My home is on the top floor of the British Bank Building taking care of my elderly mother. After father died she needed someone to care for her so I moved back home. She has manipulated and controlled my life ever since.
She was diagnosed with COPD and early stage of dementia ten years ago. Ten years later, she is still in early stage of dementia and COPD. The only way the dementia has gotten worse is that she has become meaner, more controlling and more manipulating. She constantly degrades me and tells me what a disappointment I am to her. Nothing I do for her pleases her; it is never good enough for her.
My brother, Christopher, left home as soon as possible and has not looked back since. He is now married, has two children and is an officer in the Royal Navy. I envy him. I am trapped, like a fly caught in a web and mother is the black widow.
I have some arsenic and I will use it. Keep pushing me mother and I will damn sure use it.
I moved back home twelve miserable years ago. I have been in this prison ever since.
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