MOTHER'S DAY HORROR STORY

Ever since I moved out 20 years ago, I've made sure to visit my mother regularly, especially on Mother's Day. My dad passed away when I was in school, and most of my siblings rarely visit her. I don't blame them, though. None of them could ever be worse to her than our youngest brother. He never moved out and made a life for himself because he never cared about school or getting a job. Even when he did try to work for a few days at a handful of different minimum-wage jobs, he'd inevitably end up getting fired by his third shift due to his extreme behavioral issues. Our family did everything for the guy, but he always returned our kindness by picking fights, stealing from us, or running away. The only times I voluntarily used violence against him were the times he got into physical altercations with our mother. Despite being such a useless sack of [__], nothing was ever good enough for him. We might have never had a father, but he's the deadbeat scumbag that tore our family apart. A sense of dread planted itself in me the moment I realized that he was going to be living with my mother and leeching off her for the rest of her life. Every time I thought about either of them, it grew stronger. Even though I hated my brother's guts, I still visited them at least once a month. Over the years, the condition of the household only became worse. Every single time I walked in the door, I would hear my brother screaming at my mother about something totally silly. Whether it was about the litter boxes or groceries, it didn't matter. He would blow up about anything at a moment's notice, and there was never any end to his rage. As my mother got older, my brother took more and more control over her. I used to think I could still take him in a fight like I did when we were younger. Every time I visited, he was more unhinged than the previous visit. The tension between us grew as I gradually realized that my little brother wasn't so little anymore. He was a mentally sick incel with infinite pent-up rage and the strength to seriously hurt somebody. He took out his self-isolating misery on our mom, and anyone who got close to him would get dragged down to his level. I started visiting less. I was afraid. He would stare at me whenever I was over, trying to find some tiny reason to get mad at me and pick a fight. My mother was a shell of her former self. All the control she ever had over her son was gone. He was the one in control. One time, I visited for the first time in a while and nearly got stabbed at the door by my brother. He was furious with me, claiming that I was trying to make him homeless. That's when I realized he had been listening to our phone calls, and that's the last time I visited my mother for almost a year. However, I knew I had to check on her. Mother's Day was coming up in a few days, so I called to let her know I was planning to visit. She mentioned she was going to make dinner, but before I could say I'd come hungry, my brother snatched the phone out of her hand and hung up. I knew it was not going to be a pleasant visit, but I still intended to be there on Mother's Day. I went to her house and knocked on the door. There was no answer after several knocks, so I opened the door, expecting to have my brother jump out and run me off the property. But to my surprise, it seemed like nobody was home. All the lights were off, and the house was shockingly quiet. I hadn't heard the house so calm since before my little brother was born, but it was the opposite of comforting. I stepped inside and called out to my mother without an answer, "Mom, are you home?" Then I turned on the foyer lights, and that's when my worst nightmare appeared. I saw my brother crouched on the kitchen counter, completely soaked in blood. He held a knife in his hand and was smiling like an utter psycho. For a few seconds, I was speechless, struggling to speak. Finally, I managed to get the words out, "Uh, where's Mom?" "We need a new one. The old one's back there," he then pointed his thumb over his shoulder to the backyard. I immediately ran through the front door and went around the side of the house to the backyard. The pool was stained red. My mother was floating face down in the center, drenched in blood. In that instant, I broke down into hysterical tears right next to the pool. I barely had enough control over my body to take my phone out of my pocket and call the police. I was on the phone with them, sobbing and trying to tell them what happened when my brother came outside. As soon as I saw him, I ran back to my car and locked myself in. Minutes later, a swarm of cops arrived and subdued my brother, putting him in handcuffs and stuffing him into the backseat of a cop car. Ever since then, he's acted like he has no idea what's going on, as if that's going to convince anyone that he's innocent. He keeps saying that it wasn't our mom who was in the pool and that it was a completely different woman. To this day, I'm not sure if my brother was lying or if he genuinely had mental issues. I just hope he rots in jail and his cellmates give him a taste of what he did to our mother. This story was inspired by a horrific incident regarding a man in Las Vegas, Nevada, who allegedly took out his mother on Mother's Day and then threw her body in a backyard swimming pool. The culprit was a 49-year-old man named Aaron Cooney. The victim's name was Linda Cooney. The incident occurred on Sunday morning at the residence where officers responded to the gruesome scene. Aaron Cooney's brother said the alleged killer lived with his mother and several others in the residence. When arrested, the defendant was apparently in an advanced state of denial or perhaps something else entirely, saying stuff like, "That's not our mom, anyways, we need a new one." The brother who spoke to law enforcement reportedly said that he asked Aaron where their mother was before finding her in the pool. The violence, however, did not seemingly come out of the blue. The brother allegedly told police that months earlier, the grieving son said Aaron had threatened their mother with a knife during an argument about cats. On multiple other occasions, the defendant insisted on his innocence, stating that he wasn't a murderer. Aaron has since been sentenced accordingly.