Home Sweet Home

You know there’s something seriously wrong when the police arrive at your door past midnight.  I guessed what it was at once.  He had finally done it.

I’d moved out of the family home when I was seventeen, and haven’t put a foot inside it since.  After years of wanting my father’s attention, I finally had it once I reached puberty.  It was the wrong sort of course, “our little secret” he used to call it.

Poor Mum, the things she had to put up with over the years.  She didn’t deserve any of it. She’d never told anybody of the mental and physical abuse she had been subjected to from ‘HIM.’  Even now I can’t call him ‘Dad’, he’s such a despicable human being.  Why she stood by him all these years I will never understand.

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They call me “Father”

They call me “Father”, for I am king of my own little world.

Why rule over these sheep? Isn’t it obvious? Better to be rich than poor, better to be adored then despised. I’ve robbed these fools blind, yet they still worship me.

And this job comes with so many perks.

I convinced a gullible girl to marry me, telling her: “An angel of the Lord proclaimed in a vision, that if you don’t become my wife, then Heaven will send a curse to kill you and your entire family!” and the weeping sixteen-year-old gave in, all because I was convincing enough.

That’s power I can never give up.

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