Chapter 3: A Life Packed in Trash Bags
Maybe I should have known better.
I grew up in foster care. My mother abandoned me after I was born, and my father spent most of my life in prison. I learned young that adults could promise anything and mean nothing at all.
I learned how to keep my belongings packed tightly in trash bags. I learned how not to cry when strangers stopped pretending they cared.
When I aged out, nobody hugged me goodbye. Nobody asked where I would go. I ended up in that town because rent was cheap and nobody cared enough to ask questions.
I survived by working miserable jobs for miserable bosses until I stumbled into Joe’s Diner one morning during a breakfast rush.
Joe looked like he had been carved from old concrete. Thick arms. Permanent scowl. Voice like gravel.
“You ever carried three plates at once?” he asked.
“No.”
“You got ten minutes to learn.” That was my interview… Continue Reading ⬇️