Recently one of the few blood relatives I have left, an aunt died. She was 86years old and her death was related to an infection she has had for years. Although she was never cruel to me or even mean, it was pretty well documented in my family that she was an evil person, a truly an evil person. She never wronged me in any way but I can't forgive her for the things she done, not like I would need to either since admit her actions never affected me in any way. But I know the things she did, and upon hearing about her death the first thing I said was "that I hope that heartless bitch suffered", which in turns out she did, physically and emotionally right before her death. It was a terrible way to go but if anybody deserved that kind of torture it was her. I try to forgive her, but I am not strong enough too and I don't think I ever can. Now sitting back, thinking about her I am actually starting to take pleasure in her death and the way she died. I wasn’t their, we weren't even close enough for me to be asked which even if I was I wouldn’t of come. I in vision her on her death bed in the hospital, physically and emotionally a wreck, and the thought of it makes me truly happy in a way I can't even begin to describe. It's sick, unpleasant, and probably social-pathic but knowing that this women is dead and knowing the circumstances of her death has been one of the few things that have brought a smile to my face.