Character Study

Damn them. Damn them all to hell. They stuck me in an old age home. Old age! I'm barely 70! I certainly did not give birth eight damn times to have my kids ship me off to this prison when it began to actually cost them something to keep me around. That bastard Rosalie married could afford me five times over, and still have money left for his two most expensive hobbies: cars and booze. Yet here I am. In a stinking old age home.

The food here is simply awful. Everything is low fill-in-the-blank. I think they’re trying to murder me. Honest to God, they must be! I’ll call Eve. If she can take in all those strays, she can surely take in me.

I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t! I can take care of my self! I can feed, bathe, and crap on my own, and I won’t go wondering off and fall down the stairs or anything. I have my mind. I have my body. So why the hell am I here?

Each one had a different version, but it basically boils down to a lack of money or a lack of interest. The ones who care can’t afford me, and the ones who can afford me don’t care. Damn them. I poured everything I had into those kids, and still they’ll leave me here to rot!

There’s nothing to do here. You just sit around all day, staring at the TV or napping. Everyone around me, it’s like they’re already dead!

So apparently my nurse—they assign each of us personal nurses—who happens to be almost as old as I am, which I find ridiculous, broke something important and will be out for an indefinite period of time. Lucky her.

I'm not even going to tell you about the person they got to replace my last nurse. You wouldn’t believe me.

Everything is magenta. That’s all I see. Everything else is black. No, I'm not going crazy. It’s that new nurse, Fern she’s called. Hah. Haha. Fern. Whoever named her that has a real dark sense of humor. And no, Fern doesn’t wear magenta, she is magenta. Or at least her hair, which is short and straight, is. No, no, her clothes are all black. If she’s feeling really cheerful, she might opt for a nicely wrinkled pair of camouflage pants. I thought the nurses had a uniform? Maybe she’s a special kind of nurse, reserved only for the most rebellious of grannies. Well, if this kid thinks she can beat me into submission, she’s got another one coming. I almost pity her, really.

What nerve that woman has! Today, I asked her to fetch me a glass of water, and she told me to get it myself! Isn’t that what they pay her for, to take care of me?

I cannot believe this! She’s ignoring me! Today I asked her to bring me my book, and she just ignored me! How rude! And she’s been ignoring me ever since. It’s all very childish. It’s like a game to her. She needs to be “better” than me. Very immature.

Ok, this is getting to be too much. It was one thing at first, but I’ve had enough.

To be continued…