I built a house, but my mother declared on the day of the housewarming that I should give it to my “poor” brother. However, it seemed that she forgot that she had evicted me from the house when I was eighteen.
I had just turned eighteen when my story started eleven years ago. My biological mother gave me an empty backpack and the following icy words as she sent me out the door that day:
Now that you’re an adult, you’ll take care of yourself.
She seemed unconcerned that I had no education, no job, and nowhere to go. I was left alone when she shut the door. I recall that night: hunger, cold, hopelessness, and just one thought: live.
I made it through. I worked all day and into the night, laying bricks, mopping floors, and unloading cargo. I worked any side job I could find while I was studying.
I soon acquired a small piece of property and began constructing a home.
I already had this house, a car, and a steady job by the time I was twenty-nine. Although I didn’t yet have a family, I thought that everything will work itself out. I gathered friends, family, and even my mother on the day of the housewarming because I wanted to prove to her that I had overcome everything in the past.
However, rather than congratulating me, my mother drew me aside and said:
— Give your brother this house, son. His life is more difficult because he lives in a rented flat with his wife and child. And a room at our house is sufficient for you. You have no family and are alone.
I stared at her, unable to believe it. She seems to have forgotten how she had previously tossed me out. The youngster who silently bore all of this, she believed, was still before her. But suddenly a man was standing in front of her.
In that instant, I realized all the wrongs I had done and did something that shocked my mother so much that she sobbed and fled the home.
I didn’t talk softly. In front of everyone, I said:
You don’t have the right to ruin my life just because you gave birth to me. I did all of this by myself. By myself! Additionally, your favorite son has lived off of you his entire life and will do so for many years to come. I’ll be alright; I’ll start a family and raise my kids. And you’ll continue to be as pitiful as ever.
She became pale, but I continued.
You are not my mother, in my opinion. I hate you for making me feel inferior as a child and for abandoning me at home while you went out with other men. And thank goodness I haven’t yet told the cops what you do on the weekends with your friends. Do you believe I’m not noticing? Enough. Leave my house. I’d rather not see you ever again.
There was silence in the room. My mother’s face contorted, she got pale, and then she started crying and rushed out the door. The family members exchanged glances; nobody dared to say anything.
My destiny will never be under anyone’s control again.
