The distance between my sisters and I.

Half sisters. Same mother, different father. I lived with MY father. My mom is a reckless, degenerate piece of shit, but was a gorgeous blonde, even after having kids (me and my brother).

My dad and my mom had 2 kids. She was a junkie at best, in every way. She disappeared. She met a new guy and got clean for a short bit. "Settled down"....quotations deeply implied. She had two more kids, to girls, my sisters. Half sisters.

I visited my mom when she "settled down." I became close with my mom, and her new husband, a great guy to this day. She got back into her bottle.

I remember my teenage years. I visited my mom and her husband. She was a violent drunk. He was too timid for his own good. My sisters, young witnesses to her violence.

They would come into my room (the room I stayed in when "visiting" my mom), scared of my mom, asking to stay with me since I was big and could fend her off. While my Step-dad dealt with her.

He's a good man, but was no match for her vitriol.

I don't mind what my mother became, the things she said to me, the things she did to me.

But the look in my little baby sisters' eyes, scared, desperate, coming into my room, looking for safety. The HATRED I have for my mom for creating that look in my little sisters' eyes.

I will never forgive her. I long for her to die in her fucking bottle.

Luckily, my sisters grew into great adults and stable people. And I am so grateful for that. I worried so much about them. I couldn't always be there to protect them.

But to this day, my mom said every evil thing about me, and I can srug it off, but the fear she put into my sisters' eyes when they were so young.

That I can never forgive, and I can only wish my mom dies a horrible death, equal to the fear, regret, anger, and sadness she wrought upon the people she was supposed to love and protect.

Fuck that detestable cunt, my "mom."