My mom saved a man that had a hand in my father’s death.
No Seriously.
When I was 8 years old, my father was murdered. Because of the life he lived it wasn’t much of a shock, but it was still traumatizing none the less. I grew up in the projects so I knew of dangers that no child should. And knowing of those dangers, I was always on edge about whether or not my father would make it to see another year.
One night my mother, sisters, and I were “camping” in the living room. It was something we did regularly because us kids thought it was cool. My mom woke up because she heard noises outside. We had cats then and my mom thought someone was trying to hurt our cat.
I watched my mother, in just a T-shirt and underwear, start to unlock the door. She began to say, “Leave my cat…” and before she could finish, someone tugged on the doorknob. She screamed and used all her strength to try and shut the door. I froze in fear. Who was trying to get in? It went from me being afraid for our cat to me being afraid for us.
My mother kept shouting, “no, no, NO!” It felt like an eternity but I’m sure it was just a few seconds. Then woosh! The door flew open and a man I’ve never seen in my life came inside our home a shut the door.
My mother was scared, I could see it on her face. It was a look I’ve never seen her…
