10. My father kidnapped me as an infant and hid me for three days at his severely-alcoholic sister’s house with essentially no supervision.
“My father kidnapped me as an infant and hid me for three days at his severely-alcoholic sister’s house with essentially no supervision. He was incredibly abusive to my mother, and after she left him due to six years of beatings and psychological torture (from ages fifteen to twenty-one) and her concern for her children (me at age one and my little brother on the way), he decided to take the one bit of happiness she had left away.
I was being babysat at one of my aunt’s houses (not the alcoholic mentioned earlier), and he came in and took me under the guise of ‘taking his baby girl for a walk.’ My mother was working her second job of the day because she was a single parent with one kid already and one on the way, so she had no way to know I had been taken until my aunt called her panicking about me being missing. My mom called my father, knowing he had something to do with my disappearance because he had recently showed back up in their hometown after she ran away from him two states away, and he had always threatened to take me just to spite her. Good ole’ Pops answers and basically says, ‘Fuck you. You’ll never see her again, and I’ll make damn sure of it.’ She felt she couldn’t call the police because he had drilled into her head over their six-year relationship (him being twelve years her senior, it wasn’t a healthy one at all) that if she ever got him in any trouble with the law, he’d kill her. So, she drove around to every possible place she could think of where he could have hid me, but she couldn’t find me. You can imagine the stress that this puts on a mother, especially a pregnant one, so what happened next basically floored me when I heard about it.
My dad, in all of his fucked-up ways, called my mother and told her he would drive her to where I was as long as she never told the police what had happened. Of course, she agreed, though she did plan to tell them after she had safely taken me away. He picks her up at night in a car that wasn’t his and started driving toward town, talking like a maniac the whole way due to being fucked up on multiple drugs at once. They end up in a deserted area of downtown (purposefully on his part), get out of the car, and he corners her against the back of a closed diner. “You’ll never fucking see her again. I’m going to fucking kill you bitch,” he said (Word for word, according to my mother), and he pulled a knife. Now, my mom is not a large woman, and she was pregnant at the time, so even an idiot would assume my father could overpower her; he wouldn’t need any weapon. Right? Wrong. She. Beat. The. Shit. Out. Of. Him. In a pitch-dark alley way at midnight. A straight up beat down by a tiny pregnant woman to a damn Sasquatch of a man. It’s the most badass thing I’ve ever heard of, personally. She left him unconscious and hitch-hiked back to her house with an old bar friend she knew, calling every friend and family member of his she knew to find me. Eventually, prior-mentioned alcoholic aunt answered and gave up my whereabouts, and my mom got me back. Luckily, the stress didn’t endanger her pregnancy, and a few months later, my younger brother came along. My dad did not fuck with my mom like that again (though, unfortunately, he still did make her life a living hell in other ways for sixteen years following my kidnapping).
Luckily or unluckily—I haven’t quite figured it out yet- my father died this past May. Suicide by hanging in front of his drug buddies’ house in the middle of the night. Luckily because my mother does not have to deal with any more craziness from him (what I’ve mentioned here doesn’t even to begin to cover it). Unluckily because my younger brother took it really hard and blamed himself. Mom never told him the worst of our dad’s actions, and he was our dad’s favorite. He always acted like a great dad during our court-mandated visits, so little bro had no reason to hate him. I like to think I came out well-adjusted through all the shit he put us through (mentally stable, I mean), so I’ve managed to deal with his death just fine.
Sorry for the wall of text. I never have been the best at condensed writing. Everything I mentioned was told to me by at least two different people, so I feel reasonably certain it’s all true.
TL;DR: Abusive asshole dad kidnaps me out of spite, attempts murder, gets the shit beaten out of him by my tiny, pregnant mother. I was returned safely after three or four days.”
11. My uncle grabbed me from my crib and drove us around town for a few hours to ‘teach’ my parents a lesson.
“My mom told me this story, that happened to me.
I was an infant, my uncle came over to our house and found the door unlocked and my folks and my sisters asleep in the living room. To ‘teach’ my parents a lesson he grabbed me from my crib and drove around town for a few hours and came back home. My family didn’t even know I was gone and I was still asleep.”
12. My teen mom came home one day to realize my biological father had taken me.
“My teen mom came home one day to realize my biological father had taken me. Apparently, she didn’t know where I was for 3 months. That’s all I know of the story. I wasn’t even 1 year old then so I have no recollection. This story was also brought up randomly one day and I was like “Oh…okay…” Lol. For some reason I’ve never had the curiosity to ask more details. Feels like a topic that should be left alone.”