01x05 - The Child I Thought I Knew

[bunniefuu]

[producer] If it's OK with you,
I don't know how long it's been,

but would we be able to talk
and play the 911 call with you?

Not with me here.

[producer]
OK, can you tell me why?

No, I will not listen to
the 911 tape.

I've heard it,

but I don't allow myself
to be hurt like that anymore.

[Charity]
When I listen to that 911 tape,

one, I go right back
to that night.

Hearing his voice and knowing,
like, hearing him lie.

I don't want to hear
the fake crying

and everything
because all it does,

and you can probably
already tell,

is it brings back
the rage from...

that first moments of learning
who he is as a person.

They brought her out
of the house,

and I kept telling her,
"I'm so sorry. I didn't know.

I had no idea."

There was nothing I could do
except sit there

and just fall apart
and lose everything.

[Charity]
From the moment that
Paris k*lled Ella,

I had to become
a divided mother,

because up until that point...

it never felt wrong to love
either one of my children.

Nobody prepares you for...

when it's the two people
you love most

in the world,
and one kills the other.

What do you do then?

[The Paper Chase's "What's So
Amazing About Grace?" plays]

[static crackling]

[strings continue
playing sinister tune]

-[knock at door]
-[creaking]

-[banging on door]
-[creaking]

-[banging on door]
-[creaking]

-[banging on door]
-[fire crackling]

[sinister chord strikes]

[Charity]
So this is my office.

And, um...
well, it's just

maybe an extension of
my personality.

Artwork by my kids.

These are all letters
between Paris and I.

And for the first four
or five years,

I mean, he wrote
all the time.

Long, long letters.

So this is really old
and dirty,

but this is Paris' footprint
from the day that he was born.

It is just so amazing to me,
you know,

to think that they go
from this tiny little thing

to whatever they grow up to be.

I miss that Paris.
I would love nothing more

than to have that Paris back.

But, um...

you know, I try not to spend too
much time thinking about that.

It's never going to happen.

So this is Paris, probably
around 26 or 27 years old.

It's almost like whatever
expression

he has on his face
and stuff,

it just never makes it
to his eyes.

He's just very calm
and placid.

That's what I think of
when I think of Paris.

Cold lakes with dark bottoms.

Do I think I ever knew
the real Paris?

No.

I think I know more
of the real Paris now.

But at that time,
I had no concerns

that he was going to become
who he is now.

So, the only thing
that I've ever been

able to tell parents
over the years is,

you are not alone and that it's,
you know, OK to talk about it

and deal with it
for the rest of your life.

If you really think about it,

Paris saved me,

but he wasn't born to be
my savior.

Just like he destroyed me,

but he wasn't born to be
my destroyer, right?

I mean, for sure,
over the years,

that's been a very hard
contradiction to hold onto,

the fact that...

the first person that I ever
loved that much did that, yes.

So that's when I got,
like, sober.

I had a purpose.

When Paris was born,
I had no idea that there was

an actual real love like that,

but I had dreamed about it
my entire life...

hoping that it was real.

Like, I had never seen anything
so perfect in my life.

I told him I have no idea
what the hell I'm doing,

but I promise
I will always love you

and I will always be there
for you no matter what.

I saw it as a new chapter,

and, well...

stories don't always go the way
you want them to.

When Paris was young
and I had to go to work

or go to class,
I would take him to,

you know, his daycare center.
And he was always fine.

He would, you know,
give me my hug

and go and play
and all of that stuff.

And then I would come back.

That moment where
he would turn around

and see me, like no matter
what he was doing,

he would turn around
and he would see me

and his face would light up
and he'd be like, "Mom!"

And run across the room
and jump into your arms.

When your kid looks
at you like that,

that is like,
the best feeling

in the whole wide world.

Like, I just love that feeling.

I can still remember
that feeling.

But he laughed a lot.
He was a goofy kid.

He wasn't dark or troublesome.

He was just a kid
who seemed happy.

No signs of anything, right?

I had nothing.
Nothing.

Paris was with me
the day I found out

I was pregnant with Ella.

He was playing with this LEGO
that he had built.

And when the doctor came in
and she was like,

"Oh, congratulations,
you're having a baby,"

he dropped it and it just
shattered everywhere.

[plastic clinking]

Paris hated it.

He was not a happy camper.

Mostly it all boils down to,
"I don't want to share my mom."

So the day Ella was born,
he came into the room.

And I was so worried,
I was like,

"Oh, please let this go well."

And then he saw Ella.

"Do you want to hold her?"

And he was like, "Yeah."

And he took her,
and he looked down at her.

And then he looked up
at me,

and he had this look
on his face.

And he was like, "Oh, Mama."

He said, "She is beautiful,
I love her."

And I'm like, "Oh, thank God.
Oh, thank God."

[Paris]
You're not going to talk to me?

[singing]
Ella Lee, talk to me.

[Charity]
He fell in love immediately.

I saw it happen on his face.

And it really, really, really...

felt authentic to me.

Clap!
Yay!

After he was arrested,
there were still times

when I walked into
that prison...

that for a half second,
maybe an eighth of a second,

maybe less...

I'd still get that look
from Paris.

And then everything
that had happened

would come between us.

And then I remember
my son is a psychopath.

He m*rder*d his sister.

[Charity]
When everything first happened,
there was no way I could look

at pictures from the past.

But now when I look at
these pictures,

you know, I can look
and I see Paris,

and I remember the moment
and everything.

But all the memories have
a little bit of sadness in them.

That's how I feel when I look
at all these pictures.

So this picture of
Paris and Ella was taken

not long after Ella was born.

I think it's pretty obvious
from the picture,

He is no longer
the child that

does not want anything to do
with a pregnancy

or a little sister.

It was a complete 180,

I mean, and it happened --
[snaps fingers] --

instantaneously.

And, you know, they would just
hang out together.

He would talk to her,
play with her.

Ella, Ella.

[Charity]
He really enjoyed Ella.

I don't remember at any point
in time ever feeling worried

with Paris around Ella.

It's like people think
that I sat

and watched Paris turn
into a psychopathic monster

over the years
and never did anything

to save my daughter.

And, you know, they're...

They're wrong.

He was a really good
big brother.

[Paris] Ella!

[Charity] I immediately saw
what I thought

was a good sibling relationship.

I remember Ella got colic,

and for like three months,
Ella is just screaming.

And she had this toy
plastic phone.

She could, like,
push the buttons on,

and it had, like,
princesses would talk to you.

And Paris figured out that

if he put this phone up
to her ear

and he kept the thing ringing,

that she would lay there with
this phone ringing

and be like...
[snores]

He took it upon himself

to keep the phone up there
and keep pushing

the button so she'd be happy.

I remember thinking, what
an amazing big brother

that he is willing to do that
for his sister.

Well, I asked him if
he remembered it.

I said, "Do you remember
that time?"

I said, "It's little things
like that, Paris,

"that make it so hard for me
to understand

why you k*lled your sister."

And he laughed.
And he said,

"Yeah, I remember that."

He said, "You know what
I was honestly thinking?"

He said, "I remember thinking,

'why won't she just
shut the F up?'"

And that is not
what I saw at all.

-What do you have to say, Ella?
-[babbles]

[Charity]
I saw a big brother

helping his sister feel better.

I never thought that he was
going to hurt anybody.

But then again,
I learned after Paris

that we don't really
know anybody

like we think we do.

You know, even the people
closest to us,

we don't know what's going on
inside their head.

I don't think I knew...
that Paris.

I think that all children
have a point

where they realize for
the first time

that their parents
aren't godlike.

They're human.

So I think it was almost like
culture shock, maybe,

because Paris had never seen

the addict part of
my personality.

I mean, he saw me acting
erratically, and impulsively.

It had to have been
hard for him.

He was starting to isolate more.

I mean, he became moodier.

And it -- it -- it got --
it got pretty ugly.

So one day,
I asked Paris to sit down,

and I'm like, trying to have
a conversation with him.

And the entire time that
I'm trying to have

a conversation with him,

he's just looking at me,

no expression
on his face, deadpan.

And he's going,
"b*tch, wh*re, sl*t, [bleep].

b*tch, wh*re, sl*t, [bleep]."

Just repeating it
over and over and over

while I'm trying to talk to him.

Never seen him talk to me
like that before.

But when I would try to be like,
"Listen, I get it, you're mad.

That's a little much.
Like, I am still your mother."

He didn't care.
He lost all respect for me.

I had never seen him act
like that before.

I definitely believe that
my relapse played a role...

in what he did to Ella.

But I never still,
through all of that,

would have thought he had
homicidal thoughts.

He hid it pretty damn well.

I was running late for work
because Ella was in the bathtub.

The sitter was in there
with her,

and she kept saying to me...

She kept saying to me,

"Just one more hug, Mama.
Just one more kiss."

She's wet, you know.
I've got dressed for work.

She's all wet.

And I'm like, "OK."
So I give her a hug and a kiss.

And I'm like, "Eh, that'll dry
before I get to work."

And I go to, like, leave.

And she's like, "Wait, wait.

Just one more hug,
one more kiss."

I think she did that, like,
three or four times.

But, you know,
I wasn't gonna give up

the opportunity to hug her.

It didn't matter that
my work shirt was soaking wet.

And I'm so glad now
that I gave her...

every single one.
That I was late, that I was wet.

Yeah, because that's the last
time I ever got to do that.

He was angry with me
when I left for work.

Paris?

[Charity]
I remember giving him a hug

next to the front door.
And I remember telling him,

"I know you're mad at me
right now,

"and you don't want to
talk to me.

"Just remember, I love you,

and we can get
through anything together."

And he was just looking at me,
just that calm, cold stillness.

When I left, he had already
made up his mind

to k*ll somebody.

[Charity] The first year,
I didn't really go out at all.

Way too much anxiety.

Panic attacks, crying.

I mean, I could not hold myself
together in public.

There was the depression.
There was the rage.

I mean, guilt was really,
really, really heavy on me

for the longest time.

I mean, it's been 18 years,

and I still don't really enjoy
being in public.

You know, when I see
a brother and sister

that look like they're about
the same age difference,

I look at them
and I think to myself,

what the hell happened?

I'm her mom, you know,
I was supposed to protect her.

And I didn't.

Still, at this point,

I mean, it doesn't --
it doesn't ever go away.

They asked me to sit down.

And at this point,
I'm so worked up.

They're like,
"Your daughter has been hurt,"

is what they told me.

So as a mom, when you hear
your child has been hurt,

you don't want to sit around
and hear anything else.

I said, "Take me to
my daughter now."

And then they said,
"Well, she's dead."

And at that point,

I just remember losing
consciousness, blacking out.

And then I remember
processing in my mind,

"Well, if Ella's hurt,

and she's gone, they haven't
said anything about Paris."

Like, where's Paris?

And then that's when
they tell me

that they had Paris in custody
because he was the one

who m*rder*d
his little sister.

And at that point...

the only thing
I can really remember

is I felt like...

they made no sense.

I remember feeling like
I just had to get out of there.

I just had to get to my kids.

I jumped in my car,
and I took off.

And they're all following me
home and I --

hm -- [stifles voice].

I drove up to my house.

[exhales heavily]

I haven't talked about this
in a long time.

There are, um...

media vans all over the road.

And, um...

they brought her
out of the house.

And as soon as they brought
the stretcher out of the house,

then I saw her...

in that bag.

I lost my hearing.

I didn't hear a thing.
I could see people

talking at me.
I could see their mouths moving.

But I couldn't hear a thing
they were saying.

And I went over to Ella.
She had a black eye.

She had this
big contusion,

this big bump on her head.

And I kept telling her,

"I'm so sorry,
I didn't know,

I had no idea."

I kept telling her
not to leave me.

I was the mother to them both.

I am the mother of the victim,

and I am the mother
of the m*rder*r.

The only thing I wanted more

than having Ella back
at that point

was to be able to
see my baby.

And because,
as crazy as it sounds,

I had just seen
a dead child of mine.

And even though I knew
he was the reason

for the pain I was in,

he is my baby too

and I need to
have hands on him

to know that he is OK.

I need to see with my eyes

that this other love
of mine is...

physically sound.

That's the only thing
I cared about.

I needed to see my child.

I asked so many times

for somebody
to take me to my child,

and they would not
take me to see Paris.

They said that
he had not asked for me,

and until he asked for me,

I could not see him.

And I just --
I didn't know what to do.

There was nothing
I could do

except sit there
and just fall apart

and lose everything.

Everybody left.

And then I was sitting
in my house on my couch,

and the house was so quiet,
so quiet.

I hadn't lived in a quiet house

for 13 years,
and it was so, so quiet.

And as I'm, like, sitting there
on the couch,

you know,
I haven't slept now

for 24 hours.

I'm looking out
the front window,

and this school bus pulled up

to pick up the kids
across the street.

And it hit me.

[indistinct children chattering]

[Charity]
I mean, it, like, really hit me.

I will never be doing
anything like that again.

And why did they get to
put their kids on the bus

and mine are gone?

After Paris k*lled Ella,

I had to remind myself
on a daily basis,

this is not a monster.
This is your son.

And you love him.
And he is a human being.

In my mind, I had to separate.

On one side, I was Ella's mom.

And on this side,
I was Paris' mom.

And sometimes,
in order to be his mom,

I had to shut this door
for a little bit.

And it's just what I had to do.

I couldn't have lived
with myself

if I had not been there
for my child.

I had already lost everything.
I was not going to lose my sense

of who I was as a person.

I wasn't gonna let anybody
take that from me.

I finally get to go see Paris,

and I mean,
I don't even have the words

or know how to begin to explain
how messed up I was.

And when I came in the room,
Paris was...

sitting in the corner,

the farthest corner,
I remember.

It was like he was in
his defensive position,

and he was just
looking at me

like he was just waiting to see

what I was going to do.

I just walked across
the room to him,

and I pulled him up
out of the chair,

and I just hugged him.

I'm shaking. I'm crying.
I'm, like, panicking.

I'm -- I'm shell-shocked.

I mean, I can't even begin
to explain it.

And then I realized,
as I'm hugging him,

that he's not hugging me back.

I mean, he wasn't
doing anything.

Just, like, dead.

And I kind of, like,
pulled back some, you know?

And he looks at me, and he goes,
"So what are you gonna do now?"

And I was like,
"What do you mean?"

He said,
"You always told me that

"the only way you could ever
hurt somebody,

k*ll somebody, is if they hurt
one of your children."

He said, "So what are
you gonna do now?"

And I remember thinking,
who is this person?

And where is my Paris?
And feeling so unnerved.

I don't really know
how to explain it.

He was a different person.

It was the very first time

I ever saw
behind that mask.

"And so I just told him,
I have no [bleep] clue

"what we're gonna do now.

"But I made you a promise once

"when you were born

"that I was gonna
love you no matter what.

"And I'm always gonna do
the best I can

"to be a good mom to you.

"And I don't know
what that looks like now,

but that's what
I'm still gonna do."

He told the police
he laid down with Ella

to help her go to sleep.

And then he must have
fallen asleep also.

And then at some point,

he woke up and he looked over
and he saw...

a pumpkin-headed...

demon thing,

and that he thought
he had to k*ll it

in order to protect Ella.

And that is not the way
that it happened at all.

What really happened to Ella
that night,

was Paris convinced
the babysitter to leave.

He goes to the kitchen.

He gets the knife.

He came into the room.
Ella's sleeping.

The first thing
he did to her was hit her.

Because he told me later

that he wanted
her to be awake,

because he wanted her to
know who was hurting her.

And he stabbed her 17 times

after beating her
and choking her.

And he really, really
enjoyed it.

There was, um, semen

found on the inside
of Paris's underwear.

And the theory is
that the act of m*rder,

you know, caused him
sexual pleasure.

After I learned
that my son

derived pleasure
from seeing people suffer,

for the first time,
I started to wonder, like,

"Is my son evil?"

All right, so here...

we have a whole bunch
of letters.

Some are
just about, you know, music.

Some are about what he's doing
at school there.

Some of the letters hurt me
more than others.

He says, "I remembered something
the other day.

"I've told you that
I thought about

"k*lling someone
subconsciously

"for a while before
I k*lled Ella.

"I remembered yesterday that
I had thought about it

"acutely in fifth grade.

"When you took away
my video games,

"I thought about how
if I k*lled you,

"Ella and I could do
whatever we wanted.

"And you know how
I thought about doing it?

Stabbing you in your sleep.
Morbid irony."

I did not see a child

who was sitting in his bedroom
calculating how to m*rder me,

so he could play
his video games.

I didn't see that person
until Ella died.

I do miss this face.

I mean, I've had to
stop myself

a couple of times from, like,
writing a letter.

And, you know,
when my mom died,

I talked to him.

Because, I mean, I hadn't --
I had cut off all contact.

And then when
my mother died last year,

and, you know, he was calling
to talk to my mother,

you know, I had to answer
the phone and tell him.

I answered the phone,
and he was, like,

"Is this you, Mom?"

And, you know, he sounded,

well, of course,
he sounded like Paris.

He is Paris, but...

you know,
I heard his voice, and...

It just kind of fell back
into those old patterns.

And, you know, he was like,
"Is this you, Mom?"

And I was like,
"Yeah, it's me -- hey, kid."

And I was like,
"I answered the phone

because I just had to tell you
that your grandmother is dead,"

and...you know, and I wanted to
keep talking.

But I knew better,
so I just asked him if,

you know, if he was OK and...

that I loved him.

I did tell him
I loved him and that

we can go back to
not speaking again.

And we both agreed
that was for the best.

But yeah, I miss him.

Parenthood is painful.
There are no promises.

Your children
may not turn out

the way you want them to.

And I do not like the person
that my child became,

but I still loved him.

I could not have walked away
from Paris.

It was a really hard thing
to finally do later on.

But at that time, when he was

Nobody was gonna love him as
much as I do to get it for him.

So, even though I know
it's for the best,

and I know it's the healthiest
and safest option,

it still went against everything
I believe...

to stop talking to him.

Yeah, I miss him.

I just don't miss what he does
or who he is.

And I experienced
enough of that

to know that no matter how bad
I miss him,

it's not worth it.

[sinister music]

Still, I'm looking for remorse
for what he did to his mother.

This is like,
"This can't be true."

This is not the Matthew
that I knew.