It would be nice if it were all lies, just a made up story, a figment of my imagination, as an email suggests.
‘you are FEEDING your anger with LIES. Just to carry on the hated/evil.’
The lie I told was that my mother stayed in the same house as my father while in Texas, I guess I was wrong. She was in the same neighborhood, just not the same house.
I don’t know if she spent time with him or seen him or anything, all I knew is her destination was the same as his. Okay, I get it …. I was wrong.
I was wrong about that.
Yet what they fail to realize is that I am not looking to be fed, nor am I creating lies to fuel an evil to carry it on, the evil is being carried along by them, not me.
The wonderful technology of Facebook reveals to me in pictures that don’t lie.
My father is posing with his granddaughter, grandson and newest little great granddaughter, with captions of ‘grandpa’.
The sender of the email is standing at his side.
What they fail to notice is that THEY are the ones who allow another little girl in his presence.
I am not the one who is allowing this, but the one who is trying to tell them not to trust this old grandpa man.
I sent an email to the lady of the house where my father lives, informing her that I will be contacting the Family Independence Agency in their town letting them know, a child is in danger.
The family can’t see the danger and while they are blind to it, the danger continues on to another generation, the third.
I thought they knew who they had in their homes, the picture tells me they have no idea.
They think I am the one, who keeps this sordid tale alive, that I am the creator of this sad little tune, but little do they know; they are the ones who sing the chorus line.
They think I drum up new little lies to keep their world a mess, while they are looking at me, HE is looking at his newest littlest victim, waiting for her to ripen to the perfect little age.
My anger, my hate, my evil they believe I carry is the opposite. I care enough to try and wake them up.
Hate me, be angry with me, and lose your respect for me that is fine, I will do my best to keep his hands off another little girl.
The picture is the picture of denial.
Denial is seeing a grandpa where a pedophile stands.
He looks the same.
Harmless.
Old.
Familiar.
Himself.
What I needed the most way back when, was someone to alert the family, someone to protect me from this man. I can now be that person to the newest little girl to join our family tree.
I will be the one who tries to stop the spread of his disease from touching her.
Perhaps her grandmother will now take heed, pay attention when it is her first grandchild who sits upon HIS knee.
I M Perfect lady 