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A collection of storytelling

the outcome of our writer's workshops

Dear Stepmom

8/9/2016

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​I despise you because of the way you make me feel. When I first met you I didn’t know who you were and didn’t feel comfortable sitting in a house or talking to you. You were nine months pregnant the first time I met you, I thought you were a little heavy, not pregnant. That night you made dinner it was a delicious homemade dinner. Throughout the course of dinner, you didn’t say a word to me and my brother. Either way he didn’t care that you spoke to him or not, but I did. You were the last one. You were the last step mother that I was going to have. Out of the three step-mothers that I already had, you were the fourth. I thought you were going to be kind unlike the others who didn’t like us.
At the end of dinner, you and father went up to your room. I was called upstairs to come get my blankets. Throughout the night I felt scared, alone with nothing in my heart but fear for how the unborn baby’s life would be. The next day father and brother were sent of to work on the design of my dad’s new house. When I woke up I saw you there sitting down, talking on the phone, several minutes later you went to clean up the kitchen. I asked you a question but heard no response. I’ve even asked it again, and you forcefully yelled at me and told me not to bother you. The harsh words you said broke me deep down inside. I felt lonely, and confused, I didn’t know why you had said those words to me. I wanted to know why you said those words to me, but I was to afraid to ask you why.
The next few hours, were quiet and calm. When father and brother returned, you went to the kitchen to make dinner. I quietly tried to whisper to father about what you said to me, I succeeded at first, then he did not believe me. All night, I heard you guys talking and wondered what it was about. I quietly creeped up the stairs and heard that you guys were talking about me. Father had asked how the day had gone between us, and you completely lied to him. She reversed the entire story, you said “Your daughter yelled at me and made me feel odd and confused.” I was so shocked what you had just said, that I couldn’t even listen to your bull anymore.
I was so angry, I was about to come down the stairs and speak what’s on my mind. The next morning, I was still angry at what had happened last night. Father and brother were about to leave, suddenly I asked if I could go. But, you said no, you’re going to help me with chores, I felt confused. This is why I was afraid for the baby's life, I was also afraid that my dad would leave her lonely as a single mother of a newborn. You ordered me to go to the car because we were going to the doctors. I was really shocked that you wanted me to come with you, but I should have known you were lying the entire time. You had only brought me because father said so. I felt like you only put up with me because of my father. It was so obvious that you didn't like me, I really didn’t a give a toilet.
A few weeks later, you went into labor. Once you had the baby, you were nice. I don't know what changed in your wicked little mind, you had changed. You didn't yell at me you weren't forceful. But you and father yelled a lot about the baby. He would yell at you about random things about the baby. You would hate when he yelled at you, and I would hate when you yelled at me. I just didn't like how you made me feel, you're so confusing, I didn't want to see your face. Whenever he yelled at you, you started to curse and yell at me. I knew that you were gonna be just like the other ones. In your mind you probably think you're just mad about having a baby and the stress of taking care of one. I wanted to help you with the baby because I am very experienced with children and I know how babies are but you wouldn't let me in, in fact you only let me hold the baby 3 times in 2 months, and one of those times was our goodbye at the airport. You acted like I was a servant, you pushed me around and made me do things that a servant would do.I felt bad because I kept thinking that it was all my fault, that your anger and fear came to me I just wanted to let you know that I forgive you even though you don't give a crap. But either way, I hope we can come to amends.


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  • Home
    • Newsletter
  • About
    • Mission/Vision
    • Philosophy
  • Branches of Service
  • Resources
  • Portfolio
  • The Hands Project Stories
  • Contact
  • Terms and Conditions