When I was 19, in the summer between freshman and sophomore year, my mother kicked me out of the house in favor of a man named Bill. I was never truly allowed home again.
That's been triggered hardcore during this whole moving process. When our landlord married his wife, all I could think was Bill's back. I knew our time was limited. When I met with a friend and former neighbor yesterday, she told me the wife complained about all the neighbors. I knew that had to include us.
She had all kinds of negative things that she would pass on to our landlord, who used to be a father figure to us. I played my car stereo too loudly when I would leave to go to a cafe early in the morning. We threw our diapers in the trash the wrong way. Hell, they got married in the yard next door and we weren't invited.
I always knew she wanted us gone. I don't trust that they're selling the place. I just think they want to kick us out and jack up the rent.
Fuck the Bills of the world.
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