Your brother killed your dad??
Wow
YES. And was never charged. This is twisted and sick but I'm much younger then the rest of my siblings. I never really knew any of them besides one that's here in my town. Well, my brother (I refer to him as "it") moved into mt parents home after his wife kicked him out. He gave a bullshit reason as for why.
About a month later he "hit on" me. Late that evening I told my dad (my parents were my 2 best friends) and he was enraged and said, "OH don't you worry, he's OUT!". Came to find out he was molesting his own kids and the kids that belonged to the wife who kicked him out...I'm throwing that in just to say how SICK he is.
The next morning rolls around (and my dad was like a dad to my son then his real dad who at the time I was with) and my son had a ritual of NEEDING to stop by my dad's each day before school. My son was 6 at the time and has Aspergers. That day though my son refused to go to school (Aspergers children can be very difficult). So I called my dad so that he wasn't standing outside in the snow waiting for us. He always was...precisely at 745...he'd come out, salute my son (my dad served 35 years in the army and taught my son all about it), come to my car, kiss him and wish him a good day.
Anyway, upon calling "it" answered on the 1st ring saying my dad was sleeping. Immediatedly I was like that's impossible. Military 35 years? My dad was up by 5am everyday of the week. Stupidly I just thought that he wasn't giving my dad the phone and went to go back to bed figuring later I'd go over (we did so daily for at least 5 hours per day) and my brother would be gone for good.
Not so. 30 minutes later my ex husband screamed up to me that I needed to get up to my parents house and that my dad fell down the steps and wasn't breathing. I flew probably 100 mph and he was being brought out on a stretcher, paramedics doing CPR. I then just ran and ran FAST, SCREAMING AND CRYING fell to the ground in the snow. A kind person came outside of their home and asked me what was wrong. I just knew and said my brother killed my father. The next I knew my brother was walking up the street saying "it was an accident". An accident my ass. He was being kicked out, that's all there was to it.
In the upcoming weeks I learned many things. One being that before my dad was even pronounced dead my brother went next door to a neighbors home and said if they heard all the commotion that he and my dad had an argument and my dad fell down the steps and snapped his neck and died instantly. Cause of death on death certificate? Not a broken neck. He had no broken bones. It was a heart attack.
Then my brother (oh God, "IT") began sending me constant emails. Threatening ones. I went to the police but it was word against word.
I'm also positive he did it the night I left because when I saw my dad dead in the hospital he had the same clothes on as the night before, shoes and was FREEZING (when someone passes away, they never get as cold as my father was within an hour.
So it wasn't a shooting or a stabbing and maybe someone young could've endured the argument and fall but my dad did not.
I will FOREVER HATE "it" because "it" destroyed my life and my son's. Since then I've always had an addiction of some sort now that I think about it and not necessarily drugs since I have little drug experience.
Just writing this, sickened me and made me cry all over again as if it just happened yesterday. But it's things such as this that are flooding my emotions. The mere thought that he lives in my same state sickens me.
I don't know how the fuck he got away with the child molestation (I failed to mention he raped one of my sisters cause he felt it was OK since she was adopted) or with pushing my dad to his death but the mother f'er now has remarried, has a beautiful home and from what I heard says he's the happiest he's ever been. Hmm, perhaps because "its" molesting children or raping women. People like "it" need to be locked up and have the key thrown away.
.
