Title: Her Alibi
Author: Mary L. Schmidt
Publisher: M. Schmidt Productions
Pages: 76
Genre: Forensic Memoir / Forensic Psychology

MY REVIEW

Her Alibi by Mary L Schmidt is one of those books that jump out at me. It may be only 76 pages in print, but the evil that oozes off the pages is endless. How could a mother do the things Marguerite does to her children? A psychopath wants what they want, regardless of the cost to others. Mary is one of those people whose inner strength keeps them moving forward, sharing their past so others may know they can have a future too.

I grew up in the sixties, so I can see how child abuse would go untreated. We had a big family, six children and my parents. The haircuts are familiar, as are the clothes. We entertained ourselves a lot, but never did I feel the need to hide from my mother. I remember The Beatles, The Monkeys and playing Cats Cradle, and the occasional treat.

I want to thank Mary L Schmidt for having the courage to share her story.

ABOUT HER ALIBI

Visions of her Cherokee grandmother, Cordie, flashed through Mary’s mind as her mother, Marguerite, informed her that her stepfather shot himself and was in the hospital. Oh no! Did she use me last night? She’d never use her scapegoat! No, she couldn’t! Even Marguerite wouldn’t sink that low! Or would she? Marguerite had always been abusive and vile to most people, and especially to her children and husbands, but would she shoot Paul? Chills raked Mary and triggered her shuddering. Was she more shocked that her mother shot her stepfather with murderous intent, or that she left Mary as her alibi?

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Book Excerpt  

“Chills raked Mary and triggered her shuddering. Was she more shocked that her mother shot her stepfather with murderous intent, or that she left Mary as her alibi?”

Before I get to this shooting, I want to fill in background so that you understand sociopathic people and the rage they can present to another person or persons. My mother was a sociopath. Her rage was uncontrolled, and she acted fast, aggressively, and with vengeance. It’s important for the reader to have a full background.    

As I grew up, I wanted to believe that my mother was a good mother, but sadly that never happened, she never was. My mother, Marguerite, always seemed to think that she was the best mother, perfect even, but not all mothers are made the same as I found out from a very young age. 

I remember my second Christmas at age two years. We had a cedar Christmas tree with lights and tinsel.  Somehow, I found some small, glass Christmas lights and I had them in my hands. No one stopped me. Possibly no one noticed. I took my pretty treasures and sat behind the heating stove in our small house on North Grand Avenue. For some reason only a two-year-old would understand, I put one of the light bulbs in my mouth and bit it down. I broke the glass, and I didn’t get hurt, and I thought oh that was a cool sound and so I broke the other one in my mouth! My mother, older brother and sister were in the same room, and my mother found me bleeding from my mouth behind the heating stove. She went into a ballistic rage! I was in trouble. She beat my butt and yelled at me all the way to the hospital in Lyons, KS, and she was quiet only while my stomach was pumped. No glass was left inside me, and I had one little cut on my tongue, and no stitches needed. I will never forget her rage at me, and that is probably why I remember the incident.