The “Useless Parent” Who Built a Kindergarten

The Trash Bin

The other teachers bristled.

"You're pushing it! Our janitors get paid three thousand dollars every month! People would kill to get a spot!"

"Yeah, she's giving you a chance, and you're spitting in her hand? Take your daughter and scram!"

Samantha covered her giggle behind her hand. "Oh, leaving is easy for her. I think we should make her know her place!"

She tried to shove me, but I stepped back and smacked her hand. "You're a teacher. Watch your tongue."

"How dare you fight back!" Samantha was angered, and she slapped me hard.

My cheek was burning, and my ears rang.

"Guards, take her to the storeroom!"

A pair of guards darted ahead and grabbed me by my arms, then they pushed me toward the storeroom.

"Let go! You can't do this to me!" I tried to pull myself away, but they were two adult males. They kept pushing me until I was pinned in the corner.

Samantha sneered and picked up a trash bin. "I can do this to you. My husband is this place's biggest stakeholder. He invested 45 million just for me. He's not around, so I call the shots!"

"I donated that money for my daughter! You have nothing to do with it! I can prove it!"

"You're still lying." Samantha sneered. "You don't know your place, but I can help you with that."

She turned her hand, and the whole bin of trash rained upon me. Empty, sticky yogurt boxes, stained napkins, and everything else that smelled rancid assailed my nose. I nearly retched.

"Sober now?" Samantha tossed the bin away and dusted her hands. Then she looked at me like I was a maggot. "Stop daydreaming. Trash belongs in the bin."

The wavy-haired teacher got the hint. She grabbed a mop. Dirty water was still dripping from its ends. "Ms. Johnson, I think we should teach her that some people are born to be filthy, lowly peasants.

She dragged the mop across my blouse, and a yellowish-brown stain bloomed like a nasty flower. It smelled like rotten food. The guards were still pinning me against the wall.

"Come, ladies!" Samantha clapped her hands. "Wash Mr. Shaw's wife clean. Maybe we can sell her for good money. That'll pay for her daughter's fees!"

The other teachers grabbed brooms and cleaning cloth, then they came to me.

Humiliation and the filth on my face blurred my vision. I stared darkly at Samantha's face. If I could, I would tear this woman limb from limb.

It wasn't the time to cry. Harmony was still in the car waiting for me. I was her mother. I must not let her see me acting so weak.

So I mustered up my courage and slammed my head backward right into a guard's jaw.

The sudden attack made him loosen his grip. I broke free of their grasp and rushed toward the door as hard as I could.

"You crazy bitch!" The guard wiped his face. Blood was dripping from his nose. The moment he saw red, he went crazy.

The guard darted ahead and yanked me by my hair, then he dragged me back. The pain made me shriek, but he tossed me back to the corner. "You thought you could run after hitting me, bitch?"

I was pinned against the ground, covered in trash. His knee was against my back, and his full weight was behind it. I could not even move.

"Let me go! Quincy is coming! He'll kill you for this!"

My warning only made them laugh.

"She still thinks she's Mr. Shaw's wife! He picks up Ms. Johnson from work all the time! This woman's nothing!"

"Guess we really have to write out she's trash on her face, or she's never going to face the truth."

The wavy-haired teacher handed a marker pen over like a sycophant.

"You have a point." Samantha smiled smugly. She took the pen and approached me.

"Quincy is with me every single night!" I said. "He doesn't have the time to pick you up from work!"

"You're still stubborn."

I tried to protest, but Samantha's face fell. She crouched down and was going to scribble on my face.

Then, a young voice came from the entrance. It stammered, "D-Don't bully… bully my mom!"