Friday, 23 September 2011
02:03:40 AM (GMT)
I am so fucking ready to rip your big cocky head right off your fucking neck. You
inconsiderate, motherfucking, heartless monster. You have no respect for anyone but
yourself, and you fail to be what I have to live each and every single day calling
you. My father. You can't even fucking take care of a baby.
It's fucking nine forty five pm. I'm in my room, ordered by my "father". I heard my
little cousin crying, so I went upstairs with bunny ears on to try and get her to
calm down so she'll go to sleep. "Dad" found out I was upstairs, got mad, and sent me
to my room. My little cousin, Morgan, 1 year and 3.5 months, cries herself to sleep.
I don't want that. In fact, I hate it. Not for me, but for her. Her father, my
"dad's" brother, is almost no better a father to his children and step children. He
lets the four year old drink sips, even take little gulps of Mike's Hard Iced Tea and
Bud Light and whatever he drinks. He swears nastily and insults the older ones, his
step daughters and the three year old, his daughter and I want to punch him for it.
My "dad" is just an asshole. A huge fucking selfish asshole. He basically told me,
"That's what Morgan does. You're going to have to deal with it. Don't want to listen
to her? Shut the door. That's all. It doesn't bother me because you used to cry,
too." No "dad", it doesn't bother you because you could care less about your niece.
Fuck you. I'd make a better parent then you'll ever be.
Yes, that's what I think of you.
Yes, I'd love to move out. I don't fucking care where I go. But whatever I do, you
won't be part of it.
I'm like that cat lady on eHarmony only with my younger family. My little kids are my
life. I act as a second mother/older sister to the following kids in my family:
Emily, age 6; Ethan, age 9; Morgan and Benjamin, twins, 1 year, 3.5 months; Kendra, 3
or 4 years; Madison, 11 years; Rachel, 13 years. Even some of them aren't little
anymore. But if worst comes to worst, I want to be the one to take them in and
nurture them like a good parent should.
I'm glad that I know what I want to be when I grow up.
I'm glad I know I'm adopting a girl at age 7 when I'm 19, hopefully. If I make it
that far and I can scrape up the money for her and an apartment.
I'm glad that when I start a children's/teen's therapy program, I'll be the first one
they want to come to when things go sour.
I want to help kids like me; like Morgan. I hope Morgan never has to deal with people
like my "father" for as long as she lives.
So yeah. I'm so fucking ready to shut you out of my life.
I can't hear the crying anymore. When "dad" goes to bed, I'll check on her and make
sure she's sleeping.
I love you, Morgan. Don't forget it. I love all of you. And I'll always be here for