGHT to cleaning up. She wouldn't allow us to eat breakfast. The other foster siblings in the household didn't have to clean up, since they woke up obediently.
The foster brother, Craig, is the BIGGEST loyal ass-kisser because he was terrified of the punishments that we would receive. He was the BIGGEST, fakest, most loyal "spy & snitch" golden child puppet. Mrs. Dorothy stepped out to go grocery shopping for us 4 kids.
I started cleaning up the kitchen & washing dishes. Craig is an ASSHOLE of a spoiled brat. You know... the favorite, who can do NO wrong! This boy started trying to micromanage me, like as if we were on the job or something. Telling me stuff like, "You put too much dishwashing liquid in there. You didn't rinse the dishes all the way. You missed a spot. You forgot to put the rubber duckies & teddy bears away. You didn't mop the floor good enough."
Now mind you, this fool is the one who always has to go back & redo all of his chores because HE leaves food caked on all of the dishes. I'm the most known for cleaning everything the most thoroughly. I think he's jealous of that.
I finally had enough & gave him a piece of my mind. He threatened to tell on me. He started crying & said, "I'm goin' tell!"
I said, "So, what! I don't care! Go tell! What more trouble can I get into? Keep it up, & watch I'll make YOU do all of the work! Backseat driver! You can't even wash a fork, trying to tell somebody else how to mop the floor!"
He humbled himself, then. Afterwards, he went into his room, played victim & cried like a punk.
The other 2 foster siblings, Trinh & Hector, felt like Mrs. Dorothy was being too extreme. They hated the home & missed their biological family so much that they wished for us to be like a real family. They pitched in to help me, anyway. Hector was cleaning & moving really fast.
When Mrs. Dorothy got back from the grocery store, Craig told on us. Hector lied & defended me & Trinh. The lies didn't fly because the nosy neighbors across the street lied to Mrs. Dorothy & said that Hector was hanging from the magnolia tree upside down. They just wanted to get us in even MORE trouble because of them not liking us because of the foster care stigma. Because of that, we got NO allowance for 6 months. That cheesy, measly slave wage of $20/month! We always got the $20/month taken away from us, while Craig always got the allotted $37/month. Many times, our allowance was given to Craig.
We aged out of foster care. We knew it! Craig done sold his soul to the devil, in order to get a successful, high-paying job (where he could pretty much get paid DAMN good money, just to do nothing), while we struggled & were homeless. Couldn't get a job.
Craig had it all. The nice cars, houses, you name it. Craig was promiscuous, had numerous baby momma's, & had a domestic violence case with the woman he was with. He DEFINITELY turned into a narcissistic abuser, just like the woman who wanted to take the brownie points for raising us. What a shame!
THE END