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God Leads Us Along

Ps172

Alfrescian
Loyal
In shady, green pastures, so rich and so sweet,
God leads His dear children along;
Where the water's cool flow bathes the weary one's feet,
God leads His dear children along.

Some through the waters, some through the flood,
Some through the fire, but all through the blood;
Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song,
In the night season and all the day long.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vG8acx-YFzk&feature=related

"Dearest Ren, I love this hymn very much. When I first heard it, I felt it really touched my soul. In time to come, when you grow up, you'll also face your own share of trials and sorrows. Please always remember this hymn and put your trust in the Lord. Love, Mummy 18/5/09."

------------------------------------------------------------

On 30 September 2007 around 5pm, I was watching TV with Ren in the living room when Russell came out of the masterbed room and approached us purposefully. He had been there for at least an hour, presumably napping with Yang.

He prefaced by telling Ren that a lot of things said the previous day were not true. Then he went on to disparage me by listing some of the things I said and telling Ren categorically, "Your mother is a liar." He repeated the arguments we had the previous day, e.g. how I had "abused" the maids and I had lied about his "fondling" of the maid’s breast. I made some half-hearted rejoinders and left the living room for the kitchen. Who in the right mind, would seriously want to engage a dangerously violent man after being threatened with knives 24 hours ago???

I remember taking out some meat from the freezer to thaw in preparation for dinner. I unlocked the metal gate, but turned back to put on brassiere. When Russell saw me approaching the metal gate again (the wooden door had been open all this while when Ren and I were watching TV), he blocked me at the doorway and asked where I was going. I refused to answer him initially, and he asked pointedly if I was going to the police station. I said “yes”, hoping he would back off. He didn’t, but started getting worked up and threatening me with “don’t escalate or you’ll regret it”, or “stop this nonsense, I won’t let you do it”.

Truly frightened for my safety yet putting up a brave front, I retreated to the kitchen to call “999” for police assistance. I also wanted to put on record what he did yesterday – that he had earlier threatened me with two knives, twice. I was hoping that would underscore the severity of the present situation and therefore expedite the police despatch.

I was in the kitchen when my call was connected. He had left the doorway and come into the kitchen. His back was facing the repository of kitchen knives, and was leaning his face very close to mine. He kept on intimidating and half-pleading with me - “don't escalate","don't make me do it". He was clearly at once very angry and fearful of my exchange with the police.

When I disconnected the call, I thought I could now leave the house since Russell was no longer in the doorway. I turned my back towards him and took one or two steps towards the exit of the kitchen. That was when I felt something pulling me back forcefully by my hair, and a sharp pain in the back. When I realized I was being stabbed, I couldn't believe it! To say I was very terrified was an understatement. My mind was in shock and yet it was also desperately trying to think of something while my body struggling intuitively against him. Many thoughts fleeted across my mind - can I grab the knife and throw it out of the kitchen window? What if the falling knife ends up hurting a passer-by? What should I do to stop him from killing me???

Where was that crucial "sudden and grave provocation"? Whatever insults traded this round, they were only a fraction compared to the day before, in terms of duration and actual words. The quarrel we had was much shorter and less vehement.

Was it then the calling of the police, or the contents of the exchange that were the root cause of the "provocation"? If so, does it make sense to take on the would-be murderer's interpretion as such? As a potential victim in a precarious situation, I wasn't justified to make that call?

Brutally I will you the truth, it was simply his twisting of facts and employment of multiple smoke screens to hide his murderous intent in getting even for the call.

Somehow at this point, I remembered our earlier discussion on making a CPF nomination. I was hoping to tell him not to kill me then, because I had not made the nomination yet and so the children would not be able to withdraw any money till they were 21. Yes, that was super lame. So lame that he didn't get it then, and probably nobody would ever have either if I hadn't just explained. But at that time, I simply couldn't think of any other subject that might stop him in his murderous track. I also tried "sorry" and "I was wrong" for that matter. However, my words had no effect on him and he continued to stab until I finally stumbled and fell onto the floor at the end of the kitchen. He kept stabbing and slashing me. At one point, I looked up and vaguely saw our neighbour. He made some horrified mutterings as he turned back and went off, with Russell pursuing after him.

Russell is the personification of under-handed bullying, period. He started to strike only when my back was turned to him. More ominously, he later tended a perverted argument in his appeal: that I must have realized I was in the wrong since I told him then that I was sorry!!! I simply couldn't believe that this warped line of thinking can even fool a pea-sized brain.

If somebody is stabbing you with a vengence, and you know you can't fight him and that you think you're going to die, what would you say? It's like arm-twisting a child until he cries out "sorry" and then crowing to adults that he deserves it.

I sat on the kitchen floor for a while before I picked myself up and decided to barricade in the bathroom. However Russell returned before I could fully close the door and he forced his way in. He tried to stab me and I tried hard to repel his attacks. I was forced down (or fell down?) and was lying supine on the bathroom floor. He continued to stab me around the neck and even tried "sawing" - with my hands desperately pushing against the sharp blade around the neck. I remember biting down hard on his cursed arm that wielded the knife when it was nearing my neck and my hands were on it trying to push it away.

In an act that mirrored his true colours, Russell actually appealed to the CJ partly on the basis that he too had "suffered" injuries e.g. cut tendon. That takes the icing on the cake. By the glib of his tongue, the failed murderer is now cast as a "joint" victim. This guy has absolutely no repentance. I think it would be reasonable to postulate that if I had died, Russell would have no qualms saying that he was merely defending himself. Dead women, dead mothers and dead daughters, tell no tales.

At one point, Russell stood up over me and tried to suffocate me by stomping over my throat with his foot. He was holding on to the bathroom sink for support, I guess because the floor was slippery with blood. I tried to arch up and kick feebly at his groin. For some reason, he stopped after that and left the bathroom. I had the feeling that he realized that hadn't been an efficient way to polish me off - he could risk slipping and falling on his head in the pool of my blood. Yeah, that would be the irony of ironies. Or perhaps, my kicks had jolted his mind into sharper focus and he was retreating to reassess the situation.

By the end of the second wave of attack, I could hear Russell warning the children not to step into the kitchen at least twice "because there was blood everywhere". Dear Dr Douglas Kong, you're right when you wrote "he variously described as feeling blank, trance-like and "autopilot"". You were smart enough to indicate that this came from Russell's self description, because in actual fact, he had the presence of mind to warn the boys and check on them during the interludes. Unfortunately, not everybody was detail-oriented enough to pick up this subtlety. Autopilot, my foot! His foot!

Lying on bathroom floor, I could hear the children crying very badly in the background and I told myself I could not die just like that. Bizarrely, I could see the golden late afternoon sunlight around the kitchen area, and I was thinking that it could have looked like a "normal" Sunday afternoon...

Russell came back to the bathroom after a while, and cocked his head and asked if I was “still alive” or “dead yet”. When he detected a weak response in me, with a remarkable cold sneer (yes, I will always remember that), he left my line of sight to retrieve his knife and came back and stabbed me. I could only make very weak and ineffectual attempts at defence by now. As he was stabbing me for the third round, Ren came and tried to stop him by holding back his father’s arm. When Ren begged him to stop, the latter replied by saying “No, I must kill her", "She must not live", "She must die”. To my ears, Russell sounded determined and a bit hysterical. Does this fit the profile of a father who would love and protect his sons?

I remember saying “sorry” again to placate him and also “stop, I’m going to die”, “the CPF…”. Russell finally stopped and left me with Ren. My impression was that he thought he had left me for good, that I would not survive. Ren then looked hopeful and innocently told me something like “Mama, go to the hospital ok?”


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