The Ugliness of Life (Terror)

As a child our family moved to Utah (after the divorce of my parents). Shortly after arriving there, my mom met a man. Mother never had trouble meeting men. She was physically attractive ... and unfortunately she had a bulls-eye on her back for every loser that was ever born. This man's name was Mack... and he was mean! He liked using people as punching bags. Go Mack! What a guy.

One day my brother and I were walking home from school. We lived in a mobile home park and as you came into it there a a nice clubhouse in the center, a pool and playground directly behind it, and streets to the left and right of it. We lived down the left side. As we were heading around the corner of the building I could hear someone screaming. It was a woman and she was screaming for help at the top of her lungs. Tony and I continued to walk until the woman came into view. It was our mother. She was running in the middle of the street trying to get away from Mack. I could see the rage on his face. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My brain wasn't processing it.

Next thing I know, Mack has caught up to her. She had a rope style necklace on. He caught the necklace and started twisting it from the back... choking her as he pulled her backwards across the street. I could see her hands at her neck trying to loosen it. It was terrible. What should I do? I was 9 years old. I didn't know what to do. I was terrified.

I grabbed my brother and ducked behind some hedges planted against the clubhouse. We crouched down there while I tried to figure out what to do. Should I go into the clubhouse and ask one of the ladies to call the police? No, Mack would kill Mom as soon as the police showed up. Should I ask one of the ladies to walk with us to the house? No, if I did that he'd kill us and then kill Mom. Should I try to find someone from our Ward to help? No... again, all I could see is all of us being murdered. I was running out of time because no matter what it was time for us to be arriving home from school. If we were much later we'd be in big trouble. Much more trouble than we were already in.

This is the insanity running through my 9 year old brain. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!!! Finally I stand up and take Tony home.

When we get home, everything is quiet. Mack is sitting at the kitchen table. Mom is standing at the sink. She tells us to go to our rooms... she'll talk to us later. Perhaps an hour later she quietly comes into my room and tells me to quickly pack a few pieces of clothes and personal items in my pillow case. I'm to stay in my room until she tells me to come out.

I didn't know it at the time but she's drugged Mack and is waiting for him to fall asleep. As soon as he does, she sneaks us out the back door and down through the yards of other homes to a friend who will take us to a safe place. We couldn't take our car because Mack has removed something so it won't start. As we were fleeing our home, I was 100% sure Mack was going to wake up and come running after us. I kept looking over my shoulder to see if he was following us.... even in the car as we finally drove away. I knew we were going to die that day.

You know the really sad thing? I was correct to a degree. Part of me did die that day. To this day, in spite of everything else that has happened in my life, that day without question still remains the most terrifying day of my life.