- After years together, Paulette’s relationship with her partner Chris deteriorated as his drinking increased
- In June 2024, Chris attacked Paulette with a hunting knife, slashing her throat and stabbing her multiple times
- Following months of recovery and multiple life-saving surgeries, Paulette saw her attacker jailed for attempted murder
Here Paulette Mountford, 62, WA, tells her story in her own words.
Slipping on my favourite black dress and applying red lippy, I headed out the door.
Like most Friday nights, I was going to the pub with friends for after-work drinks. That night in 2010, aged 46, I was introduced to Chris, then 59, when he arrived with my mates.
He was tall, had brown eyes, and grey hair that he ran his fingers through as he drank his beer.
We got talking, then over the coming months we got to know each other better.
Before long, our friendship deepened into something more.
About a year later, Chris, who worked away in the mines, moved in.
By then, my two daughters had grown up and flown the nest.
READ MORE: Man jailed after horrifically stabbing Brisbane woman to death
For a while, things with Chris felt steady. One Christmas he even gifted me a ring with the words I love you engraved on it.
‘I want you to be in my life forever,’ he smiled.
It wasn’t a marriage proposal, but it was a beautiful commitment.
Over time, though, the romance plateaued, largely due to Chris’ heavy drinking.
Although we were no longer in love, we still had love and respect for one another and continued living together.
‘I want you to be in my life forever.’
As the years passed, Chris’ personality slowly shifted and he became angry and controlling. But it happened so gradually, I barely questioned it. And when friends were around, he turned on the charm.
Then in 2022, when he retired, Chris was drinking more than ever, sometimes polishing off a bottle or two of bourbon a day. He’d hurl abuse at me about my personality, the way I looked, and taunted me for helping other people, including our elderly neighbours with chores around the house. It started to wear me down.
One afternoon in June 2024 when I was 60, I was sitting on a chair on the back patio, when Chris came home drunk from the pub. He was muttering to himself, clearly frustrated.
READ MORE: Machete attack: ‘My hand was hanging by a thread’
‘Why don’t you come outside and talk to me?’ I suggested, not wanting him to spiral into a bad place as he sometimes did after getting on the grog.
But instead, he stormed into the living room to watch TV. It was a pattern I knew too well.
‘The sunshine and fresh air will do you some good,’ I suggested, unplugging the TV to try and coax him out.
‘Why don’t you come outside and talk to me?’
But despite my efforts, he only grew angrier, so I went back outside to read in my chair.
Around 10 minutes later, Chris barged out of the house and pushed me roughly in the chair.
‘What are you doing?’ I screamed.
‘Your family doesn’t need you. Your daughters don’t want you,’ he raged.
Before I could do anything, Chris plunged a 15-centimetre hunting knife into my throat, slashing it. Blood gushed from my neck. My vision blurred as I held the wound together with my right hand. Jumping to my feet, I tried to run away, but Chris was too quick.
READ MORE: Brutal axe attack: How Angela survived
His eyes were filled with dark rage as he stabbed me twice in the abdomen.
In excruciating pain, my heart started to race.
I’m going to die... I realised.
Reaching for my phone on the chair, I tried to call for help, but Chris snatched it away and went inside.
As I bolted through the house to the front yard, my shirt clung to my body, slick with hot blood.
‘Help! He’s trying to kill me,’ I shouted, desperate for my neighbours to hear.
Luckily they were outside on their front lawn, so they rushed to my aid and called emergency services. Shortly after an ambulance arrived, I blacked out.
When I woke, I was in Royal Perth Hospital.
My sister, Sharron, then 72, and my daughters were by my side.
I listened in shock as they explained I’d been in an induced coma for three weeks, having undergone multiple surgeries.
My diaphragm and my right lung and liver had been punctured, along with my colon, which had been partially removed. My trachea, or windpipe, had been almost completely severed too.
Shockingly, I’d died four times on the operating table as the doctors worked to save my life.
‘We’re so sorry this happened to you, Mum,’ my girls said, in disbelief that Chris could be so violent… so evil.
Truthfully, I never imagined he was capable of it either.
While I was fighting for my life, Chris, who had been arrested for trying to kill me, wrote to me from prison, begging for forgiveness.
Please, Paulette. I need you now more than ever, he penned. His lack of remorse made me sick.
Arriving home two months after the attack, I tried my best to move on, but I struggled with gastric issues, and talking for too long caused me pain.
I also suffered recurring nightmares, terrified Chris was coming after me.
In September 2025, Christopher John Sullivan, then 74, appeared in the Supreme Court of Western Australia, having pleaded guilty to attempted murder.
I chose not to attend as I couldn’t bear to look at his face.
‘You did everything you could to kill your victim,’ Judge Gary Cobby said, describing his attack as ‘remorseless’.
When I learned he’d been sentenced to 10 years in prison, with a non-parole period of eight years, I had mixed emotions.
I was glad he’d be behind bars, but the sentence didn’t feel adequate for the physical and emotional scars I’ve been left with.
Today, I still have a long way to recovery.
My days are filled with medical appointments and I continue to grieve the life I had.
Before the attack, I volunteered at a women’s shelter to help domestic violence survivors. Little did I know I would one day be on the other end.
Although this incident has left me unable to volunteer, I still hope to be a place of solace for women. It’s never too late to speak up and get help. Your life, or the lives of others, might just depend on it.
There is always someone who will listen.
If you have been affected by this story and need support call 1800 RESPECT on 1800 737 732 (Aus) or 0800 REFUGE on 0800 733 843 (NZ).
Related stories
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
