At 25, I built my own house, and at the housewarming, my mother pulled me aside
David Thompson realized that his mother didn’t love him when he turned seven.
That’s when he broke his arm falling off his bike in the yard and ran home covered in tears and blood. Emily Johnson first yelled at him for ruining his shirt, then sighed and took him to the emergency room. The whole way, she grumbled about how he might make her late for work and how her boss would be unhappy.
When they got back home with his arm in a cast, five-year-old Ethan broke Mom’s favorite vase playing ball right in the living room. Emily Johnson just patted the younger one on the head and said, «It’s okay, sunshine, we’ll buy a new one.» David didn’t understand why it was like that back then.
He tried to be obedient, studied well, helped around the house. But his mother’s attention always went to Ethan. The younger brother could draw on the hallway walls, and Mom would just gush over his artistic talent.
He could throw a tantrum in the store demanding an expensive toy and get what he wanted. David, on the other hand, got lectures for every little thing about how he was the older one and should understand. Their father left the family when David was five.
Emily Johnson cried for a week, blaming the older son for everything. «If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t have left for that bitch!» she screamed, grabbing the boy by the shoulders and shaking him so hard his teeth chattered. David didn’t understand how his birth could have caused Dad to leave, but from then on, he felt guilty for all the family’s misfortunes.
His mother worked as a saleswoman in an upscale boutique in downtown Chicago. She was proud of her job, considered herself almost a fashion consultant. Emily Johnson could talk for hours about how she helped wealthy clients pick outfits, how the store owner valued her opinion.
«If it weren’t for the kids, I’d have been manager long ago,» she liked to repeat. And every time she said those words, she looked right at David. At school, the boy was quiet and withdrawn, with hardly any friends; it was hard to make friends when you couldn’t invite classmates over.
Emily Johnson didn’t like strangers in the apartment. «I’m already tired from work, and then there’s your yelling and running around,» she’d complain. But Ethan’s friends came over regularly, and Mom even bought them sweets.
David learned to be invisible. He did his homework in the room he shared with his brother, tried not to make noise, not to ask for extras. But even that didn’t help.
His mother always found something to complain about. Either he spent too long in the bathroom, or he didn’t put his shoes away right in the entryway, or he breathed too loudly at dinner. Ethan grew up completely different.
He was capricious, spoiled, used to getting everything on demand. If something didn’t go his way, he ran straight to Mom with complaints. Emily Johnson always took his side, even when the younger son was clearly wrong.
«He’s just little,» she’d excuse him when he was still throwing tantrums over trifles at 14. David remembered asking Mom to buy him sneakers at 15. The old ones were falling apart, and he was embarrassed to wear them to school.
Emily Johnson sighed a long time, counted the money in her wallet, and finally bought the cheapest ones she could find. A week later, she gave Ethan an expensive gaming console just to make him happy. The neighbors in the shared apartment where they lived the first years after Dad left pitied David.
Aunt Nancy from the next room sometimes treated him to pies and quietly fumed. How could she treat a child like that? He tries hard, studies well, and she just picks on him. But no one said anything out loud; it wasn’t done to interfere in other people’s family matters.
When David turned 16, Emily Johnson inherited a studio apartment from an aunt. The move was a big event for the family, but even here, the older son didn’t get any maternal attention. Emily Johnson set up the new place, bought furniture, curtains, but didn’t think about making David comfortable.
They gave him a fold-out cot in the corner of the room, screened off. «You’ll manage for now,» his mother said, «you’ll be an adult soon.» Those words turned out to be prophetic.
David had no idea that his mother was already planning to get rid of him back then. In the last months before his 18th birthday, she became especially cold, answered curtly, avoided conversations. Ethan, on the other hand, felt more confident.
He was rude to his older brother, ruined his things, complained to Mom about every little thing. David’s 18th birthday was gray and rainy. He woke up hoping that at least on his birthday, Mom would be kinder, maybe cook something tasty, say warm words.
But Emily Johnson met him in the kitchen with a stone face. She was at the stove frying eggs for Ethan and didn’t even turn when her son said hello. «Mom, can I have some eggs too?» David asked timidly…
«The eggs are gone,» she snapped. «There’s bread in the bag, eat it with butter.» Ethan giggled, watching it all.
At 16, he already understood what was happening and anticipated how things would unfold. After breakfast, David went to vocational school. He was studying construction, enjoyed it, dreamed of becoming a good specialist.
His teachers praised him, said he had «golden hands» and a «good head.» It was the only place where David felt needed and capable. He came home after lunch, hoping Mom had remembered his birthday after all.
But instead of congratulations, a suitcase waited by the front door—an old, worn one from Grandma. David stopped dead, staring at it. «Mom, what’s this?» he asked, though he already guessed.
Emily Johnson came out of the room, dressed in her best robe with a solemn expression. Ethan peeked from behind her, barely holding back laughter. «David, today you turned 18,» she began in an official tone.
«You’re an adult now and should support yourself; I’ve done my duty to you.» David stood in the middle of the entryway, unable to believe it. He knew his mother didn’t love him, but to this extent… «Mom, but I’m still studying, and where will I live?» «That’s your problem,» his mother shrugged, «rent a room, live in a dorm, work; others manage somehow.»
«And the apartment?» «The apartment is for Ethan; he’s the younger one, he’ll live here and start a family.» «And a room somewhere will do for you?» Ethan couldn’t hold it and giggled. «Come on, Dave!» he said mockingly…
