You never think it's going to happen to you. And then one day, it does. You read these horror stories or watch them on the news and you think how did it go that far? How did someone not see it? How did it end up like that?
And you know what? I think the same thing about Vince.
I saw him a weekend before it happened. He spent the day at my mom's house. Before that I hadn't seen him in 6 months. And I remember thinking, something's off. He looks unhappy. He looks skinny. He looks... different.
This was him as I remember him...
And then when I saw him the last time...
His "mom" had just recently left my brother and so I thought maybe it was that. He missed his daddy. I'd heard of children regressing when their parents split up, even at a young age so I contributed it to that and the bruises were all explained.
He fell.
Oh, I accidentally hit his head on the car door.
He bumped into the table.
Well, that sounded reasonable. I have 6 other nieces and nephews and all of them are covered in bruises 95 percent of the time from something they decided was a good idea. Like jumping on the bed. Or rolling down the stairs in a laundry basket. You know kids.
But I think back to that particular day a lot and wish I would have done something right then. I struggle with exactly what. Call the police? Social services? Just take him with me?
Something. Anything.
And every time I think about it, I feel guilty. Because I know that if I would have done something that day everything would be so much different now.
But I didn't. And that next weekend I didn't get to see him. And I will never get to again.
That next weekend I went to her baby shower of the newest addition to the family. 6 week old Tarah Jayne, Vincents little sister.
Vincent did not join us that day. She said he was sick. He had "pink eye".
Later in the day she got a call informing her that Vincent was in the hospital. Unconscious. He had not woke up from his nap.
There are no words to explain how I felt at that moment. And I'm a writer. I use words to express everything. But I can't even begin. It something that goes beyond words.
We drove to the hospital and once we were together in a small room, my brother and step dad both missing because my brother couldn't be found and my step dad was on his way in from another town. The doctor joined us and informed us that Vincent was gone.
And I knew then it wasn't an accident. It wasn't a disease. Someone had done it to him. I was certain before anything else happened that Vincent had been hurt purposely. That his mom had chose the wrong guy to live with.
I went with my mom to find my brother. And we found him. And I was the one to inform him that Vincent was in the hospital. That he needed to go there and say goodbye because he wasn't going to wake up. That Vincent James Hill, his little boy, was gone.
I'll never forget that.
Katheryen "Nycole" Dale, Vincents mother, was convicted of 3 years in prison. Chad Char was sentenced to 20 years after accepting a plea agreement.
You can read the story here. There are quite a few news stories of it but I "like" this one because the title is "People You'll See in Hell". It isn't for the faint hearted. Trust me.
I miss him. And I wish I could go back and change everything. I wish I could take him and his little sister away from that house. I wish I could stop it.
But I can't go back. And even though Vincent is gone little Miss Tarah Jayne is still here. And she's a beautiful happy little girl with a very amazing angel watching over her.
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