Abuse In All Its Forms

I wasn't sure whether to post this in I hate pedophiles, or I hate people who hurt, stalk and rape women, or what. So this little story is kind of the blanket "I hate people who abuse others" tale.

I forget who told me this. He was a father. His daughter had been involved with a real nasty member of the male sub species. One day, she had told her father she no longer wanted anything to do with him, and asked that he answer the phones if they rang, because she was afraid to even speak to him. He agreed, and consoled her.

Later that evening, the phone rang. It was indeed the very same creep calling. The father told him in no uncertain and much less polite terms that if he was ever seen again, he would likely be killed. The creep, who seemed humored by these threats, told the father he was coming over anyway. While each made a few more threats, there really wasn't much of an argument about it. When the creep hung up the phone, the father went to his gun case, pulled out a hunting rifle, turned the lights out and waited by the back window.

The fellow stalking his daughter was dangerous, but also predictable. In about 20 minutes, he appeared from the bushes and started sneaking towards the back door. There was a crack from the hunting rifle, which sent a 7mm round whizzing past his ear. "Next time I won't miss." the father shouted, and the creeper scrambled away. He never returned to that home, and was never heard from again. Except once.

About three years later, while reading a newspaper, the father recognized the creeper in a photo. He was being charged with multiple accounts of sexual abuse, trespassing, rape, and so forth. All of these charges had occurred in the past two years.

As he told the story to me, I saw a sincere look of regret on his face. I don't recall the name, but the look stays with me.

"If I'd have know," he said, "for one minute, that he'd have gone on to hurt that many other people, I wouldn't have missed. I wish to God I'd have killed that man in my back yard."

I intend to learn from such stories. If I am ever given the choice, to either kill or spare a rapist, a child molester, or other form of abusive person, I already have my mind made up. It's not because I'm proud, vengeful, or that I think my anger is so potent. I don't want to kill. Ever. But I couldn't sleep knowing my kindness, my mercy, had so profoundly scarred the so many others.

I never want to be put in a position where I have to choose between the burden of taking a life, and of letting a rapist live their's.
Dani3Forsyth Dani3Forsyth
May 22, 2012