Perhaps the hardest part is that her son once was such a normal boy, a Mount Pleasant kid with loving parents, extended family and a life full of friends and dreams.
But at 17, Jack Youngs’ thoughts turned down a disturbing new path.
He began to rub his hands together anxiously. He hung his head at the table and avoided friends.
The boy who once swam on the neighborhood team and rode his scooter along its tree-lined streets now hid in the safety of his bedroom as he plunged deeper down that lonely turn in his mind.