 I guess I wasn't a very good girl scout after all. If you love true revenge stories of nuclear proportions, you found the best place for your vengeful needs. In this episode, we start off with a predator grandfather, who suffers his granddaughter's killer smile, quite literally. Followed by a protective brother who learns about a dark family secret, and goes nuclear to protect his younger sisters. Lastly, false accusations turn innocent man into a predator. With a drunk like button get in your car, confirm you're the Uber. But when the real Uber texts him to ask where he is, turn on your vengeful side by locking the doors, speeding off and drop him in the middle of nowhere. Let's dive in. Naturally, viewer discretion is advised. These revenge acts might be disturbing to snowflakes. I'm sharing this story with you, but I never told my dad any of this. If I did tell him, I risked him harming my grandfather, which would mean I would end up in the system if he went to jail, and there were no other family members to take me in. After my revenge, I also never told dad, because he would have felt he was unable to protect me, as he was a single father. So when I was a young girl, I was molested by a few different people, on different occasions. But one almost broke my spirit, but I got my revenge in the end. Being little and in the fourth grade, there wasn't much I could do physically, but I bided my time. After being held out of school by my grandfather, who told me to put on a dress that was much too small and wanted me to sit on his lap. I did neither, but a degree of molestation occurred anyway. I felt dirty, degraded, but most of all I was pissed. To deal with it, I threw myself even farther into my schoolwork and I waited. While my anger just grew. My father who worked nights, was asleep in his room before his shifts started. My grandfather and I were in the living room watching television, he and his recliner and I on the couch. He started making noises like a puppy, as he fell down from his chair on his stomach, forcing the air from his lungs and vomited into the small trash can next to his chair. He proceeded to grab his chest and looked at me. Confused, I asked if he was okay, and all he could utter was, er, er. I knew from CPR training from the girl scouts, that he was having a heart attack. I sat on the couch and held eye contact with him smiling. I waited and smiled, and waited, and waited, until he fell unconscious, and it was likely too late for anything to be done before getting my dad, and telling him what was happening in the living room. Dad called 9-1-1, and the ambulance came to take the old man away, and I was sent to the neighbor's house, while dad followed the ambulance in his own vehicle. The old pervert died in the hospital, and I had to play the tearful granddaughter at the funeral. I guess I wasn't a very good girl scout after all. I would like to warn anyone who has faced abuse in the past, as parts of my story may be triggering to some, and to anyone who has faced abuse in the past, I do feel deeply sorry for you. Our story is unbelievable, I get that, but with sharing our story, I want to bring awareness that these things are still happening to other kids. This is basically the story of how my family felt they were entitled to both of my sister's bodies, and I wouldn't stand for that. It sounds weird like that, but it will make more sense when we get deeper into it. So I started a revolution in my entitled family, to protect my younger sisters. I am currently the custodian of my two little sisters, Amy who is 17 and Liza who is 8, it's not their real names for obvious reasons, I am a 29 male and we live in Australia. I am called potato, as that's what Liza calls me nowadays. My family was odd, but growing up, I did not notice this before. Looking back, you can say I was groomed in a way. As a man, I was taught I could treat the woman in my family how I wanted, but I was never really a violent person or driven by some needs. I was a jerk and although I have anger issues at time, taking it out on other people is not something I ever saw effective. Unfortunately, it never really clicked in my head that if I was being taught that, what were they teaching my sisters behind my back? The main part of our story takes place about a year ago. But the very beginning starts six years before that. It was six years before, I moved to another state for work and to study. The older one of my sisters, Amy, was taken out of school to be homeschooled. I was honestly really slack with keeping contact with my family, which is probably why this went on so long unnoticed by me. When I do think back to the time before I moved out, I didn't treat Amy the best, and if I hadn't moved out and had so little contact with my family, I may have turned out just as entitled and as much of a horrible person. Therefore I blame myself, because of how long this went on and do my best to make amends for it, by showing them the love and support they need now. So back to the story, I came back to visit for a grandparents' birthday, after spending so long away, I spent the morning catching up with aunts, uncles, cousins, my parents of course and Liza. Now this was actually the first time I'd really realized the oddities of my family. Once it was the change in environment, a few of my roommates had little sisters and what not after all, but it was the first time I'd noticed how quiet the little girls of my family were. I guess I'd always just thought of Amy as shy and quiet, but my little cousins were so much the same in politeness, shyness, quiet and obedient. Though at the time I brushed this off. After a few hours, I realized that Amy was nowhere to be seen all day. The party was at my parents' house so this confused me, and I slipped inside to see if she was cooped up in her room, like a lot of 16 year olds would do, talking to friends or doing assessments. What I found is a memory that will haunt me forever. My oldest uncle on my father's side, laying over my sister, who was quite clearly in a lot of pain and struggling not to cry as he pinned her beneath him. I completely lost it as any brother would, shouting at him to get off her and out of her room. I scared the hell out of both of them, but in that moment, I was honestly ready to kill my uncle. Amy was pretty messed up in the head, when I tried consoling her. I noticed she was covered in scars, had a rash over her body, that I later found out was an allergic reaction to strawberries. She didn't speak to me and looked at me as if she expected for me to hurt her too. Her room was dimly lit, the blinds taped close to her wall, all the things she'd had when I left were gone. Taking her bedroom feeling cold and empty, and to add insult to injury, she was a month's pregnant. When I demanded an explanation from my parents, they said, and I'm paraphrasing here, that it was my uncle's right and my father simply pointed out one of my 11-year-old cousins sitting quietly with her parents and told me to, have fun. I stormed off back to Amy's room, quietly packed her a bag of necessities and managed to sneak her out of the house and into my car, before doing the same with Liza. Part of me wanted to get all my cousins out too, but my main focus was on Amy right now, who sat trembling in the back of my car. I drove them both to the closest police station to report what was happening. I'll skip most the details of the legal battle that ensued, but my family did not take kindly to being outed for what they were doing. It was a family tradition that spanned generations, and there shouldn't be anything wrong with tradition they thought. Amy and Liza were put into temporary foster care, Amy was wrecked. To her, everyone could and would hurt her and I got reports every few hours, that she was having a panic attack. Three of my uncles went to jail for a very long time, I got a fair bit of money out of a range of family members, full custody of both Amy and Liza, no enforced visitation from their parents. My parents had to pay for any therapy costs, medication and medical needs for both of them. My family was torn in two by this, uncles who had married into the family, took their wives, who had also been abused, and cut off ties. Many of my aunts leaving their husbands with their children, after finally having the courage to follow me. I still keep in contact with these members of my family and I'm grateful for their support and glad that my cousins are safer now. Even some of the older guys who had been brought up thinking it was okay to treat women that way, took themselves into counseling, once they realized just how messed up it was. I've had more than one instance, where they admitted to hurting Amy and apologized, which I've accepted. As these cousins did their best to take their siblings or other cousins out of harmful environments. Now, I do believe some part of the ruling protected the younger men of the family, provided they see some form of mental health professional, as they grew up thinking that this was all normal. So they didn't end up in jail, but did end up on some list of possible sex offenders, not entirely sure there. No one is sure who fathered Amy's child, but she had her pregnancy terminated, as we were told her physical and mental health would not cope with carrying a baby, she ultimately would unlikely care for. She did consent at the time and it was brought up by her psychologist once she was doing better. And she confirmed that she would have no love, for the baby due to the circumstances which she fell pregnant. For six years, Amy had been physically, sexually, mentally and emotionally abused in every way conceivable. This mostly came from my father's four brothers and brother-in-law who married into the family. My parents both stood by and let this happen, offering no support for Amy. During the case, my uncles argued it was their birthright being born into their family and it was simply Amy's right of passage before she was married off to one of my uncle's mates at 18. They used her allergy as a form of torture and manipulation, wanting her to be silent and obedient. They would press strawberries against her skin, anytime she said a word and force her to eat them when she stepped too far out of line. A lot of my aunts from my father's side admitted to enduring this treatment also, although most of them were lucky and didn't have allergies to exploit. I honestly can't even begin to explain everything that was wrong with Amy because of their behavior. Liza, for the most part, was okay. She needed a little therapy as she was being groomed into compliance and taught that what she would experience was normal. But Amy had completely shut down. It took two months before I could even get her to speak. She trusts me now and we often sit down, and I let her talk and open up about whatever she feels comfortable to. Her stories often have me struggling to hold back tears while I comfort her. I did get Amy a service dog a few months ago, tailored towards the emotional support she needs on a regular basis. Lickety Split honestly is the best of good doggies. She knows exactly when she's needed and is a massive help when it comes to calming Amy's anxiety, especially in public. We've had more than one encounter with unrelated entitled parents thinking they or their kid deserves her dog more than her. No one deserves her dog more than her, but that's a different story for another time. On one occasion, one of my aunts whose husband went to jail tried taking Lickety Split because their money paid for her. I told her, if she ever comes near my property again, I would call the police, as there was a restraining order against her towards both my sisters. Later, she came back and tried to poison Lickety Split with tainted meat, but one of my lovely neighbors caught her and chased her off. Police were called, she is now in jail too after having to pay a fine and some money to me because at this point, I'm pretty well acquainted in the legal system and suit her. My family still tried to get my sisters out of my care, reporting me for everything. From animal abuse to drug trafficking. They planted drugs in an identical stuffed toy to Amy's comfort toy and left it in the yard, but Amy would never do that, so I knew something was up immediately. Home security systems work wonders. I've actually become pretty chummy with the local police officers who have to inspect their claims, but they know I'd never do anything to endanger my custody over the girls, they mean the world to me. I will admit though, I have done things to hurt my bond with them, raising my voice when stressed and throwing things from time to time, but I'm working on it. Amy has told me that although these moments do scare her, she doesn't feel endangered being near me when they happen, I also spoil them when they do happen. A few weeks ago, my mother contacted me, saying she wanted to talk. I was hesitant, but agreed and we met up in the next town over, no way I could be followed home. My mother explained how she was in the process of divorcing my father and she wanted to have a relationship with me and my sisters, with emphasis on mending her bond with Amy, who had not called her mom in years. She explained how she was pressured into the marriage after she gotten pregnant with me and never wanted that life for her daughters. I flat out told her, no. This was something several members of my family disagreed with, as she could have done literally anything to support Amy while she was abused, even if it was only emotionally. Instead, she was shunned and isolated, except for when she was needed to cook, clean or provide some sort of service to the family. Even going as far as to berate her daughter whenever she did try to confide in my mom, when Amy was in pain or scared. Amy was well past her breaking point when I took her and had even planned on killing herself less than a week after my visit. My mother argued that she had the same right as the other members of my family, who had left and had contact with my sisters. But I told her it was because they were doing it to protect their children and themselves, they didn't wait a year after losing custody to try and fight for them. And I really don't even need to give a reason, I have custody and she does not. When Amy is in a better place mentally and Liza is older, I bring it up in conversation to them, leave the decision in their hands. I've been told Amy will be a dependent well after she turns 18, her mind just doesn't function properly, so there is no risk of her mother getting into contact behind my back even when she's an adult. Amy does have a phone and a computer, she doesn't have any social media as she doesn't want any chance of her family trying to contact her, as they've threatened her with many forms of torture in the past. This story doesn't have a slam dunk ending, I have my sisters and they're in a safe environment where they'll get to grow up as kids. Amy is getting the help she needs and is slowly making her way out of the tower she built to protect herself in the only way she could, but she knows there isn't a rush to come out. I'll work with her at the pace she sets. She's still discovering her own interests, she so far is just reading a book with a form of fruity tea. I've loved helping Amy discover herself, she lost a lot of her ability to think and feel for herself during this time. Watching her find her favorite book genre or her favorite types of music is a great feeling, knowing how far she's come and I live for the day she actually manages a smile. This isn't my story, it's my grandma's. She was a nurse and when I asked her what the worst thing she'd seen happen to someone she treated was, she told me this. In the 80s, this woman falsely accused a black man of sexually assaulting her. The prosecutors barely had any evidence, but the jury still found him guilty. He was in prison for about 10 years or so. He got out early when new evidence showed it wasn't him. He gets out. This dude tracked down this woman and actually did what she falsely accused him of, so he did everything to her from A to Z. She ended up with a broken eye socket, missing teeth, dislocated arm and a few broken ribs. He then needed, he was never caught, he just ghosted. How they knew it was him? Because they already had his DNA at some point after arresting him. The kit showed it was a match. Thank you for enjoying this episode, which was made with artificial love. Subscribe or give royal ASMR sugar by avenging the like button. Could you imagine doing one of these acts yourself? Share your experience below. I'll join the conversation.