I spent the morning cleaning, sweeping, mopping and scrubbing my aunt's kitchen as well as washing her family's stink load of laundry. Not because anyone asked me to, but to earn my keep so to speak. It's bad enough that I feel like Cinderella around here. My aunt's college-age kids walk past me without speaking. They say hello to their dogs and nothing to me like their dogs mean more to them than I do. Every other day or so, I look around to find everyone gone. It is their way to pack their family in the car and leave me behind. Oftentimes they return with trays of food. I get it. I'm an outsider, not part of your loving family. In fact, I am aware that I am in their home every minute of the day. They don't let me forget it.
At 37 years old, I sleep on a twin-size blow up mattress in a corner of their living room. In the morning, they walk over and across me like I'm in the middle of Times Square. I put the air mattress in a corner of the living room so I wouldn't have to inflate and deflate it everyday, and someone threw it down the stairs into the basement. It gets worse. My aunt's husband kicked my 10lb poople down a flight of stairs because the dog barks at him. He told me my dog "fell down the stairs" but when I went to check on my poodle, he had a scar under his nose. That bastard is one mean perverted freak.
And even this bullshit is an upgrade from the way I was treated by my mother and sister.
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