Stepmother and her adopted child

My sister sent me a message “Just check this out” and sent  me a link. We always send to each other hilarious internet jokes, pictures and posts. But this message was different.

I opened the link and it took me to facebook profile of a young girl. There were tons of her selfies. Literally, tons. She has long curled hair, applies showy make-up, wears sexy dresses, highheeled shoes, looks pretty bitchy but beautiful.

“Ok, sis, so who the hell is that chick?”

“She… He is Alex.”

Whaaaat?! Alex? I haven’t seen this little boy for few years already… He was 12 or 13 then.

Our family friends adopted him and his brother when they were kids. They were living in a small village. The Real village where people wake up at 4 a.m. and go to their farms, feed cows, horses, chickens and etc… And then spend the whole day gardening, planting, watering…. And then again go back to the farm. The real village where women wear scarfs, long skirts, flat shoes and no makeup. The Real village where rural customs still obtain.

I remember that little boy playing with cats and dreaming to become a pet doctor one day. I remember him hugging his stepmother and telling her she is the best. I remember her red chicks and eyes full of happiness.

Few months ago I accidently met her at the friends house. She had some wine, tried hard to smile and relax, but I noticed that she was completely lost and frustrated.

She took some more wine and poured like a rain her misery out. 

Her lovely son didn’t visit them anymore. Sometime he called and asked for money  crying that he has no money to come home and see her. When she sent money to him he just didn’t come. Just switched off his phone until the next “mommysendmemoney” call. He was already 17 then. He got a full-scholarship from the government and moved to the big city for studying at the college.

One day he came to the village. Hw came With his boyfriend. Can you imagine the shock of these poor village people?

Maybe they were even paralyzed for a while. I can even imagine the black-and-white cows stop chewing the green green grass and staring at the drama scene.

All the rural mentality of his family was completely crushed. 

– “He was nice…” – she said weeping-ripe, – “his boyfriend was nice. And they looked happy and I thought to myself “okay… he is my lovely son, I want him to be happy… It ishischoice, his life. I just want him to visit me, to call me.”.

To be honest, it was a deed of a hero. It was very very very hard for her to admit that her son was a gay. 

It was unbelievebly hard to get this, to admit this, to dont give a fuck about what the neighbours will gossip…. For her who was born and grew up in these super rural customs.

So she cried. She was happy he came back.


He left the city with his new transexual friend. He took all the money his stepmother had saved for him. He wasted everyfucking cent and called her asking to sent him some money to buy a ticket to come back home.

She said : “Tell me where are you and I will buy a ticket for you”

He said: “Fuck off with your goddamned help”.



Trophies Of The Cheater’s Success

Why does a woman publish tons of private photos with her lover to Facebook and Instagram?

Why does a woman who is currently married share these disgusting pictures and videos with friends and collegues?

Why the hell she openly humiliates her husband?


– I wanna show you something, – she said and winked. She turned on a video on her phone. On the video : she and her lover, her legs wrapped around his body and his hand pressed to her thighs.

– Don’t you think your husband can see it?! You publish that things to Fb?! Your family, your friends can see it! This is too much, really! – my jaw litterally dropped to the floor.

– No, he doesn’t have a fb profile. He works at district court, so it’s forbidden for him to use social networks…. Blaaah blah….Look look, this is him again, dancing with me..

– Why don’t you divorce? Why? You don’t love, don’t even respect him!

– But where will I go? I don’t have a place to go but his apartment. He has good job and salary, and my lover doesn’t even work. And … he didnt ask me to divorce. It is Ok. And my husband trusts me. He will never know.


Yesterday her husband DID it finally. He looked through her photo albums. Found pictires.

Do you think she was upset telling me this? Nope. She litteraly said the following:

– I just made him believe that’s not me on these pictures. I said she is just a girl who looks alike in appearence.


I can never understand this.

Unconditional love

No… Please. Don`t do it.

Please don`t send me your messages anymore. Never. Just don`t do it.

Just don`t ruin my life again. Just don`t tear my world apart again. It takes too long to recover, it takes too long to become sober. It takes too long to forget…and then you send your goddamned messages again.

I hate your messages even though they make me smile.I hate your messages even though I find your sense of humor the best one in the world. I hate all the great moments we shared. Coz they don`t make me happy anymore… they just make my eyes wet. Coz there is nothing but your messages anymore.

I hate your messages even though I melt deep inside…I hate your messages for touching my unhealed wounds.

I hate you for popping up into my life when I barely feel alive…

I hate it when I forget the world while sending my reply to you.

I hate it when your reply is damn too short.

I hate it when I stare at the ceiling in the middle of the night waiting for your reply.

I hate it when there`s no reply from you.

And I hate myself for being so stupid to believe there`s a little hope that one day you`ll knock at my door.

Just like I did.


Yesterday night I got a message from my collegue “Can I come to you?”

To be honest, I was quite surprised by the message. Not because it was already 1 a.m., but because she isn’t… my friend. I met her less than month ago. I could count the shifts we worked together with the fingers of one hand. 

“XYZ street, 30”, I replied. “Be ready. in 10 minutes I’ll be there”.

I put on jeans, trainers, and pulled my hair in pony-tail. 

“I’m here”. 

I went out and jumped into her dark blue Ford. She wore red lipstick and fake eyelashes, leather mini-skirt and a jacket. What the hell?

– Girl,what’s up? You dressed up – I asked her. 

–  I feel so freaking bad, – she sighed resting her face on the steering wheel, – I cheated on my husband. We’d been together already for two years, – she let out a long breath.

– 2 years with whom?  – I asked. 

– With my love, of course. And I am married to my husband just for 3 years.

 – So you’ve been cheating on your husband for years and just now all of a suddend you felt bad? – I ask her.

– I feel bad because my love broke up with me. He dumped me! I don’t give a shit about my husband, – she muttered.

– Ugh…  Well… – That awkward moment when you can’t say what you really want to say and say what you just can.

– We had a holidays together, we’d been dating for 2 years! – she cried out desperately.

– Do you think he’ll come back? – She stared at me waiting for positive answer, – Do you think so?


No, no… I can’t judge anyone. Just thinking.

And I can’t get the thing: why does the woman stay with a husband if she doesn’t love him, doesn’t respect him, doesn’t appreciate him?….

Why the hell would you cheat on him for years? Why don’t you just leave and stop wasting your time and his time as well?

Hotel & Betrayal

Big city. Modern and stylish hotel. Weekend. Nice and cosy place for…?

That was my first 24-hours work shift as front desk clerk. That was the very beggining of real spring when the weather is sunny but still chilly and the air is satturated with the scent of rain and wet leaves.

The hotels often offer discount rates for weekend “getaways”. These “special prices”, “discounts”, “juicy packages” and etc. attract a lot of guests who come in the evening and stay just for few hours. After first evening booking call my co-worker Kate rolled her eyes and said to me: “Freaking Rabbits` night is getting started”…

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