Why didn’t we just leave straight away?

In a south Auckland suburb lived a family of three. A mother and her two children. A son and a daughter.

They lived in a humble unit, down a long driveway. Three units lined up beside each other, like plastic monopoly houses. At the bottom of the driveway, three more. Theirs was the third. Smack bang in the middle. One side of their unit sat flush with the second, whilst the other side was lined with grass and an overgrown lemon tree.

People were coming. A group, but why? To ransack? To kidnap? For a cup of tea? No one knew. But they prepared themselves. For some reason they didn’t leave as soon at they were ready. They waited til night. They lay in their beds, all in one room. For some reason they had a visitor. They sat against the window. Their head in full view. Why the fuck are you here?

Night fell. Flash lights lit up the Windows. Darting down the side of the house.

Off they go. Out the front door. With their visitor in tow.

Visitor behind.
Imposter behind them.
No one looking back.
While the rest followed.

Down the long driveway.

——-

This was a dream I had night. The visitor was one of the siblings I mentioned in the previous post. The imposters, they reminded me of door to door sales people. You just want them to go away.

With that death looming, one of the sisters has been in contact with my mum. This makes me feel uneasy. What if they find out where I live? What if they try to weasel their way back in?

For years, the two sisters have tried to get in contact with me. They want to make ammends. I will not forgive. I will not forget.

They trail behind and I don’t want to look back.

My mum gave them a donation to help with preparations. She said it was from her and the kids. This irked me but I know she did it with good intentions. I don’t want them to think they are in my good graces. I want them to know I loathe them.

I want them to stop trying.
I want them to fuck off.

I forget about the darker side of myself when I’m feeling so stable. Seems like a figurment of my imagination.

It’s not though.

I mostly blame them for being the root of my lack of mental well-being. Each one sowed several dark seeds in pivotal times of my life. They broke me as a child. No child should have “role models” like them growing up.

I hate them for that.

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