I Lost Everything On My Eighteenth Birthday

 I Lost Everything On My 18th Birthday

WARNING: ​​​​​​Contains Strong Language, Strong Grisly Violence, and Rape. Not reccommeded for viewers under 18

I'm not sure where or how to begin, so I'll just give a bit of context about myself before telling my story. My name's Todd Summers, and I'm a twenty-nine year old male living in a small apartment complex in the state of Oregon. My life, or what I can only describe to be a miserable existence, isn't pleasant or peaceful. It hasn't been since the day of my eighteenth birthday in the year of 2008, the year that I lost everything, and on what was supposed to be the most special day of my life. Why's my life miserable you might be asking? Well, it's a very long and pitiful story. It's not a story I've shared with many people due to how traumatized I get just even remembering the events of that one year, but I feel as though I need to tell someone about it before I completely lose what sanity I have left and go completely bananas.

When I was kid, roughly between age 4-15, I lived in New Mexico with my mom, my 5 year old sister Shannon, and my dirtbag father in a one story house in a quiet neighborhood. My mom worked as a cashier at CVS at the time and my dad worked as a professional landscaper. My mom was very kind towards me and Shannon while we were growing up, but my dad was a totally different story. I'll explain a bit about him first. My dad always seemed like a casual guy in public, but in reality, he was possibly the worst type of scumbag that you could ever come across. He was an alcoholic and a complete abusive sack of horse shit when not on the job or in public. In edition to all of that, he also had the temper of an enraged gorilla. Ever since I can remember, he'd abuse us in the most horrible ways you can imagine. He beat us with a razor wired riding crop whenever we got on his nerves or did something he didn't like, locked us in the basement, deprived us of food, and did some other things that were so horrid that I don't even want to mention it; I have many scars because of this. My Mom was also a victim of his abuse and would constantly be berated, slapped, assaulted, and beaten by Dad if she tried to stand up to him or defend us. Because of the constant abuse my dad put her through, she easily give in to his will and didn't try to stand up for herself, and I couldn't blame her for that. My sister Shannon was like my mother, a kind hearted girl who would always try to stand up for me when I was in trouble, but she was also timid like Mom was since she also suffered heavy abuse from our father and was too afraid to try and stand up to him. Now that I've mentioned a bit about my family, I should mention everything that happened a year prior to my eighteen birthday before I continue with the story so you get a better understanding of things.

My dad never allowed Mom to let me or Shannon have birthdays in "his" house as he puts it because he always said to that we were mistakes that God put on the planet and that mistakes don't need it deserve birthdays. Because of this, none of us were able to have a real birthday since he was usually home on all my previous birthdays and would make sure that Mom didn't try throwing any parties behind his back. If she argued about it with him or so much as even mentioned our birthdays around him, dad would beat her with his razor wired riding crop until she bled in some areas; she had a lot of scars on her body because of his previous beatings, and so did Shannon and I. Also about two years prior to my eighteen birthday, my dad had gotten fired from his construction job for reasons I didn't know. Now this may sound very hard to believe when I tell you this, but I assure you that it's true. My mom never found out that my dad was fired because of two things: One, he never told her. And two, he lied to my mom and said that he'd been promoted and would be starting at his new job location as the assistant manager, but it be a few months or so before he started.

How do I know he was fired? Because the year he was fired, I heard him from my room having a shouting match over the phone in the living room with supposedly his boss about how he never liked the job anyway and that his bosses whole company was just a giant pile of dog shit that deserves to be burned to the ground. I remember feeling my blood turn to ice when I overheard him threaten his boss by saying that if he even so much as thought about telling the police about what he found, he'd have his new friend, some guy by the name of Mr. Victor Vasquez, silence him and his family. I didn't know who this Vasquez guy was, and I honestly wasn't sure I wanted to find out. By some stroke of bad luck, my dad had noticed me overhearing his argument and warned me that if I spoke a word of this to my mom, he'd chain me and Shannon up in the basement and beat us with a crowbar until our skulls bled out. Terrified, I never said a word to my mom about it, though I probably should have.

My mom's job luckily provided her enough money to keep the house running, but the next several weeks were after that phone call, things didn't get any better. I honestly don't know why she didn't divorce my dad after all the shit he put us through all these years. I even questioned Mom as to why we couldn't do just that many times before, but she said that it was because his job made more money than hers did, and she wouldn't be able to afford keeping the house if she filed for divorce. Once Dad started going to work at this new site a four months later, my mom began to grow suspicious when she noticed a few things. The first thing she noticed was that my dad started hanging out with these mean looking Mexican guys who he said were part of his new construction crew over to our house to chat and get drunk on our front yard, but my mom had doubts about that being true. These men were about as cruel and heartless as my dad, if not worse. My mom got very bad vibes from these men due to the way they acted.

They would make very rude and offensive comments about my mom, Shannon and I, some of the comments were even racist. If my mom told them to stop or tried to get them to leave, they'd get hostile and threaten to tie her up and then beat her if she didn't show them respect. My dad actually shared that opinion and told my mom that unless she wanted to be sodomized by his friends, she'd better show some respect to his friends.

He'd say things like, "You better do as my boys say and show them some respect unless you want to get hurt! They work very hard to provide us protection, and no one shows any disrespect towards them!".

Also, the one thing she noticed was how much money he had started making. Each friday, Dad would receive paychecks of up to about fifty to sixty thousand dollars, which was far higher than the amount of money he used to paid on his previous work location. My dad's job paid him about twenty-five dollars an hour, so there's no way that he'd be making that much money in just two weeks. When my Mom questioned him about why his pay rate was so incredibly high all of a sudden one Friday night when me and Shannon were eating dinner in the living room, he lied and said that it was because he was working for a very wealthy contractor who paid him extra for overtime.

She didn't believe him and demanded to know just where he was working and what this new job involved, but my dad got aggressive and said, "It's none of your fucking busniess, bitch!".

My mom than said, "None of my business?! It is too my business! I live here too and this house is also mine, so I have every damn right to know!".

In response to this, my dad slapped her and shouted, "Who the fuck do you think you are talking back to me like that, you motherfucking bitch?! It's my money, not yours!".

His yelling caught my attention and I ran over to the entrance to the dining room where I saw Dad yelling in her face.

"This is my house, MY HOUSE, YOU FUCKING TWAT! I OWN YOU, AND THOSE TWO LITTLE FAGGOTS THAT I TOLD YOU TO ABORT YEARS AGO. I MADE IT CLEAR THAT I WANTED THEM GONE, BUT NO! NOOOOO!!!!!! YOU JUST HAD TO HAVE FUCKING KIDS, DIDN'T YOU! WE'D HAVE MORE MONEY IF WE'D JUST GOTTEN RID OF THOSE GOD DAMN MISTAKES" Dad thundered.

My Mom then did something I had never seen her do. She shoved him back and then yelled back, "You know what?! I've had it with your threats and your shit! I want a divorce, and I want it now! If you hate us so damn bad, we'll just leave! You've been nothing but a no good fucking piece of shit ever since the kids were born, and I've had enough! And if you ever hurt the kids again, I tell the police everything you've done to us all these years!".

What my dad did next still gives me nightmares to this day. He grabbed by mom by the neck, pinned her against the wall, and pulled out a gun from his pocket and pressed it to my mom's head.

"YOU LISTEN TO ME AND YOU LISTEN RIGHT NOW, YOU GOD FUCKING DAMN BITCH! YOUR NOT GOING ANYWHERE UNLESS I SAY SO, AND NEITHER ARE THOSE TWO LITTLE FUCKERS! AND IF YOU EVER, AND MEAN EVER BACKTALK ME AGAIN OR TRY GOING TO THE COPS, I SWEAR TO GOD AND SATAN I'LL TAKE A GOD DAMN CHAINSAW TO YOUR LIMBS. THEN I'LL BRING MY BOYS OVER HERE AND HAVE THEM SKULL FUCK YOU AND THOSE TWO LITTLE FAGGOTS, YOU GOT THAT?!" my dad roared. My mom was visibly terrified, and so were me and Shannon. Up till now, the worst Dad had ever done to us was beat us, but now he had totally taken the abuse to a whole new level.

When my mom only whimpered in fear, my dad fired a shot between her feet, then shouted, "I ASKED YOU A GOD DAMN QUESTION, AND I WANT A GOD DAMN ANSWER RIGHT NOW! ANSWER ME, OR I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU AND THOSE FUCKING BRATS!".

My Mom whimpered in both pain and fear, then nodded, but my dad fired another shot and yelled, "I WANT A VERBAL ANSWER, NOT A NOD! WHEN I ASK YOU A QUESTION, YOU ANSWER YES OR NO! NOW ANSWER ME PROPERLY, GOD FUCKING DAMN YOU!".

Now almost sobbing, Mom stuttered, "Y-yes".

I then saw my dad snarl and then he threw my mom down to the floor, spat in her face, then said, "You better learn your place, bitch! This is MY house! You have no control unless I say so! Consider yourself and those faggots nothing more than slaves! A bunch of pigs meant to serve me! I'm going out now, and I'd better see my dinner ready by the time I get back, slave! If it's not, I'll have my boys come down here and butt rape you! Oh, and they have STD's, so you pray they use protection if I have to bring them down here!".

He then stormed out of the house and went to god knows where; probably off to a bar to get drunk. After Dad was gone, we rushed over to confront our mom who was in tears, and we began crying as well. We had all pretty much been through quite enough with that bastard, and that's when my mom did something she should have done a long time ago. She called the police and told them that we needed them down at our house right away. Once they arrived, all three of us gave the officers out reports on what happened. We also told them about how abusive he had been towards us for the past ten years and even showed them the scars on our backs from when he had whipped us with his riding crop. When the two officers saw this, they asked mom where my dad was now and she said that she had no idea. Me and Shannon told them that he simply stormed out of the house and left in his truck. We gave them a description of the truck, which was a black 2001 Toyota Tundra, and also gave them the license plate. About an hour later, the police called us and informed my mom that Dad was now in police custody, and he now had additional criminal charges.

Apparently, the cops found my dad hanging out behind a strip club with those dirty Mexican friends of his drinking beer and smoking crystal meth. When they approached him and attempted to place him under arrest for attempted assault with a deadly weapon, he of course resisted and did the most foolish thing anyone could do. Dad drew out his gun and opened fire on the officers, hitting one officer in the leg and the other one in his left arm, then he took off in his truck and fled the scene. His friends took off running into the strip club where they were later caught and arrested for illegal drug possession. My dad was eventually stopped by the police when they cut him off at a railway crossing where a long freight train was stopped on the tracks by blocking off the two line road with their patrol cars. When he attempted to open fire on the cops, an officer tazed him with a tazer gun and took him into custody. When they searched his truck for any other potential weapons, they found a small unlocked safe under the back seats which contained tons and tons of illegal drugs, ranging from marijuana, to crystal meth, and LSD. But what they found with the drugs was something that answered the question that Mom had questioned my dad about: it was a list of drugs and how many had been sold. As it turned out, my dad had working for a Mexican drug cartel for about four months in total.

Remember those men dad was hanging out with, and remember the name Victor Vasquez? Turns out, Mr. Vasquez was the boss of an extremely dangerous and savage Mexican drug cartel, and those Mexican guys my dad hung out with and invited over to our house were members of the cartel. When the police told us all this, I remembered that threatening warning my dad had given to his old construction job boss over the phone about killing him if he reported him to the cops. I understood now what must have happened, but the police apparently had already found out and told us everything. Sure enough, my guess was right. The police informed my mom over the phone that when they had contacted his old boss and questioned him about my dad, they were told that he had fired my dad for hiding drugs in his locker, but he was too afraid to go to the police because he said that Dad was friends with a dangerous Mexican drug cartel boss and was afraid that if he went to the cops, the cartel would come after him and his family and kill them.

We were all horrified and disgusted when the police told us all this, but we were so relieved to hear that he was in custody along with his filthy drug cartel buddies. Me, Mom, and Shannon all appeared in court a few days later and gave our testimonies to the judge and my dad was later found guilty of abuse, physical assault, assault with a deadly weapon, attempted murder of a police officer, and drug trafficking, and sentenced to thirty to fifty years in prison without bail or parole. I'll never forget what my dad said as the cops dragged him away to begin serving his sentence in prison.

He yelled, "You better pray, bitch! You better pray to God that I never get out! Because when I do, your fucking dead! All of you! MOTHERFUCKING DEAD!".

His voice was silenced once the doors of the courtroom slammed shut behind him. I knew that Dad would never get his hands on us since he'd pretty much be locked up for the rest of his life. He was in his late fifties, and his sentence was thirty to fifty years, meaning he'd either be in his nineties or early hundreds when released. Most likely, he'd be dead before than, so it didn't matter. I never heard about what happened to those other cartel friends of his, but I assumed that they ended up getting locked up as well. After that event, our lives got so much better over the next several months. My mom got promoted to being the manager of the CVS pharmacy around October and also got an increase in salary, and she started dating a 49 year old retired navy veteran named George around November. He was the nicest man my mom had ever met and treats her like a queen, and he also loved me and Shannon. The two of them eventually married in December and George became my stepdad. Me and Shannon even started making a few friends in school. Because of our real father, we had not been able to socialize very well due to all the heavy abuse we had to endure from him, but that wasn't a problem anymore. With Dad gone from the house, we were free to do what we wanted without him controlling our lives. I began to pursue a dream I'd had since I was a kid, and that was becoming a comic book artist. I enrolled in various art classes in school and Shannon planned to one day become a professional photographer as she loved photography. Life seemed perfect now, but unfortunately, I'm sorry to say that the story doesn't end here.

Two years later on the night before of my eighteenth birthday in April of 2008 which was a friday, I was awakened around 3:00 AM by a loud clanking sound coming from outside the house next to my bedroom window. I was still half asleep, so I assumed that maybe I imagined it or just dreamed it, so I shook it off thinking it might have been a raccoon or a possum making the noise and went back to sleep. In hindsight, I probably should have checked it out or told my mom about it, otherwise I might have been able to prevent the horrible events that would transpire the next day. You'll soon learn why this is important. Anyways, my mom and stepdad woke me up around 9:00 AM for a special birthday breakfast in the dining room. When I entered the dining room, I was greeted by Shannon who had served me a large dish of bacon and eggs, sausages, and waffles. Shortly after finishing breakfast, I invited my two new friends named Rex and Layla over to celebrate my birthday. We played our two favorite games, Mario Party and F-Zero GX on our Nintendo Gamecube and watched a few movies as a whole family. Around the afternoon time, we all gathered in the dining room and my mom brought in my presents and my pink strawberry flavored birthday cake with eighteen candles on it.

There were six presents in total, along with a present I had always wanted. This present was an electric scooter, and it had a red bow wrapped around the handlebars. I embraced my mom and thanked her for the present, feeling like the happiest person alive. As my mom prepared to light the candles, we all heard a knock at the front door, which surprised us. We weren't expecting anyone else, so we all wondered who was at the door. I went over to the front door and checked through the peephole, expecting it to maybe be Rex and Layla's parents, but it wasn't them. When I saw who was at the door, I shit you not, I almost soiled myself. Any joy or excitement that I had was now gone, replaced by blind terror and fear. Standing right there at the door... was my dad dressed in all black and armed with an assault rifle and hand grenades, and he wasn't alone. There were several other guys standing behind him wearing black jumpsuits and ski masks, and they were all wielding military grade machine guns and wore belts containing hand grenades. A million questions were rushing through my mind at speeds faster than I could comprehend. How the hell did dad get out of prison? How were we not notified or warned about it? It didn't really make a difference as to how or why he got out. The fact was that he was out, and he was here to probably kill us. I immediately rushed back into the dining room in full panic mode and told my mom that we needed to call the police right away. When she asked me why, I told her that Dad was at the front door with several heavily armed men standing behind him. The color drained from my mom's face when I told her this and my friends and sister began to panic as well.

"No! That's impossible! He's in prison! How could he be here?!" Shannon protested fearfully.

My Mom rushed to the door and looked through the peephole, and I shit you not, she actually wet herself. She then ran back into the dining room and told George what she saw outside. He immediately feared for our safety and told us that we'd better call the cops right away like I suggested. Just as mom rushed for the phone to call the police, we all heard rapid banging at the front door and then we heard my dad shouting at us to open up, or he'd have his men open for us.

"Open the fucking door, bitch! I know you and those fucking faggots are here! Your gonna pay for locking us up!" My dad shouted.

George ran to his room and retrieved his revolver with spare ammo clips as mom told me and Shannon to hide in laundry room connected to the kitchen. I knew that my stepdad wouldn't be able to hold these men off, even if he was ex-military. Although he had military experience and training, he was outnumbered and outweaponed, so there'd be no way of holding off these thugs if they broke in. Layla and Rex hid in the laundry room with us and we closed and locked the door as George rushed back in the kitchen with his gun. I couldn't see what was going on our there since the door was closed, but I could hear Mom and George speaking and my dad banging on the front door.

"What the hell are you doing?! Call the damn cops already!" George snapped as the banging got more aggressive.

I heard my Mom say in a horrified voice, "I... I can't! The phone's not working!".

The four of us felt our blood run cold when we heard her say that, then I heard George say in a now horrified tone, "Shit! Those bastards must have cut the phone lines. That's the only thing I can think of. We'd better use our cell phones instead and hide with the kids".

I heard my Mom suggest we try running out the back door and escape through the backyard, but George said no. He wasn't sure if there were any armed men out there in the backyard, and if there we any there, they'd kill us the moment we stepped outside. Mom and George joined us in the small room and Mom told me to use our cell phones to call 911. My phone was dead, but Shannons was fully charged, so she tried calling the police. However, real terror started to set in when Shannon reported that her cell phone wasn't getting a signal. She said that her phone was telling her that it was experiencing signal failure and couldn't connect to the phone network. When Rex and Layla checked their cell phones, they got the same results, and so did Mom and George's cell phones.

"N-no," Shannon stuttered in horror. "Why aren't our cell phones working? They're wireless".

George said that those men must have done something to jam our cell phones; it was no coincidence. At this point, all of us began to panic when we realized the magnitude of the situation. My criminal father and presumably the Mexican mafia were outside the door heavily armed with military grade weapons, and all the phones were dead along with our cell phones. We began to accept the fact that we'd probably die without mercy. There's no way that George could take on thirteen men armed with machine guns and grenades, even if he was ex-military. He'd be gunned down before he had a chance to fire his own gun.

"M-mom, what'll we do?" I asked fearfully.

Mom had no answer, but George spoke up and told us that he'd try to hold off my dad and his goons long enough for us to escape, even if it meant he was killed in the process. My Mom absolutely declined and told him that he shouldn't try to dash off like some hero and possibly lose his life, but George told us that he wasn't going to argue and told us to head for the back door the moment he gave the signal. But before George could even open the door, we all heard a deafening explosion that shook the house. George threw open the door and pulled out his gun as we heard footsteps entering the house. He then opened fire on the masked men and yelled at us to run as the men began firing their machine guns in George's direction. Mom told us to follow her towards the backyard door, but before we could make it to the dining room, a grenade flew into the kitchen and landed in the sink where it exploded. The force of the explosion threw all of us across the room and I ended up hitting my head on the refrigerator so hard that I was knocked out cold. Now before I continue, I need to warn each and everyone of you that the story gets extremely graphic and disturbing from this point on. It traumatizes and disgusts me to just recall or relive the events that transpired next, but I need to get it off my chest and put it behind me once and for all.

When I awoke from being unconscious, I found myself tied to a chair and appeared to have been moved to a corner of the kitchen right next to the living room entrance, but that wasn't all I saw. The entire front entrance way of the house along with the door had been blown to pieces, and to my horror, I saw my stepdad laying dead in the floor in a pool of blood with multiple bullet holes in his back and one through his head. I also saw two of the masked men laying on the floor dead with gunshot wounds as well, most likely killed by my stepdad before meeting his end. I turned my head to face the living room, and saw something above the now busted TV that nearly made me vomit. My two best friends, Rex and Layla had both been nailed to the wall by their hands and feet, stripped naked, and had been sliced open from the lower jaw down to their waists. Their eyes had been ripped out of their sockets along with their internal organs which were spilled out all over the floor, and their faces bore expressions of pure terror and agony. I then heard screaming coming from the basement along with what sounded like a gunshot, then I heard angry yelling coming from downstairs.

"SHUT UP RIGHT FUCKING NOW, BITCH, OR YOU'LL END UP LIKE THOSE OTHER TWO FAGGOTS UP THERE!" a man's voice shouted.

It wasn't my dad who was shouting, so I assumed it must have been one of the remaining thugs that survived. I looked around, expecting to see another armed thug watching me, but I was alone. This confused me more than ever. I had no idea why they'd leave me alone without someone guarding me to make sure I didn't escape, but it made little difference to me at the time. My hands had been tied with large bungee cords behind a wooden kitchen chair, but they weren't tied that tight, so I struggled to try and free myself as quietly as I could without alerting my dad and his men down in the basement. The open basement door was right next to the door leading into the laundry room, and I was only about five feet away from it, so I knew I'd better be quiet. If dad or one of those thugs heard me trying to esvape, they'd most likely kill me. Now that I think about it, they were probably going to kill me anyway once they were done doing whatever they were doing to my mom and Shannon, which was why they left me in the kitchen. They were most likely saving me for last. As I slowly started fiddling with the bonds on my hands, I heard more commotion going on down in the basement.

I heard one of the men yell at Shannon, "SUCK MY COCK LIKE YOU MEAN IT, GOD FUCKING DAMN YOU!".

"You better do as he says, bitch! My brother doesn't like be kept waiting, and he's got a very bad temper!" another thug warned coldly.

As I got one cord off my hands and started to free my hands from the rest of the bungee cords, I heard my dad say to my Mom, "You better swallow every last drop when I blow my load! If you let so much as one drop fall out of your mouth, I'll have my men skull fuck that little twat, and then I'll chainsaw the both of you into pieces!".

I didn't have to guess what was going on down there when I heard dad say that, and I felt my spine shiver when I realized that Mom and Shannon were being raped and sodomized by those men, which made me even more determined to escape.

As I worked more quickly to get out of the remaining restraints, I heard my dad yell out in rage, "I ROTTED IN THAT FUCKING HELL HOLE PRISON FOR TWO MOTHERFUCKING YEARS BECAUSE OF YOU FUCKING SLAVES! THOSE FUCKING CORRUPT PRISON GUARDS BEAT ME, BUTT RAPED ME, AND TORTURED ME FOR THE FUN OF IT! YOU SENT ME TO HELL! AND NOW YOUR GOING TO ALL PAY! AND I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU THAT THOSE FAGGOTS DON'T DERSERVE BIRTHDAY'S! THIS... IS... MY... FUCKING... HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!".

Suddenly, I heard my Mom yell, "FUCK YOU, YOU SEED OF SATAN!".

I then heard my dad yell, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! YOU GOD FUCKING DAMN BITCH!".

I panicked and began to work faster as I heard one of the men yell, "YOU FUCKING TWAT! WHO THE FUCK TOLD YOU TO STOP?!".

My dad then yelled, "YOU JUST SIGNED YOUR FUCKING DEATH WARRANTS, YOU CUM DUMPSTER PIG SLAVE! AS SOON AS I'M DONE WITH YOU TWO, THAT OTHER FUCKING FAGGOT UP THERE IS COMING WITH US, AND HE'LL SERVE AS OUR BOSSES REPLACEMENT CUM DUMPSTER SISSY BOY!".

I then heard Shannon begging for mercy, then the sound of her being struck with something. I started sweating and cursing softly under my breath as I desperately fumbled through the last of the bungee cords, feeling tears running down my face as I heard my dad yelling more obscenities at my mom and Shannon. Just as I freed myself from my restraints, I heard my dad order his men to restrain my Mom and Shannon, then I heard them start begging for their lives. I slowly stood up from the chair and looked over to the dead thugs on the floor near the entrance way and noticed that their weapons and grenade belts were still there laying in the floor next to them, then I looked over at the basement door. I quietly crept over to the destroyed entry way of the house and picked up one of the machine guns for defense, then I looked down at one of the grenades and weighed my options. I could try chucking a grenade into the basement and blowing those bastards to pieces, but I knew that wouldn't be a wise choice. If I used a grenade, I'd blow up the whole basement and probably end up killing Mom and Shannon in the process. The only other way of taking those men out would be to use the machine gun, but that was also a bad idea. The basement was small, and if I started shooting down into there, I might end up hitting Mom or Shannon. Also, I was outnumbered and outgunned, so I didn't stand a chance. The only option would be to run, but I really didn't want to leave my mother and Shannon behind with those monsters. However, I knew that I didn't have much of a choice, so I made the decision to escape through the backdoor while avoiding any possible thugs that might be outside guarding the area, then get as far away as possible and safely to a neighbors house to call the police.

As I took one of the grenade belts containing five grenades along with two spare ammo clips and strapped it around my waist, I heard the most horrible sound imaginable. I heard the sound of a chainsaw being revved up along with my mom's screams of agony and Shannons wails of horror.

Over the roar of the chainsaw engine, I heard my dad yell in both rage and sadistic delight, "YES, YEESSS! NO ONES COMING TO SAVE YOU! YOUR DEAD... DEAD... DEAD! DIE... DIE... DIE!!!!!!!!!!!".

I knew what was happening, and I felt so helpless knowing that I could nothing but run. As I ran through the living room and into the dining room to get to the back door, my heart dropped at the sight I was greeted with. The dining room table had been knocked over, my birthday cake splattered on the floor, and all of my presents had been smashed and destroyed, including my new scooter. It was broken into pieces and several wires could be seen protruding from the motor. There was also a message written on the wall in Rex and Layla's blood which read, "MISTAKES DON'T DESERVE BIRTHDAYS!". I couldn't believe what I was seeing, nor could I believe what was going on. One moment, I'm the happiest person in the world with a loving family and having the best birthday ever, next these armed murderers lead by my evil father ruin it by breaking in and murdering my stepfather and two best friends. And now my sister and mother are most likely being murdered as well, and I can't do anything about it. All I could do was run, and run I did. I slowly opened the door leading into the backyard, holding the machine gun tightly in my hands and checking my surroundings. The sun was starting to set as I slowly made my way across the small yard and over toward the talk wooden fence near the end which lead into my neighbour, Ms. Westwoods yard. From there, I'd cross through her yard and try to call the cops from her home once I explained the situation to her. That thought made me wonder if anyone had called the cops at some point since my house was invaded. Surely someone must have heard the explosions and gunshots and called the police by now. So why hadn't they shown up yet?

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a man shout, "Hey, who the fuck are you?!".

I turned my head and saw two masked thugs standing near the shed next to the house with machine guns in their hands. I didn't even hesitate and immediately opened fire on the two thugs with my machine gun before they could fully raise their own weapons, hitting them both in the chest and face. As soon as they were dead, I quickly started running towards the fence, knowing that my dad and his other men probably heard the gunshots and would come running outside to investigate. As I started climbing the fence, I dropped the machine gun into the other yard just as I heard my dad yell, "Hey, what's going on over there?!".

I scrambled like mad to get on the other side of the fence and managed to successfully make it into Ms. Westwoods yard as I heard my dad order one of his men to go see was all the commotion was about. Once I got back on my feet, I retrieved the machine gun and took off running across the huge yard, but I hid behind a large doghouse as I saw the fence wiggling. As I stayed hidden, I saw one of dad's masked henchmen poke his head out the top of the fence and scan the area. Once he was convinced I wasn't there, he returned to my yard and I heard him run back towards my house, shouting something to my dad.

I then heard my dad yell from all the way in my house, "THAT LITTLE FAGGOT EACAPED AND KILLED TWO OF OUR MEN?! YOU FUCKING FOOL! GET YOUR FUCKING ASSES OUT THERE AND FIND THAT DAMN RAT! IF HE GETS FAR ENOUGH AWAY, HE'LL HAVE THE DAMN COPS DOWN HERE IN MINUTES! I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU DO OR USE, BUT FIND HIM, AND I WANT HIM ALIVE!".

I decided at this point, going to Ms. Westwood for help wouldn't be a wide choice. If dad and his goons decided to come onto her property to search for me, I'd be putting Ms. Westwood in terrible danger, which was the last thing I wanted. So I decided to head further away from my house and find a safe place to call the police. I was pretty sure that Mom and Shannon were dead at this point, and this thought brought tears to my eyes. All my life, I had been treated like garbage by my abusive father, and my mother and Shannon were the only two people I had at the time to keep me going. They were always there to look out for me, to care for me, and now I'd probably never see them again. I really wished that my dad had been a different person and not some heartless, drunk abusive bastard who beat his own children for sport because he hated them. Father's are supposed to love and care for their children, not treat them like they shouldn't have been allowed to existed. I hated my father for all the hell he put me and my family through, and I wanted to make him pay.

I thought about it long and hard, then I decided to do what needed to be done. I was going to try and take out the last three thugs in my house along with my dad. I knew it was suicide, but I didn't care anymore. I had just lost everything and everyone I cared about to my dad, so I had nothing to lose except my life. If I was going to die, I'd take the bastards who killed my family down with me. I headed out the back gate that lead into the front yard of Ms. Westwoods house, then I made my way across the yard and into the sidewalk where I then slowly made my way back towards my house. As my house came into view and I got close enough, I noticed something near the driveway that I failed to notice earlier. There was a white van with no license plates parked behind my Mom's Honda civic with its side door open, and in it were none other than the remaining three masked men, but my father wasn't there. The men were fiddling with something in the van and had their backs turned to me, so they didn't notice me or hear me slowly creeping towards them. A sadistic grin came over my face as I realized I had the element of surprise on my side.

"Time to pay, assholes" I said softly, reaching down to my waist.

I pulled a hand grenade off my belt, yanked the pin out, and then threw the grenade right into the van where it landed right under the feet of the three thugs. The moment they looked down to see what landed in the van, the grenade detonated and the entire van exploded into pieces, killing the last of the henchmen and destroying my Mom's car as well. As soon as the van was destroyed, I turned towards my house just as I heard my dad yelling from inside. As soon as he stepped outside, I felt my blood boil when I saw him. This was the man that caused me so much pain and suffering since I was a child, and now I was going to make him pay for what he had done.

As soon as as I raised my gun at him, he turned around and looked directly at me, then I yelled, "GO TO HELL, YOU FUCKING DEMON!".

I fired the gun and several shots rang out, hitting my dad in both his legs, left kneecap, and his right shoulder. He felt to the ground screaming and cursing in pain as I prepared to end him with a shot to the head, but I stopped short when I heard the sound of sirens in the distance, and there were lots of them. I felt a rush of relief as I realized that the police were coming, so I threw the machine aside and removed the grenade belt from my waist as to not make the cops think I was one of the bad guys. Just before I could move, I heard my dad shout, "YOU MOTHERFUCKING SHIT!!!! I SWEAR, YOU'LL FUCKING PAY FOR THIS! I SHOULD HAVE JUST KILLED YOU AND THAT BITCH SISTER OF YOURS THE MOMENT YOU BOTH GOT SQUEEZED OUT OF YOUR MOM'S DAMN CUNT!!!". I responded by spiting on his face and yelling, "FUCK YOU!!!". I then ran across the yard, leaving my dad and the weapons behind as I attempted to get as far away from the house as I could just in case dad decided to try shooting at me. He may not have been able to stand since I shot up his legs real well, but he'd still be able to move his arms and hands, and that meant he'd be able to shoot me or try to bomb me with a grenade. Once I got past four houses just down the street, the adrenaline in my system began wearing off and I collapsed into the front lawn of a neighbors house next to the driveway, completely exhausted from being in fight or flight mode. As I lay there and began accepting the reality of everything that had just taken place, I just broke down sobbing, then I began to feel myself slipping into unconsciousness from exhaustion. Through my tears, I saw dozens of flashing red and blue lights heading in my direction; there were five police cars, three unmarked police cars, and a heavily armored S.W.A.T truck headed in the direction of my house. One of the unmarked patrol cars seemed to have noticed me, because one of them slowed down and drove up onto the driveway just a few feet away from me. That was the last thing I saw before blacking out.

When I woke up, I found myself laying in a hospital bed with three police officers and an FBI detective standing in the room next to me. The detective introduced himself as Detective Foxx Riley and told me that he was the one in the unmarked police car who noticed me laying on the ground and had called for an ambulance to bring me into the hospital. Now as you can guess, I had a lot of questions, but the first thing I asked was where my Mom and Sister were and if they were all right. The detective looked down with a sad look on his face, then he said in a sad voice, "I'm very sorry, Todd, but I have bad news regarding that question".

Detective Riley hesitated for a moment, then with a heavy sigh, told me that my mom and sister were both dead. My heart nearly stopped when I heard him say that. I had already suspected that Dad had killed them, but I wasn't able to confirm it at the time when I was still at my house since I'd been running and fighting for my life. However, I still didn't want to accept what I had just been told. I asked for proof, and Detective Riley told me that he had evidence photos he took at the crime scene, but he warned me that they were very graphic and disturbing and advised me to reconsidered my request. But I insisted on seeing them, so Detective Riley pulled some photos out of a briefcase and handed then to me, and what I saw on those photos nearly made me vomit. I had already suspected that I was going to see some very nasty shit in those photos, but nothing up to this point could have prepared me for what I saw in those photos. The first photo was of my mother laying on the basement floor with all four of her limbs cut off right at the hips and shoulders. Her eyes had been gauged out, her gut had been sliced open, and almost all of her internal organs had been ripped out and sprawled across the floor right next to her corpse.

Shannon faired no better. She also had all of her limbs sawn off and her insides had been ripped out as well, but unlike mom, her entire face had been shaven off and her eyeballs had been removed as well. Her sex organs had also been cut off along with my mom's as well, and from what I could tell from looking a little closer, I saw what looked like semen splurted all over the eye sockets of both my mother and Shannon. This was more than I could take and ended up vomiting all over the side of the bed, then I just broke down sobbing again. That bastard father of mine had just murdered my friends and my entire family, and I was all alone now. A nurse was called in to clean up the mess I made from puking, then through my tears, I asked the officers where my father was now and Detective Riley told me that he had been arrested and taken to a police hospital to be treated for his injuries. I then asked why he had gotten out of prison to begin with, and Detective Riley told me everything that he'd found out from his investigation.

My dad had broken out of prison during a power outage a week ago that had been supposedly caused by bad weather, but was later discovered to have been caused by an act of sabotage done to the powerlines caused by none other than another Mexican drug cartel group run by a Mexican mafia boss named Marco Vasquez, the brother of Victor Vasquez whom my father worked for before his imprisonment two years ago. The saboteurs were two Mexican drug cartel thugs disguised as linesman who had stolen an electrical line truck and then drove down to the prison where they destroyed the main electrical generator to the prison where my dad was being held, effectively knocking out the power to the whole prison. They also damaged the backup generator so that there'd be no backup power, which meant all the security systems would be down along with the electronic locks on the cell doors of the prison, allowing my dad and dozens of other prisoners to escape from their cells. Once they got out of their cells, my dad and his five drug cartel inmates friends overpowered three of the guards by slitting their throats with kitchen knives and took their guns, killing several other officers as well.

Once they got outside the prison, they fled the prison on foot for about two miles and were then spotted by several witnesses entering a black van with complete tinted windows. The police tried to stop them, but my dad and his men easily overpowered the pursuing cop cars with RPG launchers and a gatling gun inside the van, then they disappeared inside an abandoned tunnel and managed to evade the police entirely. When the police finally found the van, it was completely empty and had been stripped of all possible evidence. After that, they had completely gone off the grid until last night when several people in my neighborhood noticed a white van with no license plates driving around at 2:00 AM and stopping at various houses. The witnesses also mentioned seeing several men in ski masks come out of the van and wonder into the yards of several houses in each block, but they were already gone by the time the police got there to check things out, yet one of the witnesses did mention seeing someone who looked like my dad getting into the driver's side of the van. This is what got Detective Riley's attention and convinced him to warn my family the next day to get out of the house and into police protective custody as he was certain that my dad and his men were coming for us. However, when he couldn't reach us on our home phones or cellphones, he was convinced that my dad and his men had gotten to us and came down with a team to try and stop them. Now everything made sense. Remember earlier when I mentioned that I thought I heard something making noise outside my house late last night? Well, I soon learned what it was when Detective Riley told me what they found when the police searched my house for evidence inside and out.

Turns out, the phone box outside my house had been smashed open and the wires connecting to the phone lines had all been ripped out. The police also found an illegal cell phone signal jamming device attached to the wires connecting to our Wi-Fi network transmitter which jammed all cell phone signals within a thirty foot radius, but our house wasn't the only one that had been hit. After a thorough investigation of the neighborhood by police and FBI officials, they found that every single house on our block and the houses one block over had also been hit and had their phone lines cut as well. They were convinced that my dad and his men had done this last night so that none of the neighbors would be able to call for help once they noticed the commotion in my house. So that was it. That's what I heard last night when I had woken up. It wasn't a wild animal that I had heard outside my room window. It had been my dad or one of his men smashing our phone box open and cutting our phone lines and jamming our cell phone signals. I couldn't believe how clueless I had been. If I had actually bothered to wake up mom and tell her what I heard, her death might have been prevented, and so would the deaths of my sister, stepfather, and two best friends.

But Detective Riley told me that it wasn't my fault and that there's no way I could have known. He suspected that Victor Vasquez had been planning this for the past two years since he and my dad got locked up in prison, most likely for revenge. Due to how well calculated this whole plan had been, Detective Riley was pretty sure that he had help from other members of his brothers drug cartel and possibly even corrupt cops and prison guards both in and outside the prison, as there was no way that Victor and my dad could have pulled this all off without help from Marco's drug cartel. As of now, they had no clue as to where Victor and his brother were, but Detective Riley assured me that they'd soon find the answers to their location once he questioned my dad about it. Once Detective Riley finished telling me all this, I couldn't even begin to describe the pain I felt from all that had just happened to me. All of my hopes, my dreams, and my plans for the future had been forever shattered and changed because of what my dad had just done, and on my birthday. I didn't know what to do now. There was no way I could go back to my house now, not after everything that had just happened. Detective Riley told me that he was very sorry for my loss and that he'd do all he could to help me for now, and he even told me happy birthday, but I didn't even acknowledge it. How could I? My first and only one true birthday had been ruined, and in the most nightmarish way imaginable. There's no way I'd ever be happy on my birthday ever again, not after this. The day of my birthday would always serve as a reminder of the day that my entire family was murdered by that bastard father of mine.

Detective Riley then told me that he wanted me to answer some questions that he had and took out a voice recorder from his briefcase. This included everything that had happened from the moment I woke up on the morning of my birthday to everything that had happened after my dad arrived at my house to completely ruin my life forever. I really didn't want to relive those moments as they haunted me, but Detective Riley said that it was very important because I'd be providing a lot of extra evidence for the upcoming trial that my dad would be facing in court once he was well recovered enough to move around again. So with much hesitation, I told Detective Riley everything that had happened on the day of my birthday from the moment I woke up to the moment where I blacked out on the neighbors driveway. It took about an hour to explain everything from start to finish, and once I finally got to the part where I passed out on the driveway, I was breaking down in tears again. Detective Riley thanked me for my interview and told me that it would be everything that he needed to further build his case against my dad. He also commended me on how brave I was to have taken on all of those armed thugs outnumbered and outgunned and that not many people would be willing to do something like that. I asked him if he really believed everything I had just told him and he nodded. Detective Riley told me that the forensics team had found enough DNA evidence in my house to prove that my story was true, such as my fingerprints that had been found all over the bungee cords that had been used to restrain me and on the machine gun and grenade belt that I had left behind, so I wouldn't have to worry about being doubted by the authorities.

Later on, I was told by Detective Riley that he had arranged for me to stay at a nearby hotel after I was checked out of the hospital as they saw no reason to keep me there since I had no serious injuries. They would also have the place kept under heavy police protection just in case the cartel decided to send more thugs after me. Once I was at the hotel, I did absolutely nothing but reflect on the tragedy that had befall befallen on my birthday, and I hardly got any sleep because of it. About a week later on a Tuesday, I was brought over to the courthouse by an unmarked police car to participate in the trial against my dad that afternoon and to testify against him if called upon by the judge. Once I arrived at the courthouse and entered the courtroom, I saw my dad in a wheelchair at the defendants booth with whom I presumed was his lawyer sitting next to him. My eyes burned with fire as I stared at him. I was so tempted to just fun up and strangle him for taking my family from me, but I knew that would be pointless. Killing him out of hatred wouldn't bring my family back, and I'd only get in trouble with the law for doing so, so I just took my seat in the witness booth and tried to calm myself. There were a lot of witnesses in the booths, including the parents of Rex and Layla who had no doubt shown up to testify against my dad for the murder of their children. During the trial, the prosecutor revealed all the evidence that the police and FBI had found at my house along with my recorded interview with Detective Riley to the judge, including one more piece or evidence that horrifed me; it was a snuff film that my dad and his men had made of my mom and Shannon being raped, tortured, and murdered in the basement of my house.

The jury all viewed the film after the judge excused the witnesses from the courtroom, so thankfully, I was spared from whatever horrors the jury was about to see. Even with the doors to the courtroom closed, they were thin enough to where I could hear almost everything going on from inside there. I heard the sounds of Mom and Shannon screaming in pain from being sodomized, the sounds of my dad and his men ordering them to shut up, and then the horrible sound of the chainsaw dad used to butcher Mom and Shannon like pieces of meat. I also heard many other things on the film in that courtroom that were so horrible that I don't even want to describe them, but I will say this. My dad and his men had apparently committed the act of necrophilia since I heard the judge question him about it later on. The rest of the trial is unimportant, so I'll skip to the end. Once everyone was called back into the courtroom I saw several members of the jury looking completely sickened by what they had just seen, including the judge, who was slightly green in the face. After the jury looked over all the evidence and gave their conclusions to the judge, my dad was found guilty of first degree murder of multiple police officers, the rape, torture and murder of my mother, sister, and two best friends, and was given the death penalty. Two weeks later, I went over to the penitentiary where my dad's execution would be taking place and I met up with the family members of my two best friends, Rex and Layla. They told me that they were very sorry for what had happened to me and that they'd do anything they could to help me if and whenever I needed it.

At approximately 11:55 AM, me and dozens of other witnesses gathered in the witness room where the execution of my father would soon take place. Once the clock struck 12:00 PM, the curtains to the execution room slid open to reveal my father in an orange prison suit and strapped to the lethal injection table with two needles in his arms. The table had been raised up in a position to where my dad faced directly and me, and he just glared coldly at me with hatred in his eyes, but I did the same as well. This man had just taken everything from me, and now he'd finally get what was coming to him. I'll never forget what he said when the warden told him to make his final statements before the executioner activated the lethal injection machine to start the execution.

Dad sneered while still looking at me and said, "I hope the devil and his demons are doing your sweet little family members up the ass, cause when I get to Hell, me and devil are gonna do them up the ass and skull fuck them for all eternity! And I'll do the same to your fucking friends as well! Have a nice shitty life all alone like the fuck trash you are, and I'll see you in Hell!".

He started cackling like the Joker himself as the table was lowered back down, but he went silent as the warden then told the executioner to proceed with the execution. He flipped a switch on the lethal injection machine and my dad was soon sedated as the machine injected a sedative into his system. After the other two drugs were injected into his system, he died successfully and we all left the building, knowing that justice had been done and my dad was now burning in Hell for all eternity for the sins he had committed, but I was never the same person again though. Because of what I had been through on my eighteenth birthday, I ended up falling into a deep state of depression and developed a bad case of PTSD. My mothers life insurance policy left me with enough money to make a decent living, but I could never return to my old house after everything that had happened. I sold the old house and moved far away to Oregon and rented an apartment to live in, hoping to try and put the past behind me, but I still haven't gotten over it even to this day. Therapy, counseling, and even anti-depressants have done nothing to ease the horrible depression and traumatizing nightmares that I continuously deal with everyday.

I never pursued my dream of becoming a comic book artist either as it now seemed pointless. Instead, I dropped out of school and just started working at a fast food restaurant making $9.50 an hour just to continue living, and it hasn't gotten any better. I've often thought about just ending it all since my life just seems pointless now. I have no other friends or relatives, and I've shut myself out from any social activity outside of work. I've also become an alcoholic and a drug addict just to try and ease the constant pain I go through each day of knowing I'll never be happy again, and all because of my father. I'm writing this story now because I wanted to get it out before ending my pain so I can finally be with my mother and sister in heaven. I've already prepped the shotgun for myself and am about to end my misery, but before I end it all, I have a few things to say to all who read this. If you have a family member that is abusing you, be it your mother, father, or siblings, tell someone about it. Don't put it off like my mom constantly did or things will only get worse, like it did for me. Also, stand up for yourself if your being abused, and don't standby and let it escalate. And to my father, I have something to say to you as well. I hope we never meet again in the afterlife, and may your soul forever burn in the deepest, darkest pits of Hell for all eternity, and that's all I have to say. Mom, George, Shannon, Rex, Layla, I'm coming home. You won't be alone anymore, and neither will I. I'm coming home and we'll all be a big happy family again. Goodbye, everyone.