The fact that you stood up for my rapist cousin in court against me, broke my heart so badly that I questioned whether I wanted to live in such a world. The lies you made other girls he violated tell in court, and your lashing out at me on the stand was almost worse than being raped itself.
Atop the building, ready to ‘fly the final flight,’ I decided I might as well stick around and see what happens and I’m glad of this. However, I still feel bitter when I realize that I have never been able to love normally since then. I was only 13. Your misogynistic love of him over me and the other cousins he raped sickens me.
At least I have more normal relationships than you do and am slowly learning not to be afraid to care, even if it might be too little too late. I seem to be able to care about ideas but I fail to trust people I should trust, to the point that it is somewhat socially crippling. I hope you are crippled by guilt, but somehow I doubt it.
I am glad that some of my family understands, and my chosen family accepts me as the quirky person I am because of my many experiences, one being this. You never loved me. I am no longer so consumed with rage but I will never forgive you, even though you are such base creatures you have no idea it was wrong.
I hope you rot in the hell you believe in, even though I don’t believe in anything but randomness and personal will. May flights of devils bring you to your rest – all of you that sat on his side of the courtroom and all who tell me I’m overreacting if I refuse to come or storm off when you invite them over for family gatherings.
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