gealach
Diamond Member
I've started this several times, and deleted it every time. I don't talk about this. I don't know how to write about it. Maybe I'll just write... and not delete.... and see what comes out.
The very short, much abridged version, of the story is that I lost my family to homicide in 2003. I died too.
My sibling was a terrible narcissistic person, from a young age, and needed significant interventions that never appeared. I'm honestly not sure any interventions would have helped, some people just seem to be born with hateful angry dark twisted souls. Always so angry, so full of hate. Seemingly wanting revenge against the world, for the crime of being born. Dropped out of school unofficially in junior high, officially in senior high. Drugs, alcohol, prostitution, vandalism, assault, theft, fraud, false rape report... and always the first to cut a deal to avoid a conviction. Always playing the victim, but in reality was usually the perpetrator. Smoothly and confidently manipulative, so easily spinning the lies. So many lies, you can't keep them all straight. Bad person?... Absolutely. A killer? :.. I always thought she'd be a victim of homicide, not the perpetrator.
She called Easter Sunday, on the farm, just as we were getting ready to leave for the city. She said that my niece wouldn't wake up. I told her to hang up now and call 911. We didn't know the police were already there, called by EMS. I knew the supervisor who responded with the crew. It was the longest 2 hour drive of my life. When we got to the hospital, the cops wouldn't let us into the ICU... I don't remember how, but we discovered they were homicide detectives. They were suspicious of the entire family. Eventually, somehow, I was allowed in, I don't remember how but I was EMS trained so maybe that was it?... I was brought to a bed but I didn't recognize my niece, she looks like me, but that child didn't look like me. She was so small, and too skinny, and her fiery hair had been cut short. She was bruised, swollen, broken. I'd never seen her quiet, from the day she learned how to talk she had never stopped, I think she even talked in her sleep. Intubated, a probe in her brain measuring the too high pressure, IV, pump, catheter, cooling pad. She was posturing, I knew what that meant. There were handprint bruises on her back. She had lung damage and pneumonia from aspirating vomit. Her retinas had been destroyed in both eyes, blind. Her brain looked like a skydiving accident. I stayed with her for 3 days, I left just once, I didn't sleep. My sibling visited, maybe twice? The ICU staff actually had to tell her to come visit her daughter. On the 4th day a nurse put my niece in my arms, and she quietly died. She was 3 years old. The coroner's assistant who came to get her body was a friend and mentor of mine. Her birthday was in 2 days. Her 4th birthday was an autopsy and a hole in the ground. She had been starved, beaten, shaken, and suffocated. There were 2 adults in the home, and they knew we were coming into the city for Easter. If they had called 911 the day they tortured her, she would have lived. They just hid her away in her bedroom, until she slipped into a coma, hoping they wouldn't be discovered. They literally waited as long as they possibly could to call 911.
I was the one who had to tell my nephew that his sister was dying. He had been apprehended by child protective services, and some social worker made the brilliant decision to have a traumatized 5 year old brought to the hospital to visit his comatose sister. He was terrified, wet his pants. I took him away, and had to explain to him what he had seen and what would happen. Then he was taken away. He was sent to a foster family, and I think I saw him 2 or 3 times. He disappeared some time just before his 6th birthday. His foster mom had gotten ill and returned to the US where she was from. My nephew was sent somewhere north, not even sure what province, just far north. He disappeared. No body, no grave, just... gone.
My niece was more like my daughter. My nephew was more like my little brother. At least I got to hold her, say goodbye, put flowers on her grave. I didn't get to hold him, or say goodbye. I don't know if he has a grave. I don't know that they knew they are so loved.
My niece's anniversary and birthday are coming up. My nephew's anniversary and birthday are coming shortly.
I don't know why I wrote all this.
The very short, much abridged version, of the story is that I lost my family to homicide in 2003. I died too.
My sibling was a terrible narcissistic person, from a young age, and needed significant interventions that never appeared. I'm honestly not sure any interventions would have helped, some people just seem to be born with hateful angry dark twisted souls. Always so angry, so full of hate. Seemingly wanting revenge against the world, for the crime of being born. Dropped out of school unofficially in junior high, officially in senior high. Drugs, alcohol, prostitution, vandalism, assault, theft, fraud, false rape report... and always the first to cut a deal to avoid a conviction. Always playing the victim, but in reality was usually the perpetrator. Smoothly and confidently manipulative, so easily spinning the lies. So many lies, you can't keep them all straight. Bad person?... Absolutely. A killer? :.. I always thought she'd be a victim of homicide, not the perpetrator.
She called Easter Sunday, on the farm, just as we were getting ready to leave for the city. She said that my niece wouldn't wake up. I told her to hang up now and call 911. We didn't know the police were already there, called by EMS. I knew the supervisor who responded with the crew. It was the longest 2 hour drive of my life. When we got to the hospital, the cops wouldn't let us into the ICU... I don't remember how, but we discovered they were homicide detectives. They were suspicious of the entire family. Eventually, somehow, I was allowed in, I don't remember how but I was EMS trained so maybe that was it?... I was brought to a bed but I didn't recognize my niece, she looks like me, but that child didn't look like me. She was so small, and too skinny, and her fiery hair had been cut short. She was bruised, swollen, broken. I'd never seen her quiet, from the day she learned how to talk she had never stopped, I think she even talked in her sleep. Intubated, a probe in her brain measuring the too high pressure, IV, pump, catheter, cooling pad. She was posturing, I knew what that meant. There were handprint bruises on her back. She had lung damage and pneumonia from aspirating vomit. Her retinas had been destroyed in both eyes, blind. Her brain looked like a skydiving accident. I stayed with her for 3 days, I left just once, I didn't sleep. My sibling visited, maybe twice? The ICU staff actually had to tell her to come visit her daughter. On the 4th day a nurse put my niece in my arms, and she quietly died. She was 3 years old. The coroner's assistant who came to get her body was a friend and mentor of mine. Her birthday was in 2 days. Her 4th birthday was an autopsy and a hole in the ground. She had been starved, beaten, shaken, and suffocated. There were 2 adults in the home, and they knew we were coming into the city for Easter. If they had called 911 the day they tortured her, she would have lived. They just hid her away in her bedroom, until she slipped into a coma, hoping they wouldn't be discovered. They literally waited as long as they possibly could to call 911.
I was the one who had to tell my nephew that his sister was dying. He had been apprehended by child protective services, and some social worker made the brilliant decision to have a traumatized 5 year old brought to the hospital to visit his comatose sister. He was terrified, wet his pants. I took him away, and had to explain to him what he had seen and what would happen. Then he was taken away. He was sent to a foster family, and I think I saw him 2 or 3 times. He disappeared some time just before his 6th birthday. His foster mom had gotten ill and returned to the US where she was from. My nephew was sent somewhere north, not even sure what province, just far north. He disappeared. No body, no grave, just... gone.
My niece was more like my daughter. My nephew was more like my little brother. At least I got to hold her, say goodbye, put flowers on her grave. I didn't get to hold him, or say goodbye. I don't know if he has a grave. I don't know that they knew they are so loved.
My niece's anniversary and birthday are coming up. My nephew's anniversary and birthday are coming shortly.
I don't know why I wrote all this.
