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Childless
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To understand the stabbing, you must first understand the time it was in my drug addled life.
I met her through mutual friends in the fall of 1996, I was 22 at the time and we met at a meth party.
Yeah, I once was quite the tweeker, a product of Nancy Reagan's "Just say NO" project, but of the generation of "Fuck that, lets say Yes!"
Anyway, we seemed to hit it off pretty nicely, did dates, hung out and everything was cool. I thought I found "the one". The trouble with finding "the one" is that it puts stupid blinders on your head, with bitchen' sex and emotional attatchment added, I was hooked. Did I mention sex? Yeah, this chick could fuck, crazy fuckin', man. No holes barred.
What I didn't know but quickly found out is that she was psycho and her psychoticness came on slowly and I'd never really been in many violent encounters at this point in my life. What went fro the odd punch in the face to being assaulted with a baseball bat was the relationship (me being the recipiant) to gnarly make-up sex was the norm. This shit went on for three years.... At some point I decided to clean up, quit doing dope, I really didn't enjoy it anymore anyway and get on with life. I was making decent money in the construction field and wanted a normal life.... Not to happen. She came home one night and attacked me and I was the fucker to go to jail. I was pretty pissed, but like an idiot, I went back to her a week later despite the court order. We were gonna work it out...... Yeah right.
Febuary 5, 1999, I come home frome work and she was out with wer tweeker friends and this pissed me off 'cause I wanted out of that life but she didn't. She came home and we started fighting and I was done. I told her I'd pick my shit up in the morning and we were done. Even 'Crika has a limit for the amount of shit he'll put up for freaky sex. So, That was it, I told her it was over and walked out of the house and right out of the door she hit me in the back. Felt like a carlie horse on the left side of my upper back and a biting pain in the kidney on the right, even now I don't know why I went back in the house but I did. Silence. What went from a raging domestic dispute turned into a staring contest.Finaly she broke the silence by asking "Do you want me to pull that knife out of your back?"
WHAT THE FUCK! I go to the bathroom mirror and sure enough there's a goddamn fillet knife handle sticking out of my back. Shit, this isn't good, no sir. A lot of the next five minuets are hazy, as I was in a bit of shock, so bear with me and I'll answer questions later...
She pulled the knife out and I felt a rush of air come from my lungs, but not from my windpipe and a sticky warm, wet rush down my back and down the crack of my ass. I went back into the bathroom to see the damage and knew I was fucked six ways from Sunday, The wound was bubbling when I exhaled. Major Culver told us in ROTC about sucking chest wounds in first aid training, fuckitude in the higest order.
I come out of the bathroom and tell her this is serious. I needed the phone or I'd die. Mistake. All hell breaks loose. I used to own a police nightstick and she had it when I made my anouncment of wanting to live....She started to whack the shit out of me with all the gusto that a tweekd out meth monster could muster. As I retreat to the back bedroom, coughing blood and smarting from repeated blows to the head, I asses my situation.....
1. I have a sucking chest wound. Fatal without treatment.
2. I need a telephone and psycho girl has it.
3. Said psycho girl is pounding a hole in the door with my nightstick.
Things are not looking up.
She beats a hole through the door and starts poking me in the face with the nightstick and I snap. I whip open the door and glare. I wish I could reproduce the look I gave her. Stopped her psycho ass in her tracks. She dropped the nightstick and ran. I caught her in the neighbors yard and beat her. I have barely a recolection of this, I do remember blood flying from my fist and I stopped because I still need a phone, hell, we lived seven miles from town and my lungs were in the process of collapsing.
In the end, she escaped, I was choking on my own blood and you ain't gonna catch a tweeker. They run quick.I put on some Black Sabbath (sabotauge) and lie down by the baseboard heater to die......
Seven hours later........
A cop comes in, lifts me up, and starts pounding the shit out of my head aginst the wall. One might think this would piss me off, but the first thing that went through my head was "Wow! A sunrise!" I thought I was dead meat. Bonus morning! After a hefty pounding, a lady copp says "Bill, I think he's injured. Quit beating him." Turns out out while he was beating my skull upon the wall, blood was spattering him from my stab wounds. He tried, after the fact to address my wounds but the EMT's got there first and I'm out at this juncture. Gotta love pain killers.
Left lung collapsed and the right one was going. In ICU I was still cuffed to the bed and went straight to jail for two days after I was stabilized.
More to this tale, but I shan't fortitude to write it, perhaps later.
This is for you Creepy Uncle, I dug down in the repressed shit, just for you. Your sister had better have a very nice gourd.
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My ex is moving back to California. And taking the kids with her. I'm devistated. I agree with her reasons, her family lives there as do all her friends... Who am I to deny her side of the clan to not get to get to know them? I feel I should be angry and fight it but , honestly, after the events of the last year and a half, I find myself emotionally dead inside and I've lost my will to fight. I'm gonna worry to no end and if something happens, I can't do fuck all about it.....
Kellie's a good mom and I hope she finds what she needs. I wasn't it, other than sperm to make our kids........ I guess just wish her and Annika and Aydin well in the scumpit of California.
I'm gonna miss you my kids.....*sniffle*
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