Original subtitles

One of the ways I measure my life now,

about once a year, I stop and I think

about where I'm at. Am I on the right

track?Here's the

question that I have to answer every

year. Is the life

I have now worth

having killed for it?

It's easy to look back and go, that was

the wrong choice.

People talk about

remorse and don't you feel bad about what

happened?Yeah, I feel bad

about what happened.

I didn't have what I

saw as a viable choice then.

I want people to realize that there is

bad all around them. Pay

attention to your world. Pay attention to

the people around you.

Evil lives everywhere.

Pay attention.

Every parent should be careful because

you don't know the lesson you're teaching

sometimes.

I don't think any child grows

up notfirst

feeling that their parents are theirgods.

I was betrayed by the gods of my

childhood.

These people were supposed to bring me

into the world, protect me, and

raise me so that I could function in it.

There were times life was

fantastic.

My father and I would take off and go

camping. When it was

just the two of us in that kind of

setting, everything was great.

It's probably about as close to happy as

I can remember.

Now, you see this lure?This is one of my

favorites. I've caught a lot of fish with

this lure. But

there was one time I said something that

he took as being a, you know,

smart-mouthed dancer. Get me that

sleeping bag, all right?I'll get it when

I'm done.

And the backhand came across.

You do what I tell you to do, boy. You

got it?Don't say

smart-mouthed things. You

back-talk, and I will hit you.

When I ask you to do something, you do it

right away. He was a

very... Large,

powerful person. A

backhand from him. That's not a love

tap. Not from him.

He thought of it as discipline.

But at the same time, there were times

we'd go out and everything's great, and

it never occurs to me that this is

anything other than my best friend.

When things are good, it's very easy to

forget the bad that happened, at least

for a little while.

My brother was never expected to do

anything.

My father invested all of his

effort in his number one son.

I got all of the attention.

But every year, the

discipline becomes worse,

and failure has constantly

increasing costs.

There was a time when my father

wanted me to vacuum up our dining room.

And somewhere along the line, I picked up

a little screwdriver, and I just put it

in my pocket. And while I

was vacuuming, the thing fell out of my

pocket. My dad came in to

see how the vacuuming went, and so

he's looking over the whole floor,

and he went absolutely

ballistic. Did you vacuum the whole

room?Yes. Really?

BecauseWell, what's this?How could I

possibly miss this screwdriver

sitting in the middle of the floor if I

had actually vacuumed the floor?

What's this?Huh

Off comes the belt, and...

you just start hitting. I

told you! Never lie to me!

Ever!Just losing control and

continuing to hit. You just don't

learn! Please stop! You think I wanna do

this?This is for your own good!

Don't lie to me! Ever! You wanna get

trust?Come

on!

For my mother, typically, once that

started, she would simply walk into

another room and wait. It would be

absolutely pointless for her to step in

between, because the only thing that

could happen at that point is her getting

hit. Ohh

But every time...

that I wound up

getting beat down.

Afterwards, there was my mother

making me feel better.

It was my mother who would, you know,

put a bandage on it or help with the

ice or, if necessary, take me up to

the hospital. She was

always comforting.

Just do what he says. Don't talk

back. You know,

encouragement on how to avoid it.

It was always me and my mother.

When I was in the 3rd grade, I failed

a spelling report

and rather than show my

dad this grade, which was kind of what

the school required, you have to take the

grades and get it signed off and bring it

back. I changed the grade or I forwarded

his signature. One of the two took him

back to school,

and shortly thereafter, the principal, of

course, dutifully got a hold of my father

and let him know what the problem was.

He was so mad. Not only did

I fail, but worse than

anything, I covered

it up and lied to him

and that.

Absolutely required punishment.

And it just kept

going until I couldn't stand there

anymore. He used me like a

freaking pinata. All

you really think about is just please

stop. Eventually he just

got out of breath and as to the heart and

got tired.

When my mother did get home, she put me

in a tub filled with ice and water

to try and get the you know swelling from

everywhere down.

He has to be stopped. Wouldn't it

just bebetter if he was dead.

Like how happy we would be.

It's okay. It's gonna be all right, okay?

'Cause you are

strong. HuhI'm sitting in the tub

of ice, and

I hurt, and...

I'm absolutely

hating my father.

And she's sitting there going, You've got

to do something about this. You can't

keep going through this. Wouldn't

it be better if he was dead?I don't think

how happy we would be.

I was in the third freaking grade.

How are you supposed to take that?

You're sitting there and... Anything

that's not numb from ice hurts.

It's not a big leap to go, yeah, it'd

be better if he was dead. Don't

go do this. The

suggestion in the tub, without a doubt,

changed everything for me,

because it took me from

just trying to survive what was happening

to trying to figure out how I could fix

the future.

You'll know what to do.

After the bathtub, we

sit down and had a little chat. Eric,

come here.

Come. She asked

the question, how?Can

we stop him?

And that's what solidifies,

in my mind, that I'm the

one that needs to do this. I'm the one

that needs to come up with a solution.

Have you thought of anything yet?How to

get rid of him?I don't know.

And so we went through

multiple scenarios and options.

She would ask, out of all the ways that

you could possibly kill him, what do

you think is the best way?

OK, what do you need

to do that?

Eric, I have a plan that I think

is really going to work.

took a lot of vitamins.

And, well, my mom found these plank

capsules that happened to resemble

several different kinds he had.

So she started packing them with

everything from rat poison to

Valium. You know, I

come in one time and she's just putting

them all together and refilling the

bottle.

After it's done, there

was the next few hours of kind

of being on edge because is it going to

work?Is it not?Is he going to figure it

out?He gets up and says,

you know, I feel dizzy or I'm

feeling sick.

Does he know?

The reason for helping

my mother, I was always

taught to believe that you're

supposed to

protect, defend, support your

family against anybody and

anything and if. My

definition of family seems a little

strange because it somehow excluded my

father. It excluded him

because he became the threat.

There were so many times that I walked in

and she was spiking something

from mashed potatoes to cans of tuna.

Go set this on the table.

Here, take this glass out to your dad.

Don't take a sip of that. And

then we would, you know, sit down at the

table, have dinner. But do you

use the gravy or what was it spiked with?

The mashed potatoes might be OK, but

what's that white there?

She went about trying to poison

him for

seven, eight years. To

keep doing that day in and day out

requires a lot of

patience and planning.

But I don't think he was ever

suspicious about his food was being

tampered with. I don't think it crossed

his mind that she could

possibly get the backbone to try and kill

him.

This just isn't working, Eric. It just

isn't doing it.

Every poisoning that fails,

there was always this push

for me doing something directly

and extreme. You have to find something

to end this problem permanently. The

poisoning was simply something so that

she could say, see, I'm doing what I can.

Why haven't you done what you're

supposed to?Step up, Eric.

When are you going to get the nerve to go

shoot him?

What's the problem?You have to do this.

You have to do this now. No

more stalling.

Why don't you hide behind the door so

that he doesn't see it coming?

The plan was to stay

behind where our door opened

and then when he came home, he would go

through and when the door closed, it

would give me a clear line of sight at

the back of

him. Standing behind that door, I was

absolutely terrified.

He comes home, goes through the door.

I couldn't move. This

isn't going to work.

Standing behind that door, I was

absolutely terrified. He

comes home, goes through the door.

I freeze up. I can't do anything.

He was so big. And the gun was

so small, pulling the trigger

and failing. That was a fear.

It's just complete and total

paralyzed right there.

And he goes in and lays down

on the couch to take a nap.

And I'm stuck

at this doorway.

And then trying to sneak out of there

when I finally hear him snoring.

And I remember talking to my mom

afterwards about that and her asking

what happened and me trying to explain I

just couldn't do it. Why not?

I don't know. I just couldn't do it. I

couldn't move. And

she basically just. talked me through

calming down and reassured me that it'd

be a better day tomorrow.

We'll do this. We'll do it together.

The pressure kept growing. If I'm gonna

be the man, then I

have to step up and protect them.

I'm the only one who can do something

about it. This eventually

reached a point where she winds up

telling me that if this doesn't happen,

that she's leaving and not coming

back until he's dead. She was going to

take her stuff gone, and we were going to

fend for ourselves with him.

On the night he died, it finally comes

down to she leaves

and.

Then there was a phone call.

I'm going to be back in about 10 or

15 minutes, and if he's not dead,

I'm leaving. That's dead.

I'm done.

My father was asleep on a couch

and I was standing

just a few feet back from his head.

Part of me, I want to just raise the gun

and pull the trigger and do this.

And another part is I'm just having a

real problem finding the ability to pull

the trigger.

Pulling that trigger is going to change

everything. And

then I see the light

and I know it's her car coming back.

I knew beyond a shadow of a

doubt at that point that if

he's not dead by the time she walks

through that door, I'm

choosing to be with him forever.

That's it.

I wound up pulling the trigger

after I pulled the trigger.

The door opened, and my

mom took the gun from me.

She did it. Stay there. Give it to

me. Give it to me.

She goes over to make

sure that he is dead.

Picks up the phones and calls the police.

She kept talking the whole time she was

getting ready for the police to arrive.

Say it. Have a

story and stick to it.

I found a gun. I tripped carrying it

into him. It went off. We

called the police. That was it.

And if I do that, then

there's nothing that they can put on her.

And in a worst case scenario.

I will go to Judy and get

out when I'm 18, because they

can't hold me as an adult. Good.

Yes. And I was willing

to pay that price for my mother, for

my brother,

so everything could go on

and have a good life. Good job,

big man. You did it.

The detective started questioning me.

Well, OK, look, I know this

is tough. Look, I-- was your

mom home when you shot your

dad?She was present for whatever

got said. No.

She arrived a few moments afterwards.

OK, I didn't really get the sense that

she was proud because I had killed him.

But later on that evening,

when the police finally had

to say it looks like this was an

accident, then

she was proud of me.

I had stuck with the plan.

How I felt after that was just

really numb and indifferent. It's

just, oh, that's over.

There was no guilt to it.

At that point, all I could really

see was that

what I needed to do had been done.

Did I know the difference between right

and wrong?Yes. Did I know

murder was wrong?Yes.

People talk about

remorse and don't you feel bad about what

happened?Yeah, I feel bad

about what happened.

I didn't. Have what I

saw as a viable choice that

I missed the good times I had with mydad.

I have to get up every day

knowing that.

I took out one of the most important

figures in my life.

And what I can do

is live my life

and make it a good one, because it cost

me a hell of a lot to get it.

So let's talk about-- Can we stop for

just a minute?Sure, sure, sureYeah,

definitely. She was always called

grandma. My mother

acted like she really liked Elaine.

She liked the same brand of cigarettes

that Elaine smoked. And they were

perfectly happy to sit there and sip on

Tom Collins together. There were never

any arguments.

I remember seeing her adding

something to a drink she was mixing.

What's going on?

Killing him should have been the turning

point of we're going to have a bright and

happy future after this.

The problem is she wouldn't,

couldn't, settle into

just having a nice life.

I had come in and startled her,

seeing her add something to Elaine's

drink. What are you doing?

I don't even remember what reason she

gave me why Elaine needed to

die. Listen,

Eric, your father wasn't the only

person in this world who deserves a

little punishment. I

didn't care what the reason was. There's

just no reason that she could give that

would make it OK. My father

was an obvious, imminent physical

threat.

Elaine could never have become a threat.

She wouldn't put her own neck on the line

for this. If I wasn't there to pull the

trigger, nothing else could happen. She'd

just be spinning her wheels.

Once I came to the conclusion that, well,

if I'm not here, nothing can happen.

It becomes a simple matter of what

is my way out.

So I decided to join the Navy.

I didn't even make it through boot

camp before

it all started becoming unraveled.

I wind up calling home.

I said hello, and the next thing I'm

hearing is there was an accident.

What?Your brother and I need your help.

I need to come home. Now?Yes,

right away. We need you.

Elaine's dead.

I tried. To get away

so that it couldn't happen.

And I failed to

take into account the fact that

she was just going to get my brother to

do it.

I don't know what exactly my mother had

told him, but I'm sure that

she probably had conversations with him

like she did with me to, you know,

scoot him in that direction.

Now what do we do?

When I get out of boot camp and I finally

do get home, me and my

mother go downstairs and she

shows me the freezer.

There's there's these chains going around

and big padlock with a key

and she's got to take all this stuff off

to open it up.

But she finally gets the thing open, and

there's a freezer full of

garbage bags.

40 bags of grandma.

What the ?

What the hell is wrong with you?

This mess is your fault, Eric.

She tried to throw back at me that

the reason the situation had spiraled

into this is because I wasn't there to do

it. So my brother had to do it.

And what was I going to do about it now?

We're all in this together, Eric. So

solve this problem.

The only thing I could think to tell her

was try and keep everything calm.

Make it look like Elaine is alive and

well on a vacation somewhere or

something. And

don't do anything else to attract

attention.

I still don't have any idea what to

do about the body. I don't care

how you fix it, big man.

Just fix it.

All I wanted at that point was to just

get away.

Pack up the truck and away I go.

Round about Tennessee,

I'm smelling something bad.

There's an ice chest

with a rather familiar

looking bag inside of it.

I'm carrying a body across the country.

She put the chest in there. Not

even any warning. It's just

surprise.

Yeah, it's not like I can dump this in a

garbage somewhere or bury it.

The only thing I could think to do was

hold on to it so nobody else finds it.

So I just keep going to San Diego.

So I'm going down the highway and

all of a sudden I see lights come on

and this cop is pulling me over

and he starts going back to.

you know, take a look at everything,

because that's what troopers do. They're

going to look for something unusual.

He starts to go on about what's in the

chest. And

now I have crossed

the line. He's either going to kill me or

I'm going to kill him.

What am I supposed to do?

This cop is pulling me over.

What's in the cooler?

Not much.

All right, well, I'm gonna go take a

look. All of this is

now blown up, and it's about

to hit the fan.

I am, at that point, more than willing to

get rid of him. and stop this from

happening. There is no

turning back when you're that far in.

And a speeder comes by.

I just blew the doors off of everything.

The trooper abandons the hole,

investigate what's wrong with me and

takes off after the speeder.

Great.

This is good. I'm just going to get down

the road before that trooper comes back.

When I got out to San Diego, I

rented a storage unit

and put the ice chest in a storage unit.

There was this period for a couple of

weeks where there actually wasn't any

contact with my mother.

So I I kind of thought that

things were leveling out. It was getting

safe.

Then my mother shows up.

We had to come, Eric. You have no idea

what's happening at home. They keep

asking questions. Where is Elaine?When is

she coming back?Your brother is scared

out of his mind. She couldn't keep

stalling people and telling them that,

you know, Elaine's on vacation.

Everything is completely falling apart.

One of the relatives finally called the

police.

Well, it just so happens that they

wound up getting in touch with the same

detective who had investigated my

father's death,

and nothing ever sat well with him.

He started digging into it. This is on

you, Eric. You have to help us. If we go

down, you go down. OK. At that

point, I was ready to

abandon the Navy and run like

hell. Now, Eric, we're leaving now. Go.

Well, that's me.

And that's my mother in the background.

Right behind me,

whispering in my ear. Don't tell them

anything. Don't cooperate.

Just stay silent and

see how it plays out.

So I, of course, didn't cooperate with

them.

We got split up almost immediately.

My brother started talking

probably within an hour of beingarrested,

but I can't really blame him for it. I

mean, he was, he was a

15 year old kid looking at going to

prison for more than half of his life.

So he said whatever they wanted him to

say

and my mother.

She had the best attorney she could

arrange and was dumping

everything on my head.

But at that point it

still hadn't occurred to me that maybe I

should cut a deal, maybe I should

cooperate.

When I was a child, I promised

that I would see this through. I

promised that I would be the one to take

the fall and

trying to convince me even

7-8 years later that I need to break

that promise. That

was not an easy thing.

And that was that

was probably one of the hardest choices I

ever made.

I'm never going to say it's my mother's

fault that I shot my father,

because in the end,

I made a choice.

She has to deal with the choices that she

made. She's the one that had the

grudge. She's the

one that wanted them dead.

There she is. That would be my

mother. I

haven't seen a picture of her in 20

years. She looks like she's getting

old now, and they're going to

look at those eyes and go, it's just a

sad old lady.

That is not a sad old lady. That's a

scheme waiting to happen.

The body may be getting old. The hate

goes on. She's not reformed.

She's not rehabilitated. She

doesn't think of herself as evil.

But look at everybody that was

associated with her. Her

children both wound up going through

prison. Her husband's dead.

There wasn't anybody in her life that

wasn't one of her victims.

We all paid varying cost. Some paid with

their lives, but

everybody paid something.