murder in the mountains, killed by her own son

My name is Brittany. My Aunt Martha, my own little Paula Dean, was murdered by her own son.

She was the sweetest soul to exist, you can ask anyone who had ever met her. She was always cooking you something, telling you a story, and making you feel right at home if you were around her.

She loved her own son unconditionally, and to her own demise. On March 6th, 2024, she was in the kitchen making her sweet little son (that stupid motherfucker) a sandwich when she asked him to take the dog out to potty. You see, Will had been struggling with drugs for a while.. meth. He came through the house and walked up to his mom while saying “I’m going to kill you, you fucking bitch” and meets her in the kitchen. He then pulls a grilling fork (2 prong meat fork) and a small pairing knife from the cabinet and proceeds to start stabbing her- in the face. He ripped her tongue from her mouth below her chin and proceeded to stab her eyes out with the fork. Brutal, it was brutal.

As the commotion started happening, my dad just happened to be sitting on the couch. Aunt Martha begins to fall backward into the living room and dad is rushing to her as fast as he can. Mind you, my dad is already older and in poor health. Dad pushes Aunt Martha towards the couch to get my cousin off of her and Will begins to attack him. The struggle proceeds outside as my cousin stabs my dad multiple times in the face and chest and attempted to rip his tongue out as well. Dad is yelling for help when a sweet neighbor came to help. My cousin sees that others are now watching, steals my dad’s keys and phone and proceeds to steal my dad’s car to flee the scene.

A local manhunt underway.

(This is the part where I find out and begin calling hospitals to find where my dad and Aunt Martha may be. )

I found them. They’re still alive.

Who knew that hospitals go on lockdown when the criminal is on the loose? And they can’t legally tell you if someone is there? After much finagling, I finally found them. (You would think my Grey’s Anatomy knowledge would have kicked in, but it truly didn’t and I needed it.)

They found that stupid piece of shit, I just happen to be related to at a random house. I can only assume one he usually buys drugs from… he came out ready to be arrested. The detective let me know that my cousin (that I was very close to as a child and loved dearly) was being charged with two counts of attempted 1st degree murder.

What even is life? Am I really the “next of kin” to everyone involved in this mess? I hadn’t seen my father in 17yrs and now I’m on the phone with the hospital as they tell me his lungs were filled blood and he has multiple stab wounds.

Aunt Martha. How is Aunt Martha?! She’s in stable condition, getting some sutures. In my head.. she’s going to be fine. I love Aunt Martha, no way this is how she is leaving this world after having multiple heart surgeries and even the wrong blood type put back in her when she delivered her one and only child.

Her one and only child she spent nearly 15yrs trying to get pregnant with. Just like me, Aunt Martha had infertility. Finally, she got her positive test when she was 35yrs old. She delivered Will prematurely at just 24 weeks.

That was 39 years ago. A miracle that asshole even made it.

Her sweet little baby had stabbed her, multiple times, and she’s in the hospital.

What a lot to process.

I knew I had to get home. Back to those mountains. Back to the Appalachians.

I booked flights and arrived 2 days later. I had been talking to Aunt Martha along the way and FaceTiming her. She was doing well. She looked so beat up but in such good spirits. Breaks my heart what he did to her. Aunt Martha always had her hair done and her makeup on no matter what she was doing. She cared about appearance and to see her in that shape- gut wrenching.

I get to the hospital the next morning (Saturday) when visiting opened. Aunt Martha looked a little more drained today than she had just 12hrs prior. She greets my brother from the hospital bed calling him handsome and winking. I walk up and hold her hand as they’re doing an IV. It’s obvious she’s in pain.

My mom walks in the room to visit with us both since I just got into town. Even though Aunt Martha is her ex-husbands sister, they still have a great relationship. We even lived with Aunt Martha and Will for a while in my teens while Mom was getting a house together after yet another family crime that happened when I was in 7th grade. Aunt Martha is awake and talking, and asking me if I’m going to go see my dad. She asked more than once, she seems really worried.

In these moments, I’m willing to do anything to make my Aunt Martha happy. I agree to go see my dad in another room. I kiss Aunt Martha, tell her I love her and that I’ll be back. I ask my brother to go with me to see my dad, and I asked my mom to stay with Aunt Martha. Besides, I didn’t think my dad would want our 17yr reunion to be happening with his ex-wife and in a hospital gown. Down to Dad’s room me and Bubba went…

We talked it out. I was proud I didn’t cry. I walked away with peace. My brother and I were in there for 18 minutes. We walked back to Aunt Martha’s room and upon walking in, it’s clear she’s in distress. You see, Aunt Martha had a minor brain bleed. They thought it wasn’t much to worry about. Being a heart patient, Aunt Martha needed blood thinners and they couldn’t give them without a neurosurgeon on staff. They had talked about transferring her right before I went downstairs.

Transferring wasn’t happening; she was dying. I walk up to her bed as my mom is yelling at me to “hold open her mouth that’s the only way she can breathe”. Aunt Martha glares her eyes at me without moving her head, opens her eyes really wide, her head fell back further, and she passed away.

They ran the code. I stood in the doorway and watched until my brother drug me away. “You don’t need to see this, Britt.” Bubba said. We went to the family room where we listen to the code blue be announced. I was pleading. Why?! Why is this happening?! She’s literally the best person on this earth. I see her doctor crying walking up to the room. She was gone. I just needed to hear it.

Dr. Clark choked up the words “let’s go to her brother’s room”. I pleaded the whole way there for her to just say it. We arrived in Dad’s icu room as I was literally screaming crying. Dad turned his head to the side and said “I know all I need to know” and began falling apart as well. Pleading with himself screaming “I tried to save her. I tried to save her.” Dr. Clark is part of the family now. She is crying right along with us, what a horrific scene. Dr. Clark then looks at me and says “I need to know if I can let them stop cpr”. I fell apart even more.. Aunt Martha would have never wanted life support. She would have never wanted to see what was about to happen to “her baby”. He killed her. That motherfucker actually killed her. “You can ask them to stop” I choked up.

Here’s my mom, my dad, and my brother all in one room for the first time in 29 years. We are all mourning. All at a loss. Just lost.

She didn’t deserve to go out this way. Addiction caused this. He never was right since addiction and relapsing and addiction and relapsing. Meth took my Aunt Martha away.

One of the craziest parts to this story is the fact of while I was in my dad’s room visiting, Aunt Martha asked my mom twice if I was visiting with my dad, to which my mom reassured her. After the second time, Aunt Martha then murmured something my mom thought sounded like “brother”.

“Brother?” mom said. “No, mother. I see my mother.” Aunt Martha said. Just no time after is when I arrived in the hospital room and she took her final breaths. She waited for me. Waited for me to say I would reconcile with my dad, and waited for me to get back to take her final breath.

The detective called to let me know that my cousin is now being charged with 1 count of attempted first degree murder and 1 count of 1st degree murder. Her body would be going to forensics, and I need to make arrangements.

She loved me and I loved her. She was the best.

But I was supposed to be arriving to get her house ready to come home to.

To take care of her for the next few months.

To clean up a crime scene and prep for her and now my dad as well to come home. Instead it turned from me having to clean a crime scene and clean out her home.

To replay exactly how her body fell, and where my dad came into play.

I now have my dad I feel I have to take care of as well now. He had a very valid “excuse” if you will for not talking to me the past 17yrs. Although I can’t go into great detail, let’s just say his line of work could have made me a target to be killed.

In the midst of all of this happening, he lets me know he has cancer. He had been staying between Aunt Martha’s and a friend’s house between cancer surgeries. The first time speaking with my dad, he had said he wasn’t going to get radiation for his cancer even though the cancer is in multiple organs. He said he didn’t want to be “a crispy piece of bacon”. You see.. I get my humor honestly and my life is making so much sense all while falling apart.

Dad is now without an actual home, has changed his mind and wants to receive treatments, all while there is the financial burden of losing a loved one to a violent crime. You know what isn’t cheap? Dying, Crime scene cleaning, and therapy. I want to be able to help my dad while giving Aunt Martha the proper send off. I want to have her a memorial “party” like she would always want along with being able to scatter her ashes where she wanted.

Aunt Martha meant so much to me, and clearly me taking care of my dad meant so much to her that she was willing to die about it. Help me, help them. I don’t have all the means but I have all the heart. Truly, you never think it’s going to be your own family you’re writing all of this about. Drugs are a problem people can’t get proper help for and they often lead to other mental issues. You never, ever, think it’s going to be your family. Give some or give none. Maybe give someone some advice and tell our story and let someone else know they’re not alone if struggling with someone addicted to drugs they’re close to. That killer isn’t the cousin I knew, he’s been gone many many years to addiction.

Aunt Martha had a dog I’m still trying to find a home for. She needs a good farm to live on and some training. Someone who Aunt Martha just happened to steal her heart only a bit before passing has taken in Zoey temporarily. Although I’m hoping she decides to keep her I still want to provide her with some money for training, vetting and such.

It’s just a lot, honestly. A lot of money..

Aunt Martha didn’t have insurance (she had multiple health issues and had money put back that her son eventually stole). She didn’t have renters insurance, she didn’t have a burial plan, and honestly she didn’t plan on dying. Who does?

Thanks for hearing me out and letting me know “cry on your shoulder” for a bit. We are going through it to say the least.