When I was 8 years old, my father decided that it was time to amp up his drinking rage and beat the living hell out of my mother… again.
As this was customary, I usually hid in the basement with my little sister until the morning, but we had just had an assembly in school about how to use 911 for help if anything bad was happening.
I dialed 911, I dont remember speaking to anyone, but I left the phone off the hook and then tried to stand in front of my mother.
I went through a wall right after she did.
A short time later two cops busted through the door… probably after seeing my mother and I on the ground and my father screaming, and I remember my father squaring up with the cops, and I remember my father leaving in the squad car as the ambulance came for us.
I remember the cop came to the hospital, did his report thing, gave my sister a teddy bear and that was it.