My dad kicked anything with legs to death

My dad joins. No more eviction notices. No more barred from lowes. Its been 17 years. No more running around like a maniac when the sheriff comes. No more holes in walls. No more kicked dogs. No more eviction notices. No more shoplifting. Its been 17 years. <br><br>There’s no such thing as a good addict. I was 4 when he was arrested for peeing on a pregnant lady in walmart. I was 6 when he went to jail for shoplifting. I was 12 when he stole my graduation money (that I had been saving for years, every cent I got from babysitting, birthday gifts, whatever). <br><br>I was 4 when this man I don’t remember (who I think was my fathers cousin) came to our house for a while and left for a few days. I don’t even remember what he looked like, but I remember he played with me the one day he was there and petted the dog. But then he had to leave. He got kicked out when I was born. My uncle (his brother), my aunt (his sister) his cousin. They all left or got kicked out. <br><br>My mother loves him unconditionally, because whatever else he is he is her brother. <br><br>He joins. No more eviction notices. No more barred from lowes. Its been 17 years. No more running around like a maniac when the sheriff comes. No more holes in walls. No more kicked dogs. No more eviction notices. No more shoplifting. Its been 17 years. <br><br><br>17 years since my dad hit rock bottom. Or, as my mother puts it “before he hit rock bottom, his whole life has been rock bottom.” <br><br>17 years ago he beat my (then) 12 year old brother until he was in a coma. A six hour ambulance ride to the nearest town with an ICU. Five months in the hospital. <br><br>I was only 10 when this happened, hard to remember. Surgery to remove most of his stomach. Brain damage. He still can’t walk. He still can’t talk. Seizures. He has to have something put in his mouth to prevent him from chewing his tongue. <br><br>17 years ago he was arrested. He spent almost a year in jail waiting for the trial. <br><br>17 years ago he was sentenced to the maximum amount of prison time for abuse of a child. Not murder, abuse, because my brother was alive when my dad pulled the trigger and shot him. <br><br>I forgot what he was in for, but it was a six year sentence, with 6 months off for good behavior. He went home when he was released. He went back to my mother. He went back to his drug addiction. <br><br>He is a psychopath. He has no empathy. He isn’t sorry. The happiest I have ever heard him was when he told me, “When you grow up and have kids I’m going to abuse them. Make you watch, since you were so happy when I went to prison.” <br><br>It should have been life. Why was it only six years? He wasn’t sorry. He didn’t deserve anything less. <br><br>There’s no such thing as a good addict. My dad joins. No more eviction notices. No more barred from lowes. Its been 17 years. No more running around like a maniac when the sheriff comes. No more holes in walls. No more kicked dogs. No more eviction notices. No more shoplifting. Its been 17 years. <br><br>My brother is sitting in the next room. He still can’t talk. He still can’t walk. He still can’t take off the bit in his mouth. <br><br>My dad joins. No more eviction notices. No more barred from lowes. Its been 17 years. No more running around like a maniac when the sheriff comes. No more running around like a maniac when the sheriff comes. No more holes in walls. No more kicked dogs. No more eviction notices. No more shoplifting. Its been 17 years.