I was waiting for someone to pick me up outside of a big concrete building... a
museum, maybe. Anyway, I've been sitting there a long time, and then I decide to walk home. On my way, I stop at my
paternal grandmother's house, and go into the basement /
rec room. My aunt is there, and she is glaring at me. Her face is uglier than usual, and she's not a pretty sight to behold to begin with. She starts circling around me like I'm her prey, and she's looking for a weak spot to dig into. Her teeth are crooked and coffee stained, and her hair is frizzy. My anxiety level keeps building as she's circling, and she keeps moving closer to me.
Finally, after what feels like forever, I start attacking her, yelling and screaming as I try to swipe at her face. I am telling her that my father's suicide was not my fault, and that if she couldn't see what a
nutjob he was, then she deserved her miserable ignorant existence.
I woke up and came to the realization that my dad's family is still honestly deluded enough to think that I was the root of his suicide. They send gifts and letters to my sisters, but avoid me. I had assault & battery charges filed against my dad at the time of his
death. Well, good
riddance to bad
rubbish.