Fuller - Trash An Innocent Girl A Shocking Story of Squalor and Neglect

CONTENTS

My mother is a trash hoarder. Ever since I can remember the house was always messy and stunk. My space was a single stool in the corner of the living room. I kept that corner as clean as I could. It never seemed to matter though, eventually that spot would get overrun with trash too...

When Britney was four years old, she realised her home life was very different from that of her friends. This is her shocking account of growing up with an extreme hoarder for a mother and how she finally made her escape from a life of neglect and unbearable squalor.

Britney Fuller is a new mother, writer, and traveller. She lives in Texas with her beautiful son and wonderful fiance.

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Version 1.0

Epub ISBN 9780753550649

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Virgin Books, an imprint of Ebury Publishing
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Virgin Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at: global.penguinrandomhouse.com

Copyright Britney Fuller 2014

Britney Fuller has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

First published in the United Kingdom in 2014 by Virgin Books

www.eburypublishing.co.uk

ISBN: 9780753555590

We were going to be late. I was searching for my right shoe and Mom was looking for a work shirt. It was 5 a.m. and I was exhausted. Every morning was like this something was always missing.

Britney, weve only got thirty minutes before I have to be at work, and I still need to drop you off at the babysitters house. Get off your ass and find your shoe, yelled my mom, while tearing through the laundry room downstairs.

I traipsed back upstairs and started looking around. Id found my left shoe by the couch in the living room. The other one should be somewhere nearby. Where was it?

You couldnt see the floor in my house. I had to wade through piles of garbage, stacks of newspapers and mountains of soda bottles to find anything. I sifted through the trash, but I still couldnt find my shoe.

I peered under the couch maybe it got kicked under there? Nope, just some dishes, a doll I didnt play with anymore, some clothes and spider webs. I got up and kicked some of the garbage to the side of the couch to clear some space. Cool, there was the headband I lost a while ago. I picked it up and went to the bathroom to see how it looked on me.

I was too short to see myself in the mirror, so I climbed onto the edge of the tub. Wobbling, I grabbed the headband off the sink. Eww, some of the dried toothpaste on the sink was now stuck to the headband. I licked my thumb and tried wiping if off, but it was hopeless. The toothpaste had left a thick white smear.

Weve got twenty-five minutes. You better be ready when I find my shirt, or youre going to get spanked, yelled Mom.

I nervously leapt down from the side of the bath. I didnt like spankings. I got one for every year old I was. That meant four spankings this time. Mom always liked to remind me on my birthday: Britney, you better be good this year. I can give you four spankings now.

I scurried to the kitchen. Squeezing between the counter and the pile of trash in the doorway, I spotted part of a shoe under some food wrappers. I plucked it out from the trash, but it was not the one I needed. I tossed it back onto the kitchen floor, and continued my search.

I lifted up the bag of trash we had started filling yesterday maybe my shoe is under there? Yuk, a brown fluid that smelled like death dribbled out. Thank goodness my shoe isnt under there.

I headed to Moms room. On the way, I popped my head around the door of my bedroom. No luck. There was just some paper, a few books and my bedroom furniture.

I went into Moms room. Thats where I slept too. I shared a bed with my mom because I was afraid to be alone with the rubbish. I was afraid of the scratching and the squeaking noises that would start in the middle of the night, and get closer and closer. At least I had my mom to protect me if I slept with her.

There was a lot more rubbish in Moms room though. There was only a clear foot of space between the door and her bed; the rest of the room was covered in stinky rubbish and dirty dishes piled as high as my waist. The mattress had slid off its frame and was being held up by the trash underneath. I checked in the gap where the mattress should have been, but there were only a few soda bottles, some stained clothes and Blondie my stuffed dog. I sat on the edge of the mattress and tried to remember what I did when I got home the previous night. I ate dinner, watched TV in the living room, played with Blondie, gathered dirty laundry

That must be it! My shoe had to be in the dirty clothes pile. I jumped from the bed to the doorway and started ripping through the pile of clothes in front of the bathroom door.

I could hear the steps moaning under my moms feet, as she clomped up the stairs.

I found my shirt, are you ready to go? she shouted.

Yes, I lied, desperately sifting through the dirty pile.

My heart pounded in my ears, and sweat dribbled down my brow. I didnt want to get spanked. I tossed the pair of trousers I had worn yesterday to the side and heard a hollow thud. Maybe my shoe is caught in my trouser leg?

The stair door swung open, smacking against the wall. Her big belly swung back and forth in her work trousers. She had a scowl on her face. Her eyebrows were furrowed, as usual, and her lips were pursed. She had a stone-cold look in her eyes.

All right kiddo, head to the car, I just have to grab my purse.

I found my shoe, lodged in the leg, just in time. I yanked it out and quickly put it on. My mom headed to the living room, where her purse was perched on the arm of the couch, while I made my way downstairs to the basement.

I waited on the stairs our basement was scary, I didnt like being down there alone. Mom was at the top of the stairs, and started to make her way down. I waited for her and, when it was safe, I joined her walking through the laundry room to the garage.

All of our clothes were in piles on the floor as we didnt have wardrobes and drawers for them. In the winter, or on rainy days, our clothes got dirty because we had to walk over the piles with muddy feet. The washing machine must have been leaking again because every step I took was squishy. I didnt like it when the washer leaked. My clothes stank, and the whole house smelt like a wet dog.

I had to be careful when getting in the car. I sat in the front seat since there was never room in the back. The seats were buried under McDonalds bags, soda bottles, clothes and a bunch of other mouldy containers.

I fought for some leg space. I stirred the soda bottles and trash with my feet until I was comfortable. Mom opened the garage door, and we headed off to the babysitters house.