Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Amelia’s Story A Little Girl’s Survival and Strength Beyond All Human Understanding #31

Episode Date: August 12, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #survivalkid #strength #childresilience #hope #overcomingadversity  Amelia’s story is one of survival against all odds. Facing dangers and darkness beyond what most can imagine, this little girl shows courage and strength that defy belief. Her journey inspires hope and reveals the unbreakable human spirit.  #horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #scarystories #horrorstory #creepypasta #horrortales #childsurvivor #strength #hope #resilience #overcomingadversity #courage #darkpast #trueinspiration #trauma #healing #family #bravery #younghero #neverquit

I swear, as Amelia was sitting there, her skinny fingers still fidgeting with her sweater, I wanted to grab her and tell her none of this was her fault. Not the scar. Not her dad's pain. Not her mom's insanity. But I didn't. Because in this job, you learn that words are cheap when a kid's been through hell. You listen.

You let them talk. And you pray your presence is enough to remind them that there's still at least one person in the world who cares. Can I ask you something, Amelia? I said softly. She nodded. When your mom, when she did that, how did you know what to do? You were only five. Amelia stared at me for a long second, like she was rewinding a movie in her head. I don't know, she whispered. I just, kicked, screamed. I was scared, but something told me I had to fight. If I didn't, she would have felt. me to the dog too. The way she said it sent a chill crawling up my spine. I couldn't get her story out of my head all day. I kept picturing this tiny five-year-old with blood running down her leg,

fighting off a woman twice her sighs in the middle of the night. I imagined her dad, probably in some drunken stupor or too depressed to notice what was going on. And I kept seeing that pit bull, probably starving, snarling in the corner of the room. God, I've seen some rough cases, but this? This one felt different. Later, I pulled up her case file. It read like a horror novel. Her mom's rap sheet was insane. Multiple arrests over the years, DUIs, bar fights, petty theft. But then the charges got darker, kidnapping, assault with a deadly weapon, and, yeah, there it was, murder. Turns out, the four-year-old boy she killed. She'd snatched him from a park, took him home, and, well, I won't go into the details because it made me sick to my stomach.

Let's just say there was no mercy in her. None. Amelia's dad, on the other hand, was a tragedy in human form. A man who loved his daughter but couldn't outrun his own demons. After the mom was locked up, he got clean for a while, Amelia went to live with him, but then he relapsed. That's when CPS stepped in. That's why I was meeting Amelia in the first place. You ever think about the scar? I asked her later that week when we met again. Every day, she said honestly. Sometimes I hate it. I wish it wasn't there. But then, I don't know. It reminds me that I'm still here. That she didn't win. You're right, I said, trying not to let my voice crack. She didn't win. She didn't win. You're still standing.

Amelia smirked a little. Barely, no. Not barely. You're stronger than anyone I know. She started opening up more after that. I used to think all moms were like her, she told me one afternoon. I thought, maybe I deserved it. Maybe I really was as ugly and stupid as she said.

You didn't deserve any of it, Amelia. None of it. She didn't answer, but I saw her eyes glisten. One night, I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about her story. About how a five-year-old survived a literal murder attempt. About how she saw things no child should ever see, her mom partying with strangers, her dad bleeding in the bathroom, the cops dragging her mom away in cuffs.

Most kids don't make it through stuff like that. Not without breaking. But somehow, Amelia did. Do you have nightmares? I asked her the next time we met. All the time, she said quietly. I dream about her. I see her face when she leaned over me with the knife.

Sometimes. I smell the blood. It's weird, but it's like my brain remembers everything. I swallowed hard. Do you ever talk to anyone about the nightmares? Like a counselor, she shook her head. Don't want to. They don't get it.

I get it, I said, softly. She glanced up at me. Do you? Yeah. I do. You're not crazy, Amelia. You're just, healing. And that's hard. Weeks turned into months, and I kept seeing her for check-ins. Slowly, I saw little cracks of light peek through the darkness in her life. She smiled more, laughed a little. She told me about her favorite book series, some vampire romance thing. typical pre-teen stuff, and how she wanted to be a veterinarian someday. Why a vet? I asked, because animals can't tell you when they're hurt. I want to help them, my chest tightened. This girl, this girl who had every reason to hate the world, wanted to dedicate her life to

healing others. Her dad checked into rehab again. This time, he stuck with it. When I visited their house, I saw him cooking dinner, actual dinner, not frozen pizza. He looked healthier. More alive. I'm trying, he told me. For her. She deserves a better dad. Amelia hugged him from behind.

You're already better. I swear I had to fight back tears. But here's the thing, scars don't go away. Not really. Amelia's scar will always be there, wrapping around her calf like a grim rom. reminder of that night. And the emotional scars. Those take even longer to fade. But every time I see her, I'm reminded that healing is possible. That no matter how deep the wounds, there's still hope.

People think CPS workers just shuffle papers and take kids away from bad homes. But let me tell you, it's more than that. It's about listening. Showing up. Being the one steady thing in a kid's chaotic world. And if I've learned anything from Amelia, it's this, kids are tougher than we give them credit for. They're fighters, survivors, warriors and tiny bodies. Amelia Jones isn't just another name in a case file. She's living proof that even in the darkest, ugliest corners of humanity, light can still break through. The end.