My Aunt Was Literally A Murderer
And nobody cared but me
Trigger Warning — If you’re an ardent cat lover this true story may cause a few unsettling feelings.
Although I’m sixty-seven now, the events of that day are burned into my memory. I will never forget what my aunt did that day, how she took the lives of four souls without shedding a single tear of remorse.
After confronting my aunt about this horrific murder, I tried to tell everyone else, but it seemed no one cared about the atrocity but me.
My aunt had come to live with us when I was eight years old, far too young to really understand the nuances of what a nasty divorce was. All I knew at that age was that my mom’s sister was going to be staying with us for a bit.
Which was okay with me. With her there, it meant she got the chauffeur duties during schooltime, ferrying my brother and me each morning and picking us up each afternoon.
Again a pretty sweet deal, especially since I’d gotten kicked off the school bus for a particularly unpleasant incident between one of the bus bullies and me.
The morning of the murders was bitterly cold, a brutal winter storm had passed through during the night and dropped the temperatures to well below freezing. That morning the blustery winds sent chilling shards…
