by Kristal Mcvicar

Created on: May 29, 2008   Last Updated: June 09, 2008

There are forces in life of good and evil and if you truly have faith that good will always prevail, no matter what the circumstances, it always will.

Five months after leaving my very abusive husband in my twenties, he would move back to the city I had relocated to upon leaving him. It was my belief, at the time, that this move closer to our son would help them maintain the close bond they shared and help him deal with the pain he was experiencing over our separation.

I made the unwise decision once there, to allow him to stay with us while he secured work and a place of his own. It was three weeks before Christmas. In an effort to expedite things I had offered financial help to get him set up in exchange for his agreeing to take care of Christmas for our son. It sounded like a great plan!

Within a week, my estranged husband would plan, and try to execute, the long threatened promise to kill me should I ever leave him.

Much of the forty five minutes in my apt that night are confused or fuzzy, but through faith and the power of good versus evil, I did escape with what most would consider, minor injuries.

I should have been murdered that night, his plan was actually quite good, but I was not. Something or someone told me the right things to do and say at the right times to put into motion my eventual escape.

One would think that was the worst thing that could have happened to anyone in life, but what transpired over the next 24-48 hours would prove that theory wrong.

It was not until police had been called and arrived to find my husband barricaded in my apt and profusely bleeding from self-inflicted wounds, that I would realize I did not know where my son was. I feared the worst. After I had left work earlier, I had stopped to pick him up at daycare, only to be told his father had already retrieved him.

My sense of panic was beyond comprehension. Luckily, once my mother-in-law arrived at the hospital, I was informed my husband had taken my son to trusted friends of ours.

Unless one has ever encountered such a situation, they cannot imagine the shock that sets in. After a visit to the hospital to tend to my wounds, I went to friends and stayed up the whole night talking. I then went to work. It would be the last day I worked in a very long time.

It was exactly two weeks until Christmas.

To my horror, the next day I watched as all the friends I loved and needed at the time, came to me one by one, telling me they were scared and as long as my husband was in that city, they

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