My mom divorced my dad some time ago...My brother was six...
the repressed memories uncorked later...and I decided not to tell
my brother so that my brother could have some vague excuse of an actual
dad.
Trust me it's been a vague excuse.
But anyway, I did finally attempt to tell my brother...and he said
that first, he really didn't want to know...but that he didn't really
like or respect dad anyway. I replied...after thought "Ok....But you
and ______ are trying to have kids.You need to know that if you have a
girl don't leave her alone with him."
....Today, my mom called me to warn me my father was at the house so I would not stop by. Ok, cool.
So then she started rambling about my dad's dilapidated car, and I
said, "Mom, I've got a giant grin on my face as I'm imagining myself
stabbing him repeatedly. The thought of killing him makes me really
happy. I would love to be able to kill him and am really, really
looking forward to his death."
Mom kind of got off the phone after that...
Yanno, I really enjoy hating him sooo much..
I go by Hylierandom. This is a blog about my life. Which might actually be getting better. Some of the posts are going to be really sad and triggery though. Guaranteed to contain lots of brain flakes, which are really nutritious and will help you go to the toilet easily.
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