My Dad Urgently Called My Brother and Me: ‘Something Strange Is Happening to Your Mom — Come Save Her’

The moment my phone illuminated with my father’s name, a chilling premonition seized me. My father never initiated calls. That role was always reserved for my mother. This deviation from the norm signaled an impending crisis.

A profound sense of unease settled over me. I answered the call, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. “Kimberly… you need to get your brother and come NOW!” His voice, usually calm and steady, was fractured with panic. “Something strange is happening to your mom. You have to save her!”

The line abruptly went dead, leaving me reeling in the aftermath of his cryptic message. I stared at the lifeless screen, my mind a whirlwind of terrifying possibilities. A heart attack? A stroke? Perhaps a devastating car accident? The chilling thought of her suffering, the unimaginable, briefly crossed my mind, but I quickly pushed it aside.

Panic fueled my actions. I snatched my bag, rushed out of the office, barely acknowledging my bewildered boss’s inquiries. My brother, Matt, didn’t answer the first call, nor the second. Frustration gnawed at me with each unanswered ring. Finally, on the third attempt, he picked up. “Matt, something’s wrong with Mom. Dad’s freaking out. Meet me at their house?” His usual sarcastic tone was replaced by an unexpected urgency. “On my way,” he replied.

The drive to our childhood home felt interminable. Each red light seemed to last an eternity, and every slow-moving vehicle ahead of me became an insurmountable obstacle. As I pulled into the familiar driveway, my hands trembled uncontrollably. I wasn’t prepared for what awaited me.

I rushed inside, only to be met by a scene of utter chaos. Dirty dishes formed a towering mountain in the sink, discarded takeout containers littered every surface. And there, amidst the disarray, sat my father, his shoulders shaking with sobs.

I blinked, struggling to comprehend the sight before me. My father, the epitome of stoicism, was weeping. In all my years, I had never witnessed him shed a single tear.

Matt arrived shortly after, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Kim! Where’s Mom? What happened?” He too, upon seeing my father’s distress, exchanged a silent, terrified glance with me.

I approached my father cautiously. “Dad? What happened? Is Mom in the hospital?”

He looked up, his face a mask of anguish, his eyes red-rimmed. “Hospital? No, your mother has gone CRAZY!”

Matt and I exchanged another bewildered look. Had the stress finally taken its toll on my father?

“Crazy how?” Matt inquired gently, as if addressing a frightened animal.

Dad gestured wildly at the chaotic scene. “She packed her bags and LEFT! With Janet! On VACATION!”

A stunned silence descended upon us. You could have heard a pin drop.

Then, slowly, the dawning realization began to sink in.