I’m Jason, 18 years old, and for years I’ve struggled with a nagging backache that only got worse. Determined to fix it, I took a part-time job and saved
every penny to buy a new mattress. Asking my parents for help wasn’t an option—they always put my younger half-sister Ashley and our foster
siblings first. For five long years, I felt invisible and overlooked, but I learned to cope—until one family dinner changed everything.That evening, just as we were about to eat, my new mattress arrived. When I went outside to get it, my mom exploded, demanding I return it to help
pay for Ashley’s car. Ashley joined her, calling me selfish. I stood firm, explaining how hard I’d worked for it and how much I needed a proper bed for
my back. The argument grew heated until my grandparents stepped in, shocked by my mom’s harshness.
