When Mia’s stepmother, Trudy, plans an elaborate party for her 45th birthday, Mia has no choice but to do as she is told, including being a hidden helper throughout the festivities. But lucky for Mia, karma seems to be on her side, ready to teach Trudy a lesson.
Grab some popcorn, folks, because this story is one of those moments when the universe steps in and delivers a cosmic smackdown right when you least expect it.
Let me introduce you to the key players of the story:
I’m Mia. I’m sixteen years old and stuck in a suburban home with my dad and stepmom, Trudy.
Trudy’s been around for about two years, and, oh boy, does she have the “wicked stepmother” act down perfectly.
If you looked up “entitled” in the dictionary, I’m pretty sure you’d find her picture staring back at you.
Life with her has felt like living inside a bad reality show, but no one is filming, and definitely not paying me for my trouble.
Dad stays out of the way as much as he can. He’s the “happy wife, happy life” type of man, except that Trudy’s never really happy. She’s the type who expects the world to fall at her feet and cater to her every whim.
Now, let’s talk about last Saturday, the day of Trudy’s birthday party.
It was so over-the-top that, honestly, it could have been a wedding reception.
It was her 45th birthday, and Trudy was trying to hold on to her youth in any way she could. In the week leading up to the party, she strutted around the house like some kind of queen.
“You’d better get me something special this year, Mia,” she said when she came into the kitchen as I was cutting up fruit for my morning smoothie. “A dishwasher would be nice.
After all, I’ve done a lot for you.”
Yeah, sure. Good old Trudy. She’s done a lot for me…
if you count bossing me around like I’m some sort of Cinderella knockoff.
“Uh, Trudy,” I said, adding yogurt to the blender, “I’m kind of saving for my prom dress.”
I already knew where this conversation was going.
Her face twisted into this weird look, like she couldn’t believe I just said that.
“Your prom dress?” she scoffed. “Mia, that’s ridiculous! You can just buy something from one of the clothing stores.
Something cheap. A dishwasher is much more practical. I don’t want to hear any more excuses.”
Excuses?
I was floored. This woman really expected me to drop all my savings on an appliance just because she “deserved” it. Like, where’s my fairy godmother when I need her?
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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