Lately, Mom’s been acting weird, always asking where I’m going, who I’m with, when I’ll be back. We started fighting over small things, and I had no idea why she was making such a big deal.
One night, I came home late, and she was waiting for me, furious. We fought, and the next morning, my car was gone. When I asked her, she said, “I took it. You’ll get it back when you start acting like you deserve it.” I was LIVID. It wasn’t just about grounding me anymore — it felt like she was controlling my life.
So, I did what any 17-year-old would do: I snooped around. I knew she had a storage unit, and I figured she’d stashed it there. I waited until she left for a doctor’s appointment and found the keys in her room. It felt wrong, but I was FURIOUS. I had to get my car back.
When I got to the storage unit, I couldn’t help but smirk — victory was so close. I unlocked the door, expecting to see my car sitting there, untouched. But what I saw instead made me GO PALE.
There were boxes. Lots of them. Neatly labeledwith
MY MOM PUT MY CAR INTO HER STORAGE UNIT TO PUNISH ME — WHEN I SAW WHAT ELSE SHE WAS HIDING THERE, I WENT PALE.
