It's been a week since I visited the orphanage and updated my last article on my blog. I'm not surprised that there are over 1,000 comments below, what I wasn't expecting was that many of my readers asked me how they could donate children's books, toys or whatever the kids might need. So Joy, Lesley and I decided take the bakery as a temporary stadium to collect donations across the country. We received over 100 teddy bears and now we have to share what we got with the other local orphanages. As the grumpy teenage girl at the orphanage told me, it's really cool to be a journalist, but way better than I thought it would be.
I'm having oat milk and a piece of whole wheat bread from Joy's bakery at 7:00 in the morning. In theory, multitasking is a bad idea, but I don't have much time left to read these comments. After breakfast, I'll head over to Joy's Bakery to sort the supplies with community volunteers, so I can skim the comments while chewing on my healthy whole wheat bread. Suddenly, a troll's comment catches my eye and pisses me off:
"Is that teenage girl you hugged good-looking and hot? I hope she's the type I want to have sex with. By the way, those little cuties look delicious. I'll take care of her, too."
As a journalist, I've gotten used to being criticized and ridiculed. No matter what kind of in-depth report I write and how many positive comments I get, there is always a negative voice trying to smash you anyway. I've been immune to this kind of meaningless messages for years, but this disgusting psychopathic comment makes my blood boil! I want to pull him out of the screen and punch him in the face! Now I'm hell-bent on fighting this guy. I'm going to show him what I've got!
I pick up my phone and search for the number of my ex-colleagues. We were just like a group of wonder women who crushed many hypocritical celebrities without any substantial weapons. I know they can give me very useful advice on how to kick this jerk's ass! Suddenly the phone rings. I jump out of my chair and scream like a crazy woman. The phone almost falls out of my hand. It's Joy. I press the green button and hold the phone to my right ear.
"You can't come up with a good idea when you're controlled by anger." Joy says, as if she's set up an internal monitor in me. I'm used to her reading my mind when I'm in front of her, but this time I'm definitely surprised.
"Come about the bakery now. I know what's bothering you." Joy is like a mysterious sorcerer in the Middle Ages who can read my mind without a crystal ball.
On my way to the bakery, I'm like a charging bull walking down the street, the bull shit comment is an invisible knife sticking in my back. I don't care about anything in the world right now. All I care about right now is how can I find a way to knock that bastard down. Suddenly, a man opens the door to Joy's bakery and I slam into the glass. I cover my nose and tears fall from my eyes. Oh, man! How painful it is!
"I'm sorry, are you okay? Lady, are you okay?" the man puts his boxes on the floor and asks me worriedly.
"I'm...I'm okay...damn it...it hurts..." I hope I didn't curse too loudly for the guy to hear.
"Oh, you poor thing, Betty. Tom, take her to the staff room. I'll get her some ice." Betty pats the man on the shoulder and then rushes into the bakery.
Tom leads me to the couch in the staff room. I'm so embarrassed that I didn't even notice the door opening because I was so caught up in my anger.
"Are you feeling better? Betty? My vision was blocked when I was holding the boxes. I'm sorry I didn't see you coming."
"I'm much better now. Thank you. Tom. It's not your fault. I was so upset about the obscene comment on my blog that I didn't notice the door opening." Tom listens carefully as I explain why I bumped into the door like an idiot.
YOU ARE READING
The Old Lady Next Door
SpiritualBetty struggles with her life. She has been moved to a smaller apartment in the country for financial reasons, but little does she know that the mysterious old lady next door will open the door of her heart and change her life.
