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Chapter 4
The next day, I started work as a kitchen helper at a local restaurant, beginning my new life of back–to–back shifts.
When I got home that first night, I was so exhausted my eyelids kept drooping shut. There was no dinner left for me, and after searching through every cabinet, I couldn’t even find any food. I had no choice but to eat the bread roll I’d set aside for tomorrow’s breakfast before collapsing into bed.
Half–asleep, I suddenly felt my blanket being yanked off as a shrill voice exploded in my ear.
You worthless girl! Look at what time it is and you’re still sleeping like a damn pig! Get up and go to work!”
As Darlene berated me, I groggily reached for my phone. It was only 4:30 AM–the sun wasn’t even up. I instantly felt a crushing wave of despair and
frustration.
“Mom, my shift doesn’t start until eight. Even if I get up at seven, I’ll have plenty of time. Why do I need to be
SLAP!
up
now?”
As soon as the words left my mouth, a harsh slap landed across my face.
Darlene stood with her hands on her hips, seething with anger.
“I start my housekeeping job at six and have to be at the market for fresh meat and vegetables before that. What makes you so special that you get to sleep until seven? Get up and make breakfast for everyone!”
Seeing my pained expression, she finally looked satisfied, condescendingly looking down at me and speaking in a lecturing tone:
“No pain, no gain. I’m only doing this for your own good–giving you an early taste of how hard real work
- is. This builds character.”
I glanced at the broken door, then back at my mother who looked ready to strike again. Resigned to my fate, I dragged myself out of bed to make breakfast.
After going hungry all night, I was already starving, but Darlene quickly scooped more than half of my oatmeal into Caleb’s bowl.
Caleb rubbed his sleepy eyes, somewhat complaining.
“Mom, how am I supposed to finish all this?”
Yet Darlene pushed the bowl toward her son while shouting: “What do you mean you can’t finish it? You’re starting your senior year soon–that’s hard work! You need to eat more to keep your strength up!”
I glanced at my bowl, now less than half full, and hurriedly shoveled what remained into my mouth.
This tiny portion wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy my hunger, but I had no choice except to head to work on an empty stomach. My workplace was two subway stops away, but without a single penny to my name, I had to walk. Even though my parents knew perfectly well they’d taken every cent from
they pretended not to notice.
me,
After a full day of grueling work, despite the small free lunch the restaurant provided, I was absolutely famished by the time my shift ended.
But over the next few days, I realized this was becoming my new normal.
Every night I’d return home starving only to find no fresh food available for me, forcing me to eat their leftovers.
In the summer heat, food left out of the refrigerator quickly spoiled.
But when you’re starving, you can’t be picky. I’d wolf it down in a few bites, then rush to wash up and get to bed. After all, by 4:30 the next morning, Darlene would wake me up “for my own good” to make breakfast for the entire family. Between the intense physical work, constant hunger, and existing malnutrition, within two weeks I was dizzy and weak.
