Episode 89 – The Captive Rebel and The Kingdom of Bullies…

Some of us are born to keep the peace.
Some of us are born to challenge it.

And the Kingdom of Bullies, oh, they love a good captive rebel. They love to wag their fingers, whisper behind backs, and punish the one person brave enough to name the game.

You see, the Wound of the Captive Rebel isn’t just about the bruise you get when the Bully shoves you; it’s the exile, the silence, the little familial daggers disguised as “concern” or “advice.”

“Why can’t you just let things go?”
“You’re too sensitive.”
“Don’t rock the boat, you’ll upset Dad or Fanny.”

Well, Fanny’s been upset since 1983 and nobody cared about my boat back then.

And here’s the part they don’t like to admit:

I was always the easiest target.
Because I was honest.
Because I was different.
Because I wouldn’t fall in line.

And let’s be real, what was Bully’s plan, anyway? Get rid of me? Erase me like a stain on his carefully rewritten family history? Hand in hand with Franny, the perfect partner-in-silence, wringing her hands and playing innocent while happily holding the other end of the rope?

Because what better way to secure your stolen empire than to isolate the only one who remembers how it used to be?

You see, it wasn’t enough for them to take.
They needed to make sure I stayed gone.
Or quiet.
Or crazy.

But there’s a problem with their plan.
The rebel they tried to exile has a pen.
And a voice.
And ancestors on speed dial.

And Saul? Well, poor Saul. He was their loyal foot soldier for years. Till he tripped over his conscience and found his way back to the truth ( after he found out they screwed him on the will!). It happens.
The Kingdom of Bullies loves its pawns… right up until they stop playing.

I came home to heal.
They came to conquer.
And for a while, it looked like they won.

But you can’t keep a rebel in a cage for long.
Not when the cage door was built on lies.

And today?
I let the wound bleed.
I name the pain.
And I write.

Because even if nobody in Bully’s kingdom reads it – the Universe does.
And so do those who carry wounds like mine.

Rebels rise. Even with scars. Especially with scars.

Message from Sir Percival:

Sir Percival here… they tried to declaw me once. I pissed in their shoes and went back to sleep. Stay feral, kid.