By Chef Tahmizzles
She really gets very annoying sometimes. She always screams at me and tells me to do things I don’t like doing. Yesterday, she turned off my PS4 while I was playing Fortnite!
I’ve had enough of it!
That’s why I’m leaving home. I don’t really wanna leave my big brother. He’s usually nice to me. My dad went on a business trip a couple of years ago and hasn’t come back. I’m sure I’ll see him someday, but he was nice too.
But I can’t handle my mum anymore. She’s always angry at me and yelling at me. I’m leaving! Continue reading “I Hate my Mum”
By Chef Dectrek
I’ve never liked getting help from others. It always felt like pity. Like someone was trying to rub it in my face that I needed them even for the briefest moment in time.
So you can imagine how tough it was when my husband died and all the neighbors wanted to offer me their condolences. Denise would come over and say “Laura, it’s such a shame about George. How are you going to manage raising little Susy all by yourself? I’ve still got Drew and we can barely keep up with our five little ones considering how involved they are at the school. Anyways I brought you a casserole. Just put it in the oven for 30 minutes and no more or else it will burn…” It’s funny how I always left it in ten minutes to long. I guess I’m clumsy. Continue reading “A Cult Shoveled My Driveway”
By Chef Cheeseanonioncrisps
We were never supposed to be two. There was only ever supposed to be one of us.
“I hate twins.” My mother once said to me when I was four, after seeing two identical little boys on the street. We were standing in an alleyway as she said it, I was crying because I fallen over when she bolted, still clutching my hand, and scraped my knee. She was still standing, but sort of hunched up, like it was only the fact that there wasn’t anywhere to sit that prevented her from curling up into the foetal position. Beside her, dribbling into the drain, was a puddle of the stuff she’d retched up once we were ‘safe’ in the alley.
My mother really hated twins. I don’t want to know why. When I was younger, I used to ask her, now I never want to find out. Whatever happened to her, whatever inspired her hatred, it was potent enough that it affected her whole life- and ours. I’m scared it might infect me as well- I’m terrified that it was me. That something about me and my sister was so horrific that it scarred our mother for life. Continue reading “Twins”