Alright, I'll just start from the very beginning.

I was around 12 years old when this happened.

I'm 33 now, but thinking about what happened that night still gives me goosebumps.

For context, I think I should mention that I grew up on a very large farm in the middle

of nowhere in southern Idaho.

It wasn't in the mountains like it might be thinking.

It was just grass and hills for miles.

My mom and dad were both raised in big cities, so when they got married, they figured they

give their kids more of a farm life to grow up in.

And I always loved it.

We had goats, chickens, ducks, turkeys.

You name it, we had it.

The only thing it didn't have was much more freedom from my parents.

My dad was a goat farmer and his job was working on the farm.

A sold goat milk made cheese and of course sold the meat.

My mom was just to stay at home mother, so she was also around all the time, which basically

meant I had no alone time and no privacy.

When I was little, I didn't mind much.

I loved having my parents around.

I held my dad with the farm work and taking care of all the animals, and I was always in

the kitchen baking and cooking with my mom.

But by the time I reached middle school, I was ready to grow up and I guess do whatever

...