My mother was taking me a bath in the upstairs bathroom of our apartment. I was laughing and enjoying my bath time as most small kids do, playing with my bathtub toys and bubbles, when we heard someone running up the stairs.

My mother turned just as the door to the bathroom was yanked open, and my father rushed in. Pushing my mother aside, he jerked me out of the bathtub and started down the stairs with me in tow. My mother was screaming, “what are you doing, stop”.

She reached for me and was able to grab one of my arms. In the middle of the staircase of our apartment, my mother and father literally pulled me from each direction, each trying to gain possession of my five-year-old body.


I was naked, crying, and I do not understand what was happening.

My parents had separated when I was about four years old. My mother was keeping me away from my father and his side of my family. They were not ready to give me up. They had decided to kidnap me, and take me away from my mother. I don’t know how thought out the process was, or what the next steps was supposed to be, but my father put their plan into action.

So, on the stairs of my home, my father and mother are playing their own game of tug of war with my little body.

With tears running down my eyes, I tell my mother that it hurts, so she let’s go.

My father scoops me up and runs out of the apartment. He puts me in his green van, runs around the car and speeds off. In his haste, he almost runs over a neighborhood child.

I know I am with my father, but I was terrified and can not comprehend what is happening. Dad says everything will be okay. He gave me one of his extra-large white t-shirts to put on, so that I was no longer naked. He takes me to a small, cheap motel one town away from where I live. I am happy to see some of my family there, but I am still very afraid.

I don’t remember a lot about my time at the motel. What I do remember, vividly, is the cop car that I went home in. An officer carries me out of the motel room, he puts me in the back of his cop car. I am sitting on a cold vinyl seat in an extra-large white t-shirt belonging to my father in the back of a police car.

I can still feel the cold material of those seats. I see my father being handcuffed through the window.

I am crying and terrified as the police officer gets in the car and starts driving. I haven’t been told anything, and I still don’t know what happening. The officer drives in silence…

I often wonder why in the world the cop placed me in the back of that car. Was it procedure? Was it just callousness on his part? Could he not let this five-year-old little blonde girl ride up front, or offer any comfort? I’ll never understand why he did this…or why it bothers me so much.

Please read the next part of my story at FULL STORY



  1. wow i am so sorry that you had to go through that, no child should. I do think it was a bit cold of the officer to not have said anything or even let you ride in the front. sometimes they have been doing the job for so long that they forget to turn their “human” button on. I pray you still have some kind of relationship with your father, i am sure he didnt intend to hurt you in any way

    • Thank you. My father passed away a few years ago, but we did have a good relationship =) I understand about the officer and agree, but it did make the experience all that more traumatic. Thank you for commenting =)


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