I had no choice but to go. As soon as I got to school I had this overwhelming feeling that I just wanted to go home and lay on my mothers lap and cry. It wasn’t because of the argument but it was something else I just couldn’t put my finger on. The school day was finally over and I still couldn’t shake this feeling. My god brother and downstairs neighbor wanted to come over and play the game and even though I still just wanted to get in the house and cry, I reluctantly agreed. When we got to the door it was locked. No big deal. Looked under the mat and the key wasn’t there. Still not unusual.
In 2018 I spent a couple of months on crutches, my foot encased in a solid plastic boot for support. On my way back from my physio appointments, I liked to stop at a coffee shop or McDonalds to get something to eat. As you can imagine, being on crutches meant I needed a bit more assistance from staff. Most of them understood this, but not this one lady at the coffee shop.
The various types of sandwich were kept in a customer-facing fridge. You picked it out, and if it was one that needed heating up you handed it over to the person taking your order. There wasn’t enough spare material in the packaging for me to hold it between my fingers and the crutch handle, so I told the woman on the tills which one I wanted, but “sorry, I can’t carry it over here”. She refused to go and fetch it, or ask a staff member nearby to do so. Eventually another customer intervened and passed it to her.
“Stop being lazy and carry your own drink to the table.” Yeah, that’s a brilliant thing to say with your manager in hearing range. The manager that’s now witnessed you refuse two reasonable accommodations to assist a (temporarily) disabled person. The manager that was already pulling the seat out at my usual table so I didn’t have to. She was already gone by the time I finished my drink and toastie, and the free piece of cake I got for dealing with her. She stormed out in a massive huff a few minutes after being told to go to the office.
My “sister” was upset because I got to a particular dish before she did and had the nerve to ask her to hand me a serving spoon to serve myself even though I was on crutches at the time. She fumed all of the way to the table. Erupting after I announced my intention to go to college starting in February. Then I put my baby, who’d finished eating, down in one of those rocking spinning toys. That’s when she exploded. Everything I did was wrong according to her and I shouldn’t be doing xyz (none of which I was doing), yelling all of it.
I climbed up the back patio and let myself in. I immediately went to the front door to let my company in. After I let them in I went to the kitchen to get a piece of cake and my downstairs neighbor went straight to the tv and cut it and the game on. For some reason my god brother started to walk through the apartment. When he came back into the living room he told us that we needed to go outside. We begrudgingly went. Once outside he proceeded to say “I don’t know how to say this, but your mother is dead”. I darted back in and went straight to her bedroom. She was tied to the bed with the phone cord and her throat had been sliced open. There was blood everywhere.