Development: Creative Nonfiction Assignment

4. I had just been thinking about how nice it was of my step-mother to do my laundry for me. I, of course, had to fold it myself, but that was to be expected. It wasn't as though I exactly wanted her folding my underwear or anything, anyway. She'd given my my clean, dry laundry in a basket, still smelling like it had just come out of the wash. That clean clothes smell that only seems to last while the clothes are still warm from the dryer. I folded and put away all of my laundry, and noticed that there were a couple of towels in the basket that didn't belong to me. I folded those, too, and due to the fact that I wasn't on the best of terms with my step-mother, I didn't want to ask her where to put them. I did not have a good relationship with my biological father or my step mother, and I avoided talking to them as much as possible. At eight years old, I'd say I was pretty mature for my age. My thoughts on the towels and what to do with them, I eventually ended up putting them right next to the door to my bedroom, in the hallway, touching the baseboard. I imagined she would see them and pick them up and put them where they belonged. I returned to my previous activity, reading the newest Harry Potter book, and soon heard this awful, banshee-esque screeching coming from the hallway.

"WHO PUT THESE TOWELS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALLWAY?!?!?" my step-mother yelled, most likely knowing full well how they had gotten where they were.
"Well, it was me, but they're not in the middle of the hallway, they're-"
"THEY ARE DEFINITELY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALLWAY, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD PUT THESE THERE...IF YOU THOUGHT I WAS A WICKED STEP-MOTHER BEFORE, YOU AIN'T SEEN NOTHIN' YET, LITTLE GIRL, YOU AIN'T SEEN NOTHIN' YET!"

I slammed the door and retreated back into my room, huge heaving sobs I was unable to suppress now coming out at full force. 

5. This was an interesting scene to write. I made up one line of dialogue that I couldn't remember, which to me felt very weird. If I'm writing a nonfiction piece, it feels very odd to be making up details that may not be true. The general gist of it is very true, however, and that last line of dialogue from my step-mother (beginning with "if you thought") is exactly, word for word, what was said. I will never be able to forget those words. It bothers me a little bit as a writer because it sounds like such a lame and cliche phrase that I would never use by choice, but it is exactly what was said, and I think if I can remember exact details, I should use them.