2
My mother scolded me, saying I was like a reincarnated starving ghost, eating more than a pig, completely uncultured and ungraceful. She sneered and told me that if she ever took me out, I’d only humiliate her.
From that day forward, nothing I did was right in her eyes. Even when she walked past me, she would pinch her nose in disdain.
I cried in the shower, scrubbing myself over and over, hoping to wash away whatever made her hate me. But she just scoffed as she chided me disdainfully, “Yanna, no matter how much you wash, you’ll never get rid of the stench of poverty on you. It’s in your bones.”
Slap!
A sharp pain burned at the back of my head, snapping me out of my senses.
The manager stood behind me, yelling, “What are you doing? Slacking off? Do you need a beating to wake you up?”
“If you don’t finish cleaning the restroom before your shift ends, you can lick it clean instead!”
Not satisfied with just words, he kicked me hard, and I stumbled to the ground.
Tears, hot and uncontrollable, streamed down my face.
The manager had scolded and hit me before, but I’d never cried. I tolerated it because the pay here was good, and I could earn more money to “rescue” my so–called family faster.
- me.
I tolerated everything and gave up my dignity just for my family. But today, the pain and humiliation overwhelmed
“You’re crying? Look at you, you jinx! Get up and get back to cleaning!”
The manager grabbed my hair and yanked me to my feet, making me cry out in pain.
My voice, filled with agony, caught the attention of my parents.
They turned their heads and met my gaze.
For a moment, I thought I would see guilt in their eyes.
But all I saw was disgust.
Their revulsion lasted only a few seconds before their expressions turned indifferent as if I were a stranger. Then, they turned and walked away.
I couldn’t hold back any longer and shouted, “Dad! Mom! Why? Why did you lie to me? Why are you pretending
not to know me?”
My father stopped and turned back, his expression cold. “Yanna, we lied to you out of pity. We let you live your little fantasy, thinking we were your family.”
“We pretended not to know you just now so you could keep living in that dream.
–
hranlium it dam’s hlama,in Vaumada thin ahaina!
10:29 AM
A Fake Poverty that My Parent Build for Me
“But since you insist on breaking it, don’t blame us. You made this choice.”
“If you don’t want this ‘family bond,‘ then fine. You don’t have to have it anymore.”
His words felt like a dagger stabbing my heart.
I glared at him, my voice trembling as I replied, “What? This fake ‘bond‘ is something you think you graciously gave me?”
My mother let out a cold laugh. “Of course. Look at you–poverty written all over your face. Do you think you’re worthy of being my daughter?”
I wiped my tears furiously and gritted my teeth. “You’re right–I’m not worthy of parents like you. You don’t deserve to be called parents at all!”
“I worked tirelessly, day and night, giving you all the money I earned. And this is how you repay me? Do you even have a conscience?”
“You’re not just unfit to be parents; you’re unfit to be human!” I shouted at the top of my lungs.
My mother’s face turned red with rage. She grabbed her handbag and threw it at me, hitting me squarely on the forehead. “I knew it! You grew up in the countryside, and it shows–filthy mouth, no manners! How dare you insult us? You’re out of control!”
The manager cautiously looked at my parents. “Sir, Madam, this girl… is she your daughter?”
Julian, my brother, spat on the ground near me. “What a joke. Does the Sanders family have a daughter who cleans toilets?”
“She’s just a conniving tramp trying to worm her way into our family for money. We’ve seen plenty like her before.”
“We pitied her and treated her kindly, and now she’s clinging to us.”
The manager nodded and bowed. “Of course, of course.”
His gaze toward me turned venomous again. “So, you’re after money, huh? Trying to scam Mr. and Mrs. Sanders? You’ve lost your mind!”
