My biological family was like a rash that wouldn’t go away no matter what was done. My father, my uncles, they were pieces of shit and people knew it. Even my extended family knew it, but they were still willing to come after me, even following the verdict. The next two people to come after me were my aunts, of all people. Women that had been abused, mind you, were willing to take Amy and I to court to. get this, take our kids away from us. Since Amy had no family to fall back on, and I didn’t give two shits about my own any longer, we were on our own save for our friends, who were willing to go to hell and back for us, God bless them.
And we did go to hell, even if that hell was another courtroom. This vision cycles between various scenes though, one of the worst being at our home, where my Aunt Katherine, a beaten woman that had somehow been empowered by the death of her husband, decided to take the law into her own hands one day. I’d been at work that day when Amy had called my job, speaking frantically that my three aunts had been there, and that they were trying to get into the house. I’d told her to call the cops and barricade herself and the kids in our bedroom, but it’d been just a bit too late.
Aunt Katherine had found a way in through the back door, jimmying the lock somehow as she’d come surging in, screaming about how our kids were her right, that they were blood, and they were better off with her and their other great aunts. She’d almost managed to snag one of our kids when things turned sour very quickly. From what I was told, Katherine grabbed one of the twins and was about ready to fun out of the door with our eldest girl (we’d had three other kids at this point, all of them adorable and the loves of our life) when Amy had gone berserk.
Todd and Jane Gimley, our next door neighbors, had heard the commotion and come running, only to find Amy surrounded by my three aunts. For women in their 50s they’d been ready to throw down apparently. But once Katherine had been confronted by Amy, the other two had lost all their fire, as my wife went feral according to the Gimley’s, who had no reason to lie to me. But I saw the truth of it anyway, since when I arrived to find my other two aunts screaming and crying to the cops, and Amy in the back of a police car, I’d seen what was left of Katherine, and to be completely honest, I was proud of my wife at that moment. When I’d heard the whole story, I was even prouder, and immediately sorry that I wasn’t there. I left work that day as quickly as I could, risking my job in the process, which I don’t regret. But when I arrived home I felt like such a heel, despite the fact that Amy stood up and did what she needed to do.
It took a while for Amy to recover from paralyzing Katherine, as she’d landed on the older woman hard enough, and at such an odd angle, that her spine had fractured, and she’d been paralyzed from the waist down. Amy hadn’t stopped there however, as she’d rained down an ungodly number of blows upon Katherine, leaving her nearly blind in one eye and with a nose that would never set correctly.
Was I still proud of her? You’re damned right I was, but I was still sorry that I hadn’t been there. The toll this took on Amy was immense, and it took years for her to come to terms with it. I wouldn’t have wished that on anyone.
Time for another positive moment, yeah? God, I hope so.
(to be continued)