swingkitten

Ooookay. Let me try and articulate this in a way that makes sense.

Last Friday, the cops came to visit my niece. Her live-in boyfriend was kicked out of the house by them because he had been accused of raping the little next-door-neighbor girl. she is five years old. Ouch. We ALL thought he was wonderful, even those of us who can normally sniff out a pedophile from miles away. Even my mother loved him.
But that's not all.
He kept trying to come back to her house, saying "let me in, honey. Tia, let me in", obviously not caring that his presence there would get her kids taken away, obviously not caring what his presence might prompt the mother of the girl next door to do.
On Saturday, my niece's appendix burst. Probably from a combination of the stress, and probably because it was gearing up to do so long before. She called me, I called my mother, we went there, we called an ambulance as she lay in bed screaming from the pain. Mom had to go with her to the hospital, I was left with her three children. I looked around me.... the house was filthier than any I had ever seen. My niece's depression and the laziness of the fucker who'd made her so sad had made this house a living hell for three small kids. wet diapers everywhere... toothbrushes sitting on wet diapers. The baby trying to eat three-day-old pizza off the floor. Shit on the floor in the bathroom, behind the toilet. Dirty clothes in the spare bathroom piled up to my head. I cleaned frantically and for hours while my mom was with my morphine-calmed and shell-shocked niece. I found razor blades everywhere. My mom and I found a duffel bag right under the living room couch with used condoms, knives....pictures of the boyfriend's herpes-infected penis. Can you fucking imagine?
Two days later, I was still with the kids, my niece was still in the hospital, and I had talked to her kids and the neighbor's kids, and found out horrible things. It was true, what he did. He also hurt my little cousins. The dearly loved kids who we thought would escape from the family curse of getting fucked by someone they trusted. The poor middle child, four years old, stuttered and shivered horribly every time I had to give him a bath for his skin condition which was worsening steadily. He was scared of everything, but talking much more than he had ever talked to me before. Every time his older brother told me something new, told my mom something new, we'd tell him it was okay to share secrets, and he would bawl his eyes out. It took me those two days to get the house reasonably clean, to find the baby's ointment for his skin, to make the kitchen semi-useable again. I had to sleep with the middle child before he'd let his eyes close. I hugged him tight to my chest and thought about how I'd kill that motherfucker if he gave these angel kids herpes. He came back again one night. Mom was there, my niece's mother had just flown in from Montana to help us. Mom pointed her Smith & Wesson at him and ordered him away, and all I could think was, "these kids could live with hearing a gunshot... it would be worth it".
My niece is out of the hospital now, her mother is here in town with her, helping her with the kids while she recovers from surgery. The boyfriend is staying at an apartment right up the street, and we're all hoping he stays off the coke so he won't decide to come get his baby boy.
I'm home now, when I got back the other night, I took three showers in a row and still couldn't feel clean. I hope they convict him. I hope they send him to Snake River so my incarcerated sociopath of an uncle can fuck him in the ass.

That's all for now. Thanks for letting me vent.