I FUCKING HATE HIM
Tl/dr Narshole
messed up my mind, and no amount of money will compensate for it. They're (narcs) in love with the
idea of us, rather than who we truly are. My anxiety skyrockets whenever he's around, more out of fear for Mum than myself.
Mum's the one and only person that still gives a rat's ass about him (me & Co. are so done with him) and can't bear to see him rot in a ditch in his last days. But the lying, backstabbing cunt will curse and swear at her behind her back, giving fuck all for what she's done for all of us. Even though I intend to leave quietly, seeing her humiliated and oppressed fills me with so much rage and hate, and I feel burdened to stay for her sake. I look forward to the day I find the narshole's rotting corpse hanging from the ceiling. When he runs out of victims. Maybe, just maybe. Won't be turning up for the funeral anyways.
Honestly I wish he'd just leave us the fuck alone and let things stay the way they've been (cold indifference), instead of trying to get close to us using 100% pure cringe methods. When it's plain
obvious it's out of fear—narshole quakes in his boots at the thought of having no one to take care of him when he's old.
Worst part? THE SHENANIGANS NEVER END!