Chloe Griffiths, 29 from Port Macquarie NSW, shares her true life story:
My little dog, Pippy stood in the hallway with her ears pricked, glaring at the laundry door.
“What’s wrong, girl?” I said, frowning.
An engine sound came from outside.
Suddenly, wood around the lock splintered and the blade of a chainsaw thrust through.
“Oh my God!” I screamed as I caught sight of my ex, Terry Purvis, through the laundry window.
Terry and I had met through mutual friends 11 years earlier.
He was kind and easygoing and we’d soon got together.
He couldn’t have been happier when I discovered I was pregnant.
“Anything you need, you just tell me,” he said.
But as my bump grew, the responsibility seemed to weigh on him.
He stayed out a lot, drinking with mates.
“I’m just getting the partying out of my system, before the baby comes,” he vowed.
But he didn’t stop until our little boy, Tate, was born.
Not that Terry helped much.
If I asked him to change or feed Tate, he’d just shrug.
Terry Purvis.
“I don’t know what to do,” he’d say. “Babies are boring.”
Terry had a good job in the mines but lost it after being off work for a year with severe whiplash.
After that, he sat around the house feeling sorry for himself, drinking, smoking synthetic marijuana and sleeping half the day.
“You need to find another job,” I insisted.
We argued a lot and eventually split.
I moved from our home in Muswellbrook to my mum, Julie’s, in Port Macquarie.
“I promise I’ll change,” Terry pleaded.
For Tate’s sake, I gave him another chance, so he moved in with us but his bad habits continued.
During an argument, he slammed a door on my fingers, breaking one of them.
We split up again, and I threw him out.
About a week later he called and said, “Look, are we still together?”
“You’re kidding!” I spluttered. “After what you did?”
“You bitch,” he raged and hung up.
I rolled my eyes in frustration and went about preparing dinner before Tate got home from a friend’s.
About 40 minutes later, I was in the lounge room when I peered down the hallway and saw Pippy staring at the laundry door.
When that chainsaw sliced through, I knew Terry had come for revenge.
“Mum, call the police!” I screamed in terror.
She flew down the hallway to see what was happening.
“It’s Terry, he’s cutting through the door!” I screamed.
The thunderous sound of the chainsaw was deafening. I was frozen with fear while Mum called triple 0.
Terry was cutting around the lock.
He was almost finished and would be inside in seconds.
Mum suddenly grabbed me and pushed me into the bedroom.
“Don’t come out,” she ordered.
I heard the door to the laundry give way and Terry barged in, wielding the buzzing chainsaw in front of him. His face was full of rage.
He’s going to slice us to pieces, I thought, trembling.
“Get out of my house now!” Mum yelled bravely.
He raised the chainsaw and she thrust her left arm out to block the blade.
The teeth bit into her flesh, spraying blood everywhere.
Mum’s scar is still visible.
She fell back against the wall and slid to the ground.
Terry glared at me with dead eyes.
I’d never seen anything so evil in my life.
If I didn’t fight I’d die.
The chainsaw blade was pointing downwards so I charged, arms outstretched and shoved Terry down the hallway.
Somehow, I managed to avoid the whirring blade.
But in the struggle, I ended up with my back to him, his arm wrapped round my throat in a choke hold.
Then the blade swung towards my face.
Pain surged through me as I grabbed it with my left hand and squeezed it as hard as I could to try to stop it.
Blades chewed into my fingers, but I didn’t care.
Terry shrugged me off, throwing me into the laundry.
Then he started punching me in the face.
He dragged me to the back veranda and continued punching me in the head.
The door that I was hiding behind.
The fight was draining from me – I knew I was going to black out.
I’m dead now, I thought.
With all my might I threw myself against Terry, slamming him against the veranda railing.
The impact loosened his grip on the chainsaw, which I quickly grabbed.
I threw it over the veranda and bolted back inside.
Blood was everywhere.
I bolted into another bedroom and slammed the door behind me.
Just then, the chainsaw roared to life again on the other side.
Terry was back.
The damage to the laundry door.
Wood splintered as the blade sliced through the door.
I shrieked in terror.
I didn’t know if I had it in me to fight him off again.
Suddenly, the blade stopped and it went quiet – it seemed like he’d gone.
“Police!” someone yelled.
Cautiously, I opened the door, and four police officers stormed in, guns drawn.
Terry had run off.
Mum and I were taken to hospital straightaway.
I had bruising, black eyes and deep cuts on my fingers that needed stitches.
But Mum was much worse – she’d lost a lot of blood.
Terry had sliced through muscles and nerves in her left arm.
Police told us Terry had handed himself in.
Me the morning after the attack.
I couldn’t believe it had come to this!
Terry pleaded guilty to wounding at his trial, but said he couldn’t remember what he’d done.
He got five years and six months in prison, with three years and four months non-parole.
With time served he could be free by December 2019.
“It’s like my life isn’t worth anything,” I sobbed to Mum.
We’re supposed to be getting serious about domestic violence in Australia.
My ex carved his way into our home with a chainsaw, attacked my mum and me, and terrified us for life.
Yet, he’ll be out in two years.
I’d like someone with the authority to explain to me how that makes any sense whatsoever.
Julie Griffiths, 50, Port Macquarie, NSW says:
I saw death in Terry’s eyes the day he attacked us.
After he cut me down, I couldn’t move so all I heard were Chloe’s screams.
I really believed that he was murdering my daughter, as I drifted into unconsciousness.
Terry sliced right through the muscle and nerves in my left arm.
I had sugrery that night, but I still haven’t got back full use of my arm and hand.
I don’t know if I ever will and I’m in constant pain.
Poor little Tate said to me, “Nanny, I think Daddy hurting you and Mummy was a very bad thing to do.”
A child can see that. Why didn’t the court?
