Cut Throat

CUT THROAT A DAY LIKE ANY OTHER--AT HOME WITH MY BABY GIRL AND HER THREE YEAR OLD BROTHER My son attended play-school three mornings a week his sister still at home had just turned one she loved her big brother—her hero and friend strapped in her car seat-- a restriction she hated we did the short trip to fetch him from ‘school’ The 5 minute drive home –full of his morning news pictures created and people he had played with pulled into our drive- way in no time at all lunch time preparation as they watched cartoons on TV Placing my purse in the room on my bed I turned and was grabbed around the neck sharp knife he held the steel tip close--cut throat threatening to kill me if I struggled or shouted Locking the bedroom door he commanded I hand over anything valuable—demanding to know—where I kept a gun? he pulled off my wedding band and helped himself liberally still holding the knife at my throat – precious sentimental things he stole Comprehending the fact I was no longer in sight my baby’s stood at the door-- banged and cried pleading with my assailant to do them no harm he tied me up, cut the phone cord-- just laughed Allowing my children into the room locking us up from the outside within my daughter was screaming, my son acting brave trying to cut my constraints with a nail file With no phone connection trapped in my room he boldly climbed out the window taking action three blocks down the road— only three years old running to my sister’s home—screaming ‘call the police’ The trauma ended as we were finally set free continued relentless, far beyond that day— constantly this man who attacked causing extensive terror-- fear was never located, escaping his crime-- forever free A DAY LIKE ANY OTHER—AT HOME WITH MY BABY GIRL AND HER THREE YEAR OLD BROTHER This happened to us in July 1991—since then crime has escalated out of control in South Africa… many not fortunate enough to tell the tale