Click here for “The Girl of My Dreams—Part I?

I’ve walked into scenes spattered with blood before and not been shocked—reason being that when someone has been beaten to death with a hatchet it’s natural to walk in expecting to see some blood. But this scene was nothing like that. Not a drop of blood, and yet I was shocked nonetheless.

The bedroom itself appeared as though a laundromat had exploded. There were clothes scattered everywhere with the exception of two places. The first was an area on the full size bed that had been cleared just enough for an adult to sleep. The second was an area of floor in the corner of the room with one of the large round cushions that are available at any pet supply store. The fact that it was made for a large animal to sleep on didn’t discourage the girl’s caregivers from concluding it was an appropriate spot to place a child needing special care.

I understand that not everyone in this world can afford a crib or a bed and that some people have to make do or improvise. If that were the only issue, it could have easily been overlooked.

But it wasn’t.

The girl was lying face up in the center of the cushion. Scattered around the perimeter of the cushion and the room were dozens of empty cans of Pediasure that—when used with the tiny funnel and syringe that was present—were apparently administered through the girl’s feeding tube.

I snapped a few distant photos and as I stood counting the empty cans, one of the technicians asked, “What’s with all the baby powder??

He was referring to the white powder that had been scattered all over the girl and the pad as though she had been dusted with powdered sugar like a pastry. As I knelt down in the garbage next to the pad I noticed a small canister that was different from the Pediasure cans. Examining the canister I realized the baby powder was actually lice powder and a closer look at the girls head confirmed the presence of insect activity on her scalp.

During the entire external exam, it felt like there were bugs crawling all over my forearms. Thankfully, it was just my imagination. Part of me wanted to find some sign of trauma so I could at least go home knowing that the little girl’s parents would spend the night in jail. I borrowed the cleanest baby blanket I could find and spread it out on top of the cans, diapers, and clothing and wrapped the little girl inside.

I exited the house with the lieutenant, gave the funeral home the go ahead to remove the body, and asked the lieutenant to introduce me to the family. At this point I was simply going through the same routine I always did with families: introduce myself, let them know what I’m doing there and where their loved one is going, and answer any questions they have at that time. If I hadn’t just been going through the motions, God only knows what I would have said to them.

After giving them one of my cards, the lieutenant walked with me back to my car.

“Do you think we ought to call Homicide out?? he asked.

“No. But if you’re not going to call Child Welfare, I damn sure am.?

“They’re on their way,? he assured me.

I got in the car and headed home, scratching my forearms from time to time.


13 Responses to “”

  1. 1 piper
    February 20, 2006 at 11:53 am

    omg! I firmly believe some people have NO RIGHT being a parent, free country or not-grrr. spay and neuter!

  2. 2 Heather
    February 20, 2006 at 12:22 pm

    Ack. What happened to the parents — surely they’re not going to get away with what looks to be neglect?

  3. February 20, 2006 at 6:23 pm

    Jesus. That one’ll stay with you.

  4. February 20, 2006 at 10:48 pm

    Thank you for continuing this. I keep looking back. What a sad story. What happened? I guess that will be coming, right? Right. Okay.

  5. February 21, 2006 at 4:09 pm

    I hope there is a special place in hell reserved for people who would do this to a child. I have a two and a half year old little girl and my heart just broke to think that a little bub would have such an awful, awful existence.

  6. 6 Judy Chant
    March 4, 2006 at 5:21 am

    We are quick to judge. Ask yourself Why were the parents tube feeding the child? Why was the house in such a state? Was there no other person who entered that house during the child’s life who noticed the state of house? Why did the parents not seek help from social
    services? Were they mentally capable of caring for a child by themselves? And a host of other variables…

    True some people make very poor parents. Unfortunately
    it is not always apparent before the pregnancy occurs.

    Paedophiles of either gender deserve much worse than these parents.

  7. 7 mendi-la
    March 10, 2006 at 12:03 pm

    this is off the scope of most comments but i’m curious about the lice – at my previous job, we were required on occasion to euthanize small animals. the moment they would expire, the insects that lived on them would leave like rats on a sinking ship. do you know why the lice stayed after the child had been dead for what appears to be some time?

    i am also sickened that a person would have to live and die in such neglect – it pulls me back to reality

    i enjoy your blog – keep it up 🙂


    I didn’t do a liver stick (it seemed like adding insult to injury at the time), but I do recall that the child was still warm, so I don’t think she’d been dead for very long. I’m not sure why they wouldn’t have left as quickly as you described. Maybe it was the lice powder that was spread around the area, or they were afraid of getting their asses kicked for moving onto the roaches turf.

    Thanks for the comment and the feedback.

    A Douglas

  8. March 11, 2006 at 3:14 am

    I have so many mixed feelings when I read this. I have been in more than one home just like you described and seen kids with heads of lice, dirty clothes, rotten food, etc etc. It’s so easy to condemn the parents and say what bad people they are (unlike us, of course, who are really, really good people) as we are careful not to allow ourselves to be tainted with their poverty and hopelessness. But I wonder if even one person would lift a finger to change all that except to dial child protection….like that does a lot of good to change these situations–If you believe that, you are bloody dreaming my friends! Just ask Sherry Charlie here in BC…but then you can’t. Because she’s dead. Thanks, child protection.

  9. March 11, 2006 at 5:49 pm

    wow. Disturbing story, well-written. Your blog is fascinating.

  10. 11 Lori
    March 21, 2006 at 8:17 am

    I know you have a life and everything but it’s been a month since you posted Part II. What’s the rest of the story?

  11. 12 stoned_sour87
    March 27, 2006 at 12:13 pm

    That was a disturbing story. Im 18 yrs. old and have a 2 1/2 year old daughter. I can’t give her all of the extras right now but i give her what she needs. People like that need to be spayed or nudered.

  12. March 27, 2006 at 3:22 pm

    Until you got the pediasure and lice powder (and the dead child, of course) it sounded like my dorm room. I’m much better now.

    How sad that this is all she knew of this world.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: