My mother said, “Your brother is coming with his two kids to live with us, so you need to leave, you parasite.” I replied, “You’re joking, right?” My mom laughed. “No, I’m serious.” I said nothing and walked away. The next morning… 53 missed calls

Then came Jason Walker—a “friend” from her church group. Always around. Always watching. Always making small comments that felt harmless at first, but weren’t.

“You must miss having your own life,” he’d say casually.

Or, “It’s nice you have somewhere to fall back on.”

Somewhere to fall back on.

As if I hadn’t built that safety myself.

Then things started appearing.

School forms.

Extra mattresses.

Boxes that didn’t belong to me.

And then disappearing just as quickly when I asked.