My Son Has More

I have another set of stories from my son. They are in his words but I may add a comment here or there. If I do I will let you know it is mine and not my son's.

There are a few parts to this story so I'll start with the main part. I was at my house around 8 p.m. when someone knocked on my door. I got up, answered it and there were 3 guys there and one of them put a gun to my head. 

We went back into the living room and they told me and the girl that was there to lay on the ground. After I did one of them went to my bedroom and started searching it and the other one started kicking my in the head. He was jumping on my head trying to knock me out. It wasn't working because my adrenalin was pumping and I couldn't even feel it. He finally got tired and stopped. 

I turned my head to see what they were doing and he kicked me again. When he did, I saw he had a gun in his boot. I grabbed it and started to get up. As I did, the other guy came out of my bedroom and started shooting at me. I shot back, I shot at his head but missed because I was still trying to get up. 

I fired two more shots and hit him in the chest. After that, my gun jammed, cheap bullets. I heard his shots going past me but I didn't think I got hit; I never felt a thing. Everything was in slow motion. The guy I hit was falling as I was getting up. 

I all of a sudden turned when I was completely up and the guy that was watching me had his gun right between my eyes, about an inch away. I thought I was done right then. When he didn't fire, I looked up and saw he was in shock. 

I tackled him and we both went flying through the living room and all the way through to the far end of the kitchen. We both fell on the ground and both guns went flying. He got up and started running and I tried to get up but for some reason I couldn't get my legs working. They finally started working and I got up. I ran to the living room and everyone was gone, even the girl that was at my house. 

The first thing I thought was they took her. I ran out the door onto the front porch and saw them leaving in a car, still pulling the guy I shot in the back seat with the door still open and him halfway out of the car. The 3rd guy wasn't with them, he just was at the wrong place, wrong time. 

My neighbor called the cops, he said he saw them leaving and thought I was dead so he called the cops. He looked at me and said, you've been shot. I said, "No I'm not." He said, "Look at your leg."

I looked down and blood was running down my leg. The cops got there and took me to the hospital. At the hospital, they found out I got shot in both legs. I still have the bullets in me because they say it will cause more damage trying to take them out. 

That night, the cops searched my house and took some stuff out of it. I got out of the hospital about 2 a.m. and was back home. The people at the hospital told me the girl that was at my house was just there, they said she got shot in the but and she was ok.

The cops wanted me to come do a line up and me and my lawyer went to the precinct and looked at pictures. They got mad because I couldn't pick the guy out. The cop was pointing at a picture of a guy in a hospital bed, with a tube in his throat, saying this is the easiest lineup I ever did in my life. He was trying to make me pick that guy and was really mad that I wouldn't. 

They tried to threaten me after that by saying they found some illegal stuff in my house when they searched it. My lawyer told them the did an illegal search and told them they lied about when they searched. They said they searched all the next day but they couldn't have, I was home with people in and out all day. (Note from Emma: I picked him up at the hospital and was there off and on all day. There were no police officers.)

And you can't get a search warrant signed on a legal holiday, witch is when this all happened, Thanksgiving. You can get one signed for a legal holiday but not on one. So their threats didn't work and we were out of there and done with them. Now I just had to deal with my parole officer!

(Another note from me: It was Thanksgiving and my son did not want to go anywhere for a meal so my daughter and I took him a plate. It was a good excuse to make sure he was doing well.

I knocked on the door and heard a gruff voice asking who was there. It was my ex-husband. I told him it was me so he opened the door just a crack and put a gun in my face!

I told him to put that thing away and went in to check on my son. His father was frantic and afraid that someone would come back to retaliate. He had also been drinking so he was not in the most stable position. 

He went to his house a couple of blocks away to make sure everything was okay there. He handed me his gun and told me to protect things while he was gone. 

After he left my son said to give the gun to him and he would give it back to his father after he sobered up. So I gave it to him.

He was not happy when he came back and I did not have a gun for him. No more violence occurred.)

The morning I got up to report to my parole officer after the shoot out at my house, I was sore because I had just got shot in both my legs. I got up and just threw on some sweat pants and a T-shirt.

 I get to the parole office and there are about 100 people in there waiting, like always. It seems like everyone in this city is on parole. Anyway, after about an hour my parole officer comes out from her offices and looks over at me and has a weird look on her face. 

She comes over to me and says "You have to be the craziest person I've ever had on parole." I asked why. She said "You just got in a shoot out in your house, the F.B.I. called me for a couple months last year trying to get me to violate your parole because they said you robbed the Harley Davidson shop in another city and stole $1,000,000 worth of bikes and other stuff and now you come in here dressed like this." 

I said, "I just got shot, what am I supposed to wear, a suit?" She said, "No but not the shirt you've got on." I looked at my shirt and realized I put on a shirt I bought at the mall a few months ago. It was a black T-shirt and in big block Orange letters it said PAROLE VIOLATER!. Everyone in the room was laughing. Even my parole officer. 

She was a good parole officer, never really bothered me too much, and she wouldn't lock me up when the F.B.I. wanted her to, with no good reason. About the Harley Shop, I don't know how the cops thought I stole all that stuff. They raided my house and took me to jail and held me for 72 hrs. They never found anything and the first day they had me the detectives took me to an office in the precinct and asked me if I had anything to say. I said all I want is to talk to my lawyer. 

The second day a detective from the other city came and did the same. I gave the same answer. The third day the cop from the other city and an F.B.I. agent came and I gave the same answer again but this time the F.B.I. still tried to talk to me and didn't care about my rights. He was looking to see if he could get a reaction from me. After all that they took me back to go to my cell. 

They had to wait for the guard to come so as we were in the hallway. The cop from the other city asked, "After you get a lawyer, maybe then you will talk to us?" I looked at the F.B.I. agent and we both knew just by looking at each other that they had to let me go. 

When the guard came and took me to the cell, he said,"You aren't talking are you?" I said, "No." He said, "You want to know how I know?" I said, "Yes."

 He said, "Every time they take you out of here I put the cuffs on you real tight don't I?" I said, "Yes you do!" He said, "Well I'm just doing what I'm told. And every time you come back those cuffs are still real tight aren't they?" I said, "Yes, you guys are real good at keeping them tight." He said, "If you would've come back with the cuffs loose, I would've known you talked because they let you be comfortable." 

That's just one of there tricks they do, make you as uncomfortable as possible so you want to give them what they want, even if you're not guilty. That's why you hear about people that confess to crimes that later they are found not guilty of from other evidence, like D.N.A. People naturally want to get out of an uncomfortable situation and the government uses that. After all that, they let me go and I never heard about that again. Ok I got to end this,