Florence Collymore
No Other Choice
How To Kill Your Awful Mom
I wanted everything to look like suicide. So later I realized that I won’t be able to torture my mom. Because it obviously is gonna look like a murder. Saying in advance that I, at the age of 22 told the police all the truth. I have a life sentence in prison. But this story is gonna be told sooner.
Two weeks after I finished my plan. With hindsight, I comprehend that the plan was perfect. It was August 31st. I was going to push her out of the window. No bruises, no cuts. No one would understand that somebody pushed her. No evidence on her body. But it had to be performed at night in order to not get any witnesses. The most complicated part was the pushing. She was bigger and stronger than me, so I needed to trick her to come to the window but also she needed to lean over the windowsill. At least 30% of her body needs to be outside. In other cases, I would not have nailed the pushing.
It was the night of September 1st. I stole my mom’s phone. So she started looking for it.
01:13. I’m in the kitchen. Hear her steps reaching the kitchen. She enters.
“Do you know where my phone is?”
I had to make her furious. I couldn’t lose this opportunity.
“I don’t know where your phone is. You always leave it in visible places, try to use your brain.”
“What did you say?”
“TRY-TO-USE-YOUR-BRAIN”
She hit me two times in the head. Great! She went to the exit. It’s the moment, do it, Florence.
“Look what I got!”, I shouted, showing her phone.
She turned out, saw the phone, and furiously ran to me. At that moment, I threw the phone out of the window. She leaned over the windowsill exactly as I wanted her to do. And I did my job. It was super easy to take her legs when 45% of her body was outside.
No one woke up. I wrote a farewell note. Explained all the suffering in her life and that she couldn’t live like that anymore. I also wrote that a dad could take care of us and we didn’t need her in order to survive. I made her look better. I didn’t want to do it, though.
I only want to say that it could have been performed way better but I’m not an assassin. I did my best, truly. And it worked. I killed her eventually, and everyone thought that it was suicide. No job, no food, her husband beat her. Everything was perfect. I’ve never been so happy. The only thing that upsets me was that Steve, Elon, and Agnes were frustrated because of her death. Like, guys, she was an awful mom. Everyone noticed that.
We didn’t have a funeral. It was too expensive, so we just buried her in a 20$ coffin. Sorry, but she didn’t deserve any better. Eventually, everyone forgot about her and we moved on.
CHAPTER THREE: FATHER
Meet Him
This guy is insane. He is the first reason why I hate men so much. Especially white males who think they are the kings of the world. All the children actually are accidents. Moreover, he said it to each one a lot of times. I have no idea why. Just wear a freaking condom. Or if you do not have money, just avoid sex.
Abel is 63. He’s got gray hair from his 40s, a crazy wrinkled face, and a stupid-looking countenance. Typical short man (something around 5’5), curses every five minutes, bad-spoken. He literally can’t put five words together. He is a rapist, junkie, and abuser. He got a degree in college and even had a great job as an engineer but it didn’t last long. He became an alcoholic and several months later a junkie. He awfully hates women, blames each thing on them, and just feels like men are better than women. He says that we are extremely emotional, not hard-working, too soft, and are created to give birth to children and be a good wife.
His degree is his biggest achievement. Albeit, he sold it to a random guy to buy drugs. I don’t know how he managed to do it because his name is written there but whatever.
Since I was five years old, I was raped by him on a daily basis. It felt like he exactly for this purpose kept me and didn’t let my mom get an abortion. It is so freaking gross and embarrassing to tell this but I need to. 97% of all girls and women have been in any way sexually or physically assaulted. Almost the third part was raped, including me. Moreover, men, if you read this, just know, it’s safer for us to be aware of all men in order to not be taken advantage of. I say all men because you never know exactly who is going to do something with you. I know that it can be offensive but you have never been in our shoes. You don’t know what we feel, so basically you can’t blame us for that. In addition, a lot of men are also scared of other men. It makes me feel heartbroken to say that we have to adapt to this kind of world simply because we do not have other choices. So be respectful towards everyone, not just men you are afraid of. You have all the rights as long as you do not make others uncomfortable. It is that easy.
Men like dad deserve to be burnt in hell, then boiled and cut into millions of pieces. You are not a man, you are not a human if you dare to treat other people in an inappropriate and awful way. Amen.
Come Closer
I guess you already know what I am going to talk about. Sexual assault. It began when I was 5 as I said previously. Approximately 50 times I was raped by my dad. Fun fact: not only he has raped me. A lot of people told me that I am beautiful. Moreover, dad one time said to me that if I hadn’t been his daughter, he would have married me. Just imagine how much he's messed-up. After that, I always wear baggy clothes, never wash my hair, and talk with a really brute voice. It didn’t help me.
Not make women look like shit, even though most of them are shit, I was once raped by a woman. However, according to statistics, there are 99% psychos among women-rapists. Thus, I encountered a psycho. The experience was extremely weird, compared with men. But I told you that later.
So let’s kick off the first-reason story. I clearly remember that moment. Whereas a lot of other girls say that their brain just blocks all the memories from childhood. They don't remember the rape but also the whole childhood. I think I can clearly see the recollection because this is my dad, I see him every day, it has happened more than once, and I was absolutely sober each time.
When it happened for the first time, I, indeed, was sober. I could not prove him because I was a kid. I didn't even have boobs. I wasn’t mature even close. This pedofile just used me.
He picked me up from kindergarten where he was really amiably talking with my kindergartener. But I was always with some bruises and cuts and I thought that she would do something. I was sure that she would notice and take me away from this family. Unfortunately, that has never happened. I guess it is because of their salary. My kindergarten was utterly cheap and, I suppose, they weren’t paid enough. Then why did they have to care about children who were sexually and physically abused? They didn’t have to but if they did, they would save me and I wouldn’t end up like that, writing this not a book but rather a memoir. Really short memoir because my life ended three months ago when I got to jail with a life sentence.
The First Reason
He picked me up earlier. Usually, you have to take your kids at 5:00 AM. He did it two hours earlier, explaining that I had to go to Art School. I have never been to Art School. To say that it was weird, I can’t say this. I was a toddler who hated that place as I guess, everyone else. So I was happy to get out of there.
When I got home, he was really gentle. I have never seen him like that. He offered me his help to change my clothes. In kindergarten, all moms help their children to change their clothes. Consequently, I agreed. We were alone. No one was at home. He put me on his knees, which wasn’t super necessary. I was a bit big for this. He placed me in the way where I was pressed in his thigh. I was sitting like I was riding on a horse. You can imagine this because it’s hard for me to tell those details.
“I wish I forgot that moment but I remember it super vividly. Nevertheless, it’s okay. I’m a grown-up kiddo. I can handle this. Though I couldn’t when I was five.”
I felt that something was wrong. Dad had never been like this. He helped me to change my clothes. But still, he kept me on his knees, so I escaped. But he was angry because of this.
I entered the kitchen. He followed me. While he was cooking, I was doing my homework. He constantly looked back at me. It was creepy as hell. When he finished, I quickly ate and started to get ready for basketball practice. I tried to be as quick as possible but I mishandled this task. He began to ask me different questions, such as “Who are you a friend with?” “Whom do you tell about your day?”. When I told him that I’m busy and needed to go, he went crazy. He closed the door with the key, took away my key, and went to the bedroom. A 6-year-old girl aka me was extremely disappointed. Why does an adult act himself as a kid? I was like, what’s wrong with you? I want to go out with my friend. You never cared about me. Plus I started going out with friends two months ago. It sounds weird, I know but it is true.
In order to get out of that apartment, I went to the bedroom where he was. I still regret that decision. He caught me and threw me on the bed. My daddy had assaulted me before, so I knew that something was going to happen. I honestly do not want to talk about it because it’s a woefully traumatizing experience for me. I can just say that he raped me that day. It was a bright and sunny day. That’s it.
What Led Me
It hasn’t happened once. It was happening all the time. I couldn’t bear it anymore. Sorry for those who understand how I felt. I am extremely lucky that the police were not able to find out that it was us. Many victims of domestic abuse end up in jail just because they want a better life for themselves and had to kill those who caused the unbearable pain. In this situation, I am thankful to God for helping me.
Constant abuse by my dad was something out of line. I cried every single day and even more times wanted to kill myself.
He did not just abuse me. He abused everyone who was surrounding him. He did it with my sister. With my brothers when they weren’t old enough to resist him. He did it with his wife. With random women on the street. He felt completely unrestrained. He could touch them, hit them if something was wrong. He was real trash. He wasn’t a man nor human. He didn’t want to socialize. No friends, no relatives, no manners, nothing. He was nothing and has got nothing. I feel woefully embarrassed that I’m related to him.
Murder By Accident
I or better to say we killed him roughly one month after a mom’s “suicide”. I almost got caught before the reprisal of my siblings. But everything is okay right now, so do not worry if you do. I frankly was relieved after that. So many shitty situations happened in my life. I got such a great immune system that even a liar detector did not work on me. I was able to answer all the questions as they wanted me to. Later about it.
After his wife’s death, he started drinking even more. Almost every day he got home absolutely wasted which actually wasn’t really surprising. But one day he decided to beat the hell out of each member of the family. He started to beat my younger sister, then me, and then he became so brave and stupid that he started beating his sons which was kind of crazy. But it was fun. For the first time, my siblings and I had the opportunity to unite because we had the same enemy. However, that man took a knife, a really sharp one, and threw it at Steve. He got the knife in the arm. Gosh, he was injured really badly. The blood started to leak. That was the moment when I knew our dad was not going to survive through that night. And I was happy to realize it. Every fiber of my body was feeling relief. It was kind of shocking to be there, surrounded by the people who wanted revenge, witnessing the scene of murdering and being an accomplice.
That man was wasted and couldn’t control himself. He passed out three times. And when he was passed out for the last time, Steve ended up cutting his throat. It was awful. You should’ve seen that scene. It was disgusting. But we were all there together. Plus he ended up suffering, so we all helped Steve to get rid of the body. That’s what families do. They help each other out. I thought that after that we would always be friendly with each other but no. I’m not living in a fairytale, so I had to suffer new pain.
CHAPTER FOUR: AGNES
Better If I Ate Her In A Womb
The sentence above perfectly describes my relationship with my sister. Moreover, it goes both ways. I would’ve been over the moon if she had eaten me. And she would’ve been extremely excited if she hadn’t been born alive. You probably guess that everyone has such a relationship among siblings. But how dare you say it before I even started digging in. So probably you are allowed to say it after reading this chapter.
She is 19, only 2 years younger than me. But it feels like she is 35 and has tried everything out here. Agnes started smoking at 11 years old, drinking at 12. She tried weed at 14 and went to harder drugs at 17. Honestly, she was almost dead because of them when I killed her. So, I feel like I was a blessing for her. She had her first boyfriend at 13, first kiss at 13, and first sex at 13. She got a boyfriend in March, and a kiss and sex were in April. Pretty lucky girl, isn’t she? Or better to use the past tense ‘wasn’t she’ because she is dead. Stupid joke, I know. You know what? I just realized that this whole situation with my family actually kind of seems like “Shameless”. I haven’t watched “Shameless” but I heard a lot about this TV show, so I feel like it seems like this. All members of the family are messed up. Each of them is an embodiment of some kind of sin. But they didn’t kill one another which is good.
I actually was really happy to have a sister for some time. When I was six, I thought that I would finally get a friend. To say it today sounds weird. I thought that I was the only one kid in the world who didn't have a friend. In reality, I guess 37% of the population don’t have a friend at any age, my parents and a sister including. I have no idea what is supposed to be in a mom’s head to make daughters enemies. She constantly told one of us how bad the other one was. She even ripped three books of mine and told me that it was Agnes. I never believed it. I trusted my sister, and when she responded with ‘no’, I was sure that it wasn’t she who ripped my books. However, she has never believed me, even though I never gave a reason. I never lied to her because I wanted to have some kind of platonic relationship.
But our mommy brainwashed her naive brains and since her 6th birthday, she has never wanted to have something to do with me. Since that she called me a liar, bastard, bitch, motherfucker, morron, stupid chick, and cock-sucker, and so on. She never truly loved me. And I cannot say this. I guess you can truly love someone if that person even neutrally treats you. Or at least it works for me. So we have never got a chance to get to know each other.
To be honest, she was an interesting persona till 13, but then she became friends with a really bad company. I tried to tell her that people who offer you alcohol, cigarettes, and drugs are not your friends. But she refused to listen. Therefore, the situation became even worse. Once her friend told me that she was raped, and when I asked her about it, she told me that it was a mutual agreement. But I believed her friend. A girl told me that they were at the party, and some boys were drunk and decided to rape my sister. Agnes actually told her friend that she WAS really raped. Maybe she was afraid to tell me, but it is she who didn’t want to do anything with me. I perhaps will sound cruel but it’s her fault in the aspect of getting help. I could’ve helped her without her knowing but apparently it was not what she wanted.
She actually was the one who helped my brother to start using drugs. She was the one who always told my mom about my mistakes and troubles. She was the one who always helped mom to beat me. She was the one who threw my dog on the streets. (I still cannot find my Rory). She was the one who damaged my books, clothes, and other stuff. She was the one who stole my money. She was the one who embarrassed me at school. She was the one who embarrassed me at work. She was the one who slept with my boyfriend, but it’s his fault as well. She was the one who told my friends about my diagnosis, even though I didn’t want anyone to know. She was the one who ate my food when I was distracted for a bit, even though I was the only one who worked. She was the one who made my anxiety and depression worse. She was the one who dyed my hair in the black when I was asleep. She was the one who sold my laptop because she needed money to buy drugs. She was the one who put nuts in my soup, knowing that I am allergic to almonds.
She perfectly knew that I could’ve died because of those tree smashed pieces of almonds. However, she told me that she had not believed in such stuff and wanted to check. Of course, the girl didn’t study at school. She always skipped lessons and then she dropped out. She thought that if she was not allergic, therefore, everyone could not be allergic. A bright mind, isn’t she?
But, frankly, the situations above are not that bad. Read what I’m writing below. It is what can drive you crazy.
The Cost Of Drugs
It was June the 30st of 2019. I had turned 15 four weeks before it. That birthday was special because it was the anniversary of my job. It was the date of 1 year working. I started working as a cashier in a local market on June 1th. It was honestly a great experience for me. I had a really great boss who knew my situation and wanted to help. The only person who I am thankful for. But right now I am so embarrassed that I let him down. He was so determined to give me a better life and make me a better person. It’s the only moment when I’m embarrassed for sitting in jail and killing my family. So to make up for it I will write a chapter about him. I’m not gonna use any specific information about him, do if you read this, you can be calm. I’m not going to reveal your personal information for your own good.
For now, let’s get back to the story. For this little anniversary, I bought myself a laptop. Really expensive because I wanted to use that laptop for many years. Plus I could draw on this laptop because it had a sensor display. It was an extremely cool purchase, but everyone in my family was so jealous that I had such a great device. So for my own good I was almost all the time carrying it with me. But I guess you know what I want to tell you about.
On June the 31st I had my break day, so I slept till 11:00 am. But, unfortunately, that morning was a literal nightmare. I woke up and felt something wet on my head. I quickly ran to the bathroom and looked at the mirror. To say that I was shocked, there’s nothing to say. There are literally no words to describe my anger at that moment. Random parts of my hair were red, some of them black. She dyed my hair while I was asleep. How could you even come up with this kind of stuff? Dying someone’s hair while they are asleep is an extremely callous act. You cannot just do it. You have rights until you bother another person. And it’s a serious misdemeanor. She was not the brightest mind but this trick was kind of interesting. BUT STILL it wasn’t a prank with a lovely friend. It was an act of jealousy and rage. I decided not to live this situation as it was.
I went to the police and handled that with them. In the beginning, they didn’t want to help me. They thought that it was just a prank and I was taking it too seriously. So I told them the history of my family. Told you about all the misdemeanors of my family. I told them how she cut the hair of one girl at school without her permission. About her using drugs, constantly drinking alcohol as a 13-year-old. I told them about rape. Sorry, but it was too much for me. You should’ve seen their faces. They were like ‘okay, okay, okay, we’re gonna help you’. And they aided me in getting her. I filled out forms and a couple of letters. Then they decided that it would be better for her to do correctional labor for two weeks. I was so excited to hear that. Finally, she will get punished.
I got home in two hours, went to clean up my hair. Agnes followed me and started asking stupid questions.
“You look amazing with black and red hair”, pause.
“Even better with such style. Not concretely, not aligned. Perfect”, she was saying with such an ugly smile.
I was standing there embarrassed and humiliated. But I decided not to tell her about the police raid in one hour. The only one thing I had to do was keep her for an hour. It was Saturday, so the task was the easiest one. But she was constantly insulting me. It was hard to bear.
When I started to clean up my hair, only some of the paint was cleaned as expected. And she was standing there, watching me. Gosh, this girl was 16 at that time. She was almost an adult, she could think properly, she could do stuff that adults do, but she was not mature enough to not to do a thing that a 9-year-old could do.
As I was staying in that bathroom, she went somewhere. And came back with scissors. She threw those scissors at me. Little moron.
“I guess it is better if you just cut that hair. Or if you want to have a neat haircut, you should shave it off completely.”
“Can you for God’s sake just leave me alone? Get out.”
“No, honey. Don’t you dare to speak with me like this. Or you want to have yellow hair.”
“I am not going to fight with you. You have done enough. And soon you will be punished-”
“Ohh, I am so scared.”
“Your choice.”
I pushed her out of the bathroom and closed the door. I cut all of my hair. I was feeling really bad. And I had a good head shape, so I wasn’t afraid to be almost bald for a while. But I had to watch my sister so that the police could catch her. I heard the sound of a phone ringing. Only in twenty-three seconds did I realize that it was my phone. I quickly got out of the bathroom and ran to the phone. I saw Agnes speaking with the police. I heard her saying something like “Everything is okay. I don’t need you anymore.” And hang.
“You such a bastard.”, she told me.
“I know that I do bad stuff but calling the police on me? You crossed the line, sister.”, she was saying it with anger.
“Are you kidding me? You dyed my hair without my permission. It’s serious. I don’t consider you my sister, so I guess you deserve to be punished as a stranger did this. Look at me. I look like shit. This hair needs to grow for at least ten months.”
“So what? You’re gonna call the police every time something bad happens to you?”
“Yes. As you should.”
“Why would I call the police? I’m not like you. Everything is good with me.”
“You were raped at that party. And it would be fantastic to punish that piece of garbage.”
“Don’t you dare to talk with me about this. You’re not my friend. And you weren’t there. So shut your beautiful mouth up.”
“Okay. However, I’m going to speak about my problems and I'm not going to let random people ruin my life. I’m not sorry for calling the police. I’m sick of you. I’m sick of this messed up family.”
“Everyone is. You’re not the exception.”
“I perfectly know it, honey. But if everyone tried to handle the situation, not just complain.”
“Okay. Okay. You’re better than everyone in this family.”
“No. I just want a better life.”
“What the freak is your definition of a better life? Want to go to college? Get a job? Dog, a kid?”
“Shut up. I’m not gonna share it with you. And sorry, for my goals. I see they offend you that much.”
Tense pause. It was really awkward.
“You’re gonna regret what you did.”, she said.
“Oh. I’m going to regret what you did with hair. Pretty fair.” I yelled in her back as she went away from me.
At that moment I did not know what she would do to me several hours later.
I decided not to pay that much attention to the dyed hair. I thought that she would stop messing with me after that conversation, even though she told me that I was going to regret something. Everyone can say anything when they are angry.
I went on a walk with my dog. Oh, I actually still have not introduced you to my dog. It’s Vivien. My lovely labrador. She is 3 years old. I’m her only owner. Never let my family even touch her. I’m trying to be always with her. She’s my best friend and I love her so much.
But who knew that while I was on a walk, she would sell my laptop. She sold my laptop. Gosh, I wish I could explain my feelings better but it was humiliating and disgusting.
So how was it? I came back home and wanted to do some stuff on the laptop. I didn’t find it on my desk where I usually left. I did not panick ‘cause I did not expect it to happen at all. I tried to find it in other rooms. No success. Then I started panicking. Everyone was at home, so I decided to suspect them all. No one loved me there. Therefore, everyone could steal my laptop. I asked everyone if they saw my laptop and, Thank God, my brother said that he had seen Agnes with my laptop. But Agnes wasn’t at home! It meant that she brought it with her outside. I truly saw my whole life passing by me. This girl just wants my death. I didn’t know where she went, so there was no point in wandering on the streets. I decided to wait till she got home in order to beat the shit out of her in order to get what I want.
She came back in almost two hours. I saw no laptop in her hands. “Cool, she threw it somewhere.” – was my very first thought. I went to her.
“Where is my laptop? I know that you took it.”
“I have no idea where it is.”
“Don’t you dare to act like you don’t where it is.”
“I have no-”
It was the last drop. I started beating so hard and screaming about my laptop. I don’t expect you to understand what I went through. But that laptop cost $1000 and it was kind of A LOT for me. Plus, my sister is not trust-worthy. No one could believe her. And my brother saw her with my laptop and she was the one who threatened me to do something bad. I hit her in the table and then in the wall. She was weaker than me, so I could do anything to her. Honestly, I felt that she deserved that.
“Okay. Stop it. I’ll tell you.” she screamed at me.
I stopped, waiting for her to breathe in.
“I didn’t want to do it. But you forced me-”
“I forced you? God, do you know that you cannot damage someone’s property? You can get in jail. You are so stupid.”
“I sold it in the Lombard.”
Tense moment. Really tense. I wanted to kill her. I wanted to choke her. I wanted to execute her.
“Are you kidding me? You seriously sold my $1000 laptop to the Lombard because I yelled at you for dying my hair?”
“Yes.”
“You need to see a psychiatrist. Or even dozens of them. But for now, I need you to tell me which freaking Lombard did you choose?”
“ That is in the center across from Walmart.”
“Okay. And now you give me $1000 and I buy my laptop. I guess it’s fair since you sold it for no reason.”
“I had my reasons.”
“No, you did not. You sold my laptop because you’re a psycho. There was no severe reason, believe me.”
“I don’t have this amount of money.”
“How much do you have?”
“I’m not gonna give you any money.”
“Okay. Okay. I’m gonna take them by myself.”
I went to our room. Yes, we lived in the same room. She followed me and tried to prevent me from digging in her bags and stuff. But I’m stronger. I knew that in this family only the strongest and the smartest can survive. So I was the strongest and the smartest. She couldn’t beat me. It was actually hilarious to see her trying to beat me. And I hit her once and she fell back.
I was trying to find some money. I knew that she had been stealing, so deep in my heart, I hoped to find even more.
Evrika. $745 was lying under her pillow. I took everything and went to the Lombard. She was crying on the floor when I went. I did not wear a coat, though it was kind of freezing on the streets but I did not care. I ran to the Lombard as quickly as possible. Finally I reached it. Entered and with a confident stride. The man-cashier was kind of disgusting. He was eating something with literally no manners. Food was all around the place. He was fat, ragged, and I was curious how he could work in that place.
“Good day, sir. I was wondering if you have a laptop or computer.”