Torture, Terrorism, and Tormenting: How I Became A Dinosaur

I lived to terrorize as a child and I still enjoy tormenting my parents each and every opportunity I get.

It all began with my sister, without her, I probably would have never perfected this art of terrorism and torment of any person I come into contact with.

When she was born, my heart was filled with evil. I wanted her to go back to the hospital and I never wanted to see her again. All I knew was that she was taking away my grandma, my parents, my aunt. This was not okay. This was war.

My sister even gave me a fat lip once after making me walk on her magazine trail in the living room (I fell, what's new right?)

This culminated into me chasing my sister with grapes that I told her were bugs, the invention of the good monster (I will write about this a different day), catching leeches and telling her they were snails, trying to kill her goldfish, and most of all: attempting to convince my parents that she was not an angel.

I would frame her for various "crimes" throughout the house. Oh, who peed in mom's shoes? Well of course, it was Marissa! [Disclaimer: Several times, it actually WAS Marissa, but there were a few times I decided to frame her]. No that isn't dog poop, Marissa must have done it! Who threw up? Well, obviously Marissa did it. Marissa is the one who cut up the bath towels! Marissa is the one who dressed up the dog!

...Of course my parents saw right through these not very well thought through attempts to make them realize my sister was NOT a princess. And yes, I got in trouble. I think the only thing that Marissa ever might have gotten in trouble for was peeing in my mom's shoes...just because she had been caught in the act of it. 

So, Parents, now that you have seen this, yes, I peed in mom's shoes too. 

Eventually, I became a hormonal adolescent and the rage for my sister continuing to hold on to her crown became overpowering. I became some kind of a dinosaur ready to breathe fire at anything I saw. 

I ran around screaming trying to get my sister to react at least a little bit. She would just keep smiling.

Stupid angel.

This continued until I felt like I was about to spontaneously combust.

My parents began filming these rage fests in an effort to try to prove to me that I had an anger problem and needed to see the Pastor to get myself healed. For awhile, I was being constantly followed with the camera to see if I would become completely emotional and start screaming/crying/breaking things/or becoming insanely angry.

This made it worse.

One day, I was so upset with my sister that I threw a basketball at her and my little five foot self decided to knock down the basketball hoop, screaming all the while.

She didn't react. She kept smiling!

Yes, my parents caught this on camera. And yes, they still tell me that they have this on camera and have threatened to write their own blog complete with photo/video evidence of how terrible I was/am. 

The rest of my life I have lived as a fire breathing dinosaur. Tormenting my parents at any chance just to get back at them for birthing the devil and making me be related to it. Probably also for filming me tormenting the world. 

Don't worry though, eventually my sister did get sick of me bugging her and when I locked her in my playroom to play with me, she punched me in the face.

The war...is...not...over!