spoilt brat

 After a month of living between London and my new "home", I packed my bags and left the flat in Vauxhall. 

That night I checked the flights to Poland. 21 quid next Friday, tempting.. but I fell asleep hoping that everything would be fine. 5am the alarm went nuts and one hour later the boy woke up even though it's half term and the school starts next week. With my eyes swollen as if I was fighting all night (wasn't I?), I went downstairs at 7:45am, where I found the boy and his mom. I guess she said something like "be nice to her" in Chinese so he played a nice little chap and made me an apple tea. He chopped the bloody apples with the butter knife as he's too young to use the sharp knife, but old enough for his tongue to be sharp like a sword. We played one round of chess and then the devil showed up again: video games, all he wants to do is to play these stupid video games. But first things first: homework. I had to beg him for one hour until he was clearly in agony, almost crying over one page of a text and some math work. All he had in his head was to play video game that literally possessed him so he couldn't think of anything else. 9 years old monster who looked at me as if he was ready to kill. I was the bad one letting him work on his holidays. All the blame on me. All the bad words and lies turned into argument that left me no choice: I raised my voice calling him a spoilt brat, and spoke faster than my thought process let me in the foreign language. He burst into tears and run to his room. I was sure it was over and she was going to fire me. 

After dinner she asked if I'd like to stay until March. Will I?