146. Please don’t kill Mommy (12/08/05) - Heather, Maryland, Age 35
My worst Christmas was one of many. My family always had huge fights on Christmas or around it, throwing the decorated tree over, etc. Well, I was very young, maybe 5, my little brother was 3 and my older brother was 8. My parents got into it again. We were all standing in the doorway to my parents' room begging daddy to "please don't kill Mommy" on Christmas Eve. He was standing over her with a sledge hammer. That year was the real kicker.
My grandmother and uncle came over with presents. My parents never could afford really good gifts or what we wanted, but my grandmother and uncle did. Well, to top off what my father did (he left that night and didn't come back all day), my mother took all of our presents that came from my grandmother and uncle and threw them down the front steps (two flights). We had gotten a television from them, and many gifts that we really wanted. The neighbor kids never forgot it and proceeded to torment us until we grew up and moved out.
