Tuesday, February 22, 2011


Daniel, my stalker, broke into my house today.
I'd left the back door unlocked through sheer idiocy, and thank God it squeals loudly when you open it because I was asleep, and if I hadn't heard...I don't want to think about it.
I rolled out of bed, my nerves were all jangling and my heart was beating so fast- my baseball bat was in the living room by the front door, and I had to look around my room for a weapon- I grabbed my phone and called the police, and all the time I could hear something crashing around in the kitchen. I had my back to the door, trying to brace myself in case he tried to get into my room, and I was trying to be quiet but I was also trying to tell the police where I was while hyperventilating and it was so, so hard not to scream...and then the door started moving because he was trying to get in and I did scream. A lot.

I felt like I held that door for an eternity, and then all of a sudden my leg gave out and he was in my fucking room, and you know how I make fun of him sometimes? How I call him a bad stalker and say it's sometimes hard to remember he's supposed to be scary? Not anymore. He came in like a storm or something- threw me back against my bed and knocked the wind out of me. My phone was knocked out of my hand, I remember being able to hear the operator asking if I was still there but all I could do was watch while he took that one extra step he needed to get in, and reached out and grabbed my throat.
He grabbed me and pushed me up onto my bed and I was trying to scream, trying to fight...I thought he was weak but I was so wrong. He was snarling and spitting like a wild animal, his face was riddled with sores and boils and his teeth were bared. His eyes were so blue. He had one hand pushing down on my throat and the other held down my arm and I kept kicking and kicking and his grip didn't loosen atall, just kept pushing me down onto myu bed and me fighting for air and seeing something dark, dark, dark and tall and slender rising up behind him as I blacked out...
The police pulled him off of me. They told me later that they'd arrived about 7 minutes after I'd called, and that if they'd been much later I'd probably be dead. I don't remember them pulling him away, or clubbing him in the back of the head, or making sure that I was alright. I couldn't see- everything was vague and fuzzy and full of pain, and I kept thinking that I wanted to go to sleep but my eyes kept returning to my doorway where I saw the monster rising behind him, ready to finish me off. I had to struggle to breathe. Then finally my breath came back and I could see and hear again and there was no monster, just three police officers and my open door and Daniel lying face-down on my carpet, with his fucking fedora next to him.
You know why he was wearing that fedora? His hair was missing. In clumps. Like he had radiation sickness. And when the police picked him up and dragged him away, he was still unconcious but he vomited all over his shirt without waking up. There was blood in it.

I got back from the hospital an hour ago. I haven't told anyone except Jess, who gave me a ride home. She wanted to stay but I told her that Daniel's in jail, so I'm safe. Ha.
I've got bruises all over my body- there's an ugly ring around my throat where he tried to choke me, and I can barely talk. I ache all over. I can't eat because every time I do, I throw up. I'm sitting on my bed, the same place where he tried to kill me this morning, the same

No, no, no, no, we're not doing this again. This entry...shit. I ve been trying to write it isnce I got home and I've started crying twice and had to run to the bathroom to puke again and I'm fucking done.  I'm getting this down on paper. He's in jail now and he's not fucking getting out. I'm safe from him at least, and I've got my bat and my phone and I've tripple-checked all the doors and windows. I should count myself lucky. I survived, I'm going to be okay. It'll take some time to heal but I'm alive and...oh god I can't beleive it I thought he was going to rape me and he didn't and just knowing that didn't happen thank god thank god thank god I'm fucking crying jesus christ why is this happening I wish he were dead god forgive me I wish he were dead

1 comment:

  1. Holy shit.

    Glad to see that you're okay...


    I'm heading out for now, but if you need to talk to someone, my email's scotthowardphillips@gmail.com .

    I'm sorry... *hug*