I just had a panic attack
I'm not quite sure what happened, I was coming home from work and a lady called telling me that my parents might need my help.
As all of you that know anything about my parents... is not the first time.
What you don't know is that baby sis moved to the "city" and that older brother moved far north of town leaving me pretty much alone in charge of my always needy parents. AND my other brother, the one who stole stuff from my house moved God Knows where - I don't actually care to say the truth- and nobody else is around.
So I was thinking why would they might need my help. Last time was because they were fighting screaming and throwing stuff around. So I went by and found a million burnt pots and pans, and I remember one time I had to rush home because my dad burnt something so bad fire department was called. I remember I payed the fine.
This is not because of my father who wasn't happy to see me since we're not talking to each other again.
It was my mother's fault, she's "tired of cooking" and everything even the kettle ends up black if she HAS so much as to start the stove.
All this is bad. Right? I offered them that catering service, so they could have fresh good food every day and mom don't have to cook, but she refused, my father just growled something about them being capable of looking after themselves.
So I went out to talk to the neighbor she said they're pretty okay but the smell of something burning start every day or two around three PM.
I was going back to my parent's when the smell hit me and I had this flashback, I don't really remember what I was doing, I think I was changing a diaper, I was like 8 or 9 and my mother passed the door and started screaming and cursing because of the smell, she then held the thing with a towel and trowed it at me. I think it was rice, I'm almost sure it was rice.
I remember having one mark on her pots was death sentence with her, and I can't remember if we were alone or if we had a maid at the time, but I do remember that, I remember because my sisters were near and I heard them running to my bedroom and I remember the slam of the door and my mother saying she'd kill me if it weren't for the bother of a useless body.
I had to sit outside of their house for like an hour, trying my best to breath. it made sense. Because for as long as I remember I can't feel the smell of burnt food without start crying.
I still don't know how I ended up taking care of them.
As all of you that know anything about my parents... is not the first time.
What you don't know is that baby sis moved to the "city" and that older brother moved far north of town leaving me pretty much alone in charge of my always needy parents. AND my other brother, the one who stole stuff from my house moved God Knows where - I don't actually care to say the truth- and nobody else is around.
So I was thinking why would they might need my help. Last time was because they were fighting screaming and throwing stuff around. So I went by and found a million burnt pots and pans, and I remember one time I had to rush home because my dad burnt something so bad fire department was called. I remember I payed the fine.
This is not because of my father who wasn't happy to see me since we're not talking to each other again.
It was my mother's fault, she's "tired of cooking" and everything even the kettle ends up black if she HAS so much as to start the stove.
All this is bad. Right? I offered them that catering service, so they could have fresh good food every day and mom don't have to cook, but she refused, my father just growled something about them being capable of looking after themselves.
So I went out to talk to the neighbor she said they're pretty okay but the smell of something burning start every day or two around three PM.
I was going back to my parent's when the smell hit me and I had this flashback, I don't really remember what I was doing, I think I was changing a diaper, I was like 8 or 9 and my mother passed the door and started screaming and cursing because of the smell, she then held the thing with a towel and trowed it at me. I think it was rice, I'm almost sure it was rice.
I remember having one mark on her pots was death sentence with her, and I can't remember if we were alone or if we had a maid at the time, but I do remember that, I remember because my sisters were near and I heard them running to my bedroom and I remember the slam of the door and my mother saying she'd kill me if it weren't for the bother of a useless body.
I had to sit outside of their house for like an hour, trying my best to breath. it made sense. Because for as long as I remember I can't feel the smell of burnt food without start crying.
I still don't know how I ended up taking care of them.