It Happened to Me
I was 16 years old when I met him. He was 20. (I'll call him Joe.) We dated for over a year before I found out disturbing information about Joe. My parents had let him move into our house because his mother had kicked him out to be with her boyfriend. Like my family, I felt sorry for him. The information was such that my parents no longer felt that he could live with us, and I could not see myself being near him any longer. I tried to let him down gently (my first mistake). He pleaded with me to not break it off. I told him I was sorry, but that it was over.
It wasn't long before I realized that we had different definitions of over. I had a male friend over to my house to eat one night. The next morning at work, Joe stopped me. "Why was that guy at your house last night?" I asked him how he knew anyone was at my house. "I called your house and your mother told me," he said. I knew that wasn't true. Although my family no longer wanted me to see him, my mother would never deliberately hurt anyone's feelings. I was scared, but I brushed it off (second mistake).
I began to notice that no matter where I went, Joe was there. He would ask me questions about the guys I was dating and throw in comments like "How was the movie last night?" By now, I was terrified.
One day my parents weren't home. I locked all the doors and sat down to feed my baby brother. I was giggling over something he had done when hands covered my eyes. "Boo!" a voice whispered in my ear. I turned around and there was Joe. He said that he had gotten in when I had gone downstairs to take the laundry to the washer. The truth finally sunk in. He was stalking me. Like an idiot I didn't want to report it to the police or my parents because I felt sorry for him. I didn't want him to go to jail; I just wanted him to leave me alone. I tried explaining to him that there was no hope for us, but he grabbed a knife and threatened to kill himself.
The next day before I had to go to work he got into the house again. This time when I told him to leave he again threatened to kill himself. But he did leave. A few minutes later I heard a loud scream come from our basement. My heart stopped and I ran all the way down the stairs. He was lying on the floor, and for a moment, I thought he was dead. I began crying hysterically and he got up. "See, I knew you loved me," he said. I screamed at him to leave me alone and to go away. He showed me the knife and said he would really do it if we didn't get back together.
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