My parents laughed as my brother killed baby animals.

When we were taken into foster care, I was 8, Breanna was 5, Patience was 4, Dean was 2 and Moses was 11 months.  We were all little kids.  So, a few years went by and we all grew.  Moses was probably 3 at the first incident. 

Growing up, we were only allowed to have outside animals.  I agree because 5 kids with 5 different favorite animals could get to be a handful.  I always had grown up with animals, so having outside animals were a reason to look forward to going outside.  

My beloved pet was a dog aptly named Spot.  He was a little dog that could run very fast.  He and I would race on my bike.  Any opportunity I had to be outside with him, I was.  He was a patient and loving dog.  He and I would curl up and he would sleep while I looked at the cloud.  I was able to talk to him about anything and he would listen no matter what. His death was very hard on me, but his love tempered the pain. 

I believe people are to have that type of love for animals.  They are innocent and love us with all their hearts if we give them food.  My husband and I just adopted a little cat named Chinny from the Humane Society.  I just talked to one of the workers and she said that Chinny never had one on one time.  I stay at home, so Chinny is past out from my playing with her. The love I have for her is amazing since I only had her since 8:30pm on Saturday the 1st. 

From a very young age, Moses showed signs of animal harm.  We had two female cats that would give birth to kittens every few months.  We were too young to know about spaying.  Our cats would have litters and we would all pick out our favorite babies. Usually there were more than 5 babies, so it worked out good.  We would eagerly wait for their eyes to be opened so we could play with them.  

However, some litters never made it that far.  Moses was evil.  There is no other word for it.  One day when he was about 3, we came home from school to see him outside with our beloved babies.  Of course we three girls, rushed over there to make sure everything was OK, it wasn’t.  All but one of those babies were dead.  Moses had strangled a few and threw others off the back porch.

When we went sobbing inside to tell our parents, they just laughed.  They told us that we didn’t need anymore cats.  They were glad someone did something about them.  Then our dad went on to say that the next litter he was going to put in a bag with some rocks and sink it in the river.

Sure enough, a few months later, some gorgeous kittens were born.  We haggled over the babies and cooed over them with love.  I was partial to a grey tabby.  She was such a sweet little kitty.  She died in my hands. 

Moses was in the back yard spinning around in circles.  He had one kitten by the tail.  The screams that came from that baby are only drowned out by the laughter of my 6 year old brother.  He twirled it around and We (the three girls)  screamed. We ran and tried to catch it before it hit the ground, but we were too late.  It died on impact.  We screamed for our parents.  They came out laughing, they had watched the whole thing from the kitchen window.  While they fussed over us for crying over a dumb cat, Moses killed the rest of the litter. 

I clearly remember walking in a fog and picking up my kitty.  I carried it to the front yard and sat on a thing people attach to the back of trucks to pull things.  Moses had thrown my cat against the van.  It was barely breathing.  I prayed so hard for the kitten, but knew she was going to die.  So I held her and petted her and whispered that I loved her.  It took an agonizing thirty minutes for her to go and as she died, she finally opened her eyes.  They were a gorgeous clear blue.

After that, Moses would hurt others.  He got away with it with animals, so he moved to people.  He would punch me and pull my hair sometimes.  Screaming only made the pain worse. He liked it when I screamed.  Begging him to stop only made him dig in even harder.  

Once, he choked me until I saw stars.  The only reason I wasn’t killed was because my brother Dean stepped in and stopped him. After that, it was beatings. 

One of the worse times he ever hurt me was when I had come home from college.  I was on my laptop doing homework.  I had my own pillow that I left at home for when I came home I could have it.  Well, he used it when I was at school and I used it when I came home.  So, I took my pillow just like the deal we had made.  He came in the room and pulled me by my hair off the bed. He began punching me and kicking me and screaming.  I was in the fetal position trying not to scream because it would last longer.  When he was done my dad came back and asked what was going on.  Moses said I stole his pillow and I said it was mine.  I had to give him my pillow because my dad wouldn’t listen to my side.

I would go back to college with bruises under my clothes.  My BF would ask me where they came from and when I said my brother, he asked why I didn’t beat him up.  Well, Moses was shorter than me, but he was much stronger and weighed about twenty pounds more than me.  I was weak and puny.  I really was.  I still am. 

There was no way I could have taken him in a fight.  Any time I complained about him, my dad would tell me to stop being a Wussy.  If I cried, I was told I should be able to take a punch.  I was forced to have long hair, so it was perfect for pulling and dragging.  Anytime I would beg for them to do something, my parents would just laugh and tell me to take it.

I have been doing research lately.  I had told my parents that Moses hurting animals was a sign of mental illness, but they just laughed if off saying he was just helping them rid the house of annoying animals.  I have found out that hurting animals is a very clear sign that something is wrong. The fact that when he became a pre-teen and started hurting humans shows that he will one day kill someone.  He still hurt animals if he was outside, but inside he would hurt me.  

I can’t understand how parents can laugh in the face of the impending doom of their kid.  The thing is they think he is perfect.  Maybe he will outgrow it, but research doesn’t think so.  I know in my heart what Moses is capable of.  I just hope one day someone wakes up and stops him before he kills someone.  

 

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6 Comments

  1. Your brother sounds like having a terrible mind, really really sick.
    My soul was crying, when I read this story. I love animals and can’t stand, when they are mistreated or abused in any way.
    I hope, that your brother goes to a closed house, without possibilities to ever come out again. He is really sick.
    Irene

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  2. Noah is a young carbon copy of his biological father. He also looks just like him. I had thought that getting the kids away from their father would be best, but Noah brings the whole nature / nurture debate into question. Yes the things he is doing warrant his need of help……. being someone hooked on the ID channel and having been to college…. Noah is displaying all of the classic signs of a killer in training. It could be that I am reading too much into it, but he definitely needs to be evaluated. There are also many mental health issues that run in my side of the family as well as his father’s. Although in mine few are actually inherited. I personally suffer Bi-Polar disorder, PTSD, anxiety and depression. My mother had dementia. On his dad’s side – I would not know where to begin listing the mental disorders in that family. Sociopath is the easiest way I know. Narcissistic personalities, dementia and a plethora of others. It’s sad because the parents that have raised him do not see these things in him and deny anything is wrong. I doubt they could be convinced to seek help for Noah. Pray for him is all we can do. I will be here waiting for him, when he turns 18 maybe then I can help him in the ways he needs. Until then all I can do is love him and pray for him.

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