I’m going to take some time now to sit down and write about what happened last Thursday night. It’s going to include some graphic photos near the end. If you’re not comfortable with viewing those types of things, just don’t scroll till the end.

On Thursday March 18th at midnight, I got a call from my dad:
“Ellen, I’ve just been robbed. There’s a lot of blood. You better come quickly.”

My heart went still. I think I said, “Ok”; I couldn’t even think straight. My hands shook as I fumbled to hang up the phone and grab my keys to the car. “Please let him be okay”, I kept saying, not knowing to which god I was praying to. I called my brother immediately and got no answer. I called his girlfriend and got no answer. I must’ve called them about a million times before I left a frantic message at their house and flew out the door to the car.

My dad owns a convenience store. He’s had the business for about 10+ years now and for the past year and a half I’ve been helping out there. My dad is an extremely hard worker. He’s at the store day and night and when customers come he’s always cheerful and never lets on just how exhausted he is. The store is like his second home and even after all these years, his passion for the business has never waned.

I raced to the store, flying through god knows how many red lights (if they ever ticket me I will tell them the reason why I was speeding). I arrived at the store and got out of the car. There were so many cops, so many flashing red lights on their cars, and an ambulance parked in the middle of the lot. The usual peaceful parking lot suddenly looked like a scene out of a movie. I ran through the crowd of policemen and swung open the door. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Looking at the floor I saw drops of blood. From the front door I followed the trail of blood with my eyes and saw my dad sitting on a stool with more policemen crowded around him. The left side of his face was caked with blood, some still fresh, some dried a dark brown. His head was a bloody mess, the hair matted with it. Everything was bloody—his clothes, his slippers, the floor. I looked over to where the cash register was and smeared on the cabinet door was more blood, a streak from where his head must have slid down onto the floor. Below the cabinet door was a large pool of dark red blood.

I was so scared, sick, and angry at the same time. By the time my brother and his girlfriend arrived I was so angry I wanted to scream. I wanted to kill the guys who did this to my dad. My brother felt the same.

This is what happened: 2 young men with balaclavas on their heads attacked my dad with a gun. They beat him on the head repeatedly with the nose of the gun before asking for money. They bound my dad with tape around his wrists and ankles and then pushed him down when my dad tried to open the cash register for them. My dad was saved when another customer tried to enter the store, saw what was happening, and called the cops. The 2 attackers fled on foot, one of them stopping to also beat the witness on the head.

Because of their stupidity, the 2 men didn’t make off with any money, nor did they even steal any goods. Their idiotic plan consisted of beating a lone man down without asking for the money first. I can’t even believe how stupid those two assholes are. Thanks for senselessly beating up my dad, guys. If only you had just asked for the money. He would have handed it over to you and no one would have gotten hurt. You fucking idiots. As an immigrant, my dad came over to Canada with a family to support. It was hard sometimes, but he worked hard, upgraded his education and worked 2 jobs to give us food and a place to live. Not once did ever think to steal someone else's money, and these two punks think they can come into my dad's business, which he built over the years and worked hard for, to beat my dad and try to take his money. Just thinking about that makes me so angry.

Thankfully, my dad is fine. No major injuries, save for a cut on the head that required stitches. Now that the swelling on his face has gone down, he has a black eye. He re-opened the store this past Monday after taking the weekend off and seems to be doing fine. I’m back there helping him out as usual.

I’m still haunted by it all. From time to time I’ll have a flashback of how the store looked when I arrived, my dad with his face caked in blood, and his voice when he called me that night. The hardest part of the whole ordeal was watching the surveillance tape with the police. Watching my dad being attacked by those two assholes was terrifying. Watching them violate my dad’s store was awful. But watching my dad slumped to the ground with a bloody head and then hobbling around due to bound ankles was just horrible. I felt so sad and guilty that I wasn’t there to help him. I felt helpless as I watched the shocking events taking place on the screen. I was so angry when I saw the two idiots pound the cash register in an attempt to open it. I watched them make a mess of the place looking for a key and felt a surge of anger as I realized that they had beaten my dad for nothing. I still feel like I could kill those two guys. The tape is with the police and since the incident, there have been numerous visits by detectives. I believe we have a lead, so there’s something to hope for.

If anyone knows anything about this, please call Crimestoppers: 1-800-222-8477