Tanya Ashworth/AZ, CO

Does Your Mother Know Where Your Are? Part 3

When a stranger stands ominously in front of you with a look of evil in their eyes the natural response should be to go into a protective mode. That was not what I did when faced off with a strange man all alone in a strange house in the middle of the night.

Later on I would learn that he had already raped two other women and I was to be the third.

My mother had raised my sister and I to be “ladies.” One of the traits strongly instilled into us was to never raise our voice, never to scream. “A lady does not scream.” So I stood there looking at this strange man with fear so thick that no thoughts could get to my brain. I was numb. Solid cement numb. But I knew I must not scream. I did think to myself, “If he touches me I will crumble into nothingness. He must not touch me.”

Then, out of the clear blue these words started pouring out of my mouth without any pre-thought. At the same time my body began aggressively shaking like someone going into an epileptic fit. I am not epileptic but what that intruder witnessed was a severe case of epilepsy. What he heard, while I pointed a shaking finger at him in a very disciplinary manner was, “Young man, does your mother know where you are?!”

Why on earth that particular sentence came out of my mouth, I have no idea. Apparently, it was exactly what was needed at the time because he tore out of the house and went running down the street.

Like I said, I was numb but the next thing I remember was that I was standing on the porch screaming. Screaming! It was past midnight and there I stood nonstop screaming. I definitely never knew I had that capability in me.

A group of college age guys where having a party a few houses down and some of the guys ran up to the porch to see if I needed help. I didn’t stop screaming but responded to them by pointing out the direction that the intruder had taken off in. The party guys set out in chase.

When I finally stopped screaming the realization of being all alone was equally as frightening. I desperately needed someone to help calm the intense fear I was encased in. That was when I dimly made out the figure of someone casually walking down the sidewalk in the dark of night.

The figure walking towards me was that same man from the seminar several weeks earlier, DW.

“Why would he be here?" Where is he going at this time of night,” is what I was asking myself.

He came up to the porch and in a very gentle, kind and assuring way he said, “You know who I am.” I nodded in agreement. And then he held me while I cried and cried and cried some more. All the emotions were pouring out of me in buckets.

Yes, he was a stranger, someone I had never met before but he was right, I did know him. He had been sent here at this exact time and place. I know the One who had sent him so I knew DW as well.

(The ending to this story continues in “Does Your Mother Know Where You Are?” Part 4.”)