I should take advice

Collette said don't do it. Steve said don't do it. But as I stood in her bedroom and stared at the mess on the floors tops and bed, I was worried we'd get rats next. The bits of food, dirty clothes and empty bottles on the floor.
Abby's bedroom or the pit as it's (lovingly) known.
I took some stuff out of the large Christmas sack blocking the door. Its was a tee-shirt from a loving member of the family. I remembered an argument we had yesterday when she 'didn't have anything to wear'.
So I cleaned it out. I filled one and a half black bags full of rubbish.
When she came home, she went upstairs. 'Where's my stuff'?, she griped. I told her I'd cleaned it up and if I ever found it so awful again she'd go live with her father.
Wrong thing to say. She went loopy. Asked for a suitcase. 'Fine, I'll go' She sobbed.
I explained that she'd been really hard work for a number of weeks now and frankly didn't help at all. 'I washed up' she said indignantly. Yes I told her, about three weeks ago!
I asked her to offer to do stuff more. 'You think I'm a mug?' she retorted.
I told her to be more like her sister when it came to helping. 'Well get another Danielle' She bitched 'Clone her'.
Then she crumpled a bit and said she didn't want to upset me. She'd try more and vacuum her bedroom after she did her homework.
I bet she thinks her life sucks.
Away from teenage traumas I went to the gym today. Only managed 10 lengths but it was ok. Spoke to a few people. There's a girl who works there called Kerry whose so friendly and lovely. She cheered me up saying the summer's coming and all the male workers have to wear shorts. Roll on the sun I say!