#TrueStory: In high school, I was stalked by 4 of my best friends (pt. 5)
AHHHHH part 5 ... part 5 ... part 5 ... I've been procrastinating all morning on writing the next chapter. No like literally ... see, I've been hiding under my blanket staring off into space ...
Grow a pair, Jen. I have pilates in a couple of hours, and I owe you all more of this story.
ALLLLRRRRIIIITTTTEEEEE!!
If you haven't caught up, here's part one, part two, part three, and part four. Basically, I was the first person in Connecticut to get a restraining order in a non-sexual relationship. Not something I'm exactly going to get a plaque for and put on my wall, but considering in a week I will be back in CT, this is something I wanted to address.
Whoop dee freaking do. Need a song ... cue The Police! (hahaha literally)
For like 5 years I couldn't listen to this fucking song. Talk about the stalker's anthem. BAHHH!!
The harassment didn't stop. Day after day it got worse and worse. They showed up at events I was working for my modeling agency, followed me home from places basically anytime I left the house - these girls were very very very devoted to making me as miserable as possible.
The barrage of emails, IMs, and phone calls were never ending as well. Letters begging me to please just die already were a daily event.
It took about a week before my parents decided to take action. My dad being a lawyer and a very level headed human being to begin with knew that if we tried to get a restraining order it would only take things to the next level, and all it was was a piece of paper - it offered no real "protection" and that is if we could even get one to begin with.
I cried, I don't care. I don't care. Just make them stop.
Fortunately, because the majority of the harassment happened online, everything was documented.
Printed out profiles, emails, IMs, bam - we had it all, and it was all very scary to read.
We called the West Hartford police department and Officer Schwab responded.
Tangent: Like the most amazing human being on this planet, btw. He's not there anymore - but this man very literally saved my life. Like no joke ... he was the only one that believed this was more than a cat fight.
My parents and I sat down with him, and we went over the mounds of harassment, and asked what we could do. I told him that they had also shown up to both of my places of employment, and also have followed me home from various places throughout the town.
They're everywhere, I said and they have so many people involved at this point, people I don't know.
You have to start calling the police. Every event, every time you see them - just get it on record.
But no one believes me - everyone keeps thinking this is something that is going to go away, and they're not stopping, it's only getting worse.
Well, that's why you're going to document everything, he said. Every instance, every bit of the harassment. Keep a journal, keep your cell phone on you, and charged.
My family and I thanked him for his kind words and patience. He read through all of the emails the girls wrote and was floored that anyone could be so vile.
He hugged me.
I sobbed into his shoulder, I didn't ask for this. She was my best friend, I loved her.
It's okay. You're doing the right thing, and you have great parents that are going to help you get through this, he said.
I went to sleep at that point, and my dad went to work contacting some of his legal buddies.
I say this to people a lot, and I know it sounds weird because he's my dad ... but you don't ever, and I mean EVER want to be on the other side of the table legally speaking from my father; he is a shark. He gets paid every day to eat people alive - and he is very. very. very. good at it. When it came to assemble a team, my father pulled out all of the stops contacting one of his oldest friends from high school who was also one of the best lawyers in Connecticut, Mr. Owen Eagan.
Owen and my father talked for a bit that night, and Owen couldn't believe what he was hearing - he immediately agreed to meet with my dad and I later that week.
The harassment continued over the next few days. They showed up at Starbucks again, but this time, I called the police and filed a report.
The following weekend, they showed up at an event I was working for the modeling agency at the mall - I called the police.
I was walked to my car, I was walked to the bathroom - I very literally never spent a moment alone during that time, which is awkward because I spent so much of my life being a loaner. Even working, I had to tell my employers what was going on, and although neither of them were pleased, they understood and were happy that I was at least taking care of it.
We met with Owen later that week, and he suggested we file for an injunction (which is basically a temporary restraining order). At that point, we had plenty of evidence of an elevated threat, and continued documentation that they were not stopping.
These girls very literally wanted me dead, and weren't going to stop until it happened.
They filed for the injunction, and because of the weeks of harassment, and now numerous police reports ... (which btw are a total pain in the ass to get when you're stalked across various towns. Berlin, Farmington, and West Hartford - UGH! So many police stations!!!) ...the girls got a knock on their door from the boys in blue.
Mandy ...
::knock knock::
Amber ...
::knock knock::
Valerie ...
::knock knock::
Sarah ...
::knock knock::
I don't remember what the exact verbiage was on the first injunction, but the judge demanded that the girls stay at least 350 yards away from me, and have no contact online, or in person direct or indirect.
They were also instructed to stay away from all of my places of employment - clearly.
It's one thing to be a teenager and get into trouble, whatever, parents can look the other way - it's an ENTIRELY different scenario when the police knock on your door. The girls parents who were pre-occupied with their own comings and goings were now FORCED to take notice.
That night, our phone rang.
::ring ring::
Mandy's parents ...
::ring ring::
Amber's parents ...
::ring ring::
Valerie's parents ...
::ring ring::
Sarah's parents ...
My father said the same thing to each and everyone of them, just keep your fucking kid under control and away from my fucking kid, and none of this will have to go any further, he slammed the phone down.
Yeah. Parents are scared of lawyers ... they're expensive. Where's the one place you could hit parents like theirs to get them to notice? Their pocketbook!
Mandy had the strictest parents of them all, so the harassment from her immediately stopped.
Valerie, Amber, and Sarah however were a horse of a different color.
A couple days went by, and things were pretty calm. My parents had planned a trip out of the country, and although they were hesitant to leave me they knew my brother was still home and could make sure I was okay.
They begrudgingly went on their trip, and alone in my room I stayed. I was just so afraid to leave! Mind you too, our house was built by a student of Frank Llyod Wright - we had NINETY EIGHT windows in that house. Literally, our entire living room, which was half the size of a professional basketball court, was floor to ceiling (30 foot tall) windows.
I didn't even feel safe in my own home since it was all one level sprawled out with windows. Their messages indicated they would just shoot me through the windows.
I resided in one small corner of my room hidden between my desk and my bed, it was there I slept, it was there I stayed.
A couple of days into their trip, I picked myself up and talked myself into going back to work (as I had requested a few days off from both jobs), and back into my life.
I drove that night to the modeling agency ... and that night, I was followed home by Amber's car.
Why. Why. Why. Why.
I call the police, and tell them that she was violating her injunction.
Even WITH the injunction ON me, the cops still thought this was a "cat fight."
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!!?!?!?!!?!!!!!!!!! They said they would issue her a warning, but other than that they weren't going to arrest her this evening.
I came home crying so hard in my brothers arms - I need out, I need a break, this has got to stop.
This had literally been going on non-stop at this point for almost an entire month. Morning, noon, and night. Continued harassment online, in person.
I decided that night I needed to get out of town - I'm going to the condo, Michael.
See, the parentals enjoyed the fruits of their hard labor and also had a condo in Maine that they frequented on the weekends.
I got in the car and drove the 3.5 hours up to the condo. I needed to be gone, far away from these girls, from this situation, from everything my life had become.
I had never taken the girls there, so I knew it was a place I could at least get a good nights sleep and get away from everything for a minute.
I get up to the condo and just collapse on my parents bed. I stare out at the ocean and just question everything my life had become. What was going on? What could I have done differently? Will my life ever be the same again?
I was so afraid to leave the house, to even BE in my house - I cried myself to sleep.
I. Hate. My. Life.
(Now this is where shit gets SUPER trippy!) I wake up the next morning to the sound of banging. Not like banging like someone knocking things around, like the kind of banging you'd hear from someone doing construction. It was off season for most of the condo owners, I was one of the only people in the complex - so it didn't seem terribly unusual that someone would be doing some sort of construction during that time.
I fall back asleep.
Not 15 minutes later, I am awoken again - more banging.
Angry from not having slept in a month, I figured I could at least take a look around and see where this person is, and reason with them and their construction during that hour.
I look out the window and see nothing - UGGHHHHHHHH where are you commmiinnggggg frommmmm, I proclaim still groggy.
I walk out of the bedroom and over to the kitchen, and peer out the window.
Nothing.
No construction cars, no construction ... nothing.
The banging continues.
Wait, is that in the hallway?
I walk over to the door and peer out the peep hole - I see on the ground two people kneeling at our front door ... it wasn't construction, they were trying to bust open our lock (and rather sloppily).
Right then, inspired by exhaustion and pure insanity, I grabbed the knife next to the kitchen counter - as the door flies open.
The dude had a pick or something that he put in between the door and the door frame, and POOF he finally popped it. Fortunately, I had put the chain on from the night before, so the door didn't open very far, just enough for them to see someone standing there.
I scream at the top of my lungs as I raise the knife, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!!?!?!?!
The guys clearly floored since they were anticipating an empty condo scream and run down the stairs and out the front door.
I place my left hand on the door to close it, and I fall to the ground.
I very literally had no idea what came over me. Like what logical person in that scenario does something like that. I WAS SIXTEEN!?!? WHO GOES AND GRABS THE KITCHEN KNIFE!!!
I run over to the phone.
Call police. I have to call the police.
I stood there for a second, I was so shocked at what I had just done that I very literally forgot the number for 911.
I instead speed dial my brother and explain what had happened.
WHAT?! He says. Only you ... hang up the phone, and call the police.
I would, but I don't know the number.
It's 9-1-1.
Yeah, I felt like an idiot - but its amazing what the brain does in situations like that. Even coming from someone who had dialed 911 more times in that last month than I ever had in my entire life. I was on fight or flight for so long, everything neurologically was just shot.
I call the police, and moments later they arrive. The guys had left at that point.
They indicated that there had been a series of thefts in the complex over the last few days. He said that I'm sure they were looking for my parents car, not mine - and were surprised to see someone in the condo. He was shocked I had confronted them, but I explained to him that I wasn't thinking - it all happened so fast, I merely reacted.
He took a look at the lock and saw the damage, but fortunately I guess because of the way that they hit it, it didn't fully break it. Bottom line: I didn't have to replace the lock right now, I could just leave.
I was grateful. I didn't want to wait around for a locksmith - I just didn't want to be anywhere near any of this bullshit.
He told me that he would be contacting me if they catch the guys since I was the only witness they knew of.
Only me ... what the fuck are the odds that something like this would happen, the ONE time ... ONE TIME I came up to the condo to ESCAPE shit like this. (What you fear, you draw near.)
I drove home the 3.5 hours sobbing. I was in such a state of shock, I couldn't believe I had just pulled a knife on two dudes. Wow. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Had they not run there was not a shadow of a doubt in my mind I would have gone ape shit. I had been so stressed out at that point after everything the girls had put me through - who knows what I would have been capable of.
Insane.
Alrite, going to take a break here. Next up, the girls continue to violate the injunction - and wind up in the back of the cop car ... the first of many trips.
Thanks guys too for all the comments, tweets, and emails. I am saddened to hear that so many of you can relate, but as usual, I am here to listen. Keep on keepin on!!! =) =) =)
JenFriel at TalkNerdyToMeLover dot com
#namaste
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