My ex was like fire and doused me in gasoline

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I can still smell the gasoline like it was yesterday. My eyes burned, and that hot summer day had a way of tanning the oil right into my skin. I couldn't stop screaming as I was running down the mountain road. Luckily I heard a car coming up the hill because my ex (my first born sons biological father) wasn't far behind me. I can still hear the clicking noise coming from his lighter. I opened my eyes up for half a second to see a red blob flying passed me to get in between my crazed opponent and I. Sherri, thank God for that woman, and her husband Andy. They could both see what was happening, actually they smelled it and I remember Andy grabbing my hand and running me down to the creek. I instantly took off my dripping clothes and dove beneath the water. I felt a smooth instant of sweet relief, that is until I started panicking. I was 3 months pregnant. My ex knew this, we just discovered 2 days prior. I knew my body had taken a toll. My eyes still burned and after feeling my face and trying to rub away the deadly petrol, I realized my eyes were almost swollen shut. I cried, my eyes burned worse, the salt from my tears ultimately causing the scratches on my corneas to flare up. (Let's rewind to about an hour before the fight. It's a record high up in the mountains of Oregon in the middle of August and I'm outside digging out a level surface into the hillside where I live with my ex partner. You see, I'm actually getting ready to have a trailer brought in so that I can have a place to do all my creative DIY work. My ex (let's just call him Ron) is up the hillside on the upper portion of the property we live on, talking to the seedy, volatile neighbor named Jim. Now I'll tell you a little bit about Ron. He's the jealous type. He gets a kick out of embarrassing someone that agrues with him or doesn't agree with his outlook. He will scream at you in public and say the most disgusting things that pop in his head. He loves to lose his cool. Now a little bit about myself at that time: I was going through a phase of drug use, I won't lie, there's really no point when I'm using this platform to get all my experiences out there. I had a problem, the once relaxed and laid back version of me that had a timid and shy demeanor had turned into an angry, spiteful, bitter shadow, of who I once was. (Back to the story) Ron came barreling down that hillside so fast he had a trail of dust rising up behind him and that usually ment 1 of 2 things, either he was angry or he had to hop in the truck we just bought and take off. He was seething, see he had just talked to Jim's girlfriend Cary, and she told my insane ex that her ol man said he had f****d me a few months ago. I never touched Jim, he was a dirty old guy that wasn't worth my time. He was perverted and had no class at all. Not my type. I got so angry over hearing that I lost it. Ron took that opportunity to start shouting out any humiliating thing at me that he possibly could. I decided to jump in his old truck that was falling apart after he started to walk away, and what he didn't realize is that after all the time I spent there at home alone, I managed to find a GMC key that worked in his Dodges ignition and turned it on. He was shocked. I backed up and turned that dodge around as fast as I could but he managed to jump in the back. I did everything I could to get him out of the back including slammed on the brakes, sped up, took corners as hard as I could, repeat. That's when I intentionally hit a tree. I could tell the truck was running out gas, and I knew that stopping and grabbing out the gas can was my only option. I only hit the tree to maybe get him scared enough to jump out and run as far away from me as possible. I only hit going about 10 miles an hour though. I jumped out, I grabbed the gas can and Ron started shouting at me. It was the same old s**t, different day, however I was on a mission to go find Jim and f**k up his world. I turned the can sideways as I lifted it up and over but the 2.5 gallons started pouring out all over the side of the truck. Now my ex got extremely rageful, and starts claiming I'm trying to pour gas on him so I can light him on fire. He rips the gas can out of my hands and started to dump it on me, as I realize what's happening, I turn to run away and he manages to follow in perfect timing, he jumps out of the back of the truck and hes still pouring until that can has emptied out all over me. It starts burning my scalp, my eyes, my nose, and now I can taste it. I try to wipe away the oil from my eyes but they burn so bad I can't help but scream when I go to open them. A blur, all my eyes could manage to see was blurry outlines and blotches of colors. I hear the sound of a lighter and foot steps starting to come towards me heavier and faster. I knew at that point, his intentions were clear. He wanted to turn me into a BBQ roast. He was running faster, I started to panic and as fate would have it, I heard the most beautiful sound I think to this day, I have ever heard. The sound of a fartbox Honda Making its way to my rescue. Sherri and I are best friends to this day. Andy and her saved my life, my son and I would be a pile of ashes without their actions.