inmemoryof
06-03-2008, 11:21 PM
Hello,
I am very new at this...I only found this site tonight. I have limited experience with the prison system. I met my biological dad for the first time (I was 17), while he was in prison. I was a visitor twice before he was released.
But the experience that brought me here tonight is a different one altogether. I have a best friend who was my sister since I was seven. We grew up together, spent every weekend at each others' house, and then rented homes just a block apart in college. We saw each other every day. One night five years ago, I made some fried green tomatoes and wanted to share. I knocked on her door with the rubbermaid and walked into what felt like an "uncomfortable moment" between her and her boyfriend, recently become ex-boyfriend. He was having a hard time over the break-up. My husband and I were dating then, and we had known him for years. He worked with my husband for six years. We all went to concerts together. Hung out. I stayed for a short bit, we all chatted, and I said goodbye. Strangely, my best friend got up and hugged me tightly and said "I love you". That was the last time I ever saw her. He tortured her to death that night and all the next day and into the next night. Her parents found her mutilated remains. Blood in every room.
My husband had to leave that week (army), and we found out days later I was pregnant. I had to look at crime scene photos to identify things. They waited to show them to me, because the pictures were so graphic they thought I would miscarry. I had another child to take care of. My son is Autistic, and I had to hold it together for him. He still doesn't understand her death. He just knows it changed me forever.
I lost a part of myself. She is still with me, and part of her is my daughter, her namesake. Her attacker is serving an 80 year sentence at East AR Max. I will never understand what happened. I knew him. We had lunch together all the time. Between the four of us, she and my husband had much in common (quiet, practical), and he and I were the loud, boisterous ones. I left him with my son once while she and I went to the store. That thought gives me shudders. I invited him into my home. I introduced her to him. I camped with him, went to concerts with him, knew him for years. I saw what he did to her. Details that I would share so you would understand, except that I respect her mother's desire for privacy.
I have toyed with the idea of trying to visit. Not that I would believe anything he says. I have no idea what he really is. I don't even know why I would visit. I have so much anger and hate. When I read some of these stories, these people who are your loved ones don't seem like the monster I now know that he is. I have to admit I hope the worst for him, no matter how self destructive that may be. I will never recover. Year after year, it doesn't get better. I am fixated on shows that feature insides of prisons, people who have experience. I don't know what I hope to gain from this forum, but I am here. Maybe something, maybe nothing. Either way, it can't be worse than losing her or the nightmares that have followed every night since.
In memory of her
I am very new at this...I only found this site tonight. I have limited experience with the prison system. I met my biological dad for the first time (I was 17), while he was in prison. I was a visitor twice before he was released.
But the experience that brought me here tonight is a different one altogether. I have a best friend who was my sister since I was seven. We grew up together, spent every weekend at each others' house, and then rented homes just a block apart in college. We saw each other every day. One night five years ago, I made some fried green tomatoes and wanted to share. I knocked on her door with the rubbermaid and walked into what felt like an "uncomfortable moment" between her and her boyfriend, recently become ex-boyfriend. He was having a hard time over the break-up. My husband and I were dating then, and we had known him for years. He worked with my husband for six years. We all went to concerts together. Hung out. I stayed for a short bit, we all chatted, and I said goodbye. Strangely, my best friend got up and hugged me tightly and said "I love you". That was the last time I ever saw her. He tortured her to death that night and all the next day and into the next night. Her parents found her mutilated remains. Blood in every room.
My husband had to leave that week (army), and we found out days later I was pregnant. I had to look at crime scene photos to identify things. They waited to show them to me, because the pictures were so graphic they thought I would miscarry. I had another child to take care of. My son is Autistic, and I had to hold it together for him. He still doesn't understand her death. He just knows it changed me forever.
I lost a part of myself. She is still with me, and part of her is my daughter, her namesake. Her attacker is serving an 80 year sentence at East AR Max. I will never understand what happened. I knew him. We had lunch together all the time. Between the four of us, she and my husband had much in common (quiet, practical), and he and I were the loud, boisterous ones. I left him with my son once while she and I went to the store. That thought gives me shudders. I invited him into my home. I introduced her to him. I camped with him, went to concerts with him, knew him for years. I saw what he did to her. Details that I would share so you would understand, except that I respect her mother's desire for privacy.
I have toyed with the idea of trying to visit. Not that I would believe anything he says. I have no idea what he really is. I don't even know why I would visit. I have so much anger and hate. When I read some of these stories, these people who are your loved ones don't seem like the monster I now know that he is. I have to admit I hope the worst for him, no matter how self destructive that may be. I will never recover. Year after year, it doesn't get better. I am fixated on shows that feature insides of prisons, people who have experience. I don't know what I hope to gain from this forum, but I am here. Maybe something, maybe nothing. Either way, it can't be worse than losing her or the nightmares that have followed every night since.
In memory of her