True Confessions We Can Never Go Back From

49. Putting It Off

My ex and I divorced six years ago. It was an ugly divorce, and our sons are now nine and 13. We live two miles apart and we get the kids one week on, one week off. After the divorce, we had no real meaningful relationship other than talking about the kids, scheduling and stuff. I had no idea or interest in her personal life and she was the same with me.

This last year, she started acting strange. She started being more chatty and friendly with me, but I still wasn’t interested in having a social relationship with her. On Monday, I picked the kids up from school for my week with them and she texted me around 8 pm saying how I was the only person who she trusted 100% with the kids and I was a great dad and she thanked me for it.

Then she told me to tell the boys that she loved them. That was weird because she would call my eldest to say goodnight every night that they were with me, but didn’t on that night. I drive by her place on my way to work and noticed her car was still parked on the street, but assumed she was working from home or sick. I should have seen the signs.

I had texted her in the morning about picking up my son’s school book that he left at her house, and hours had passed with no reply. That was very strange because she would reply within minutes if it had something to do with the kids. I started to grow a bit worried and called her. Again, I know nothing about her social life, so it wasn’t like I could call her friends because I don’t know any of them and her parents live out of state.

I left a voicemail telling her that if she didn’t call or text me back by 2 pm then I was going to her house to make sure she was okay. I left work early and went to her house. There were packages at her door, which was another red flag. She would never leave packages unattended outside. I called, texted, and knocked at the door and there was no response.

I let myself in and called out for her. I wish I could unsee what came next. I went into her bedroom and saw her body with a large bloodstain on her shirt and something that looked like a phone in her hand. That wasn’t a phone. She had shot herself in the heart. I called the authorities and they questioned me for three hours and told me they would reach out to her parents as I was no longer next of kin.

I had to pick up my kids and kept a stone face as I was still processing the situation. On Wednesday, my eldest started complaining that his mom was not replying to his text messages and demanded that I take him to her house, which is still all taped up. He thinks she’s ignoring his texts or that her phone is broken and wants to tell her to fix it.

I asked to speak with his principal in private and told him that he would be missing school next week. He asked what in the world could be so important that he should miss a week of school. I told him about his mom, and explained that I haven’t told him yet. Meanwhile, her mom has been calling me constantly asking to speak to the boys.

I told her I haven’t told them yet because things have been moving too quickly. My eldest is picking up that something has happened and now the nine-year-old is picking up vibes too. My 13-year-old is demanding that we go to his mom’s and even threatened to ditch school if I didn’t do it. The nine-year-old wouldn’t let me drop him off at school and had a meltdown.

I decided to tell them what happened next week because I am not prepared to deal with the madness coming my way.

InevitableHour

50. Into Thin Air

I’m a 26-year-old girl. When I was young, a stranger from school posing as my dad’s friend picked me up. He was saying that he would drop me off at the airport to catch a flight with my dad. Not only did I actually have to travel with my dad that day, but this man somehow knew my dad was getting off early from work, which he’d told me that morning, and that he had to go fishing with his friend.

This man told me that my dad sent him to pick me up and meet him directly at the airport. I believed him, convinced my teachers I knew him (because I was excited to go the airport) and left with him. I was held in captivity for three years. Eventually, 11-year-old me learned to make him trust me. It started with us going around in his car, although I had to sit in the backseat and stay quiet the whole time.

He let me come into his kitchen and make food for myself, and then he let me clean his house. The day we went to feed the ducks at the park, I ran. I ran as fast as my weak legs could carry me. Because of the crowd, I think he lost me. I begged a family for help, telling them I was kidnapped and I wanted to go home. I told them my name, my school’s name, and my parents’ names.

Long story short; they caught him, and he offed himself. I was back with my dad, my sisters, my dogs. I’m now happily married to my wife of four years, still undergoing therapy. I now have a good job and a baby on the way.

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