For the first time since I've started writing here, you will get a glimpse of actual emotion from me. What happened was both unexpected, and my emotional stimulation from it quite rare. I despise being caught off-guard, it equates roughly to losing control of a situation, and that is not something that happens when a monster is involved.
It started with a monstrous tactical error on my part--- I trusted that after the emotional devastation and despair my sister inflicted on my mother and her side of the family, that my mother would be both intelligent and cautious, and not allow her to move back in with her. I was wrong. Again, the idiocy of the human condition astounds me. And for the last time, it has caught me off-guard. There is a lesson to be learned here, and I have learned it. The paradox of love knows no boundaries, and when it can, which is more often than not, ruin carefully crafted plans and masterfully woven webs of intricacies. These things that happened have been rather unfortunate... but I have had many years to master my craft, and I am rather certain I can work this over into my favor.
This will be a glimpse into how my mind works, of how I wrap myself in shadows even in the bright light of day.
To start, a tale of betrayal. My sister, a deceitful, manipulative, neurotic wretch, hit adolescence. A rough, emotional time for females. Hormones were broiling over, and her desire for attention, for sympathy, grew too great to contain. Too great to control. I made an actual attempt to keep her away from the idiot youth, away from the drugs, and the violence, but it was a great task. I am older than her by four years, so there was only so much I could do. I had a ... project ... at that time, an interesting, malleable lump of humanity that I could break and reform as many times as I needed to create the perfect pawn.
As it takes a lot of work to reform someone's entire personality, I obviously had to spend a lot of time with this pawn. I had him at my house on a daily basis. We worked out, talked business, played video games, and throughout it all, I subliminally smashed his conscience and his moral compass, then installed my own into him. Where he once had morality, and compassion, I left cold, hard logic, tempered with the lingering touch of humanity. I made him stronger, better, colder. Near the end, however, I was giving him more slack on his leash. He had to walk on his own feet, so I let him establish relationships with other people, to test my skills at creating my own legacy. To see if I could condition someone to be like me. The results were disgusting.
Instead of holding to the code I had taught him, he desecrated it. He turned it into something of his own, something putrid. He became a monster, but not one like me. He became a pathological liar, and he almost became a rapist. As much work as I had put into him, this was disheartening to say the least, but before I could cut all ties with him and scrap the project, there were things that had to be done, protocols to be followed. He had to be broken, one final time, and he had to learn to fear the consequences of his actions. After I took care of those things, I cut my losses.
My sister didn't handle that loss well--- In fact, to cope, she created herself either a fantastic lie, or perhaps more astutely--- she created herself a fantasy, a delusional with serious societal and legal repercussions, had anyone truly believed her.
Three, four years later, she's moved back in with my mother. As you can see, this is a problem for me. Principally, I cannot forsake my fury at her actions against me. Principally, I cannot end my crusade against her happiness and wellbeing, despite the ramifications that my disdain for her will have with my mother's side of the family. And now, I cannot draw on my mother's resources for financial support, as my sister's medication and doctors alone will drain my mother, not to mention the mundane and trivial garbage she receives when she manipulates her 'loved' ones into taking her shopping or buying her things off the internet. I cannot visit my mother's house, because while I am fond of my grandparents and mother, I would rather crucify my sister on an inverted cross then visit while she is there. I do not when a new player enters my game.
I have humiliated her, I have shamed her, broken her. I took her friends away, and forced her to have to go to a different school. I ripped apart the very foundations she had spent her lifetime building with some of my family when she lied to her counselors about me, lied to my family about me. I may not believe in love, but I do believe in ownership. My family is just that--- mine. They are my property, my flock. I must protect them from the wickedness of this world, even that which they cannot see. Not from some sense of loyalty, or kinship, but because they are my sheep, and they are helpless to the dangers of the world. It is my obligation to defend them just as I would my car, or my apartment. Such is the way of the beast.
But now, there is a storm. A mighty storm, that is blowing tempest winds that I cannot control. I cannot bend the lightning to my will, nor can I tame the raging fury. But I can steer it in my favor.
My father, and his wife, are not poor. They are upper-middle class. In September, I will need a car. My sister was a financial drain on my father and his side of the family. With her out of my way, there are countless doors open. I can approach this storm from any direction, and not only will I, I will win. I will emerge victorious. My stepmother spent the better part of half my life trying to break me. She slammed herself against me, time after time, hoping to pound me into a mold. She tore herself to pieces, because she made one huge tactical error: she presumed that I was capable of being broken. I am no fierce stallion, powerful and dangerous, yet potentially tamed. I am no lion, to be browbeaten into meekness, to be admired by children on field trips to the zoo. I am a different type of predator, a monster that would make both the lion and the stallion uncomfortable... the type of predator that even a predator must acknowledge, must recognize, and grudgingly respect. She made the mistake of presuming she was in control.
Just as I spent the better part of my life working my father, his wife, and their relationship in the palms of my hand like wet clay, I will now spend the next few weeks building new bridges. Putting out fires still burning from years ago when I left my father's home. I will take my father, my father's parents, and my step-mother from my sister. I will make them mine, and I will make them resent her, despise her for the cancerous abomination that she is. I will have everything they would have given her, and everything they will give me. I have spent the better part of a year working his mother to my side, and though she doesn't yet realize it, I have laid the foundation for her to replace her affection and regard for my sister with disgust and scorn. To instead trade in love and forgiveness for care and concern for the damaged brother, and the damaged father, both torn apart by the actions of one forsaken sister.
And that forsaken sister will learn a valuable lesson, maybe not for many years, but she will learn it.
The devil gets his due.
Oh, I nearly forgot. Someone is hunting me. I don't know who they are, or what they want, but I am being watched. Followed. And it has piqued the interest of my primal darkness deep within the confines of my glove and even of my monster. Whoever is following me has tried to get into my apartment, and has even stalked one of the two who share my roof. That alone would have once been enough to merit my aggression, but as I grow older, and wiser, I also become a better tactician. But when you follow me, for miles, and through mazes of neighborhoods, you earn yourself a true reward. You have my attention... and woe is you if you think to ever lose it.