Dearest Alice Edwards/ Demon Mother/ Inhuman Jackal Lady,
I have received all of your incessant emails and I am compelled to thank you profusely, as they were quite interesting reading! THIS was my favorite!:
AS PER YOUR WISH TO CANCEL THE VERBAL THREE MONTH TEMPORARY LIVING ARRANGEMENT, CASEY WILL LEAVE ON OR BEFORE AUGUST 31, 2009 VERSES OCTOBER 31, 2009. WITH THAT SAID, PLEASE MAIL THE $375 SECURITY DEPOSIT TO:
666 SON-OF-A-JACKAL BLVD
ST. AUGUSTINE, FL 33666
THE SECURITY DEPOSIT SHOULD BE RETURNED WITHIN 15 DAYS AFTER CASEY VACATES, OR, ON OR AROUND SEPTEMBER 15, 2009. THANK YOU.
I looked over the paper trail you threatened me with and it appears as though I was completely within my rights. As a matter of fact, I predict it will be a bestseller! Your end of the “deal” may have included paying rent, but I also asked for other things~ respect, security and comfort in my home were also part of the agreement and I dealt with a terrific amount of situations in which I should never (Never! Never! Never!) have been placed. All you see is that I kicked your son out and broke MY end of the agreement, but I only broke it because I had made a pact with the very devil!!! And it was the devil that sent the beast!
Every single promise that was made to me by either you or Casey was badly and quickly broken. If he’d cared about staying, events would have played out differently and everything would be peaches and cream now. I shall now take you on a guided tour of the month I endured; only the highlights of course, there was a problem every single day and I don’t want to have to type that much!
On July 17th, 2009, you emailed me for the first time~ you stated your son was
“eighteen, white, educated and mature” with a “wonderful, serious girlfriend”~ I now know the only true part of that statement was that he was indeed WHITE. We emailed back and forth for awhile and finally exchanged numbers. On July 24th, you called me and I told you that you and your son were welcome to come and look at the place. I heard you announce to Casey that I said he could have the room, but I quickly cut you off and corrected you: “No, I will consider you if the meeting goes well.” You stumbled on your words for a second, then apologized and asked to come see the place; I gave you my address, then went and vacuumed the stairs, as it was the height of shedding season. You arrived before I finished and I went outside to meet you.
You introduced me to little Casey, a slight, fair-haired wigger punk dressed in baggy clothes and trying to act tough with a cigarette tucked behind his ear. I giggled at that and I reached out my hand to shake his; he didn’t take it, probably because he was hiding the mark of the Beast. I shrugged it off and took you upstairs, where you announced that everything was “perfect”; you then agreed with everything I said. You stressed to Casey that it was my apartment and he would have to follow my rules. At
this point, we went over things like taking turns with dishes, cleaning the common areas and splitting electric and I asked Casey questions directly, but you were the one who answered them, even when you had to cut him off to do so. I then mentioned I was keeping the lease in my name so I could kick people out at will. You said directly, “Oh, you want him gone, he’s outta here.”
Looking at the cigarette behind his ear, I went over the smoking porch~ I pointed out the furniture, which I had just finished paying off. I stressed no cigarettes in the house ever and you casually mentioned Casey’s “occasional” weed habits. You mentioned you also smoked pot because you had MS but that you were outside smokers~ I said no cigarettes in the house, but that we had smoked weed inside on occasion. I said I never bought it, but that my friends and I sporadically smoked it in the house. You suddenly grew very nervous and flustered, gesturing anxiously and answering questions I hadn’t asked: “He smokes a little bit of pot, but nothing else! Nothing else ever! Nothing else. Nuh-uh.” I found this odd and mentioned it to my friends later. At one point you even slipped and mentioned he was seventeen, but made it seem he would be eighteen very shortly. Great. Even the kid’s MOM was a liar.
I met you for lunch the next day, as I was getting more and more desperate~ I told you about interviewing Tiairamiqua because it had been awhile since I’d heard a good ghetto name and you made a couple comments I felt bordered on racial slurs. This made me uncomfortable, but I offered you a trial, stating he would have thirty days notice if I kicked him out. I mentioned that if he compromised my life, endangered me in any way or did anything that wasn’t completely on the up and up, the deposit would be put in jeopardy . . . you assured me he was “very mature for his age” and either you were positive that wouldn’t happen or just really anxious to be rid of your son. There was tons about the arrangement I didn’t trust and I had you both pegged as liars, but all the same, he moved in that weekend.
Next time just go on Oprah, like a normal person. Please.
Casey’s first night wasn’t bad~ we sat and talked with my stupid “boyfriend”, who soon left, then we sat and talked without him. He’d come home with a bike he said he bought off a bum for five dollars~ it seemed sketchy, I knew that bike had to have been stolen and I felt bad for whoever it had belonged to. He helped himself to the beer and I honestly didn’t think about it~ wasn’t MY responsibility. We went over ground rules and I stressed the importance of trust and honesty in my home. He said he agreed with me completely and actually confessed a lot of things~ he told me you had instructed him to say he was eighteen, that he didn’t really like his girlfriend all that much and that he had quite the history with drugs. I did a double take when he mentioned a cocaine overdose, but told him as long as he was honest with me, we should be fine. I started to feel slightly uncomfortable that Adam had gone home. The “mature, educated 18-year old” with a “wonderful, serious girlfriend and no drug history” was really a seventeen year old high school dropout who referred to his girlfriend as “Dumb Bitch” and had both a marijuana arrest and a cocaine overdose on his record. I had been fooled. Badly.
~The next day I laid in bed all morning, text-fighting with my stupid “boyfriend”, then I heard you come over and take the kid shopping. I went out to greet you when you came back, but no one really seemed to notice my presence. You apologized for waking me up, so I told you that you hadn’t woken me~ I noticed there was a little boy I had never seen before staring at me (I assumed Casey’s little brother, though honestly YOU should be sterilized), but no one bothered to introduce me and this put me off~ I get offended when people do something so rude as to bring someone new into my home and not introduce me.
That night Casey came to my bedroom door to ask if he could have friends over~ I told him yes, but to try to keep it short. He said, “But how long? An hour? Two hours?” I was stunned~ was he actually asking me for a specific time limit???? I realized I was babysitting.
He introduced me to his friends (a nerdy, awkward kid and a small Asian girl) and we smoked a bowl~ they helped themselves to the beer I had just bought that afternoon, but I didn’t say anything except to not drink anymore because I didn’t want to embarrass Casey. I made a note to discuss it with him later. They didn’t know what Rocky Horror was, I made a joke about MacGyver, whom they’d never heard of . . . they discussed Zac Effron and something called “Gangsta Grillz” . . . I don’t know who Ed Hardy is! I mentioned I’d been watching Beverly Hills 90210~ the girl asked me if I meant the original one and told me that her mother had watched that in highschool. HIGHSCHOOL!
I excused myself, saying “Go easy on the weed and no more beer please.” A couple hours later, I went to the kitchen and made a sandwich~ Casey heard me and cornered me, asked me if I wanted five dollars for the beer. I had no clue what he was talking about and went to bed. I found out later when I couldn’t sleep and went for a beer to relax me~ there were only three left. I had bought it that afternoon and drank two~ it had been an 18 pack!
I brought it up to him after his friends left. He looked me dead in the eye and apologized~ it wouldn’t happen again. He told me the nerdy boy was twenty one and I laughed~ he elaborated and told me that now that Adam could get into bars, he hadn’t been seeing much of him. I laughed again~ no twenty one year old would be dating a fifteen year old.
~On Monday my stupid “boyfriend” was broke (as he was borrowing money and spending it on other dames, of course), so we went downtown and played tourist~ I’m a licensed guide and we get into the attractions for free, so we visited The Spanish Quarter, The Old Wooden Schoolhouse, etc and had lunch. I opened my mail on the way downtown and was delighted to see an envelope from Chicago, addressed in my grandmother’s handwriting. She had sent me fifty dollars cash, wrapped in tinfoil and enclosed was a note that said, “Here is a little bit of spending money. Maybe you could get a cheeseburger and a coke?” I laughed and made a note to call my grandma after work the next day. We were gone maybe four hours tops, most of which I spent stressing over the night before and we came up with the plan to give Casey his thirty days notice on the first~ I was told to keep my mouth shut and deal with it until then because he “wouldn’t help me if I fucked it up”.
When we went back home, the door (MY door) was opened for us by some kid I’d never seen. He was holding one of MY beer cans, his eyes were red and glazed over and the entire house smelled like marijuana. It was two-thirty in the afternoon.
As Casey was heading down the stairs, the dog barked several times and bounded in front of him towards me, slipping and sliding down the rest of the steps on her chest~ this had never happened before. What had they done to upset her so badly? I was furious. I ushered the kid out and Casey went to work, leaving Adam and I alone in a smoke-filled house to discuss the day’s events~ I was shaking the entire time. What had just happened in my house? I knew then that no matter what you said, Casey was neither trustworthy, nor capable of being left alone in my house; and I knew I would not be available to babysit him.
The next day, I started my job at Marshall’s~ I worked from ten am to two pm and worried about my house all day. I got my nails down on the way home and while I was waiting, I called my grandma to thank her for the money. I opened up about the living arrangement and how freaked out I was; I explained the events of the past few days, but I was overheard by a woman getting a pedicure~ she interrupted me. “Get him out. You are liable for everything, you are not his guardian and he’s breaking the law in your home. Ask GRANDMA for the money or don’t give his deposit back!Do not give the deposit back, tell her to take you to court. She will be in a lot of trouble if she does.” Turned out this woman was a police officer and I was scared. I wanted him out, but I didn’t want anyone to be inconvenienced or hurt or to go back on my word (by the way, my thoughts on this matter have changed drastically since then).
I don’t remember whether I saw Casey that afternoon or what, but I think I went directly to my friend Sarah’s~ I helped her move a couch into her apartment, talked about my experiences and became more and more terrified as time went on. I had every right to be terrified. I called you and frantically told you everything that been going on. I was hysterical, but you didn’t want to listen~ you wanted to hang up and call Casey to “fix the problem”. I was not concerned with fixing the problem, I just wanted him gone. You wouldn’t listen to WHY.
Casey didn’t come home that night, but the voice message I received the next morning was pretty frantic~ he claimed he would do “whatever it takes”, that he got rid of all his weed, that there would be no drinking MY beer, no drinking ANY beer . . . I felt bad. I saved the message, I saved every message and I will try my best to type up a transcript. By this time, I’d already figured out what kind of family I was dealing with~ I can’t produce the texts he sent to me that Tuesday, as there was a mishap with my phone, but basically he said something to the effect of, “You really fucked my life up! Bitch! I can’t even keep my job now!” I was just so sick of dealing with it and I wanted everyone to be happy~ I promised him thirty days. Big mistake.
He thanked me profusely and I waited up to talk to him that night. He called first and told me he was on his way, then meekly walked in the door about ten minutes later. We sat outside smoking and he claimed he was “really good” at following rules once he knew what they were~ so I told him again what they were. No weed in the house, no cigarettes in the house, no people over ever and no drinking my beer. No drinking ANY beer. He then politely handed me thirty dollars for more beer, which I bought two cases of and placed in the fridge. I don’t remember what time I went to bed or anything, I just remember the “If you change your mind and want me to stay . . .” discussion. I was polite and all, but in my head, I was thinking fat chance.
The next day (when he popped a can of beer open at one pm), it became apparent that because he had given me the money for the beer, he thought it was HIS beer. So bam! I realized that if I wanted to keep beer in my house, it was not going to be safe from this child; I was not available to babysit him, I had a [shitty] job and a life. So I made a comment about it to which he replied, “No. I bought me a case and you a case. I didn’t touch your case.” I swallowed hard~ WHAT A SKUNK!
In one of the following days (after a few lengthy discussions about having friends over), I was lying on my bed in my room, playing on the internet. I’d heard Casey leave, but I was still hearing footsteps. I got up to use the bathroom and as I was walking in, some short kid with a hat I’d never seen before walked out. He had a red backwards cap on and he smiled at me, then without a word, he walked into Casey’s room and shut the door. I went to the kitchen door, which was open and introduced myself. At some point, Casey came home and we all sat down and talked about nothing.
I think it was the next morning that there was an entire case of beer missing. Casey wasn’t home or asleep, but I freaked out. It was one thing for him to disrespect me by drinking my beer, but it was quite another for him to actually take beer out of my home. I went to work and by the time I returned, there was half a case of beer sitting in the fridge~ I was stunned! He actually took beer someplace and then brought it home? How tacky!!!
Oh, the first thing I did was talk to him about this! He said he was sorry and he’d never do it again (he said could get anyone to buy him beer!), but that night the half case of beer was gone and what do you know? I had once again unwittingly supplied minors with beer! What a mind trip! How did any of this happen? I never even mentioned that half a case of beer to him~ where would it have gotten me?
One morning, I woke up and there was a naked girl I had never seen before standing in the bathroom with the door open. She was buck ass naked in MY house and didn’t seem to realize WHY this was an issue for me! I said “Hello?” or something and she didn’t respond. I shrugged, too tired to talk anymore and proceeded to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. Then the naked girl started digging in the fridge, putting her naked hands all over my food! No way THAT’s sanitary! One day he finally did introduce me to the naked girl and he was naked too. REALLY naked! She was not gone by morning ever and she was pretty much over every single night after that, I would come home to garbage cans full of used tampons and pad wrappers I didn’t recognize and the naked girl almost always missed the trash can~ it was disgusting.
I got really sick of him coming home and asking me to go buy him cigarettes, this happened almost every night . . . at one in the morning.
Let’s talk about his friend Adam~ I bought beer one night and he said he was gonna have a friend over. There were two cases of beer in the fridge and I said I’d chill with them for a little while, but I told him no beer and that I had to be to bed early. He told me that Adam was twenty one and that he was legal to drink beer, but he asked me to please stay up and hang out because they might need more beer later. I pointed out that if Adam was twenty-one, they wouldn’t need me to buy beer and that I was tired. Casey mumbled some excuse about Adam having lost his ID . . . “four days ago”. He kept repeating the words “four days ago”, and I remember thinking, Wow . . . this kid is a terrible liar. When Adam got there, he went to the fridge and cracked open a beer without asking. We all went outside to smoke and I asked him, “Adam, how old are you?” His immediate reply?: “Nineteen.” Casey started looking down and saying, “Naw, man, don’t lie . . . tell her how old you really are. Your twenty-one, tell her the truth!”
“I’m nineteen,” was Adam’s flat reply. I looked at Casey’s face and he was all red~ I’ve never seen anyone so embarrassed to get caught in a lie! We laughed about it and talked for awhile, then Casey stated that he had in fact lied and would never lie to me again~ he lied about seven more times that night alone.
I was beaten~ I figured if they were going to drink my beer, I could at least keep them in the house. Casey kept talking about going over to the church to play basketball, but I requested that Adam stay over and that they not leave the house at all that night b/c they’d been drinking and I didn’t want to get in trouble for something I had no control over. For some reason, we went inside, where I put on a Hanson cd~ we MMM-BOPPED for a little while, then Lily started acting like she wanted to go out and Adam offered to take her for a walk. I said fine, once around the block, but don’t go anywhere else and be back shortly. He agreed and I got Lily her leash and handed it to Adam, but Casey started to follow him. “Whoa,” I said, feeling a little more maternal than I’d planned. “You do not need both need to go. Where are you guys going to go???” Casey swallowed and started to step forward, like I’d noticed he did whenever he was going to lie. “You don’t have to worry, we’re just going for a moonlit stroll around the block. We’ll be back in five minutes. Promise.” Bullshit.
As I watched them walk out the door with my beloved dog, I knew they wouldn’t be back in 5 minutes. I wanted to cry, but I had things to do. So I did them~ five minutes turned into ten minutes, which turned into an hour and so forth. I started freaking out about it after 45 minutes and calling Casey from my phone. I heard his phone ringing in the house, so I grabbed it and started texting and calling Adam frantically . . . no answer. This was so scary; I’d made it clear to him that Lily was the most important thing to me on the planet and I had made that clear to you as well~ I could not stop hyperventilating. After about an hour, I got onto my bike and started riding frantically around the town for about twenty minutes. I was so scared. I stopped outside the front of the Grace United to give directions to an older couple and I got a phone call from Casey; he said there was no need to freak out because they’d just taken her downtown to meet girls. I pedaled home as fast as I could and ripped him a new one. It had been two hours.
After this, he and Adam sat outside smoking with me. I explained that what had happened was not cool at all and they just seemed to think it was funny. I mentioned that I had to go to bed, but that they needed to come in the house. They said they were just going to sit outside smoking a bit longer and I stressed that they absolutely needed to stay in the house and that the beer should not be touched. They promised, but I could tell they had something up their sleeves. I could not babysit them that night, I had work in the morning and I couldn’t believe how unfair all of this was. I went to bed and couldn’t sleep, so I went to the kitchen about twenty minutes later to grab a beer to help me doze off . . . the boys were gone and so was every single can of beer that had been in the fridge~ there had been a case and a half when I’d gone to bed. It had been
I don’t entirely remember what happened directly after this, but I didn’t hear
from him til the next morning I didn’t hear from him til the next morning when all he could tell me was that they had taken a cab and did not drive~ I was not told where they went or what they had done, but he tried to make me less angry by repeatedly telling me he did not drive. Once again I had unwittingly provided beer to minors, what the hell do I care whether they freaking DRIVE?!? They could drive off the Bridge of Lions and I wouldn’t bat an eye!
My friends stopped coming over because of him and I practically moved in with Sarah across the street. I was afraid to be at home, but even more afraid to not be there. One night I had my friend Kaci over~ we went out and had a few rounds. We were pretty drunk by the time we got home (and trust me, I am allowed to be drunk in my own home) and when Casey showed up, we really weren’t able to stop him from helping himself to the beer and vodka. He insisted on staying up with us, watching movies. After a couple more movies, Kaci announced that she was leaving and started to walk down the stairs, but I grabbed her and stopped her, told her she was drunk and I wanted her to stay with me. She agreed and went to use the bathroom and I sat down next to your son on the couch, where he looked at me practically drooling: “You want her to stay because you’re a lesbian, right?” WHAT? I almost popped him.
I went to bed before they did and I woke up to a note Kaci had left me on a paper towel and to your son asleep on my couch with his arms around a basketball. The note said: “I left because after you went to bed, that child started trying to molest me. He started rubbing my back and grabbing my thighs and ass and stuff. It was yucky.” There is no excuse for this!
He didn’t do dishes, he didn’t keep his room clean so I could show it and secure a roommate for September, he called me at work once to cuss me out and scream at me because I simply asked him to do dishes. DISHES! One night I told him to straighten up: he had twelve days left at this time. Certainly this wouldn’t be hard, right? We sat outside and I begged him (BEGGED him) to behave for the next twelve days~ I laid out the rules, the same ones as before. I feared for my sanity and my safety and I offered to give back the deposit in cash the next day if he moved out immediately. He said he had nowhere to go and that he didn’t
care about whether or not I gave the deposit back because the money wasn’t going to him anyway. So I told him that he should be responsible for it if he lost it, not me.
We talked about it for about an hour or so, the whole while him acting confident as hell that he could get through twelve days without a problem. It was getting late, so I had to go to bed, but before I did, I counted the beer left in the fridge (five cans sitting on the middle rack and an unopened 18 pack sitting next to them) and told him to stay away from the beer~ he looked me dead in the eye and promised. I fell asleep quickly, but I am a light sleeper and the house shakes every time a train goes by; one went by about an hour later and woke me up.
I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I went out to the kitchen to grab another beer. The five cans were gone and the new case had been ripped open and five were already missing from it . . . who needs five beers in one hour? Your son was sitting outside on my porch, still smoking and drunk as a skunk. I was too tired to react to this the way I wanted to at the moment, so I sat outside with him. The naked girl called him five times in a row and he said he had to go answer it. He started to walk down the back steps, but fell down the back steps drunkenly . . . he did not land on his feet. Then he picked himself up, dusted his pants off, then continued walking like it didn’t even happen.
You emailed me that my “ordeal” would be over soon and to “hang in there.” My “ordeal”? My ORDEAL?!?!??!!? This was the last straw~ the next day after work, I sent you this:
My “ordeal”? Nice weasel wording. I went out on a limb for you guys and was screwed over~ I don’t deserve this. I asked you to please tell your son to do those things because I wanted you to tell him to do them. And by the way, I keep beer in the fridge and rum in the freezer b/c it lowers my electric bill~ if I give Casey ONE beer while I discuss the rules with him, it does not mean finish off one case and open another while I am asleep. No one needs to drink ten beers in one hour, then fall down my back steps drunk (right across from the police station by the way) and tell me he can’t replace it because he doesn’t have any money. And he cannot have friends over then tell me he thought it was okay because he didn’t know I was at home. The naked girlfriend over every night? That’s the least of my worries. SHE HASN’T EVEN HIT PUBERTY! Come on! He has ten days left and he’s still messing up and putting me at risk in my own home? Please. And one of you has to be lying about that cocaine overdose and I honestly don’t appreciate it either way. Regretfully, Bri
I did not wait long after sending this before kicking him out. That email was pretty frantic, everything in my life had been put at risk, regardless of whether or not you will admit it. My home, my sanity, my health—I could not take it anymore. That email was my last cry for help. But you did not respond. All that talk about “If he messes up, you come to me” and “I’ll handle everything.” Please. The only things I ever heard from you were about the damn security deposit~ every day, even while he still lived here, which was ridiculous.
This was a child, not a legal adult and suddenly he was my responsibility? Because YOU’RE a bad mother? Jesus Christ, lady! That night with the beer was the night I made up my mind to get him out ASAP and that under no possible circumstances were you getting the deposit back. Everything was broken, every single part of your end of the agreement . . . and you clearly knew this or you wouldn’t have hounded me about the deposit the way you did, including while he was still living here. I said it was the honor system and f you’d wanted it back so badly, you would have kept your son in check. I have a lot more to say, but this letter is already eight pages long. My GAWD~ I’ve got the pictures, I’ve got the proof and you’re not getting a dime from me. Not one measly DIME, think of it as my babysitting bill!
YOU’RE LUCKY I DON’T SUE YOU FOR A QUARTER OF A MILLION DOLLARS!
I’ll tell you what~ after he trashed my house as my “punishment” for kicking him out, I had to clean out his room and when I did this, I found a dollar thirty-one in change~ if you’re really hurting for money, I will send you that and I never want to hear from you or your family again. Do not call me, do not write me, do not ever (EVER! EVER! EVER!) come knocking on my door again. You all need therapy, it isn’t MY fault the poor kid has a lousy (lousy, lousy, BEYOND lousy!) mother!
P.S. You need Jesus. Your whole family needs Jesus.
* * *
SIGNED. SEALED. DELIVERED.