Sex grooming Fatima – 2

Disclaimer:

I will start by saying: these posts about my childhood trauma I’m  telling you guys; are a heavy topic. Sensitive people and minors are advice to not read this. The content contains rape, violence, mental abuse, physical abuse, and death. Sociopaths, psychopaths and a lot of narcissism.

I write it here to sort out my flashbacks and memories.

But also, to leave something for investigation, in case something bad happens to me. I have survived a lot and it would be a shame to get this far and not be able to tell my story, just in time.

This is in Sweden.

 

Sex grooming Fatima

 

I will tell you this story from two aspects. First from the facts and feelings from my childhood and second through the eyes, of me now, as a grown-up.

I can’t speak for Fatima as you understand. But I will take the freedom to explain what I heard and saw back then. And interpret it through what I consider to be healthy or not.

 

Narcissists

(Narcissists however never change, they just put on different masks and fool everyone around their victim, sometimes fooling even their own victim/s. Making them believe everything is their own fault. That they deserve whatever bullshit treatment they are getting. That everything is normal, they are just too sensitive or overreacting. Too this, too that. The victim better shuts up cuz’ they are just causing unnecessary chaos.) 

Well, Fatima was taught that she was over-reacting to this bullshit. She was the crazy one. By the way, why would she cry so much when I didn’t. She had to become like me if she wanted to survive. Crying doesn’t make you survive in the big world. He is bigger than us and there are plenty of him out there.

 

Social experiment with twins

Basically, I and Fatima was his social experiment. How much could he push a baby, how much are babies willing to take, how do you create a clingy loyal baby. When someone is around he treated her good,  as soon as they were “alone” he was a constant menace. He used to role play, acting as if he is different people… why wouldn’t she believe it. She has a twin herself.

Our father dressed in military clothes one minute and abused her, then he would change fast into his daddy clothes, t-shirt and shorts, hurry in and rescue her from the other evil dudes. He fought them behind the wall. At least at those times, he would let her cry for 5 minutes. Yeah, he had rules.

I saw his role playing, changing from one outfit to another. I was shocked to see my mother helping him. She told him not to do it in front of me but he told her, babies forget.. so what? Babies are too stupid, no harm.

I and Ali knew about the abuse. My dad didn’t know or didn’t care about it much. We were hiding, we could hear things from outside the door. Sometimes we saw things. Sometimes we were in the same room and he abused us, too or instead. To prove to Fatima that she is his queen and that he treated everyone badly. He was ALWAYS fair.

Nevertheless, Fatima thought she was alone with him – which she for the most time practically was. And so she always looked around the corner when he left the room. She was scared to be with him and scared to not be with him. By now she was trapped in codependency and our dad thrived on that.

There was always evidence of some new shittery he had done to her. Once he urinated on us both as a punishment. From that day on Fatima got urinated on a lot. He hit her on her face, bit her, pulled her hair and messed it up. He threw us against walls. Her hair was full of shit and urine for days. That was her punishment and my mom backed him up by invalidating her. Telling her it was her fault.

 

Sucking my dad’s dick

Here is how he taught us to suck his dick. First, he gave us our milk bottles and then told us to do the exact same thing to his dick. Sometimes all we would eat was his cum. At times he would prefer to pull our hair. Other times we were under the sheets. Fatima was always hesitant. Actually, she was scared but didn’t want to do that anyway. He had to break down her high walls.

And that’s why she always got punished even when she did what she was told at the last minute. I was scared as hell too, but I just wanted to get it over with. Maybe Fatima felt betrayed by me, but I just wanted her to suck it up because crying only got us into more trouble by him.

 

Thank you for reading through!

Sex grooming Fatima – 1

Disclaimer:

I will start by saying: these posts about my childhood trauma I’m  telling you guys; are a heavy topic. Sensitive people and minors are advice to not read this. The content contains rape, violence, mental abuse, physical abuse, and death. Sociopaths, psychopaths and a lot of narcissism.

I write it here to sort out my flashbacks and memories.

But also, to leave something for investigation, in case something bad happens to me. I have survived a lot and it would be a shame to get this far and not be able to tell my story, just in time.

This is in Sweden.

 

I will tell you this story from two aspects. First from the facts and feelings from my childhood and second through the eyes, of me now, as a grown-up. 

I can’t speak for Fatima as you understand. But I will take the freedom to explain what I heard and saw back then. And interpret it through what I consider to be healthy or not.

 

She is my twin sister

The power of stories. Stories with integrity, where do I draw the line. Obviously, I didn’t feel Fatima’s pain nor her very own feelings. We were twins. It was a total mess in our house and she was only a baby with no direction.

Those who were supposed to protect her were the wolves in her life. She lived in a broken world, way worse than the rest of us. Because she had a close relationship with her predator. Her own father.

So does this story even have any integrity or a moral sense? Maybe not but at least she had a twin sister. That felt her and wanted to be close to her, as sisters do. That went through some of the bullshit and hell she did. I’m now capable of putting it into words for the both of us. Now that I’m capable of sorting out mine and some of her feelings. I will tell what no one wants to hear.

We couldn’t back then… My dad left here with one leg and fed himself. She felt sorry for him and saw it as her duty to comfort him. Even if she lost a leg. She matured fast for a 3-year young baby. She stood finally up for herself on one leg. At the end of her life, my dad had chopped both her legs off.

I will make sure she will at least leave a one-foot mark for her legacy!

 

Strong soul

Fatima was sensitive and a helpless romantic baby girl. At the same time, a very strong personality and hard to impress.

When she wasn’t happy she couldn’t pretend. No, she was not fronting. She strongly believed in a happy ending for everyone. Mostly for her own dad, since he was crying all the time. She believed in fairytales.

She liked getting pampered as any baby would. Dress in pretty clothes, getting her hair done and wearing beautiful shoes. Too much for a baby maybe, but it was my mother’s band aid to Fatima’s mental scars. She gave her rosy cheeks, Kohl, and some lipstick.

She even put make-up to cover up her black eyes, bite marks and bruises.

To be perfectly clear, it’s called brainwashing and nothing else.

Fatima had to abide by his senseless torture. According to her mom, she had to give in. But Fatima couldn’t fake it. She remained unimpressed. The only reason she was being abused is that she gave my dad a chance after chance. She believed in the good in people. What is a baby supposed to do? Let’s not forget that we are talking about a baby. He gained her trust and abused a helpless baby.

She talked to my brother about the abuse she had to take by my father. She tried to win him over. But all our older brother cared about was being the best and fucking the rest. Fatima, couldn’t tell when Ali was drunk and when he wasn’t. That just shows how trustful she was and genuine in her message. She wanted the best for everyone. Ali was her boyfriend before he became mine. If the grown-ups didn’t know how to get under Fatima’s skin. He showed them how. Only 6 years old, he paved the way to her death.

Ali was her boyfriend before he became mine. If the grown-ups didn’t know how to get under Fatima’s skin. He showed them how. Only 6 years old, he paved the way to her death.

 

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Summertime sadness

Summertime sadness; have you ever felt that. She loved the sun but the sun didn’t love her back. She thought. So she stopped loving the sun. She was very sad and exhausted even though she tried not to show. Because she just never ever felt that she was enough.

She had cried and cried and cried with no use. Mostly after midnight. At first, she had been such a thunder when she was upset. But somewhere along the way, she stopped fighting to thrive and started fighting to survive. That meant putting a mask on her face, a poker face hard to penetrate. My dad had one job now. To break down her walls.

She was not allowed to protect herself and she better understand that he only wanted what’s best for her. So as time went by, she changed and became more and more fearful. She became clingy and codependent on her father, only. Because no one else wanted her. No one else cared for her as he did. My mother was his supportive actor in this.

Fatima was sick of us, her siblings. We would play and make noise outside the bedroom. And all she wanted and could do was take naps during the days. I didn’t understand it back then, we went to her to wake her up. But I do now. She hadn’t slept during the night. My dad’s response was to take her and hit her. And she would cry even more.

There is a saying that people don’t change, they just reveal who they really are. I believe that’s true. But when you have a fresh baby, it changes with the manipulation it’s exposed to. Fatima never got the chance to reveal what kind of beauty she was to the world.

Thank you for reading through!

 

 

The Power of Stories – Tunisia vs. Sweden

The power of stories

 

How powerful aren’t stories? All kinds of stories. From fairytales about Lala, Tralla, and Fralla to living religions. Facts and fictions we see nowadays without even opening a book are stories as well. What effect could they possibly have on us humans? They have existed for as long as the human came about to exist.

Sooo… What do you people think about stories that alienate? Is it worth the hate? Is there really a meaning with alienating anyone from anything? What use does it serve a father to alienate a little girl from the country she was born and raised in.

I’m talking about the fact that my father is alienating my sister from Sweden. Telling her all these stories about how Sweden is a bad country. His promised land is Tunisia… (well your plane is about to be wrecked for good anyway). But I need to say this so my other siblings know what is going on.

Yup, he has been telling Lilo how much better Tunisia is.

Why doesn’t he tell her about all the beautiful things Sweden give to its people. Why is he a shitty taker and so ungrateful?

 

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Sweden

OK, so let me tell you some of the beautiful things about Sweden then. It has clean water that washed your crimes away. Its school system is free and one of the best in the whole wide world and this whole galaxy, ya 7mar! It has greenery, it has a beautiful nature that you have soaked in blood. It’s a well-developed country for well-developed minds. Since you came to Sweden it’s weather has not been right, yeah I blame you for that. All this rain, a sign from God but you don’t get it. You think you are special so God should speak to you like Moses. Bitch, sit down. Blueberry pie, semlor, mashed potato and vegan balls bigger than you balls will ever be. Vikings gave us Ali. Sweden is the biggest dick country and it will fuck up your life very soon. Pippi long stocking and feminism. Basically Astrid Lindgren’s stories, way better than your religious crime stories.

Swedish prisons… The only paradise you will ever enter in this life and the next. 😉

Infrastructure and all the free wifi… are you taking my siblings to isolate them of what this country have worked hard for and have granted them? Free health care for children and cheap for grown-ups. Freedom of speech, allmänsrätten, a trouble free life for serious people… why are you seeking trouble?

 

Ungrateful dad

Well, you should go to Tunisia by yourself, oh boy is their trouble waiting for you over there. Oh, you just wanted the best of both worlds. Don’t worry, I’m making sure you are getting it. My fault is that I’m too nice, too much of a people pleaser.

Let me tell you the real reason why you are so ungrateful to Sweden. That once saved your ass from getting raped in Tunisian prisons because they caught you raping children there. You are BORDE. You have done all your shenanigans in Sweden and are looking for a new thrill in a place where you can find like-minded people as you easier. Nahda? I sure do know your truth… pretend you are a political refugee some more while you still have a story you can lie about. Your truth will be written down in history. You are losing grip when you think that Tunisia will be your new Paradise. Don’t forget, hell is empty and all the devils are here. 😉

You are a sociopath looking for a new ground for your creative crimes. Where you can kill people without being accountable.

 

My siblings

To my siblings; both Sweden and Tunisia are smart countries that care about your well-being the most. Sweden is your country and it loves you. It’s not fighting you in any way. All countries have challenges, not problems. They only become problems if you don’t challenge the society and express yourself! Don’t let anyone ever think for you. Sweden is teaching you to think for yourself.

Walk on your own feet

Shame on you for believing that I would ever carry you on my shoulders… You have two feet for a reason. Remember when you cut Fatima’s legs off? Hmm? Well, you better remember.

Why are you running away from Sweden anyway? Bitch! Is Sweden running after you?

Smart people don’t run, they let you come to them.

Dad, you will be famous soon. this dream you have worked hard for. This dream you have always sold us as kids. And sold us for. It’s really time we give back what you worked really hard for. Just to let us survive. It’s time we give you some of your hard work back. Take you to scandal-Mecca on my shoulders and give you Zamzamli through my legs. No bitch, not between them. Through them, because we will be running to all y’all’s final destination until we bleed.

Tonåringar, vill ni ha beef? Finns på Instagram! By now Ali must have shown you my Instagram. Hope you people had a great meeting. You can look but don’t touch bitch! Juma Mubarak! 😀

 

Thank you for reading through!

You are alive

 

You are someone I confused for a soulmate. When all you ever was… just a bunch of life lessons.

 

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You know who I am. You looked me in my eyes. And lied straight to my face. That school game has not been the same since I left it. Better know I know my worth. I’ve been queening on your ass since I was a baby. Coming with your basic princess weak game to me won’t lead you anywhere. 

For each day passing by I remember more and more things about who you are, and a lot of other people who are involved. It’s a bit of a dazzle what people can do when they think you will never remember them. Old summertime friend. You know those don’t stick around.

 

I was (10 years) 12 years old. They had burned your hair. You showed me the scars on your body. Told me about your friends that got killed on the street and I saw some of it. Desperate for a way out of the hood and out of misery. They starved you. You cried to me. I felt your tears. At the same time you “tried” to take care of me. To be deep with me. You took care of me since I was a baby. Of all the people out there, you were the best.

Alcohol was a shortcut from pain. I understand. They put you in jail, as they always do. I missed you.

You asked for consent. You were shy and I invited you in. It was sweet. You cared. You didn’t want to do these things. I thought you were innocent. To them, it was just a movie and you were too good. They thought you loved me for real and didn’t trust you. So you had to make a withdraw from your love supply. Who lost love the most though? That says all I need to know about you as a business man.

When me an Fatima were born on the beach you got a purpose to fight. You loved her the same way you loved me until it stopped serving you. I was next on the list.

 

You thought I was crazy

All I cared about was being loved. I changed you into being down for freaky stuff. To be down into having sex instead of thinking about deep shit. That’s if you disregard that my dad created you! Made you write movie scripts. And get paid for role playing.

Slim and dad created me. Along with his friends of course. They put me in jail too. Kidnapped me. Put me in coffins several times. Had me in sex trafficking. Killed my friends. Dog trained me. Watered me down. I am sex groomed. 

But when a human being are drunk or high, all they have left are their values. Love was a big one for me.

How do you expect me to think about Thriving and business in a state like that? When I’m drugged?! Show me the person that talks deep stuff under the influence.

Btw, you lost your hair when you thought you had the right to shave my pubic hair. It’s that simple to me.

 

It hurt you

When you came to our house and saw what I was doing. Actually, I wasn’t doing it. I was just handling it. I never got anything out from it. No money. So it wasn’t my business. I was just a product. It bothered you that I didn’t stand up for myself. I had you, who else did I need.

I needed none of that if you ask me.

You took a stand against my dad. You showed him that you are good at violance.

Your business spread in Fittja. The bicycle tied to a tree in front of our house. That was you. The burning cars? That was you and your friends.

 

Cannibalism 

You have some explaining to do. Not to me, I know. I mean in court.

 

The real you

You realized that you are only a little boy without any power. Your rebellious streak went away. Your morals slowly adapted to evilness.

I’d say you became darker, but my nigga. You were chilling in the dark, playing in the dark… doing weird ass things in the dark. You had a dark side and no one will ever understand that side that I have seen. Since you were a kid.

Eating your sister’s fingers. Damn, eating her flesh raw. The kind of bullying she had to take is indescribable. She was useless to you too, when she didn’t bring in any money. She tried to talk deep stuff with you. That’s when you turned and flipped on her. Since when did you have the power to do what you want with people’s lives? Laughing? Sex grooming my twin with my dad. You never changed.

Tell me about animal abuse. Because what’s the difference? Dude, I have done shit myself. I have been on the dark side myself. But I never had a hidden agenda. You were on top of her all night long fucking, wasn’t you? Damn you were a sheep back then too, though I saw you as a pattern breaker. But nope, time showed that you are only a basic bitch. Hating on your sister’s standards and dissing her. Her smart mind was dangerous.

What’s the difference between me and her? Have you seen Clockwork Orange? Let me enlighten you, that’s your childhood.

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Don’t wait

Together, we saw the years go by, me and you. You saw my feelings and tears because you cared. I’ll give you that. But you never do anything of pure love. Give yourself that. Damn, don’t be this confused. Don’t wait for your 4 years younger sister to tell you how things actually are out there. Annoying!

 

You blame others

You are confused between the meaning of having fun and happiness. You lost you. You lost you, Ali. The child you were had high standards. You fell back. Shitty people blacked your shine. Your sin in life is that you blame other people for your choices. You blame, others.

But I’m sure you would say that you love your mother because your answer is an auto-response. You are conditioned to think like that. Tradition sure is stronger than religion. And as far as I know about you, you have always cared what other people think of you. But you would not blame the right people. You probably have Stockholm-syndrome.

They took all your God given right’s away from you and gave you crooked views back. So why would you believe in God when he put you in this situation. This is what you are born to do. Right?

False, you are supposed to conquer yourself. That’s what we all are supposed to do.

 

Conquer yourself

I know you have in so many ways conquered your fears. Look at your social circle, your money, health, the technology you have, the round perky ass you’re proud of, the guns you own, the bitches you fuck. But what about the inner you. The one thirsty for self-understanding. The one you have drained in self-denial instead. Why are you fighting your intuition?

You know you loved your sister the “wrong” way. You know you hate my dad and this rape culture. You ain’t stupid. You had no choice, one could say. But every choice you made were your own.

You “cared” about my happiness? No, you are confused. You tried to fix me. Happiness is just being. Why did you put drugs in everything I ate and drank. In my toothpaste and shampoos too. They nearly killed me. How do drugs help? I couldn’t even talk straight. I was late to everything. I had constant headaches. My sight diminished. And you wonder how you can help. How you can transform me into your dream girl. Mannen, I lived in North Korea. It ain’t fun. I talked to no one because no one cared. Except for God.

I had dreams to make it big too. I had my dreams about hustling Hollywood. Be a dope role model for girls and women fighting my kind of battles. But you never really saw my scars. You saw what you wanted to see. Everything that glitters ain’t gold.

Thanks for the support ass hole. Thanks for counting me out!

 

Fear of death

I understand the fear you were born with. The fear for your life. I understand you have a lot of pain. And that’s why you try to read people. To be a step ahead. You try to understand their weakness and what makes them feel alive. You picked that job yourself. But that’s not your job.

It’s not your job to like me. It’s mine. So when you see someone dealing with life the best they can, don’t get fucking jealous. Don’t trip on them. Don’t stand in their way. Don’t approach them if you are unable to add value. If you come with ego and your own fears.

My dad is your producer. But let’s be real for a minute here. Without me, you wouldn’t be shit. All your training was at my expense.

My dad was all in your business. He had you! He ass-raped you. You hated the things he did but adapted fast to his ideology. You learned to love what you hate and hate what you love. Your hate has no boundaries. You befriend everyone, even your enemies. All you know is war. What does that mean? It means you have a war inside you.

You cried a lot as a child. You were in a lot of pain for real. They put you through hell, I can’t lie. But take this one from me, you only cried when you wanted to guilt trip, someone. You never cried from your heart to soften it.

 

Incest

Imma call it as it is. Incest, and planning on having kids with me. No, thanks. That’s why you broke up with me. To be clear here for everyone: my subconscious. You broke up with my subconscious. I was never conscious. You always drugged me.

You are not trying to be my man, you are just doing your thing. I get that. However, you didn’t understand that I was married to something else already. I have had the same wars you have, inside me. But to you, I was just a walking piece of flesh. To you, I had no mind of my own and no soul. I was just a means to get by. For you to get popular, famous and rich. I understand these things got you. Those are the things you have married.

You left me traumatized. That says all I need to know about you. You stomping on my lungs and strangling me. Dream hubby. Wounds stay.

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Kindergarten

How is that a business? Why are you messing with my baby sister? Don’t worry, I got you! 😉 I know what you have been doing there.

 

My school

I had ambitions. You weren’t one of them. You mad? Stay mad. I didn’t notice your entitlement. I noticed everything else. (Fittja skolan, Didaktus Norrmalm)

 

My sisters

Fucking with my sisters is a no-no. 😉

 

Your happiness

Do you even read people or are you just a confused judgmental person. Lose that bitch!

Is your passion other people’s happiness? Studying what other people seem to like and be happy about. It might make them happy for real. But it’s not yours. You just use it as a facade. It makes me happy to know that you will never be happy.

You are a quitter. You let go of real love. Off real values. Off high life quality standards. There is no such thing as a life that’s better than yours. There is no use in projecting a fake image. Comparing yourself to me? You will never make it as me.

What you read might sound foreign to you, as it did to me a couple of years ago. Yeah, I grew up with the same narcissists you did, so I know. Narcissists like you. No, actually your mom is too crazy for me. I thank God I didn’t grow up with her.

 

You are not a fucking victim

They threatened me to death. I saw people being killed. I had to do the killing myself sometimes. I never enjoyed it. I checked my ego after those things happened constantly. Demons only invite more demons. I guess I just believe in something called God.

Don’t trip. I understand your pain. Success was your only option. You came a long way, but you went the wrong way. What will your millions do for you? It’s just a facade and you know it. Pussy is your passion. I feel I owe you the care you put into me back though. That’s the last thing I will ever be owing you.

But you, you feel the world owe’s you something.

 

Cash flow

Cash flow, a state of being in the being. You look like a shadow of what you once was. Don’t you miss the days when we were just little babies? Your life was hell, I know that. But was there nothing good about it? What are you grateful for? Entitlement and owning credit all the time… is there any harmony flow in it.

You gave me your flow and I got mentally ill. Marijuana doesn’t fucking help. I had my PTSD way before you took over my school.

Your ‘being’ is cowardliness. Even though you have money it will never be enough. Your being is always about becoming. Shit, it feels like I was there just yesterday myself. In this state of mental illness and unawareness of the finest things in life. Of being in the now.

What’s the difference between me and you? Intuition.

 

Honest sex

I know you wanted to have honest sex as well. But would it really have been honest? Would you have told me that you were my brother? As I said before, I was married to other goals in life. I wasn’t aware that people were using me this way. Sex was so foreign to me.

My life: It’s living a double life everyone knows about except the one living it. Like you in a way.

You took me out on dates, as you did when we were kids. You were married to my body only as you were when we were babies. I did not shave my beard, actually, I like my pubic hair so why would I.

I did not shave my beard, actually, I like my pubic hair so why would I.

Car sex, parking lot sex, basement sex, toilet sex, classroom sex, hospital sex, beach sex and parking lot murder are included in our dates. So much more dates but who cares.

Don’t be ashamed of your obsessions, of your DNA. It’s in our DNA to hustle hard. Me and you have that in common. That’s the only reason you are obsessed with me.

(Smoking got you high. Damn, you should have asked me what I believe about smoking. It’s not a gentleman trait to me. Neither is having a gun, it’s a female trait to me. 😉 )

You chase the hoe. (aka me.) I don’t chase hoes. Admit it, my dad stole your dream girl from you. He broke your dreams. (On your behalf because you are confused, that’s called: learned helplessness. It’s a choice.)

 

Bonniers’ son

Did you really kill a guy for the simple reason that he was smiling at me? His smile brightened my day. I like it when strangers smile at me. And no one had done that to me in a long way.

How low can you stoop? How low are your morals? How high is your insecurity? How greedy is your cash flow? How broken is your view on life? How narrow is your perspective? How broad are your lies? How fun is your happiness? How much jealousy did you free yourself from? How many hearts didn’t you break for fun? How far apart are your fun and misery from each other? How do you contain your fakeness!

How you needed my blackness to feel your lightness. You are numb. Cry, shed a tear. Break the facade. You can trash talk Donald Trump all you want, but to me you are him. You don’t have your feet on the ground. You threw all your responsibilities, on your shoulders, away. Having kids here and there. Just so you know, because you are hella confused. It has always been you vs. you. You go Mario!

 

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(You sure are a good drug plumber. I see you.)

Even if I’m not your “sister”. Am I not your sister in humanity?

What won’t you do for money though? 

Love never hurts.

Fear never heals.

 

When you guys killed him, it was like you took something away from me. I didn’t even know him. That was the first and last time I saw him. I didn’t give a fuck about that guy, but now I will.

For you, it’s not enough that you reach success. Others must fail.

 

My dream guy

Do you want to know what my dream guy looks like? A tall guy with long blond hair and blue eyes. Even if he has to color his hair.

 

“Fake it till you make it”, is not your thing. Your thing is “make it, and then fake it”.

Mine is “faith it till you make it”.

 

Congratulations bitch! You have won a spot over here. Yeah, I have a lot to say about you. Don’t be mad at me. Who did this? You did this!

I’m just here, to tell the truth. Fly wherever you want. Take a plane over here or whatever. You won’t stop shit. Most people you know are a Facebook away from me. 😉

 

Thanks for reading through!

 

 

 

Ali – Going on dates

Disclaimer:

I will start by saying: these posts about my childhood trauma I’m  telling you guys; are a heavy topic. Sensitive people and minors are advice to not read this. The content contains rape, violence, mental abuse, physical abuse, and death. Sociopaths, psychopaths and a lot of narcissism.

I write it here to sort out my flashbacks and memories.

But also, to leave something for investigation, in case something bad happens to me. I have survived a lot and it would be a shame to get this far and not be able to tell my story, just in time.

This is in Sweden.

Going on dates

 

Ali was most of the time outside, pimping. He had regained his bitch gangsta attitude and was back roaming the block. My grandpa tried to hack into Ali’s hustle game. Ali took his craft seriously and didn’t want to do things the old-school way. My grandpa was too ratchet for him. Well, his mom was a “hustler” and his dad a redneck. His DNA got the best of both worlds and he threw the rest away!

He put his heart, mind, and soul into this. Sex, money, and murder on the street. He put it down any time any place. He needed to roam the world so he could one day be free. He gave it his everything.

It bothered my grandpa that my bro was on his hustle. Ali used to take me out with him early morning to the mall no matter the weather. We both loved the rain in fact. It wasn’t important where we went. What was important for the both of us, is with whom we went out. People would ask if I was with him and he told them I was his sister! He said there was no difference between black and white.

We tried to run. But this old hip would follow us and snatch Ali. Then the devil would deny that I am Ali’s sister because I am brown and Ali is white and blond. he’d say Ali tried to kidnap me. People would listen and hit Ali. Until my grandpa got caught one day and our mom sorted some of this shit out. Just a bit. She was on my grandpa’s side. My grandpa is not Ali’s grandpa by the way. The devil had no business following him around.

 

That made Ali throw up and spit. Some people’s behavior disgusted him to his core.

Thank you for reading through!

Ali – Pre-school teacher

Disclaimer:

I will start by saying: these posts about my childhood trauma I’m  telling you guys; are a heavy topic. Sensitive people and minors are advice to not read this. The content contains rape, violence, mental abuse, physical abuse, and death. Sociopaths, psychopaths and a lot of narcissism.

I write it here to sort out my flashbacks and memories.

But also, to leave something for investigation, in case something bad happens to me. I have survived a lot and it would be a shame to get this far and not be able to tell my story, just in time.

This is in Sweden.

 

Pre-school teacher

 

Ali couldn’t believe that some of these women had the audacity to follow him around and ask him to have sex with them. He was not impressed and didn’t want to fucking entertain any of them. They bored him to death. He felt lonely and was looking for someone he could have a real connection/relationship with. He used to fuck around and smack their asses. He saw them as big phonies.

Especially this one at our kindergarten. Our mom told her to slap him in the face when he was “acting up”. So whenever she felt like it, or when his Tourette Syndrome burst out she took the freedom to take away his freedom. She slapped him really hard on the face. When other pre-school teachers were around she used to threaten him and hid the fact that she hit him.

At kindergarten, when Ali felt he was about to get his burst out’s, he used to go away and fight his struggle on his own. He screamed and fought so hard, telling us to not come near him. He would spit and throw up. He would fight the air so hard as if something was trying to take hold of his head. He fought until he was sweaty, red and had tears in his eyes. And then breath heavily.

When she heard about who he really was, which Ali hid very well but our mother exposed. She wanted to get some. And she paid our mom well. She didn’t let him play in peace and she would wake him up from nap time. She acted very dangerously and wouldn’t let him play with the toys he regularly played with. Someone saw her slapping him and told the police. She was not even registered as an employee and she didn’t come back. This girl was just too horny for her own good. She was the one that would follow him home and he would lock her out.

 

Transforming him

She talked to our mom and told her that she could transform him. So at kindergarten, she had him in her grip and she wanted it her way. Not knowing or respecting that he knew these stuff without her having to abuse him. You know, they groom us kids to believe it’s our passion. She made him into a king in kindergarten for a minute to humiliate him the next minute. As long as it suited her she acted normally. Sometimes she just wanted to show her superiority and she’d tell him to put his hands up when he wasn’t listening to her and hit him on his hands. Ali had a lot of fears but didn’t show them. However, when she got him for herself I saw the fear in his eyes.

As long as it suited her she acted normally. Sometimes she just wanted to show her superiority and she’d tell him to put his hands up when he wasn’t listening to her and hit him on his hands. Ali had a lot of fears but didn’t show them. However, when she got him for herself for days and nights, I saw the fear in his eyes. She didn’t even come to work. She sold drugs.

Ali works hard so this shit won’t happen. But some people just go around looking for problems, like this girl. She couldn’t stand that he had mastered the shit on his own. My brother had big dreams and obviously wanted to leave this unsuitable life behind. While normal kids were busy laughing and playing. Ali was busy plotting. Trying to make his and my days better. Such daddy. This kid met failure after failure without any loss of enthusiasm. Or so it seemed. He had lots of love for me. And that saved me.

 

Her house

She wouldn’t let him go home when he hadn’t been nice that day and hadn’t “listened”. The thing with our mom was that she listened and believe everyone except her own children. So Ali had sleepovers with this woman and our mom let her fool her. She killed the bitch in him, gave him stitches in his head. But he finally came back, he had survived.

He told me everything he had seen in her house. Han va helt vettskrämd! This woman had stolen other boys and girls from the street and forced them to do stuff they didn’t want to do. She had a camera. Then Ali told me that she doesn’t like boys. She likes women. She had been filming herself with another woman in the shower. I had missed him so much. He was crying and he felt powerless. I was a lonely child since they took my twin sister away. Ali loved me and protected me very much even when he had his own struggles. I couldn’t relate to his story. Still, he was a dad to me.

It started depending on who brought us home. When my grandpa came very late he left Ali with her. She took Ali and his friends home to her. Later Ali went on his own will. She bribed him and told him he would get famous. Ali had a hole in his shoes. Of course, this was a deal to him. Especially when he saw how everyone else was struggling to get deals.

He even took me with him to her house. All he did was watch TV and getting pampered. Actually getting his balls licked. :/ He had learned to be the man of the house. Eww, so old school. He had a girlfriend over there. He liked her but had to play the bad boy towards when they were filming. He tried to convince her to stay positive. But she was just too bored.

He was confused why she wouldn’t take his bullshit together with his romance. His romance game is strong, but ain’t nobody dumb enough to stay with a fuckboy. This teacher had taught him well. She had fucked his head up. Ali was naturally a lover but the way he dealt with girls did not announce any progress. This might have been his first heartbreak. Since he lost his mind and felt lonely.

This pre-school teacher is the one that killed his friends. That’s why Ali changed. Still, she had the audacity to blame Ali for that. She told the kid’s mom it was Ali that had killed her son.

Now that kid’s mother told our mom to take Ali’s life, for her own son’s life. Our mom got really scared when Ali stole a gun and stopped going to kindergarten. He was on the run and now he called the shots.

 

Sexually transmitted diseases

Ali got sexually transmitted diseases from her and it burned when he peed. Of course, he told me. He told me everything. He even showed me.

The same woman that worked at kindergarten performed female genital mutilation on me later on. I was around 5 years (7 years), had changed kindergarten and moved from Stockholm to Uppsala. Bitch, Imma catch you.

 

Weapons

Our mom accused Ali of shooting his friend. Yes, we are still talking about a 6-year young boy. He had 4 guns in his room that the grown-ups had hidden there. It’s not that hard to find them in a minimalistic household. Especially not when the ones “hiding” the guns were bragging about their guns.

My brother felt endangered. Yes, his friend had been shot but it was not him who did it. He took the gun after he found his friend dead.

My dad had moved out and we were struggling to get by. We were slowly falling apart. Ali felt and took a responsibility he did not have to. He took me out with him to the mall to sell ourselves. By now I had learned enough. We went out early in the morning. Even when it rained. In fact, we loved the rain and used to kiss under an umbrella. He was a shy boy.

Ali became violent after he saw his friends getting killed. None of them had fathers to protect them. They had to depend on themselves. Everyone was running around looking for Ali, saying he had a gun and needed to be caught. Such llama drama! They wanted him dead, he told me.

Rumors had it by my mom, that he would just shot anyone. Rumors had it that those videos were selling good, too. So people were jealous and shit.

 

Calling the shots

Ali got mad when nothing happened with this video that was supposed to sell. Yeah, he is not a clever business man. He got mad at this teacher and the contract he had apparently signed. Yea, he is not good at reading people either.

He trusted her and she broke his trust. Now the rumors were turning into reality. Tired of running from people. He now ran after them.

Now, he was getting down to business. He was fast and he had one goal. To get rid of those contract criminals.

Payback for all the triggers she had caused him I guess.

 

Mirror reflection

He was finally home. He had no victim mentality but he found no loyalty in anyone around him. Not even me, basically me and my twin confused him. He bullied Fatima because he heard I was in danger.

He hated his own reflection and compared himself to the grown-ups bodies. It didn’t help that they called him gay (as if it is something lesser) and turned him into a girl. Anywho. He used to experiment on his own, like dressing in dress and put make-up on. He didn’t mind. The grown-ups did it too and no one said anything. If they told him not to do any of that. He did it even more.

Tourette syndrome showed when he was confronted with a mirror. He would jump away and scream. He hated seeing his reflection. I guess this teacher had given him a self-image complex.

 

Thank you for reading through!

(Why is gay synonymous to something less valued to these “people”? They clearly are gay and in self-denial just fucks up your life. This rape culture wouldn’t have existed if they could have accepted themselves for who they really are. No restrictions. They like butts. My dad really likes butts. When he broke up with Zazia he brought only homosexuals to the house. because they were “sinning”. He would sin with them one last time and then kill and dissect them. You know what I say to that! Bull!!! That’s just a fucking terrible excuse to why you can’t allow your true sexual nature take hold. People with a clear sexual orientation are not sinning. Killing is. Raping is. Hate crime is.  

When you get high dad, your true face shows. Marijuana is supposed to be a medicine and nothing more. Your repressed excuses show. Wipe your mouth from all the bullshit you have in you please. It’s too obvious that you are gay and can’t control yourself. ) 

Where in the Quran does it say that you can kidnap homosexuals and females and then tie their butts to a rope from the ceiling? Just so your rape friends can be impressed. What role model are you trying to be?

Thank God, Ali is not ashamed of any of your bullshit. He got a bit affected and you did disturb his body image. But thank God Ali didn’t see any of that.) 

 

Thomas/Ali’s Tourettes Syndrome

Disclaimer:

I will start by saying: these posts about my childhood trauma I’m  telling you guys; are a heavy topic. Sensitive people and minors are advice to not read this. The content contains rape, violence, mental abuse, physical abuse, and death. Sociopaths, psychopaths and a lot of narcissism.

I write it here to sort out my flashbacks and memories.

But also, to leave something for investigation, in case something bad happens to me. I have survived a lot and it would be a shame to get this far and not be able to tell my story, just in time.

This is in Sweden.

 

Thomas/Ali’s Tourettes Syndrome

 

I believe Ali had Tourette’s syndrome. Sometimes he would just snap and act out. He was very clever and knew that he was not supposed to do what he had just done.

Tourette syndrome is a neuropsychiatric disability that involves repeated the involuntary movement. A muscle (motor) tic with at least one sound tic. Tics are sounds/noises that one does with the involuntary muscle movements. The first tics usually comes around the age 6-7 years old.

People with Tourette syndrome can have challenges with concentration, impulsivity and motoric hyperactivity, that’s very similar to ADHD. Tourette syndrome usually also involves some sort of dysfunctional learning disability like dyslexia, but also depression, anxiety, and OCD. Some form of autism spectra is also common.

 

“If kids don’t learn the way we teach them, maybe we should teach the way they learn.” 

I had a brother and his name was Ali. He believed in this quote. He helped me through a lot. When people thought I was useless and tried to sex groom me their way he showed them a better way. Failing could have cost me my life. He helped me through it.)

 

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Ali’s way of handling Tourette syndrome

When we were in kindergarten he used to go away, a bit away from the rest of us when he felt like he was about to get his Tourette’s syndrome. It looked like he was fighting with something invisible and he screamed at us to stay away from him. He had to fight and scream. He held his head and fought so hard. Until there were tears in his eyes.  He felt embarrassed afterward.

Our teacher saw that and she left him alone and let him scream out. Tourette syndrome is hard on its own. How about handling Tourette syndrome without any parental support. On top of that being a rape victim with no needs or rights of your own.

Ali was always on edge and on the run from people. People were chasing him here and there. People who acted like the civil police in the neighborhood. Grown ups that were jealous of him and would just blame him for everything that went wrong.

Ali didn’t talk about his challenges and the hardships he dealt with on his on to anyone. he kept everything inside. It wasn’t that he was too proud. He just felt responsible for acting sensibly and to be a role model to me and his friends. I’d say he was born a natural leader. He wanted to do things in an excellent manner. But when he gets triggered, it’s like something takes over his brain and he can’t help it. I always knew he loved me, even when I didn’t always understand him.

Though I didn’t always understand him I understood that he wasn’t himself because he was ill. He needed som caring. Sometimes he scared me and I was really worried he would hurt himself or others.

Tourette syndrome is not to be used with heavy medication or drugs. Uneducated people may think this syndrome should be treated with exorcism or drugs.

 

Some things that calmed Ali

My brother used to blow out air and spit. He used to scream and tell everyone to back off. To move out of his way! He used to be in the corner by himself and talk to the voices in his head. I guess it’s genetic. I have some of that but it’s not as severe. He could be very interested in something and have intense feelings. But it’s as if he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, so they sink down to numbness. That’s a chemical imbalance in the brain that people can’t handle on their own. He could say stuff like “I miss you!”, “I love you!” and “I’ll kill you!” following “But I don’t care…”

He could be very interested in something and have intense feelings. But it’s as if he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, so they sink down to numbness. That’s a chemical imbalance in the brain that people can’t handle on their own. He could say stuff like “I miss you!”, “I love you!” and “I’ll kill you!” following “But I don’t care…”.

He was bored and wanted to be entertained or do the entertaining with his friends. Didn’t matter what kind of entertaining. His social skills were great. He loved his friends genuinely. He avoided people that were no good for him to any cost. For instance, he avoided his own mom for her abusive acts. Other kids could have become co-dependent which is even more dangerous. My twin sister got co-dependent and took all the blame they gave her.

He was into God. Because God had rules and made some sense. He had a lot of questions about life and existence. Why are we here? Why do we suffer? How do we get free from people and hurt?

He could be very calm and breezy one moment and the next get triggered so fast, and his tics would start.

It was mostly some specific people that made him tic. Our grandpa was one. My twin sister angered him. She would get on his nerves but not really trigger him. (He didn’t like seeing her in the “club”.) His own dad.

His own mom made him feel sick to his stomach and he would puke when she talked to him. I’m not sure it was because of his tics. I think it’s because she gave him medicine on an empty stomach. The kid barely ate. The fact that, he was disgusted with the way they lied and demanded things from him they couldn’t do themselves.

Music and dancing made him let loose any feel free. He loved listening and singing himself. We would listen to Micheal Jackson. He told our mom that he would one day make a record and name it after her. This kid was a genius, he had his own radio and before you knew it he knew how to press the record button and sing his own songs.

He tried to write letters to my dad when my dad was away. He missed my dad. The thing me and him had in common was that we had no one to look up to. (Actually, I kinda looked up to him.) He only knew what he didn’t want to become I guess. He liked some of my dad’s traits. Like being open for experiments and trying new things.

We liked the rain. We could sit together and do nothing but listen to the rain and watch it pour down. It was a feeling of relief. And then a rainbow would show.

We hugged and kissed and did more than that. Living in survival mood is draining. Some people that calmed him was me. He loved me very much. Too much some would say. I say he loved me with everything he knew and had to offer. He was calmer when he was with me. And I was calmer as well, he was my father figure that took care of me for real. Kissing helped us relax. He used to kiss my lips. But even I couldn’t help when he got triggered. I believe that somethings just need to happen. Tourette syndrome is the way these people get a relief.

And I was calmer as well. Basically, he was my father figure that took care of me for real. Kissing helped us relax. He used to kiss my lips. But even I couldn’t help when he got triggered. I believe that somethings just need to happen. Tourette syndrome is the way these people get a relief.

Sometimes he would just take charge and do what he wanted to do. Keeping his control as much as possible. That annoyed a lot of people that disregarded him. People that disregarded kids in general. People that couldn’t stand kids with strong personalities. The people he couldn’t stand, he tried to stay away from. Even his own mom. He was on the run and had so many enemies for a 6-year-old. That just shows how many people found him a threat.

The people Ali couldn’t stand, he tried to stay away from. Even his own mom. He was on the run and had too many enemies for a 6-year-old. That just shows how many people found him to be a threat.

He felt happy when he found friends in his head. He felt ugly but that was ok because so were most people. He felt happy when he found God.

Fucking raw, without condom. Does kid condoms exist? Well, my grandpa had expectations but Ali was happy and proud to disappoint him.

 

Triggers

His mom always told him how evil his dad was and that his dad hated him. As the days went by he realised more and more that she was the crazy one. She used to drug him and make him drink champagne. Under the influence, he would act out and when she angered him he got triggered and said stuff like “I will kill you!”. His mom all shocked by his behavior started plotting how to kill him first.

Females, they anger him. We are nothing but girls.

All the time he put in into this craft. He saw how others were making bucks and he was just stuck in a kid’s body with a grown up mind.

Me and my twin. We fucking confused him and wasted his love supply.

He felt lonely, no one understood him. He felt ashamed of himself and avoided mirrors like the plague. He saw the monster in there. He felt excited when he was about to meet someone he had waited for. Because he had met so many disappointments, so he turned down his hopes as quickly as they got up.

He was basically repressing his own hype. He didn’t want to take any “medication” but was forced too. It would make him act uncontrollably. They force fed him it. At the same time, when he was drugged they took advantage of him and raped him. He Blamed himself for taking those pills, they would give him on empty stomach. He tried to remember not to take any of that shit. But he “forgot”.

This baby boy didn’t get to sleep well at nights. That is so crucial for a healthy brain development. Ali had nightmares. He had understandable fears and paranoia. My grandpa used to be under our bed and scare the hell out of us. Ali would wake up screaming in the middle of the night even when nothing was going on. This boy needed a hugging and comforting but he got none.

 

People

It triggered him when people didn’t follow the rules they had set up. Any kind of rules. Religious, promises etc. Or when people were hypocrites and lied to him. Ali was a deep thinker and didn’t want to just be around anyone who didn’t understand him; or who was determined to misunderstanding him like my grandpa.

Sometimes I made it worse as well. When he asked me where I had slept. Why I didn’t sleep in his bed. He was always worried. He didn’t like those men that wouldn’t leave neither me nor him alone. So he wanted us to stay together. He got triggered when that didn’t happen and he would hit me.

People disgusted him, and some to the point that he had to throw up. My grandpa, his mom, and Ali’s own friend. Everyone thought he was sick and contagious. Well, he might have been, but why was it just around these people?

I might have triggered Tourette syndrome in him as well. Well, he used to finger me and have sex with me. There is this one time I thought he was going touch me. The grown-ups had just sewn my genital and it hurt like hell. So him touching me and being a fuck boy was not the time at all. He said he just tried to reach toilet paper, wet it and clean something and he wasn’t going to touch me.

But I didn’t trust his hysteric moves. Because sometimes Ali was himself and sensible. Other times he was under the influence. Ain’t nobody got time to explain anything when your genitals hurt. I screamed out and our mom hit his head so badly. He had to get stitches in his head.

 

Thank you for reading through!

 

 

Gun control – Thomas/Ali

Gun control

 

What do you do when you live in a place where your life is not important. You see your friends die in front of you, you know who did it but no one believes you. They want you to say it was you. Should you get your gun or hide?

Ali did both. People are aggressive and defensive in this “profession” and don’t blink twice when it comes to a child’s life. Our mom had children stolen from an orphanage and killed them one by one. Ali himself was close to such an incident but got out of it with a broken collarbone and arm.

People just wanna act up to show who is in control. No fair game what so ever. Our mom used to hit him with pots and pans from the kitchen. He had stitches in his head from several injuries. They let his hair grow out so his scar would be covered.

 

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Thomas/Ali 2001 Skärholmen

Ten years later! They took Ali and me to court for adultery. They actually stole him from the orphanage. he had his bags with him. They told him they were going on a trip. And when I say they I mean my dad. And his stupid Tunisian, Nahda friends. They stole him to finish him. They did not trust that he would keep his mouth shut.

I was 10 years (real age 12). I had forgotten the whole incident. I had forgotten whom my biological mom was. I had forgotten that Ali (Thomas) was my brother. We had sex with each other when we were kids! That’s how long my biological mother’s grudge held on.

Something in my heart told me he is the one. He is the little boy I loved when I was a kid. He was doing something else and when I came, he looked up as if he saw something he had missed for a long time. He was excited to start this new chapter in his life.

Ali tried to get close to me. This year I had worn the hijab and was a bit modest. But I had also given me ears away to them and listened to what they had to say. It was nothing nice. He had cheated on his mom. She didn’t’ want him no more because of all the pain he had caused her when he was a kid.

(I was not aware that I was her daughter as well, and that she had abandoned me too.)

He was not as well dressed as them. He was still the cursed child. Out mother’s daughter later finished her joke with exposing with whom this kid had had adultery with. Me! He snapped at me without meaning to. I got scared and told him I would call the grown-ups if he didn’t stay away. So he did.

For some reason, they had a family reunion but with other families that had nothing to do with us. Actually, they had invited themselves. Our mother was really good at complaining and every one of them was there to witness some drama. Their kids were mugging me and Ali. We were talking and “flirting” and that’s haram. We were just sitting on a bench.

Ali just looked at these kids like, ‘they are about to turn me into the old me’. He was so mature and considerate but didn’t trust these fuckers one bit.

This day is the same day my biological mom’s daughter told her lame jokes about her mother’s son that refused to die. She had hanged him twice and not succeed. She had injured his head in so many ways. She had put him on a train and tried to get rid of him, but he came back. Like what are the odds that a 6-year-old would survive all this abuse. 10 years later, they brought him to kill him in front of me!

He had loved me that long. As if he had not missed a heartbeat. Ali, with the bad memory, remembered me. I, on the other hand, had forgotten about him and all this trauma from when I was a toddler.

 

Curing Ali from being Gay

I was drinking my drink, hoping he would feel left out. Like I don’t hang out with bums. And he looked at me like I know what you are doing and I don’t care about your drink. I was such an asshole. He was not the jealous type but depended on himself.

Yes, he looked around a bit worried. He was careful who he kicks it with. Ignored people that just trash talked. Let people do what they had to do. Unless they crossed us in some manner. These people had been a trouble his whole life. It was cold and rainy outside. But we were outside anyway.

This rape sect still had the old Ali in mind. They were a bit surprised that he hadn’t turned out to be gay. But just in case, they tried to read Quran over him a treat him. The showed some fake concern for him. Isn’t that confusing? There is nothing wrong with being gay right. But when people have been hating on you, your whole life all of a sudden say they care for you.

Ali was focused, disciplined and ready. He had forgiven people that had hurt him so much. But did not trust them one bit.

 

Moon night

They wanted to play it “fair” and gave him a gun and he was now supposed to either shot or get shoot. Ali had long ago left this life of crime hood. He was clean and had nice clothes on him. He was looking around as if things were not as they should be.

All the grown ups were crazy and acting like hooligans in the parking lot. My dad brought Ali/Thomas there and then acted as if he was on his side for a minute. He never was. My dad emptied Ali’s gun. This was planned. They would have finished him some way or another.

All of sudden everyone was called outside to the parking lot. I didn’t want to go outside because I had a bad feeling. I guess they had given him alcohol, as they usual do when they are setting him up for failure, that night before. They prayed together. Ali prayed with us even when he didn’t know how to. Our biological mother’s kids were making fun of him. He prayed because I was there.

Gosh, I missed this guy even when I didn’t know or remember him. We have had som much history and it’s funny how a mind can get so attached to a beautiful soul and big heart. Yea, I’m proud of him. This guy was the only guy that understood true love.

They talked to him about an afterlife. A promising paradise with no more suffering. All this depended on the winner of this gambling game the grown-ups had set up. (I find it disturbing saying grown-ups, Ali was a youngster and I need you to see the difference. That’s all.)

 

Hodaifa

Hodaifa (KC’ brother) is the kid’s name that shot my brother. He sure has picked up the family business. This kid, later on, got a head injury tricked by my dad.

(As usual, they were having a gambling battle in the underground mosque in Stockholm City. My dad asked the kids to run into a brick wall with their heads first! The one with the strongest head would win something. It was played and giggle until Hodifa’s dad put my sister’s life on the table and wanted to take her home. Basically exchange of children. So my dad danged this kid head into the wall and made it seem like an accident.

This time they would run as fast as possible from a distance and Hodaifa had to start first. bang, he lost his stupid brain. The thing he has left is of no use since he picked up this rape business as well.)

He was such a winner when he shot my brother. Everyone was celebrating him and his cockiness. And then he raped me and hit me to proclaim his prize.

They ditched my brother’s body beside the parking lot in the bushes. Even if he had life in him it would have been too late for him to be saved. My dad set the bushes on fire.

(Skärholmen, 2001)

Ali or Thomas, is a miracle child that has truly survived a lot. I don’t want to believe it’s the end there for him. If he is still out there somewhere I hope he is fully alive and doing well. ❤

I love this guy!

Thank you for reading through!

Biological sister

Thank God

Thank God I have a lot of biological sisters but not all of them are my sisters. Thank God. Who can be proud over a cannibal sister? A hard task I’m not up to. The only thing we have in common is my name.

 

 

Terrorist Biological mother

 

I really thought my mother was Hayet. Not my bad. Just before we start, let me tell you that I know there are a lot of people who are pissed off. Good, that’s the fucking point and I won’t stop there. And some of you are after me already. Especially those young guys that have picked up the family business here in Malmö. I know you, I see you. I might be a friend of your sister but there is a reason your name is with police. 😉

Guys that can’t even wipe their own ass, acting all grown up and as marriage material. Nah, I haven’t been swept by my feet for grander illusions. So sit your ass down and take a lesson in the difference between being kind and flirting. Nah, I’m not a player, I don’t play around. Oh, you are acting… keep acting. I guess we just see the world the way you are… rapist! Hayet raised me to respect everyone the same, from the school janitor to the CEO. You are neither.

There is no Salem between us Osama and Ahmed… none. How can you say that when you have two religions. If you thought I was a dumb Muslim, by now, you should get a grip. I’m not even Muslim by your definition. I am not submissive to being drugged and raped. I am not submissive to people taking away mine and other humans rights. I am not submissive to eating meat I don’t know where it came from… You are a bunch of killers.

People who make jokes to killers, like “where do you hid the body?”. These folk’s don’t, they eat it.

 

Btw, Salem… my dad’s good old friend. My mother’s fuck buddy. Hey there, I’m kinda expecting you the most. Still hanging around out there? Too bad they don’t have execution by hanging in Sweden. I won’t stop till I see what happened to my brother happen to all Y’all.

 

 

You know, that pisses me off. How come we don’t have death penalties in Sweden anymore. Oh, right… human rights. Human right’s keep criminals like you safe. It really pisses me off, since my biological mother have been handing out death penalties to children and people she doesn’t even know. Spreading fear in the hearts of innocent people. Their crime; people with integrity. Don’t think for one second that I feel any remorse for you. Just like Ali never did! It’s not “poor” you. “You did what you needed to do by any means.”  or “You have political and religious views that need to be respected.” None of that! Respect yourself, that’s how you get respect by me. Don’t hurt people.

 

Stories by my biological mother’s daughter

So here is a story about my biological terrorist mother’s daughter. She knows I am her sister and have been amused by the fact that I didn’t know who my real mother was. here are some “funny” things she has told me.

When I was a kid my biological mother missed me and invited me to a sleepover at their house. I’m not gonna talk about all the drugs and rape that happened there now.

I’m just going to briefly tell you little sayings by her daughter.

“My mom has killed a child. When mommy was young she wasn’t really a Muslim. She met other guys and she drank and had a gangsta life. Anyway, she got pregnant by a Swedish guy and had a son by him.

This kid’s name was Ali. He was not right in his mind so she had to execute him. She tried to hang him twice. But the rope broke, hehe. Finally, she put him on a train in Skärholmen. She had too, he was really crazy.”

The first thing is first. You knew about Ali! Yes, he is my brother. He was not crazy, your mom was (excuse me: is – she is crazy) and she drove him there. Why are you repeating what your mom is saying? She hanged him twice! Twice! GOD TOLD HER NO! TWICE!

Really? Would she tell you the story from Ali’s perspective? Are you still going to be loyal when the both of you get jail raped? Oh, you are used to being raped -willfully. Unlike you, Ali refused to be brainwashed. So did I and Fatima.

Do you wanna know the real reason why Ali and Fatima are dead? Because my dad and your mom treated them like dogs and Fatima and Ali was loyal like dogs. When they said no to soul death they got killed. I was a stray cat, I used to bite and be aggressive and grumpy. None of them impressed me in any way but I had to survive.

I don’t find it funny when people die! Your mom is not a gangsta. She is a terrorist. Learn the difference. 

Ali was in the streets, coming out swinging with knives. I know that. Your mom spreading rumors about him on the street, telling everyone he was doing crack. She gave that to him. Did you know that? He just didn’t give a fuck. He was sick of bitches. He was mad at life. Your mom didn’t even know where he was many times. The way he ran away from her. He took care of himself. When she caught him she killed him.

Your mom is full of excuses to why she killed him. None of them will help her out here in the human world. Even animals don’t do the shit she did.

Once I attacked my dad with a huge stick, guess what he told me. Torbit omek! I was confused – my mom doesn’t do that. But my biological mom does.

Ali just did what your mom had taught him in the bedroom, now in the streets. With a twist of his own. He told people to pull his hair, spit on him, touch him. He knew a dirty word: “Hello!”. That’s how rapists talk you know. That’s why he wouldn’t just say it to anyone. Did you know that?

 

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Guess who told him to do all these stuff anyway. My dad! Yeah, he told the kid you had to do these stuff to blow up and have a successful business. Your mom was not even in our house most of the time… please, why is she lying about it?

There were a lot of bullies on the block. Everyone just found him to be a good victim. From your mom to my dad and grandpa. To you, who don’t even know him! Your mom said to him: “If you have a brain you will be dangerous.”. She is one of those moms who wants a dumb sex slave. She tried to make him an underachiever som much he almost believed her. He told her he will grow up and be famous and be a pain in the butt.

If he was dumb he wouldn’t have been able to take care of me.

Btw! The reason you are in Sweden is that of Ali! Your mom’s hoe ass would have been sent back to Tunisia if it weren’t for him.

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(Your mom accused him of adultery with me. Guess what, we were married. He didn’t want to be her sex slave! )

 

She had a bunch of kids. Choose which to kill and which to keep. Ayo, your mom put me in an oven and Ali rescued me. She killed my brother and my twin sister. And here you are, and you are telling me your mom is a different person now. No. You wouldn’t find it amusing that I’m being raped unconsciously. Aren’t you proof enough that she sucks?Logic much?

Story 2

I asked her: what is the place we used to train Jujutsu in called. “Hehehe, why are you so lost in your head. We weren’t playing Jujutsu, we were playing karate. You don’t even know what you are doing.”

How come you know that? It was jujutsu, I read it every day. Your mom taught you well the art of invalidation.

 

Why did you come to my student fest? I shouldn’t have gone to yours. Why are you talking to me about your miscarriage? (Good, you don’t need any… you will just let your husband rape them.) Why are you taking me cruising around as a show in the mosque, Muslim family days in Sweden, Skärholmen Centrum, as if “I take care of my invalid sister”. Who the fuck are you kidding? I never felt like you were my sister, honey.

Why do you take me to all these places? When all you do after that is fuck me over. How come it all ends with rape? What business has your dad in my vagina? What business has your mom in mine and kids vaginas and penises. Why are you, sick people?

Meat is a bit expensive. I understand that. I don’t understand why you are eating humans thou. Is it cheapness, revenge of some sort, hate crime, sex slave need to be hidden… I don’t understand that. Do you know what cows eat? they eat grass… you should try that. Because that is what your mom gave Ali. She broke his arm and collarbone. She starved him for weeks. She starved me for weeks, I ate crayons. I hope you feel like you are very special to your mom now.

She didn’t eat you. That’s odd. You don’t taste good?

Remember the story you told me about your mom, that she can’t work with children? Because “she get’s the urge to eat them”. I couldn’t take you seriously. But yeah, your mom does. I have seen her torture kids and eating them. I guess that is why I got my trauma and erased her from my memory. Who want’s that? Not me, not Ali, not Fatima. We three just tried to survive a world were too many kids died.

We were in the same kindergarten. He was totally fine. He didn’t say much. He took care of me when he could. I had the best bro ever. And the sickest/most disgusting mother ever. He kept things straight. His room, morals, business. They told him he was gay when he was good. Well, you people are big hypocrites. That’s crazy of you ask me! Why don’t you talk to those who worked in kindergarten and saw Ali? Why are you satisfied with a human being’s right being taken away? Are you aware that you are brainwashed? Are you aware that this is

Why don’t you talk to those who worked in kindergarten and saw Ali? Why are you satisfied with a human being’s right being taken away? Are you aware that you are brainwashed? Are you aware that this is criminal? Doesn’t fucking matter that is was your mom. Talking shit! It will all backfire on you.

He didn’t like Fatima being in the club. You kids probably lived in a safe world. your dad wasn’t as sick as ours. Ali looked up to my dad. Whatever crazy Ali did is because my dad taught him.

Poor you – you have a stupid sister

How is your face of any blessing to me? How come money is more important to you than human rights? How come you talk to me as if I am your sister when it suits you of course? Why are you using me when I don’t know, and why are you hiding the things that I need to know from me? I never understood why you people are jealous and why Hayet is protecting you. Oh, you believe that I deserve shit. So you became shit. OK then, stay shit.

All of you have been acting like the police. Time to say hello to the real ones. Tell them that story you told me, please. Tell them how much your mom was in pain but she did what she had to do. Please tell them the stories about those other kids as well. Don’t forget them.

She did it right in front of my face. She had no remorse. She did it to brag to my grandpa. That’s it!

And obviously, that kind of bragging works on you.

 

Silly me

 

The stories about your mom… I don’t know so many irrelevant stories about anyone else as I do about your mom. I don’t like sticking my nose into other people’s business much. I don’t understand why you kept yours in mine. Your mom declared me dead when she gave you my name. That’s it, you should have stayed out, all of you.

I guess I am silly because I never realized you were trying to figure out if I remember things from my childhood. Hehe, funny poking at a dead thing right here. That’s what your mom taught you. Thank God she was out of my life. That’s a good enough reason to not want her. But you can’t thank me for being silly and giving you a great mom. Thank my dad for drugging me and not caring for me. Gosh, it’s hard to not have parents. But it’s even harder when they are out doing you. Because they believe in rape and dishonesty.

 

Don’t talk about a story you can’t even handle bitch! What? Is the truth too raw for you?

Thank you for reading through!

 

 

Biological mother

Biological mother

Guess what. Today I realized who my biological mother is. Zazia, hey girl! Long time no sees. Oh, it must be my fault. I forget about you in Russia.

 

Thank you!

Now I get why you have been checking me out, my whole life. Yes, your retarded son has my nose. And no, we are still not family. You killed my siblings. You decided which of your children to keep and which not to.

Poor Hayet, I blamed her for shit you did. True there is no one like you out there in being savage. Your family must win again. You killed Ali. You killed my twin sister Fatima. You choose to not keep me. You interviewed Hayet for the blind marriage, between her and my dad.

They way you are so fat. There is always time for tea and cake in your life. Do you still like parties? How about a DNA check party? Hmm?

I’m not born 1991, I’m older. Thanks for letting me know. Also thanks for sending me Tasnim in school. I mean, her mom is your best friend and all but, fucking grow up. I’m just too curious… do you still drag bodies across the floor to make the floors red? Do you still hang out together like that? And then make the house swim in water. Fun times.

I really loved the beach. I loved walking around in my bikini. So did Ali. In bikini. I loved him for it. Such a king. He loved the beach so much, you had to let him be buried in the sea. Thank you! 🙂

 

I’m my mother’s daughter

Obviously, Hayet raised me. My identity used to be: I am my mother’s daughter. Turns out I have no mother what so ever. If it had been you Zazia, I would have been dead and made your kids even happier. Do you notice how much evilness you trigger in your men? Yeah, my nose and that exaggerated evilness streak in me are from you. You really tricked Hayet. You had two men and choose the least worse one for yourself. At least Hayet wanted a lot of kids, but she also kept them. She didn’t kill them like you. Who does that? You think you are a gangster? You think your crying husband is a gangster because he walks around with guns? What a taste you have.

Yeah, my nose and that exaggerated evilness streak in me are from you. You really tricked Hayet. You had two men and choose the least worse one for yourself. At least Hayet wanted a lot of kids, but she also kept them. She didn’t kill them like you. Who does that? You think you are a gangster? You think your crying husband is a gangster because he walks around with guns? What a taste you have.

You think you are a gangster? You think your crying husband is a gangster because he walks around with guns? Shit what a taste…

 

The real crazies!

You are all crazy. Between me and you, it’s you who are the crazy one in comparison to my dad. Hayet didn’t leave us kids to him like you did. You starved us and ate cake yourself. How could you let my dad desicate Fatima like that? He took away one leg, fingers, an eye and burned her hair!!!

Just so you know. Me, Ali and Fatima think it’s you! Thanks for supporting our father in his craziness as well. A beautiful community you created. Yes, you! And your best friend, of course! I mean the dating invention you people created is a Nobel Prize winner. All these tunnels and stairs you let your men build through different apartments. Did you find your way up to heaven yet? Fancy swimming pools and elevators in the house. Real engineers. With a tropical touch of sharks. One of a kind. The Russians are jealous.

Was Ali too gay for you? All these grown ass men you had as a role model for him. Seriously though. Your “men” dressed in dresses and put on makeup and wore heels. Where do you think Ali picked up the habit from? Yeah, them “men”.

These “men”, are not men. And you are not a woman because real women want respect, but girls want attention. Fatima, for instance, wanted respect. You “grown-ups” were and still are a bunch of teenagers.

 

Corrupt “Police”

How could you tell Ali that Lamine should have killed him instead of that lovely ginger baby Lamine had kidnapped from an orphanage? How is killing right in any way? Yeah, that baby truly loved you. He was very compassionate. But so did Ali. But do you really think you are love material? How come you are looking for true love when you don’t have any in you? You have to be “true love” to attract true love. Even Ali left you cuz’ you had none in you. What was the weapon you used to hit his head so badly? You shoot him with something. Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out just like I figured out who you really are!

All you did in your life was smoke, drink and have sex with a lot of teenagers. So don’t blame me for leaving you. Oh, and you forced kids to raise their hands and participate in getting raped. Thank you for your strong character! Corrupt police force!

 

Are you love material?

But do you really in your fucking sane mind think you are love material? How come you are looking for true love when you don’t have any in you? You have to be “true love” to attract true love. Even Ali left you cuz’ you had none in you. What was the weapon you used to hit his head so badly? You shoot him with something. Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out just like I figured out that you are my biological mother. Shit, you lived 20 minutes away from me and you always looked at me like you don’t know me!

One sec though… You really, really think you are love material? You are not even girlfriend material. Chill your itchy tits bitch. Obs, I mean hold your horses. Horny killer.

 

Kids or dogs?

If you have a dog that barks at an intruder. Do you still listen to the intruder or do you listen to your dog? You should have listened to Ali, as the dog he was to you. Yeah, you raised us like dogs but you don’t even understand dogs. How will you understand humans? Ali barked at my grandpa! A lot!!! He fought him like a lion!

But NOOO, kids need to be raped. That’s how you raise them. You never intended to keep your own son. Or Fatima. Or me. Don’t you dare to call Ali a cheater! You cheated on Ali first! With my grandpa. You are a sucker for dick and he is a sucker for love.

 

Man vs. Boy

Sorry, I stole the only man you had. But real men can’t be stolen. He left. Sorry, you drunk ass bitch. You ruined his brain with all the alcohol you gave him. But still, he knew better than to be with you. He wanted a woman that respected herself. 😉 Here you have me. Thank you!

How the hell could you afford champagne anyway?

Thank God, I respected myself enough to forget you ever gave birth to me.

 

True Love vs. Clingy Hoe

He left your clingy co-dependent platinum vagina, that made him sick. Ali was clearly better than anyone out there. He challenged grandpa and made him realize how wack he was. My grandpa didn’t hate Ali because Ali wasn’t a good boy. He hated him because Ali pointed out his insecurities and flaws. Is there a problem with that?  Sex is an art of true Love. Obviously, no one out there was better than Ali at Love! True Love.

If you had any real love in you, why would you trash talk your own son with everyone? Even me! Why would you alienate him from his siblings? Why weren’t we allowed to be like brother and sister? The answer: you had no love in you, for you to teach your kids to love one another. But we did anyway. We were taught from God. It’s unfortunate we loved your way though. How come you don’t like what you teach us, and who’s fucking fault is that? That’s the only “love” that we saw and excited.

It’s unfortunate we loved your way though. Yes, we had sex. How come you don’t like what you teach us, and who’s fucking fault is that? That’s the only “love” that we saw and that existed around us.

 

Fatima!

You left Fatima in our dad’s rape/drama and blamed Fatima. Are you insane? So what is a kid supposed to do when they are being hit on their face? To raise it’s hands up when its parents tell it to. Oh, so you were the police? We must have misunderstood the difference between parenting and policing. Our bad. Such an experience to watch your own daughter lose fingers, a leg and get a jerked spine so she lost her speaking ability. I mean, how often do you experience that? You had only this one chance. I mean, all these kids that you ate but noo.

Such an experience to watch your own daughter lose fingers, a leg and get a jerked spine so she lost her speaking ability. I mean, how often do you experience that?

He malformed her face. Because she wouldn’t smile or let herself be impressed by him. Because she was scared. So he tore her lips like the joker’s face. I mean Zazia, how often do you experience that?

But you only had this one chance. I mean, all these kids that you ate but noo. Popcorn anyone? I know you love drama, but that’s not even called drama. You helped him write a script, film her, and sex groom her. That’s not how you help mentally ill people Zazia. Oh, gosh who am I talking to. You people used to act together in front of the camera to sell dramas.

It must have been fun for you to dress up and role play. In your eyes though, the only one who was acting was Fatima. Acting like she doesn’t know who is rolling her life. Who doesn’t want a boss for a mother? That can’t even press the record button. Lucky you, you had two babies to play with and destroy. I hope you understand that that’s not drama.

It’s called survival. I survived! Rape is a sex crime. You took my twin away from me. You took me away from her. You took us away from each other. 

 

I’m the only kid you will regret giving birth to!

 

Dating – Stoneage way?

Dating experiment that went too far, anyone? Oh, no… it’s probably just my fault all of it. I made you do whatever you did. You are such a heaven sent white lady that like to eat people and cake. What could possibly be wrong with you? Everyone wants such a mother for their children. And every kid wants you as a mother as well. What kid doesn’t dream about being cooked in an oven? Or washing machine? Huh? Or being stomped to death? I mean, all these options and more. Dream life. The creative life.

 

My Name

You know, I grew up thinking I was named after Shakib’s daughter Amina. My mom felt sorry for how they never changed her diaper. Poor girl. Turns out, she was me. And you two played football with me. Bitches!

 

Blood, blood, blood

Blood is thicker than water they say. Thank God water is better to drink than blood. Washed my hand from you a long time ago.

Do you still hunt people in the beach forest? A question: How many kids do you need to eat to gain 50 kg?

 

Hello!

After 28-29 years, I’m back to just say hello. Damn, you lived 20 minutes away from me. That makes you the best mom ever. Thanks for keeping yourself out of my life, I needed that.

Hello, I just wanted to say Hello!

 

Thank you for reading through!

A quick crash course below for the oblivious:

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