I read a letter addressed to sister, which prevents me from confronting her with the contents. It was written by a man who finds himself in jail, awaiting trial on nine felony charges. He asks her to hide the firearms he keeps in his home, and goes on to say that she may keep the drugs for her own consumption.
In an effort to shield the children from any danger, I have notified the authorities. I understand that this will awaken a rage inside of her. This descent into darkness is a thing I cannot deal with safely, since it is so far removed from anything I have ever dealt with. There is no handbook on the subject, no one to turn to who could advise me on the proper protocol. I do as I deem necessary, and hope that things turn out to benefit of everyone involved.
Sister has all but destroyed this family. I fall over myself to rebuild what I can. My actions are an affront to what my culture represents. We are meant to stand by our families, no matter the crime. I will not participate in the perpetuation of something that has the potential to deeply harm one, or many.
Everything falls down like stardust. It is spellbinding, with a hint of the diabolic. The children tell me they have seen their mother use drugs. This, I discussed with sister. She screamed, as she said, “You only want to take my children away from me. If you wanted a child, you should not have killed your own.” I expected these words. It was almost as if I planted them there.
The nights are so very long.