Teens in Beating Video of Girl in FL (Pt Deux)
This is a response that was posted on the Star Telegram’s Crime Time Blog</a> concerning the Victoria Lindsay.
http://startelegram.typepad.com/crime_time/2008/04/teens-in-videot.html
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Giving these girls life in prison would be a crime in itself. By not letting them get an education and putting them in adult prison, socitey is just insuring they will become harden criminals. I have been in plenty of fights in my day, and I’ve won some and I’ve lost some. That’s just life. What has the world come to if you can’t even defend your name and reputation? I don’t feel sorry for the girl who got beat up, even though I’ve been in her shoes before. If you’re going to talk smack about people, be woman enough to stand up for yourself and FIGHT BACK! This girl probabily never got a woopin’ and had everything handed to her, that’s why she went home and cried to mommy untill she called the cops. When I came home all beat up when I was 13, my mom just told me not to pick fights with people bigger then me! That’s the country way, that’s the american way!
Posted by: TheGoodLife | April 11, 2008 at 05:27 PM
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All right, so…you have to know that I can’t keep my mouth shut, if you might not have figured that out by now. And since this is my blog, I can be as filthy mouthed as I want to be. I can have as many violent and anger fueled comments as I’d like. Why? Because this is where I get it all out, so I’m not spewing forth truck loads of anger and hate at all of the ignorant and inconsiderate assholes in the world.
I say the things you always wished you could….
So, on that note, allow me to respond to “The Good Life” they way I would initially have.
“Firstly, let me assure you, that if you’d gotten your ass beat by 6 people –after- being knocked unconscious and sustaining a head wound, you probably would have gone home crying to your mother as well. Secondly, just because someone has a pacifist nature when it comes to physical violence, does not mean that they were given everything their whole lives. My little sister would never hit another person, she’s not the least bit physically violent, and though being a pacifist has it’s benefits, obviously has its downfalls as well. Some people just do not have it in themselves to be violent.
The nature of your attitude is atrocious, and fueled by nothing more than blatant ignorance and your obvious “ghetto” upbringing. How do I know? Let me tell you a story.
Less than a year ago I had the unfortunate experience of living at the Wyndham Point Apartments in Woodhaven, in DFW. Yes, that’s right. White girl with and education lived in Woodhaven. And across the breezeway lived a woman with two children. An 8 year old little girl, and a 4 year old little boy. Now the little boy was a handful, that was for sure, but kind and good natured. In fact I don’t ever remember this child being cruel to anyone. Now, below my apartment lived a woman with an 11 year old little girl, who as far as I could see, needed as ass whipping three times a day, just to remind her that she was only 11 years old and able to be subjected to discipline a the whim of the adults her in her life.
Sometimes, children think they’re adults, and they believe it is within their right to make adult decisions, it’s our job as parents to provide our children with an environment where they can be …kids.
Well, the aforementioned little boy decided to go outside and play, there were a group of girl, including the one spoken of earlier, who happens to always be the ring leader. A water mane had broke, and the kids were playing around the water. The boy, being a boy, splashed the girls in jest, and in return, all 4 little girls threw the little boy, who was at least 4 years younger than all of them, to the ground and proceeded to kick him in the ribs, the face, the hips, the legs, the head…punching and hitting him, until he was able to get away and run home.
When his mother confronted the little girl’s mother, the woman’s response was thus: “If he can throw a lick, he can take a lick.”
Imagine the way my head began to spin off of my shoulders when the woman said this, knowing I have a four year old daughter in the house at the time of it all.
This is the mentality we’re dealing with in the world, beat or be beaten. Never mind that the law that governs our society, should be the law that governs our homes. Those young adults, who hurt Victoria Lindsay, they were not 8, 9, 10, 11 year old children. One of them is 18 years old, a couple of them 16, 15, 14 being the youngest. When I was fourteen years old, I knew that if I participated in a gang style beating, that my ass was going to jail. That was that.
I knew the laws, society lays them out pretty plainly, and complete disregard for another human being is not a good enough excuse to walk away from what they’ve done, unscathed, untouched, society telling them, by lack of action, that they are allowed to bully and threaten, to hit and beat on anyone they please, using their innocence and naivety as some kind of excuse because of their age? No, absolutely not, under no circumstances should that be admissible as a form of defense against their treachery.
These children obviously need rehabilitation, and a little taste of their own medicine, of which can be found at a local Juvenile facility or even a Jail, hell as far as I’m concerned, take away their freedom and throw their mean little asses in prison. But keep them off of the street. We don’t need people like these teenagers running around, who have no regard for human life, whatsoever. And I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen, those little girls are going to pick on the wrong person, with an older brother or sister, hell even a younger brother or sister, who isn’t going to take that shit lying down, and they’re going to find themselves in a world of pain.
That’s not how it should be, a person shouldn’t have to retaliate through violent means, they should be able to rely on the justice system, and the parental guidance of the young adults at fault, but unfortunately, people like “A Good Life” would never punish their child for committing such a crime. They would reward their poor and horrific behavior, just as the lady who lived down stairs from be, rewarded her daughter for beating on a child half her size and age. Who are you going to reward, when she shoots her mouth off to the wrong person. When she picks on someone who isn’t going to take her shit? What then? What if she’s the last shove over the edge of a cliff of anger and retaliation with the next student, and that victim comes to School and pulls a Columbine? Will you reward the person who finally stood up for themselves and put a bullet between your child’s eyes? Because no matter how much your child may be able to defend themselves, fight back, pick on or be cruel to another person. They don’t stand a chance against a gun with an angry, over the edge child who’s pulling the trigger.
What then? Who’s going to take responsibility in this chain of violence? Who’s going to end it and how is going to be ended? These are questions that should be asked, these are the questions we should be seeking answers for, solutions to.
So until you can be part of the solution, and stop adding to the problem with your ignorance, shut the fuck up.
Miss “I’m so very delicate” Fayne
All Around the Mullberry Bush….
Personal Update…
Well, today will either make, or break my relationship ties with Bobby’s side of the family. Who is Bobby, you ask? Bobby is Jacksyn’s father, the first man I fell in love with, who I will never fall in love with again. Maybe I’ll talk about Bobby another time, for now just know that it didn’t end well, any of the times in the 8 years we were together.
However, his mother and I have a special relationship. For the last 6 years we have been building on each other over the phone, and in email, trying to create something we can last with. Bobby’s current wife, despite the fact that I hate to admit it, has helped with our relationship some. When Donna (Bobby’s mom) realized what he lost, in comparison to what he’d gained (Rochelle), she began to understand why I left to begin with, or at least became a little more clear on it.
So for the first time in 6 years I will see her today, and she will see the little girl she fell in love with (Vaiy), and the grandson she’s never met. Her son’s oldest child and only boy.
I’m excited, horrifically nervous and a little irritated. Funds aren’t what I wanted them to be, and I don’t really know how to explain to her how broke we are, but I’m sure she won’t mind, she knows what it’s like to be a young parent with limited funds. What I’m concerned about is her reaction to me, not the kids, to me. Will she silently scrutinize the way I’ve raised them? How I look? The weight I’ve lost and gained? The length of my hair or my make up?
Will she be able to be honest with me in my own home or will she lie to satiate my need for acceptance and to keep the visit as nice as possible?
I want to ask her about Bobby, but more importantly, I want to ask her about herself. Take this time to really get to know her better than I ever thought I would. I spent so long believing that she disliked me, that I’m elated at the fact that she wants to spend time with the children and I. More importantly, she wants to spend time with the children.
In the face of everything that happened in WA between my egg donor and myself, it’s wonderful to know that someone aside from my God-Parents value my children as if they were biologically theirs (Vaiy).
I guess more than anything, I want to experience that ‘sisterhood’ with her that mothers are supposed to have, like what Magnolia and I have, and Beck and I have. I want to be her peer, not the same young, scared woman who she met in 2002.
Well, here’s to a really interesting night and an even more interesting weekend.
Wish me Luck,
Miss Fayne
Teens in beating video of girl in FL.
Report: Teens in beating video of girl to be charged as adults
Reports out of Florida indicate that the teenagers accused in the videotaped attack on another girl will be charged as adults.
According to WFTV.com, Mercades Nichols, 17, Brittini Hardcastle, 17, and Britney Mayes, 17, face charges of felonious battery, false imprisonment and kidnapping in connection with the attack. Cara Murphy, 16, Kayla Hassell, 15, April Cooper, 14, Zachary Ashley, 17, and Stephen Schumaker, 18, face charges of felonious battery and false imprisonment.
Victoria Lindsay, 16, was beaten on March 30 by six girls after she arrived at a friend’s home, according to police.
– Lance Murray
Have any of you actually seen the video associated with this? It’s horrifying. Every inch of my body grew tense and all I could see myself doing was whipping some teenage ass. It’s a good thing that it wasn’t my daughter they were beating on, because despite the fact that I’m a very law abiding person, I’d have no problem taking my 5’3” self over to their homes and whipping some asses. I’ll take them all at once, or one at a time, doesn’t matter one way or the other.
I cannot believe that they were stupid enough to think they could post something like that and get away with it. I can’t believe that they would be so cruel to a single person and get so much enjoyment out of what they’ve done. And you know what really pisses me off, what makes it worse? The only reason they’re going to apologize, is because they got caught, not because they feel true remorse for what they’ve done.
It’s disgusting, immoral and flat out dishonorable behavior. For a group of young adults who were so concerned about slander on the internet; about their good name being drug through the dirt, it’s amazes me that they never realized what was going to happen when they were caught. Did they believe that the girl wasn’t going to say anything? Had they even considered the repercussions of their actions? I can’t image that they did, and what makes it worse, the girl will continue to pay for their behavior for the rest of her life. So why shouldn’t they have to pay for their behavior as well?
25% of all teen suicides in the United States are due to bullying from classmates, ranging from the ages of 11 and up. Could you imagine coming home to your 11 year old child hanging from your upstairs banister with a jump rope around their neck? Either can I, but I have seen enough suicide in my life, experienced enough death by people close to me to know that it happens more often than it should. These young adults are despicable, and more so for the fact that they knew what they were doing was wrong.
When you’re a child, you’re punished for striking out and hitting, in fact most kids receive spankings or some sort of corporal punishment when they inflict physical harm on others. When I was 14 years old I was aware that fighting at school would get me suspended, in fact it did, despite the fact that I was defending myself. I was informed by my then guardian that I was only to hit if I was defending myself, never to throw the first punch. Now it’s no lie that I’m aggressive, but I never hit first, in fact I’ll even take a little abuse before my button is depressed too many times and I finally just lose my cool, but watching that young girl…she didn’t have a button, she took it, and took it, begged to leave, gestured her confusion with her hands in the air. She surrendered so many times during her beating, waved that white flag and never once through out it was there a real reprieve.
They had a chance to show mercy and they refused.
How dare you? How dare you take something as sacred as the power over another person and abuse them that way?
The Goddess help my beautiful children if I ever find out they’ve done something so cruel to another person. The Goddess help my loving son and my gentle daughter, because I will take them out back, and beat them until they bleed, and then I will hand them over to the proper authorities. Because I will know, in my heart that I have taught them better than that, and the decision to hurt someone in such a way, over a few retarded comments on myspace.com is not worth nearly ending a person’s life.
But more so than that, Goddess help the poor little fuckers who ever lay their hands on my children, for when I’m done with my swift justice on them, I will locate their parents, and deliver my justice upon them as well. There is no quicker way in this world to make an enemy of me, than to treat my children as if they are less that everything. They may not be your everything, but they are mine, and you will respect that or you will pay.
I pray for that little girl, I would love nothing more than to wrap my arms around her and protect her the way she deserves to be protected. Love her and reassure her that the world is not as cruel everyday as those girls were to her. But right now, she’s lying in a hospital, eyes blurred, ears fuzzy, concussions and swollen face, paying for speaking her mind.
Well, assholes, I’m speaking my mind now…what the fuck are you going to do to me?
Miss Fayne
PS. The Star Telegram published my response to their Crime Blog, read it here :
http://startelegram.typepad.com/crime_time/2008/04/report-teen-gir.html
Busy Weekend….
So, I know this is my first post in a while, but this weekend brought on quite a busy time.
I woke up late on Saturday morning, about 9:20 ish. Being late, always pisses me off, ask anyone who knows me. There’s never a more surly person in the world to deal with than a tired, pissed off Faynie. I don’t mean to be, yanno? I don’t wake up with the intention of being the world’s biggest bitch, it just…happens.
And because being late wasn’t enough, my 4 year old Fashion Lad decided in all of his infinite glory, that he had to use the bathroom. Which is fine. He’s been potty trained for over a year, hasn’t wet the bed in over a year, but being lazy runs on his father’s side of the family. So instead of walking the 8 feet from this sister’s room to the bathroom, he decides to whip it out and piss on the fucking floor.
Can you believe this shit? I about died. And only because I was so angry, did I forgo the ass whipping that he should have gotten. I try very hard to make it a point not to spank or administer corporal discipline when I’m angry; I like to stay in control.
So I start going through the house, finding my pants, and shoes, pulling my hair back, putting a little make up on so I don’t scare my new Dancer Instructor, that sort of thing, only to discover that Beck and I have no idea where most of the Faire clothes were at. See, we had a busy schedule planned, Dance Class, come home, pick up family go to Faire. Well, after about 25 minutes of being a bitch to everyone in the house, a lot of yelling and raised voices, I decide its time to go.
I get to Belly Dancing class, first one of the beginner’s course and at first, I won’t lie, I was a little terrified. Firstly, I’m the biggest girl in my class, but by far one of the cutest, and secondly, I don’t know a single person. Anyone who knows me can attest that I do best when I have at least one person to lean on as a pillar of support when it comes to new activities. But I have to say that it’s nice to have something that’s all my own, away from the family a little bit. After a vigorous work out with Ms. Isis, I left for home in a much better mood. Seemed as though I perspired out all of my negativity. I even brought Beck an energy drink and some Smart Food as a way of apologizing.
We decided after a strenuous search of clothing, that it was too late to go to Faire and that we’d just have to go Sunday, which was fine. So instead, we decided to clean up the yard. Beckah mowed the front, I trimmed the hedges, and then I mowed the back while she cleaned up the clippings and played with the kids to keep them from getting under foot. Later that day we decided that BBQ was a great idea for supper.
The Landlords came over to get the rest of their stuff from the garage, as they bickered between themselves, and I called Magnolia that evening, invited her over for beer and BBQ. It was nice, the kids were a little over excited, but they managed not to kill each other, which works for me.
At the end of the evening, Maggie and TT left for home, and we finally settled in. The next morning came and we were up around 10 and started getting ready for fair. It was nice to be able to just laze around for a while. Unfortunately I seemed to have lost my Black Corset, much to my despair.
We went, we saw, we were bored. I know it’s horrid, but firstly Faire just isn’t Faire without Maggie. And Secondly, things just seemed…boring. It’s hard having the kids there, and dealing with the heat and all of those layers and no booze, but…all the same, we usually found a way to have fun. Not this time. We stayed for about three hours and then took off for home. It just wasn’t our day. Not to mention we were seriously tired and sore from the day before, so that didn’t help either.
Got home, did a little cleaning, put some stuff away and BBQ’d steaks, and made fried potatoes, Connor an I ate mashed sweet potatoes cause we rock. The weekend was pretty busy, which I was grateful for. But I still seem to be exhausted, for what it’s worth, all of this medication is kicking my ass, the cancer is kicking my ass, the long days are kicking my ass…I’m even having a hard time catching my second wind.
And to boot? Bobby (Jacksyn’s Father)’s Mom is coming out to spend the weekend with the kids and I, in from GA. I’m fluttering around, trying to make sure that everything’s perfect, which of course it’ll never be good enough for me, and she just wants to spend time with the kids. It’s crazy.
B and I have decided not to do Faire this weekend, lack of funds and money doesn’t help. So I think I’ll just go ahead and offer up my free tickets on Myspace and see if anyone wants them. No use in them going to waist since this is the last weekend they can be used.
Anyway, I’ll post more soon.
Love to you,
Miss Fayne
Prison Sex Change? WTF?
BOSTON, Massachusetts (AP) – The new commissioner of the state’s prison system said Tuesday he plans to re-examine the case of a convicted killer suing the Department of Correction to try to get a sex-change operation.
Prison officials have strenuously opposed a request from Michelle Kosilek to have the surgery, saying it could make her a target for sexual assault by other inmates.
But Department of Correction Commissioner Harold Clarke, who took over the department in November, said he has not decided whether to continue to fight Kosilek’s request.
“I need to take a look at the information presented before I arrived, and with a fresh set of eyes, closely scrutinize it,” Clarke said after a status hearing on Kosilek’s federal lawsuit.
Robert Kosilek was sentenced to life in prison for murdering his wife, Cheryl, in 1990. Kosilek legally changed her name to Michelle in 1993 and has been living as a woman in an all-male prison in Norfolk.
Kosilek first sued the Department of Correction in 2000, claiming its refusal to pay for a sex-change operation violates her Eighth Amendment right against cruel and unusual punishment.
In 2002, U.S. District Judge Mark Wolf ruled that prison officials had failed to adequately treat Kosilek’s gender identity disorder, but stopped short of ordering the state to allow the sex-change operation. Wolf found the Department of Correction had not violated Kosilek’s Eighth Amendment rights because Kosilek did not prove that the correction commissioner had shown “deliberate indifference” to Kosilek’s medical needs.
Kosilek, 58, sued again in 2005, saying the hormone treatments, laser hair removal and psychotherapy she has received since Wolf’s 2002 ruling were not enough to relieve her anxiety and depression.
For the last year, Wolf has been weighing whether to order the correction department to allow the surgery. Several medical experts who testified for Kosilek, as well as several doctors retained by the correction department’s health provider, said they believe the surgery is medically necessary for Kosilek, who has twice tried to commit suicide in prison. But other experts hired by the correction department said Kosilek does not need the surgery.
Kosilek’s request was strenuously opposed by Clarke’s predecessor, Kathleen Dennehy, an appointee of Republican former Gov. Mitt Romney. Romney’s successor, Gov. Deval Patrick, appointed Clarke.
Wolf ordered Clarke to attend Tuesday’s hearing after Kosilek’s attorneys said they wanted to hear Clarke’s position on the case. He is scheduled to testify May 12.
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Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously. You murder your fucking wife, decide to go transgender, and now you’re whining cause you’re depressed? Yes, fucker, you’re depressed because you killed your wife, were caught and now your skank ass is rotting away in jail!
This is so fucking infuriating to me. I can’t believe he actually thinks he has a right to make the tax payers pay for his operation. There are thousands of trans gender youth in the world, in the US alone who are law abiding citezens, who are working hard to save up the money for their operation. I don’t care of you’re a man, wanting to be a woman, or a woman wanting to be a man. I believe that everyone should have the freedom to express themselves, sexually or otherwise, but you lose those rights when you’re sitting in your cell.
You should have thought about that before you murdered your wife. You should have considered all of this before you became a convicted felon. You’ve lost your right to bear arms, to vote, to leave the country…but you think you have the right to ask the Government in a time of economic crisis, for upwards of 100, 000 dollars to have a surgery that isn’t really even done in the United States on a regular basis. Do you even have a clue what kind of pain you’re going to be in?
Let me enlighten you, fucker. Having breasts hurts, no matter how pretty they make look in that new Vicky Secret’s bra, or how much you’re going to like to fondle them, I can garauntee that Bubba, your cellie is going to like fondling them too. And let’s not forget the hormone treatments, and though you may never have a period, you’re going to have a vagina. It’ll start really small, like a child, and you’ll be forced to shove things inside of it, spreaders, in order to make it normal….but it hurts, it’s one of the most excruciating amounts of pain you can imagine….
And what happens when you change your mind, and your adam’s apple has been shaves, and your penis and testicles have been removed, and you realize that this possible identity crisis you’re going through is over and you want to be a man again? Are you going to whine and throw a fit, wasting precious resources and court time in order to plea to have everything put back on?
This is fucking crazy. You don’t deserve to be happy. You’re in prison. It’s not fucking Disneyland, and you’re no fucking Cinderella.
F
I love advertising…
Hummmssss along…..grinnning….head bobbing back and forth…
http://youporn.com/watch/148402/dildo-song/?user_choice=Enter
And these…are the days..of our lives
Oh. my. god.
I never realized exactly -how- dysfunctional my bilogical family was, until yesterday, which was only impacted further by today’s wonderful activities.
Yesterday, I go with my mom to the store, and I take Jacksyn. Vaiy didn’t want to go, she was bowling with my grandma on the Wii game and decided that she wanted to stay. Well about a half hour after I’d left, Vaiy decided she wanted to go looking for me.
She wanted the keys to the car, and from what my grandmother said, she refused to get out. They had to “drag” her “kicking and screaming” out of the car. For any who know my daughter, that is just -not- in her scope of behavior. My daughter doesn’t kick and scream and she never has to be -drug- anywhere.
She was convinced that I’d left and I was never coming back. Now, knowing how volitile the situation is, my grandmother decides that it’s all right to let Vaiy go outside and play anyway.
My mother and I are on our way back from the store, we turn onto the Highway and there’s a woman pulled off on the side of the road. My mother stops, rolls down the window and asks if she needs help. And what tiny little girl is standing there, over a half a mile from my mother’s house on the side of the highway, why…yes, it’s my 5 year old daughter.
After a fit of panic that lasts about .3 seconds, I jump out of the truck, run across the highway and I grab my daughter and hit my knees in the gravel. I’ve got her wrapped in my arms, I’m sobbing and thanking this woman endlessly. The cops were called, so she had to call them back and tell them that the mother had been found. All is well. Well, not really, because I’m on fire and my mother’s pretty pissed as well.
We get back to the house, and my grandmother and her sister my Great Aunt Linda, are standing outside, and so is my Step Dad.
Not one fucking apology.
Not one.
If I’d lost T.T’s son, I’d have fallen all over myself, on my hands and knees sobbing and begging her forgiveness, but instead, they’re berating my 5 year old daughter as if she were some common criminal for “running off”. Vaiyanen got a spanking for leaving with out an adult, but I’ll admit it was half hearted. Did I mention in the hour or so that I was gone, that my DAUGHTER DISAPEARED!
I’m upset, and rightfully so. But I’m not allowed to be upset, I’m not allowed to blow it out of porportion, I’m not allowed to cry or be angry. Because it was all Vaiy’s fault and had nothing to do with my grandmother.
Right?
Wrong.
Oh, but this is just the beginning. My grandmother goes further, by spending the rest of the evening going on and on and on about how it’s not her fault, and then starts with the little comments..”Well, if one of you slips in that mess you made on the floor in the kitchen, it’s not my fault, I won’t be responsible for everyone around here getting hurt.” …and little shit like that, all night-fucking-long.
So about 8 pm, I decide that I need to go…
I get in the car that my God-parents had provided me, and I leave. I take the kids, and we get home and we decompress. Thank god for letting me have a safe haven. I told my Dad (Bob-dad) about what happened..(Katy-mom too), and they aggreed that it wasn’t really Vaiy’s fault. So I wasn’t just being bias.
So today, I’ve had sufficient time to cool off, right? I go out for breakfast with Jack (Vaiy was with Papa Bob at work this morning), and we buy a pie from Shari’s. Yay for pie! I pick up the Vaiy and we take off for the hour drive to Ephrata where my biological mother lives. I get there, and grandma’s car is still parked out front.
I take a deep breath, consider that she’s old and cantankerous, and I take the kids inside. Jack hands the pie to mom and I slide off to the potty, cause well..it was a long dive and I had a lot of coffee. As I’m doing my business, I hear my grandmother bitching about the pie, because she thinks it’s going to be nasty. Now, she’s been picking at me since Sunday night. Nevermind that I have cancer. Nevermind that I’m overwhelmed and tired. Nevermind that I’m dealing with tons of other shit. Nevermind any of that. The only person that matters, is grandma.
Wash my hands, and sit down at the kitchen table with my grandma and mom. We start swapping recipes, talking about this and that…everything is good, everything is fine. Until my grandmother decides to ask,
“Did you tell the Sessions about what Vaiy did yesterday?”
Now I didn’t want to talk about this. It was said and done and I just wanted to let it go. But I answered her.
“Yes, and Bob was pretty angry.”
I gave a little eye brow raise, well, because I can, and she responds with…
“Well I hope you told them the truth and not your version of the truth, we all know how you lie to them to make us out to be Monsters.”
And so it begins…the days of their lives. They live for Drama. These people can’t get enough. If they aren’t yelling and screaming at each other, if someone isn’t dying or crying, then they aren’t fucking happy. And hypocrites, let me tell you about some hypocrites. Though my tone is getting a little terse, I keep my tongue and I’m like..
“I didn’t tell them anything, that wasn’t told to me Grandma…”
G – “well, I know you blamed me yesterday…”
F – “Yes, I did, and I still do, but that’s my perrogative. I don’t want to get into this grandma, it’s over and done with and it’s not worth fighting over.”
Well, apparently it was worth fighting over, because my mother starts slamming her hand on the table, her voice is raising, my grandmother’s flipping out on me, and I’m staring between the two of them like..”what the fucking fuck?” I throw up my hands and I’m like…
”Okay, we’re leaving…”
And as I’m walking out the door, my grandmother’s parting words to me were…
“….little bitch….”
Which, of course didn’t get any reaction but the obvious from me. I turned around, walked back inside, and for the first time in my life, I let both of them have it like I’ve never let them have it before. World War Faynie has begun. People are slinging insults, my mother is screaming at me, my grandmother is screaming at me, my Step Dad is screaming at all of us to shut up. I tried to leave like 18 times in the course of 12 seconds…
Finally, to make a long story short, because I’m making myself ill with the details, I left after my mother all but told me that I got everything I deserved as a kid because I “wasn’t the easiest child to deal with”.
But the amazing thing out of it all, is…
I’m not angry. I’m not hurt, I’m not even really upset. I’m just glad my head ache has finally gone away. And I feel like I’ve finally had some closure. Because they all know exactly what I think of them.
Ha.
Miss “I feel liberated” Fayne
I’m alive
..Barely…but I’m here…I’ll blog more later…
Jess…help me…god help me please.
F
