Jojo over heaven

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My father did not leave me anything.
This is only natural, as my father did not have a penny to his name.
He did have debts, but it was within the scope of something I could
manage to come up with. Even the debts of my meager father were meager----
Well, I suppose you couldn't expect anyone in that city to be foolish enough to
lend that father of mine money.
However, while that man did not bequeath to me anything, at death's
door, he pointed me on a certain "path
He gave me certain "information
If you could call that an inheritance, then I suppose you could call it
mine.
One could say that that was the one thing given to me by that man
whom had done nothing but take.----- At the very end of his life, that man, Dario
Brando, went from a being "taker" to being a "giver
That made me unhappy.
Crushingly unhappy.
By converting just as the curtain was about to draw on his life, it seemed
possible to me that that man, that man whom you could not describe as anything
less than a scoundrel, may have gone to heaven. That idea made my skin crawl. I
knew the possibility was only very slight, but---- it was unbearable.
The idea that at the end, he felt sympathy for the son he had so
relentlessly abused made my body feel like it would go into convulsions.
I didn't think that my mother could have gone to heaven, but I thought
my father could have.
"If he did..." I thought.
"If he did, I would have to go to heaven.----- I would have to reunite with
him there so I could kill that man once again."
That's the sort of thing I thought.