When my world went dark and smelled like poop ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

My parents have begged, bribed, and threatened me to write something on here. I've refused every time, and I can't really say why, because I myself don't know. I absolutely hate thinking about anything and everything having to do with it. There's so much pain that follows with it, and I can't deal with the overwhelming feeling of sadness, anger, fear, and hurt at once. I can talk about the surface of my dad's situation to people. I don't want anyone to know how I feel. That's why I hate having to write on this. I don't want anyone to watch over me and center their attention on me, when they could have more important things to take care of. I never told my mom how I felt, because I felt guilty telling her how I felt when she's juggling everything my dad had to. I never told my closest friends how I felt, I kept it close and bottled up. A journal seemed too risky and painful to pour out to. I truly didn't want to talk about it. And typing this, my hands shake, my heart pounds, and my eyes water. But here I am, here to tell my side, my emotions, me, through it all. (Cue the Dateline music)

I've known about this case since it started long ago. I knew what they wanted from my dad, and that it stressed him out severely. But, as time went on, I'd check in with my dad saying, "How's the case?" and he'd answer with "It's getting there." or, "Hopefully almost done!" and I'd just nod, kiss his forehead, and walk away. I remember asking another time, "Is it over?" and he looked up me smiling, and said, "Yeah, it's finally is done." I jumped into his arms and hugged him, happy that he could be at peace and (hopefully) take us to Mexico or DisneyWorld, because, at the time, I was a little more naive and spoiled enough to ask and want to go on a fun trip. But, it wasn't over.

In March of 2017, my family decided to go to cruise. My dad couldn't go because one of his employees was hurt in a car accident, and his new company, Spartan, was too 'young' to have an assigned guy to help out, my dad had to go. It was weird going on a trip without him, but we had fun and loved it anyway. Little did I know, criminal charges were pressed against him and he didn't know if he could go so he stayed home. Time is a funny little thing, and people suck.

On January 23, my dad pulled me and my brother, Jack, into his bedroom. He explained how the next morning, he'd be going to the courthouse to be sentenced, and how the whole thing was never over. He told us that he'd probably get probation or community service, but the worse-case-scenario he'd be put into jail. We were taken back, but only nodded and agreed to keep it quiet until he came home tomorrow afternoon to tell Navy and Lizza what happened. My dad told us to not be too confident, because it could go any way, and it was the judge's decision. I felt pretty cool-like a spy or something. I new this top secret information all of my family were staying in hotels, and no one was to know that they were here. I nodded and hugged my dad, and told him, "Everything happens for a reason. It'll be okay." and he pulled away and smiled, agreeing.

The next morning, all my siblings left for school, and I stayed behind to babysit my baby cousins. I told my friends that I had to babysit because my family had a huge business meeting. Not a lie, but not entirely the truth. I nervously watched the boys, waiting for my mom to call or text that she was on the way. But, my thoughts were interrupted when Ty, my younger cousin threw up on the floor. I quickly took him to the sink to let him yack up more, but he only began to cry and whimper. I took him into the tub and let him cool down, soon letting him watch a movie while I cleaned up. Ty began to walk around and play, with no sign of gagging or sickness. I smiled and began to do something, when I noticed the way he walked. He walked as if he was severely chaffed, his stance wide and awkwardly hobbling around. I slowly followed him, trying to come up with some explanation as to why he was walking like a freaking cowboy. Then, he sat down. His diaper made a squish, and a pool of (GRAPHIC) watery poop seeped out. I gagged and stood there, shocked. That's why he was walking so particularly. It was like a pool in his diaper, and he couldn't walk right while it sloshed  around. I carefully led him into the bathroom, and put him in the bath, again. The baby was asleep, at the house reeked, and we didn't have anything to get the stain out of the carpet. Defeated,  I sat on the floor, next to the brown, lumpy stain on the blue carpthinking, What else could happen? 

Then, my aunt Caytee walked in with my other aunt and uncle. Soon, more and more family members flooded in. Navy was severely confused, she had 0 idea why anyone would be here. I scurried around the house, giving people drinks and showing where the bathroom was. When I got the chance, I called my mom.

"Hey, where are you? Where's dad?"
"I'll be there soon, make sure all the kids are home, I love you."

I remember brushing it off, and busying myself with everyone in the house. Then, my mom walked through the door. I searched for the broad laugh or tall stature of my dad that would follow through the door, but no one came. Ignoring it, I sat down and talked to my family members. My mom was in and out of her room with different family members, quietly nodding and clutching to her phone. Then, my uncle, Bouk, stood in front of everyone and announced us to all be quiet. I sat down next to my other uncle, Peter, and listened. Navy was with Hailey, and my grandma sat next to Jack and Lizza. My mom stood to the side, holding my dad's ring and looking to the floor. Bouk began to tell us kids how much he loved us, and how much my dad loved us. He began to cry, as well as my Papa. He explained that we wouldn't be seeing my dad for awhile, and we're going to find out more as the next couple days go by. Jack and I silently cried, knowing what happened. Navy and Lizza sobbed loudly, confused as to why dad wasn't coming home.

I remember Peter holding me, but I don't remember much after. Voices were mumbled and distant. People hugged me and shuffled out, catching planes and rides back home. I got a text from my closest friends, Abby and Maddy Staffieri, and Hunter Hoff. They asked if I was ok and how I was, and I soon was driving over to their house. I took my dad's truck, and I couldn't breathe as I drove. His car smelled exactly like him, his candy wrappers and cologne sent a powerful, painful truth of everything that had happened. I quickly got out of the car and went to their door, soon being ushered into Maddy's room. When her bedroom door closed, we all sobbed. We cried and whimpered, so so heartbroken over it all. I sat there, crying and trying to talk things out with them as we all cried. I've never felt more loved and closer to these girls, I was so grateful for them to let me cry, and for them to cry with/for me. They hugged me and helped me for the next couple of weeks, keeping people away from me and checking in on me. I also called my other close friend, Gabby, and broke the news to her. She cried over the phone, so horrified, sad and frustrated. Throughout the months, she's always  keeping me in check and letting me rant to her. There are so many others that have blessed my life through this all, and I don't know when or how I'll repay you all.

Thinking about that day, and the couple weeks after feels like when you're overly exhausted. When all you want to do is sleep, but you can't because someone is talking, or you're in class, or you need to get something done. It's a dull and painful feeling, because all you want to do is sleep, or for it to be over. It was a painful lag in those months. Food wasn't tasteful, nothing was fun, and I would rather sleep than be with anyone. I'm slowly healing and adjusting. It is hard playing soccer and not having my dad cheering or yelling at me, or attending a dance and not having him to shake the boy down, or someone as big as him to cuddle with when I want. But I have so many other people to do that- my uncles, close family friends, other aunts, my mom, my friends, to help and support me. It sucks having to drive 4 hours to Rifle to see him, but to run to hug my dad and hear him make jokes makes me more and more OK with it all. I'm still not 100% happy, but I'm happy that he's OK, and that my family is OK, and that so many people have stepped forward to help. I'm counting down the days till he comes home so he can scold me for not running hard enough, or to scratch his head or to for him to send me soccer memes. Writing this all hurts, and I hate it, but soon I'll realize how good it was for me. Hopefully I'll never have to write, no offense (;  thank you.

- Maggie

Brandon Stephens, Weld County Jail, Wood Group, Sentenced, 5 Years, Prison, NFL, DRDC, Rifle Correctional Center, Colorado Department of Corrections, Jail, Judge Quammen, Steve Wrenn, Weld County, Executive, Oil, Gas, White Collar, Wood, BYU, Masters Degree, Colorado State University, SWIFT, Firefighter, Wildland, Sawyer, Fire, Inmate, Brandon Stokey, Miracles, Centennial Community Correctional Center, Delta Correctional Center, DRDC, Denver Diagnostic and Reception Center, Felony, Sallie Stephens, Greeley Tribune, Judge Thomas Quammen, DA Steve Wrenn, Weld County Court, Oil & Gas,. Halfway House, Centennial Community Correction Center, CCTC, Felon, 416 Fire, Silver Creek Fire, Spring Fire, Cabin Lake Fire