I refuse to tell my mom that I caused her and my dad to get a divorce. I love my mom dearly, but my dad was something straight out of the 1940s. He never used to let her go out, and he detested the idea of both me and her working because 'women don't do that.' He was overtly racist and hit my mom all the time when she tried to stand up for herself. My girlfriend at the time was into all the party drugs, so I asked her to buy me some heavy stuff from her dealer (no idea what it was). We were going on holiday in a few days, so just before we headed out, I put some of it in his case and left the rest in his nightstand. He was caught at the airport and arrested. The house got searched, and they found more of it.
My mom came clean about the abuse and broke down during the questioning. She filed for divorce, my dad got jail time, and my mom got custody of me. It did break her heart, but she found someone else. I have not seen my dad for about 11 years now. Last I heard, he was out, but other than that, I couldn't care less. My mum is so much happier - she went to study and is now a trainee veterinarian, which was her dream job that my dad wouldn't let her do.
I never told them that I was the one who gave grandma the bottle of pills. She asked, and she deserved to die. I watched her chew them, and I brought the OJ when she asked. I was 37, it was a relief, and I didn't see her last breath. I looked away after she started drinking OJ. She was in agony.
In the summer of 1985, between 10th and 11th grade, my English teacher asked me and two classmates on the last day.
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