04/11/2025
EXCERPT FROM “Caught in the Narcissists’ Web: When Family Becomes the Enemy”
Chapter: Cuckoo for Carnage
I woke up thirsty one night and slowly made my way toward the door in our darkened bedroom, heading to the kitchen.
Grasping the doorknob, I pushed, then paused, as I heard voices thick with emotion coming from the living room. It sounded like Anton, Angela, and Sharon.
I kept the door cracked as I stood there, looking on as I listened to their conversation. The three of them were sitting on the couch, in the midst of a fiery discussion.
Sharon was quickly looking from one of them to the other, her face twisted into an ugly mask of rage.
Suddenly, she spat out, “I want you both to help me beat his ass!”
Her voice was steadily rising in volume. I didn’t know who she was talking about, but I gathered it was someone she was dating.
Then it was Anton’s turn to speak. “Sharon,” he said, his eyes pleading with her to calm down. He held up his hand, palm side outward, as if preparing to fend off a blow. “We can’t just go over there and beat up this man for no reason!”
He looked over at Angela, who was sitting there silently, as if to say, Jump in. Help me. Don’t make me do all of the talking.
Angela hesitated a moment, then looked at her and said cautiously, “Sharon, we can’t—”
Suddenly, Sharon jumped up as if she had been shot out of a cannon. A look of complete lunacy came over her face. It looked like a combination of rage and a mental breakdown. Eyes wild and staring up at the ceiling, arms flailing wildly about her head—
“Aaghh, aaghh!” she cried out violently, her voice becoming deep and guttural.
She grabbed her car keys and ran outside, slamming the door behind her.
Angela and Anton looked at each other, bewildered and shell-shocked, as if to say, What the f**k was that? They looked like they had just seen a tornado blow through the room.
At that moment, it seemed like they had connected the dots and realized there was something very wrong with Sharon—but I think they knew before that. And I think our brother Reuben Jr., the therapist, knew before any of us.
By this point, hearing the noise, the other kids started stirring in their beds, beginning to wake up. Not really knowing what to think—because the chaos was a regular part of my life now—I quietly closed the door and crept back to bed.
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