However, none of
this compares to the anger I feel towards Danny’s family. I’m
going to end this by making this out to them personally—Dorcas
Marsden, you are a gelatinous slob that selfishly chose to sit in a
chair and have your children wait on you hand and foot, all because
your piece of shit husband died. Your disgusting, weak, and you’re
just as bad as my mother if not worse. Danny hated you and his Dad, yet Danny
still took care of you when he could, even if it was simply out of
obligation. Oh, and lets not forget the fact that you’re the reason
he felt guilty about getting to know his biological brother, and even
when you knew Danny had cancer you still demanded he make you a cup
of tea. You still couldn’t accept the fact that Danny wasn’t
religious; when your husband was alive, you spent so much time trying
to be the good Christian wife, you wouldn’t even bother to stop
your husband from beating your fragile son and then locking him in
closets. That worked to his advantage however, when he was 11 years
old, he ate his first pussy in that very same closet. Ha! So much for
your good Christian household!
Ezra Burns, you’re
a sad sack with too many kids and from what I’ve heard, you’re a
shit father. You’re a gross old pig that clearly doesn’t even
like your wife, you only married her for money and because you didn’t
want to be alone after your previous wife died. Perhaps that’s why
your dad drank too much and beat your mom, he himself couldn’t
stand his cunting wife, let alone stand to be around his aborted
disappointments.
And Laura Burns, you
denied me some of Danny’s ashes even when I offered to help you pay
for half of the cremation, I was even willing to give you $1000 just
for a couple of tablespoons. I know about all the times you tried to
convince Danny to leave me—you respect me so little that when I got
on my knees and begged you, eyes clouded with tears; your soul is so
full of dust and the ashes of your dead relatives, you wrote me off
as hysterical. You belittled me, patronized me, antagonized me—talking to you was
like being curb-stomped after being stabbed in the back, then left to bleed out on the side of the road, which I suppose is why you’re going to just drop Danny in a hole with two people he despised, the same way your
Dad dropped his dick into your rancid hole when he got bored with
your mom. That's right, I know about the accusations you made against
your father. It’s pretty fucked up that you think it’s morally
corrupt to divide up someones ashes, yet it’s righteous to bury
Danny with the woman who gave you life, then took it from you to sit
in a chair, right along with the man you accused of rape. All of this
you're doing for YOUR convenience! You’re a gnarled, toothless hag
and you smell like your moms piss and shit—or is that your vile
malodorous stench? I know you have a tendency to soil yourself, what
I really want to know is…when your Dad was pumping in and out of
you, did he cum inside of you? Or did he shoot it all over your fat
ass because he couldn’t stand to look at your “O” face?
All those times you
and Dorcas said you loved me, cared about me, and that we were family—when you found out Danny had cancer, you even went so far as to say and I quote, "If you ever need anything, Danny's badass sister is here to help." Then you hugged me, let me cry on your shoulder after shedding a few of your own; it was complete bullshit. You actually cared so little about
me, you kicked me out of the house within the same week of Danny’s
death because I disagreed with you. You respect yourself so little
that even with kidney failure, you chain smoke, eat garbage food, and
make little to no effort to care for yourself. Strong people don't need to tear others down in order to feel strong, they do it on their own. You are a dried up,
burlap husk of a woman and I hope your death is as lonely and miserable
as your time on this planet.
Good Riddance!
