Two years ago last July, a family friend abused my boys. They were 7 and 4 at the time. My precious children were witness and victim to his sick fantasies. Truthfully, I wanted to take justice into my own hands and blow the MF'ers brains out. I'm not sure what influenced my decision NOT to procede with this form of justice. I was really really angry, I'm still angry. I feel a tremendous sense of guilt for putting them in that situation. Deep down, I know it's not my fault. There were no signs that my children would become his prey. If there had been, I never would have left them in his care. Two weeks ago, the pervert was dealt his punishment by the courts. He was sentenced to 2 years in prison, 5-20 years of parole and lifetime registration as a sex offender. Justice has been served, but I don't feel satisfied. I still want to blow his brains out. In fact, I made my husband sell his gun so I wouldn't be tempted to use it. My oldest son, now 10 has been diagnosed with PTSD and I suffer from depression. The mixture of our ailments could set off WW III. Some part of me still feels like my form of justice would have been the right path to choose, even if I ended up in prison instead of the creep. Life sure doesn't make sense to me.