I changed their names. I shaped their minds. I was judge, jury, and executioner. No one could stop me. No one!
To anyone looking in, we were just a normal church going, family. No one was aware of the dark secrets we held within the walls of the tiny house by the swamp.
I was the woman with the razor strop and I made sure every blow connected.
That was until the day the sheriff handed me my subpoena. I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Abuse? What? The one-word ringing in my head drowning out anything and everything else that might have been said. I felt I might just pass out right there on the step. I kept my composure until he pulled out of the driveway and then my anger quickly exploded into rage.
Those ungrateful little bastards. After everything, I did for them. This was my thanks.
A bolt of straight adrenaline shot through my veins and I grabbed the gun…..
I had instilled the fear of god in them. I am not a woman to be tampered with. How could this be happening?
My one mistake…and I don’t make many… was not realizing that these stupid children would grow up.
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