Monday, 2 July 2012

I Give Thanks To My Angels

I Give Thanks To My Angels

I give thanks to my angels who protected me from being murdered during a planned attack and believe in my prayers that they will continue to provide the path to justice for me and my child.

Where a victim of such scandalous crimes was punished by our justice system as a criminal and not treated as a severe victim in need.

Some may recall that on 23rd December 2011 the establishment broke into my home yet again. In January my former GP wrote a report outlining the reasons why.

One of the reasons he cited is that my neighbours are planning to kill me. I cannot state too much, because of the Court case. Some weeks ago the prediction came true.  Prior to this attack a woman jumped me in the street screaming that I placed my only child in a tub of hot water burning all her legs. She called me some awful names; whilst scratching me on my face. In the end I had to fight back. When she was on the ground I walked off, then turned back and said my name and told her to remember me.

I reported the matter to the police, they wanted to come out straight away. I said no, explaining that if it was not for the police and social services none of this would have happened. The controller pleaded I refused. That was then and this is now. My attempted murder has opened my eyes. 

The planned attack on my life took place in my home. A Mr. Dean Jarvis forced his way into my home with an axe.  He and his friends ment business and they planned to leave no trace of themselves when they committed the deed.

I am not sure why I am still alive. If it was not for a special lock a friend placed on my kitchen door I would be dead for sure. Even when the lock saved me for a short while, I have come to accept the reason I did not run out into the street is, because I was scared as to what I would find outside. So I took the famous iron bar from under my child's bed, waiting, then I went downstairs and from then on the man and I put on a performance that put Zorro to shame. I spent approximately 45 minutes fighting off my attacker who had a very long axe; whilst others looked on. He never once went for any other part of my body, he was swinging at my head and neck.  None of you will ever know how scared I was. He was laughing. The only time he stopped laughing is when he was in the garden trying to hide how he entered my home from the rear.  When he knew that on this occasion the plan to kill me did not work he gave the axe to his mother and their good friend to hide the axe. Which they took and run.

At first I believed I would be dead shortly,so I spent time attempting to retain his DNA so when the police found my dead body they would have a lead. Mr. Dean Jarvis had it all worked out, no way was he having any of his DNA left on my body. When he eventually run off and I saw him in his garden attempting to put back the fence to cover his tracks. Hold on, I went out to the garden, I was so scared the police would not believe me and no way was I letting him hide the evidence. Guess what?
We had a fight in the end I succeeded and managed to drag part of the fence to my kitchen door. Ready for when the police came. Then I went in to call the police. There was no point calling before.  Mr. Dean Jarvis made sure that he had control and just looking in the direction of the telephone was pointless. He through me everywhere. There was a time I lost the iron bar and had only many hands to fend him off with.  I focused on the bar handle. Sometimes he dropped the axe and we would end up on the floor fighting to get it. When I was dying when I was 15 my uncle used all his power to save my life, this time I had no one apart from the word 'Love' spuring me on.
I am really hurt about everything. Four years since my child's abduction, four years fighting for justice, four years of being openly abused and then they come with an axe to kill me. A planned attack I am insulted!
Throughout the attack I had to think fast, even when my body and mind were exhausted. As we were fighting I even attempted to talk my way out of my murder by reasoning with Mr. Dean Jarvis. He was fighting to kill me and I was fighting for my life. Those who have been giving me emotional and mental support (VICTIM SUPPORT) keep saying how the hell did I think to act the way I did, because those very acts saved my life. None of them would have thought of doing these things.
There were many instances I believed I was just about to die. I kept seeing my child's face before me.

On the night of the attack I kept on asking the officers do they believe that I staged the attack. They replied no, but I kept on asking them one by one. Even as they kept on asking me questions I still kept on repeating the same question.  They had to show me Mr. Dean Jarvis sitting in the police car. then they said it is he we have arrested, not you. What a sad picture I did make. I was in shock.
 
I had met one of the officers twice previously, once when he and another officer told me to do nothing; whilst they hoovered up the mess of yet another smashed window and the other time was when the same officer stepped forward during the last forced entry to my home and said he helped me clear the mess of a broken window.  He did so with kindness.
I have had so many broken windows I lost count, but I remember the occasion he referred to well. The two officers were fabulous and arranged for the boarding up of the window in the wee hours of the morning.
To tell you the truth I was shocked when the officer stepped forward, because the people who took my child and retained her in care said I made it all up. They wrote that it is our fault that we are victims of racial harrassement.

I should be dead, but I lived against all odds. Northamptonshire Police Force are so happy that I did not die. They are happy that they are getting a result. Mr Dean Jarvis will appear in Northampton Magistrates' Court tomorrow. For some reason I do not share their joy. I am not angry with them or disappointed.  I am still coming to terms with the fact that Northamptonshire Police Force are making it clear that I am indeed the victim.  The Detectives keep on having to remind me that I am the victim, even having to point out the Court hearing, the bail conditions and I am the one staying put.  One Detective was so happy with the result she was laughing, then I started to laugh. I was not sure what I was laughing about, but it felt good. Then she reminded me that I did not die.  Once I said to the lady, you all are Detectives and this is C.I.D., this must be serious.  
If I my attempted murderer was successful many would have had to live with the knowledge that, because of a series of mistakes I was killed. I would not wish this on anyone, especially on my child.

In the meantime, I am so happy to be alive. I will be well and truly happy when my child and I are living together again. The past in behind us and we move on. This is what life is about, life is not a bed of roses and I bet our Majesty the Queen will agree with me.

Four years I have been fighting off the word victim and it is very strange now referring to myself as such. 



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    If my child finds this blog, she must never worry. I am not going anywhere.
    People need to understand, if it was not for my child I would be dead, I would have given up and Mr. Dean Jarvis would have killed me.

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