Story: Revenge of a Psycho Orphan

Written Dec. 9, 2011
Story: Revenge of a Psycho Orphan

I was a mental patient. Years and years of scolding and neglect had made me this way. Night after night I lay in bed thinking of revenge, but I never had the power to act upon any of my plans. Anger boiled in my veins because of the injustice I faced, but I hid it behind a plain face.

My parents had died when I was 6 and since then I was being raised by my paternal uncle and his wife. I wasn’t abused but did get a good scolding or beating every time I wasn’t behaving according to their standards. And I never got any love. The difference between how I was treated and how my cousins were treated made the hurt even more. If cousins were bad to me, they were told that wasn’t how one treats their cousin. If I was bad to them, I got a beating and a lecture, being told that I was an ungrateful child and how much my uncle and aunt had done for me, etc. etc.

Not to mention the fact that they were stealing my money. My parents’ money. Oh they made it legal, but I knew they were being intensely unjust. My uncle took payment for taking care of me and for giving me a room in the house. My aunt charged the highest rate for babysitting. Even when I was 14 and didn’t need a babysitter, she charged for babysitting every moment I was in the house. So I tried staying outside as much as I could, playing with the neighbours, playing in the yard. I had to save my money. Although it was not of much benefit.

When I reached the ninth grade and learned of different careers, my revenge plans changed. I started dreaming of becoming a lawyer and suing all the unjust people, starting with my cruel aunt and uncle. Oh I still wanted to kick them real hard once in a while, but I set that aside, focusing on my studies instead. If I studied hard enough, I could get a scholarship and go to college. It was what made me survive. One day I would get revenge. Proper revenge.

However, my dreams were seemingly short-lived. Just a few weeks before graduating from the tenth grade, I overheard my uncle and aunt talking about my marriage to some old rich man.

“He will pay a good dowry,” Uncle said.

“It will be good to get rid of her. I am starting to fear her,” Aunt said. “She has a strange glint in her eyes sometimes. Like she’s making plans.”

I knew they were talking about me.

The next day, when I entered the kitchen, my aunt announced, “We have come to a decision.”

“I am not getting married,” I replied. “I am going to become a lawyer.” And sue you, I added silently.

“You will do as we say,” she said.

“I will not,” I said.

“You will get married to the man we have chosen for you.” She went on, ignoring me. “He is a good man who will take care of you well. Be glad...”

But I didn’t hear the rest. My head burned with anger and my eyes started blurring. My life’s dreams were about to be crushed. The next second, I had grabbed a jar from the table and thrown it at her. It missed her but shattered against the cabinet door beside her.

Well, I got a good beating afterwards. And was sent to my room and told I couldn’t come down until I learned to respect my elders.

That night, after spending the whole day locked in the room, something came over me and I couldn’t help what I did next. I tried jumping out the window. But jumping out of a second floor window was the craziest idea and I landed with the most awful pain in my leg. I couldn’t move my leg from the pain and lay on the cold lawn the rest of the night. The next day I was found by my uncle.

“What are you doing down here,” he said.

“Enjoying the cool morning, Uncle,” I retorted.

He slapped me. Then told me to get up, which of course I couldn’t do. When he tried to make me get up, I screamed involuntarily.

My aunt came out to see what was the matter. “Call the police,” She cried when she found out what had happened. “She is a danger to herself and us.”

And so the police and paramedics were called. I was taken to hospital and treated, getting surgery and a splint placed on my broken leg. Then shifted to the mental ward.

“Suicidal.” The doctor said. “Could be a danger to others. Might be schizophrenic.”

I stayed there a few weeks and was placed on psychiatric medication to “control my unruly mind.”

Fine with me. As long as it stopped the marriage. The man I was to marry learned of my situation and cancelled the marriage plans. When I returned home, a nurse was hired to take care of me. And my aunt took a nursing course. So she could take over the job in some time.

“I don’t need a nurse.” I told them. “I am fine.”

But they didn’t accept. To them, it was necessary that I had a full time nurse. And who better to do the job than a family member. I knew that a nurse charged more than a babysitter. There goes the rest of my money.

Once summer was over I was informed that I couldn’t restart school. I was a nutcase and couldn’t be let out of their watch. Not at all fit for school. It made me madder than ever and I wanted to kick them. But, considering my broken leg, that was not possible.

But revenge stayed foremost in my mind. Someday, I would get revenge.

Nearly a year later, I was in the car with my aunt and uncle, and my uncle was driving at super high speed. Something started to happen to my mind from being on the road too long. I was starting to feel nauseated and my head was throbbing with a heated sensation. “You should slow down, Uncle,” I said. “What if you have an accident?”

Aunt turned around and smirked at me, as if I was mad, while Uncle said, “I didn’t learn to drive yesterday.”

My mind was a blur. My veins were boiling. I was mad. Mad at the cruel treatment. Mad from not being allowed to return to school even though my leg was healed. Mad at my life being destroyed right before my eyes. Mad that I would fail at taking revenge on cruel relatives who had stolen so much of my money. Mad. Mad. Mad.

My mind started to twirl. The heated sensations in my brain increased. My eyes blurred and I could no longer know or control what was happening. All I knew was that I had raised my hands, placing them on uncle’s eyes so he couldn’t see. He shrieked, trying to remove my hands and also control the car, while my aunt started screaming and struggled to get my hands off, but to no avail. My hands had a strength I had never felt before and my aunt and uncle couldn’t get them off. Losing control of the car, the car swerved to the left and crashed into the wall of the highway.

Soon police surrounded us. We were taken to hospital. Uncle died instantly while Auntie lived a few hours to tell the details of the accident. Then she died too from head injury. I had a broken hand and some injuries but nothing fatal.

Once again I landed in the mental hospital, this time permanently. While my three cousins, aged 4, 8, and 12, were taken by Uncle’s cousin.

They come to visit me sometimes in the hospital. I hear they aren’t happy. Their new foster family charges high amounts for taking care of them and for babysitting. And don’t treat them well.

What goes around comes around.

I’m not too happy in the mental institute. The food is terrible and I get high medication which gives me a pacifying feeling but also puts me to sleep much of the time. However, I was allowed to get enrolled in a correspondence school, studying a pre-law high school course. I put all my effort to study. I am going to become a lawyer. I promised my cousins this. And then I will fight for their and other orphan’s rights.

For now, this will do.

Closing my eyes, I dream of court cases where I take revenge on cruel foster parents.

The end.

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Read my other stories:
Dreams Do Come True
Fighting Temptation
Some Mistakes are Worth Not Regretting