I don’t talk much about my sister. Honestly I think at one time we were close but the rift that ripped us apart when Mom died totaled the relationship....we didn’t talk much.
Yesterday she called me because she was having a bad day. We talked a little about the weather but as usual the conversation turned to our brothers. She had gone to see David and he was doing well - not that I care but he’s well into his 76 year prison sentence. He will die there or come out at 86 years old at this point. I’m hoping to be long dead so I don’t have to deal with him.
He murdered a girl on Mother’s Day. He deserved death. He murdered her in my truck, took it to a car wash and sprayed it out top to bottom and then brought it back and parked it in the yard. He knew what he did was wrong. We drove the truck for 8 months sitting in that girl’s blood. The police said if I had seen the luminal and the amount of blood spatter I would have been ill. The old truck that started with a screwdriver that everyone who needed it would borrow and bring back turned into a death pit for a stranger....I thought someone left the windows down and it rained inside but all along it was the the car wash he took it to that flooded the interior. I don’t care for him much - he made us parties to his murder. I have to wonder how much of that girl’s blood soaked into my jeans in the days and weeks that followed....Yes, I wonder how much bad karma I carried around with me every time I sat in the seat of that old truck. It bothers me.
In any case, my sister......
She told me how the younger murdering brother saved her life as a teenager.
I guess at 13 she had taken enough abuse. She was tired and worn out. So she got satan’s 9mm and put it under her pillow so she could commit suicide after everyone went to bed. I guess Dwight saw her and took the gun as she got ready for bed and hid it. He saved her from death.
She told me she definitely would have shot herself. I was shocked. I didn’t know she was willing to die to get away from the abuse. I was oblivious and in my own raging hell. I felt bad because I should have known. What would I have done had she died? It would have killed me.
She has a whole life I wasn’t a party to since I was kicked out with a 1 year old baby at 16. Suddenly all of the pressure and hell I had shielded them from came full force on her shoulders. Living that life took huge strong shoulders.
We did end the conversation with the agreement that our mother was as much to blame for the abuse. She had never admitted this before - the thing I knew. Our mother was weak. She was selfish. She didn’t save us because she knew that would entail having to raise four children alone and completely responsible- alone. So she basically sacrificed four children to Satan.
I’ve known this for years. I’m the realist. I see things for what they are. I see people for their actions rather than those fake words and acts for the public. She was a horrible mother who allowed her husband to abuse both herself and her children, pretended everything was perfect and then blamed us for not being perfect and causing all of the drama.
It was nice to hear her finally tell me she understood this. I’ve never felt able to say these things or to tell her the truth. She was broken and I tried not to hinder any healing she was able to do. But omg it felt good to discuss how much our mother contributed to our abuse! She was almost as demented in psychologically abusing us as much as Satan was for the physical. They made the perfect team for destroying their children.
Isn’t it funny how much I wanted her approval even after all of that? That I still tried to be perfect. That I tried to do everything possible to gain her love. Diane did the same. Always working to be perfect and beating ourselves up for making even the simplest mistake because that would kill her love for us. We were truly self destructive in our impossible quest to gain the love of a psychopath.
Yesterday she called me because she was having a bad day. We talked a little about the weather but as usual the conversation turned to our brothers. She had gone to see David and he was doing well - not that I care but he’s well into his 76 year prison sentence. He will die there or come out at 86 years old at this point. I’m hoping to be long dead so I don’t have to deal with him.
He murdered a girl on Mother’s Day. He deserved death. He murdered her in my truck, took it to a car wash and sprayed it out top to bottom and then brought it back and parked it in the yard. He knew what he did was wrong. We drove the truck for 8 months sitting in that girl’s blood. The police said if I had seen the luminal and the amount of blood spatter I would have been ill. The old truck that started with a screwdriver that everyone who needed it would borrow and bring back turned into a death pit for a stranger....I thought someone left the windows down and it rained inside but all along it was the the car wash he took it to that flooded the interior. I don’t care for him much - he made us parties to his murder. I have to wonder how much of that girl’s blood soaked into my jeans in the days and weeks that followed....Yes, I wonder how much bad karma I carried around with me every time I sat in the seat of that old truck. It bothers me.
In any case, my sister......
She told me how the younger murdering brother saved her life as a teenager.
I guess at 13 she had taken enough abuse. She was tired and worn out. So she got satan’s 9mm and put it under her pillow so she could commit suicide after everyone went to bed. I guess Dwight saw her and took the gun as she got ready for bed and hid it. He saved her from death.
She told me she definitely would have shot herself. I was shocked. I didn’t know she was willing to die to get away from the abuse. I was oblivious and in my own raging hell. I felt bad because I should have known. What would I have done had she died? It would have killed me.
She has a whole life I wasn’t a party to since I was kicked out with a 1 year old baby at 16. Suddenly all of the pressure and hell I had shielded them from came full force on her shoulders. Living that life took huge strong shoulders.
We did end the conversation with the agreement that our mother was as much to blame for the abuse. She had never admitted this before - the thing I knew. Our mother was weak. She was selfish. She didn’t save us because she knew that would entail having to raise four children alone and completely responsible- alone. So she basically sacrificed four children to Satan.
I’ve known this for years. I’m the realist. I see things for what they are. I see people for their actions rather than those fake words and acts for the public. She was a horrible mother who allowed her husband to abuse both herself and her children, pretended everything was perfect and then blamed us for not being perfect and causing all of the drama.
It was nice to hear her finally tell me she understood this. I’ve never felt able to say these things or to tell her the truth. She was broken and I tried not to hinder any healing she was able to do. But omg it felt good to discuss how much our mother contributed to our abuse! She was almost as demented in psychologically abusing us as much as Satan was for the physical. They made the perfect team for destroying their children.
Isn’t it funny how much I wanted her approval even after all of that? That I still tried to be perfect. That I tried to do everything possible to gain her love. Diane did the same. Always working to be perfect and beating ourselves up for making even the simplest mistake because that would kill her love for us. We were truly self destructive in our impossible quest to gain the love of a psychopath.
