When your anger goes beyond destruction.

Date: 8/25/2019

I'm nearly positive I was a teen or young adult, whichever I think I was a foster or something. I was living with someone who often shipped me off somewhere for a little bit. This time that I came back the house was different. It had been so nice, and they had been renovating, but I couldn't understand these new renovations. They basically renovated everything until all the toilets were gone. I desperately had to pee. They kept telling me the toilet was in here or in there. Three and a half bathrooms were gone, suddenly empty of a toilet as if one had never been there. It all looked nice too, renovated as if for a family who didn't need to use them. I kept searching and arguing. I was pissed cause I really had to go. They told me to use various things, a sink, a cup, ect. I was so pissed off. I looked around outside hoping to find one of the toilets they chucked. I was willing to pee outside as long as it was in a toilet. There was a lot of junk outside around there house and behind all the houses just before the wood. Autumn covered the ground in fallen leaves quite thick, and I still couldn't find one. I found a lot of bags. Bags I'd thrown out, bags they threw out. Purses and messenger bags and luggage. So many bags, some had been tossed out for an age. One black purse backpack of mine from years ago still had dates in it, all rotten and being eaten on by bugs. I was on the phone the entire time with a friend. Texting and calling. She was a foster too but more of a trouble maker. She ran wild, broke everything, acted like an animal, and often got tossed out. The family I stayed with sent her from one home to another home until they each tossed her out. She inevitably destroyed something completely illogical to destroy. She didn't use the houses as houses, often broke in to strangers homes to use theirs, ran up a criminal list a mile long. Then she complained how everyone didn't like her and told her what to do all the time. I complained about the toilet thing when it happened. She's like, "Just use a cup like I do. I just used one." She's currently in some house acting like an animal stealing and not even using their facilities correctly, peeing in a yellow cup rather than the toilet. She had a kid with her she was teaching the same. I'm a bit fed up cause I'm desperatly looking for a toilet. I want to ask her if I got my own house and she came over would she use it the same way, treat it like trash? I felt hurt if that was the case but I didn't see how she could do otherwise as she treated every house like trash. I found an electronic list of the man I lived with, his finances. He paid other families to take her for a bit, he called it visits, and then paid for all the damage she did. He'd actually been taking care of her the whole time, unable to just abandon her despite her stupid wild behavior. I was shocked. She ran up quite the bill in each place she left, breaking so many things which needed replacing. He couldn't handle her but he paid for her distruction and made sure she always had care. That sounded like care to me, love even. Chatting on the phone I found out she just didn't care about anything, not life or anything. She literally admitted to killing some evil dude's special somebody on the phone with him and was recorded. She didn't care he might use it against her. She just didn't care about herself. She just wanted to take him down, revenge for what he did to her. She wasn't smart about it though. I felt so sad. She was afraid to tell me all the things she had done. All the crimes and hurts she'd caused and people she'd angered. I was dealing with my own problems, just finding a toilet, and dealing with issues in the kitchen. I tried to cook. It wasn't going well. The chef didn't like me either, didn't want to help. There was a lot of cooking via the roof and the chimney, you could pick or see what was on the menu by this banner on the chimney roof. The roof was alike a barber pole, and the words showed through a window like a magic eight ball. I was going on a feild trip and I tried to find the little asian baby I held a seat. They put the car seats in the back of the bus, instead of the front like you were supposed do. I kept trying to find them a place up front, there were two car seats.The baby had a pleasant weight to her, like a bag of sand. Kinds comforting, like a sand plushie doll. I was also worried about having a home, about being tossed out or sent away again. My friend didn't care about my worries, she didn't care about having a home, but I did. I really wanted to be wanted, really accepted, adopted. But I was too old. I wished I could pretend to be a kid again, younger, a teen, so a nice family would adopt me. I wanted a home so bad.