I was driven out of my home by an angry mob; they were looking for the convicted rapist who got moved in downstairs. I think that the letting agents knew who he was.
His family got out-of-hours service at night time, less than two hours after the incident, while I had to wait over a month to get my toilet fixed. The pug-faced fat cunts who run the agency - all of whom seem to see themselves as supermodels - didn't even bother to apologise or call me back, then binned my post because they are lazy. The police were no help, and honestly seemed amused by the whole thing.
My eleven months in that house, during which time I paid my rent early every time, did my best to be a model neighbour, and kept the place immaculate, was the first time in my life that I have ever been happy.
Now I'm stuck in a bug-infested shithole miles from the shops with no recourse at all. Meanwhile, everyone else involved was rewarded:
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The rapist was removed at public expense, and likely given a grant of several hundred pounds for his trouble.
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The landlord gets more rent, which was raised after I moved out.
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The agents get their cut, which is now larger, and got rid of a tenant who knew their real nature.
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The mob had their fun.
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The police had a good laugh at my expense,
I am so consumed by rage and a desire for revenge that I cannot function properly. If I ever see the rapist again, I may do something foolish.
This is literally the story of my life - paying the price for everyone else's transgressions.
So please, please, tell me how I'm supposed to love my neighbour when he and everyone else involved have done nothing but hurt me and been rewarded for it. Am I just a cosmic joke?