Spiteful

The latest info I have received about Joanna is that she is homeless. I honestly could not care less. She still has the house, but since she is too lazy and drug ridden to actually get a job, there is no heat/water/etc. I might be inclined to actually feel sorry for her, if she hadn't constantly started kicking me out when I was about 14-years-old.

At 14 I had entered high school, had my first boyfriend and was gaining some independence. I'm not going to lie, I loved getting kicked out because it meant I didn't have to be near her. The downside to this is that she would kick me out, and within hours call the cops and report me as a suicidal runaway. It was never mentioned that she would hit me and tell me to get the fuck out, but that I left and was threatening my life, which was a complete lie. This made it very awkward for me, and for my friends when cops would show up looking for a suicide case. She loved to tell people I was suicidal, I have no idea why. For attention, I guess. I was actually never suicidal, homicidal maybe.

When I was 19 and living in the house with two crackheads (I liked them, don't get me wrong, but they literally smoked crack) she demanded I pay her rent. I refused, because they didn't have to pay rent. I really thought it was unfair they received free room and board while I had to pay. Anyway, she came to the house one day, high off her face. Of course, she started a fight. She would regularly take all of her pills, not remember and accuse my brother or myself of stealing from her. She would also take all of her pills, be aware that she took all of them, get desperate and call the cops to report a theft, so she could re-up her prescription. That day was the latter. I encouraged her to call the cops so they could see what a crazy drug addict she was. I think the cops have been called to 13304 Dauphine St. at least one hundred times. I am not joking. The cop showed up and she screamed, "My son stole all of my medicine!" Don't you love how drug addicts refer to Oxycontin as their "medicine"? I explained to the cop that she regularly did this so she could refill her prescription early. "That's a fucking lie, you stole my medicine you dumb bitch! She stole my medicine!" The cop noticed the inaccuracy in her story, "I thought your son took your  pills?" I chimed in the she was the one who took all her pills. "Ma'am, you clearly need help." This is when she decided she wanted me out of the house for good. "Fine, but this is my house, I want her the fuck out!" The cop asked me to leave, just to "make the situation easier." I didn't want to stay there anyway, even though I didn't really have a place to go and it was February. I had just turned 20 actually. I gathered up as many clothes as I could in a trash bag and took a cab to my grandmother's apartment. It was an efficiency. When I went back to gather the rest of my clothes, Joanna had either thrown or given them away to one of her drug addict friends. My room was completely empty. I barely had anything. I spent the better part of six months between friends' and my grandmother's couch.

When the landlord caught on that my brother and I were pretty much living there, she said we had to get out. She was doing an inspection in a week and all of our things had to be gone. I had nowhere to take them, so I asked my mom if I could keep them in the hotel room she was staying in, for two days. It was a really nice hotel, she didn't really leave the room and she was so high she could barely talk. I figured my things would be safe for a couple days while I figured out what to do with them. When I went to pick my clothes up, they were gone. She couldn't even remember that I had brought them. I literally only had what I was wearing and a few random (and shitty) items I'd left at my grandmothers. Not only had Joanna rendered me homeless, but now I didn't even have clothes. The clothes I worked for. Clothes I had spent my money on, because she refused to stop buying me clothes (even winter clothes) when I turned 11.

My little brother, who I dislike immensely has been up in arms about her situation. I guess I'd be concerned too if she hadn't treated me so poorly my entire life. Joseph never really received her anger. Maybe because he was the baby and got everything he ever wanted. Or maybe because they're the most alike. I couldn't care less about her situation. She threw me out on the street when I was extremely young, and never cared about my well being. I didn't have anything. She is a grown woman, she's had cars and houses, and she lost it all because of her poor choices.

The most spiteful part about this is, she is now going to lose the house. She has no money, she can't maintain it. I told my little brother that the only way to save the house is by signing it over to me. Which is true. Despite the fact that she'll lose the house either way, she won't do it. She said that I had the chance to buy it (when I was 19, with no job, and for double what it's worth) and I lost it.