Chapter Twenty: The Final Farewell

On February 18, 2010, Gypsy was meant to work from 7am-7pm. It was perfect – he’d be gone all day and I’d be able to get a hold of someone to come get me and the kids.

I packed up what I could – careful not to let on to his parents what I was doing. I tried calling all my friends and family – but nobody answered.

I called the police, and realized I couldn’t risk Gypsy’s parents picking up the phone to overhear the conversation, so I instead told them to meet me down the road to file the report.

But they came to the house instead. I tried to keep cool, and tried to conceal from Gypsy’s parents that the police were right in front of their house, and I filled out what I could as quickly as I could – but it was too late.

They came outside and spoke to the police, then told me,

“I’ve never had the police come to my house, and that’s just it. I want you out.”

I replied, “That’s fine with me – I’m already on it.” And I continued to call anyone I could. Only one friend answered – an old Army friend of mine, with whom I am still very close to this day, to whom I’ll refer as Wes. He heard with excitement that I was finally getting out, and instantly wired me $200.00 – enough to get my things into storage and pay a cab to get me and the kids to a shelter.


Actual Police Report – Redacted

But Gypsy’s parents were one step ahead. They’d already found the kids’ things packed up, hidden everything (including the children) in their room, locked the door, and alerted Gypsy – who very quickly returned home, just 4 hours into his shift.

I attempted to get to the kids, but Gypsy wouldn’t even let me into the house, and threw my things into the front yard. They called a taxi. When I finally got back inside, I overheard them at his parents’ door

Gypsy, “If she tries to get into this room, you get the gun from your closet. Don’t let her get to the kids. I’ll handle everything else – you just stay with them.”

Up until this moment – after 4 years of living in that house – I never once knew they’d had a gun. Knowledge is sorrow, and I realised I couldn’t risk putting the kids in that position.

I had no choice. I had to try to get the state to help me get them back later, and I was forced to leave without them.

2 thoughts on “Chapter Twenty: The Final Farewell

Add yours

  1. You are a really talented and intelligent writer. I can see that you’ve had a very hard life, but just knowing the little bit i know about you, writing is your skill. Your talent. Your true calling. Your meal ticket. What you have here is GOLD and in the right hands, a publishing deal is a no brainer for you. This is really good stuff you have here. Very heartbreaking. But a damn good read. I’m an artist too. Unfortunately, the best material comes from adversity. If u ever wanna talk. Email me :

    Liked by 1 person

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