So yesterday morning my brother’s wife apparently gave her daughter a stern talking-to about messing around in my stuff, which of course resulted in a sulking and petulant teen. And she thought I must be a total idiot (she’s not aware that I take pictures of her misdemeanours) because she went right back and fiddled.
It’s less obvious than the previous day, except…
I was sitting on my bed rubbing my hair dry when something on her desk caught my eye. A little box. A little box I keep at the back of my drawer. Inside my little box there’s a tiny fairy pendant with a round amber stone. I bought it last year at the African Mineral and Gem exhibition in Brooklyn Mall. It cost me R120 – the price was still floating on the soft cotton the pendant lays. When I opened the box, all is as I had it, except for a piece of paper from a plaster. I closed it, and waited.
When my brother came home I said I wanted to show him something. He went very quiet after I told him the box’s history, and told me to put it back in my drawer. He then offered to give me a cupboard where I can lock my stuff up. This is not a solution for me, because it means that I’m going through the hassle of locking up and fetching out my stuff everyday, while she’s getting away with being an insolent little bitch.
Then her mother came and “gave me permission” to confront her the next time she messes in my stuff. I said thanks, but thought to myself, if she has no regard for any kind of discipline her parents try to impose (when they can be bothered to), why would she pay any mind to anything I have to say. The only thing that might break her is carrying on with my daily pictures, confronting her every single day if that’s what it comes down to, showing her that she’s not as cunning as she thinks she is.