It’s been over a week since I’ve seen him. Since that night that I thought everything was going to be okay. I had my restraining order, all had been quiet for a few days. It was 2am on a Saturday night, and my roomate and my best friend and I were sharing laughs and smoking in my living room. It was a warm summer night in July, and our windows were open to let the air in and the smoke out, it was quiet outside, exactly what you would expect from a small town late at night. I walked to the kitchen to get Ice cream, to feed the munchies that come along with smoking. I can hear them laughing from the living room, all is well in my home. I still have a smile on my face as I open the freezer door. Standing there in my normal evening attire of a T-shirt and underwear, I reach in, grab my ice cream and as I go to close the door, I hear a harsh whisper come from my bedroom off the kitchen. “Hey! Your done for bitch!” He yelled in a hushed tone. I spun around as quickly as I could, ice cream still in my hand. I see him halfway in my bedroom window. One foot on my bedroom floor and the other still out on my farmers porch. He had a crazed and scary look about him. Like he had been up for days on God know what drugs. He has the look of a killer on a mission, and he wanted revenge on me turning him in for his abuse. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak. It was as if time had stopped, and with it so did my heartbeat. The next thing I heard was my giant army ranger roomate come flying into the kitchen. I looked to see him look at me, and then to my open window, screen missing, curtains blowing in the summer breeze. It was apparent the mortified look I had on my face, I couldn’t tell if the tears were coming, but the fear had set in. “What was that noise, “Sam” and I heard a noise.” I couldn’t speak. I just lifted my hand and pointed to the window. “Was it him? Was he here?” I nodded, still frozen in place. I watched the anger sweep over his face, displacing his concern. “Stay here! And call the police.” He ordered. I watched him grab his knife and storm out our front door onto the porch, rage in his eyes on a manhunt to find him. My best friend rounded the corner and threw herself on me, with a pair of pants in one hand and a phone in the other. She handed me the pants to put on in preparation for our new found friends at the police department who were now coming for yet another visit. I heard bits and pieces of her conversation with the dispatcher as I slowly put the pants on, and found myself now sitting in the corner of my kitchen floor near the window to the porch, just looking out the window. My best friend moved to sit next to me, rubbing my back and trying to get any word or look out of me. I was shaking now, uncontrollably, and I was completely petrified. My roomated stalked back into the house and said he found no sign of him, but that his car was parked on the road a few houses down. Within a minute there were blue lights everywhere. I knew I would need to finally say something, I just didn’t know if I could muster it. The one police officer who had been involved with this from the very first phone call showed up on my porch. At this point my roomate had stepped on to the front porch to meet the officers. He had locked the door behind him and my best friend and I remained by that window on the floor. I opened the window, listening to my roomates account. The officer, after speaking to my roomate, knelt down next to the window. He looked at me like you would look at a lost puppy. “What happened hun? Are you okay?” I started trying to recount what happened. I was in and out and still visibly shaking. He asked me about the window, and told my best friend to take care of me while he sorted things out. He grabbed the missing screen from my bedroom window and held it up to my roomate, showing him the giant cut from a knife which was how he was able to get in my window into my bedroom. They walked together down to his car, while 8 other officers searched the area for him. My officer friend returned, car keys in hand. He told me that he had left his keys in the ignition and couldn’t go far and he would be taking the keys with him. My emergency hearing was in the morning and he would be there in court with me. He advised us to lock everything, leave no window open and not to answer the door. They left and my roomate and best friend took to taking care of the house. My best friend locked up, while my roomate grabbed my pillows and blanket from my bed and put them on his, no way he was letting me not sleep with him, no matter how much I protested the couch was fine. We all returned to the living room, smoking now to release the stress and anxiety of what just happened. 45 mins later, we’re all starting to finally have mellowed out and start thinking about going to bed. Right as we are all about to leave the living room and head to sleep, my roomate stops dead in his tracks. He puts his finger to his lips to silence us fast as he bolts to the hallway of the front door. My best friend grabs my hand and her cell phone, and dials 911. We move slowly to follow my roomate and see what he’s looking at. My front door knob, although locked is moving rapidly, as someone is trying to break the lock and get in. My roomate moves us back and whispers, “tell them he’s trying to get through the front door. I would open it and kill this prick but I want them to get the fuck.” In hushed tones my best friend tells dispatch what is going on. Again, I’m paralyzed with fear as my heart begins trying to beat out of my chest. My roomate moves against the door to look out the peephole and slides against the door. He must have heard him as the door knob stops moving. Shortly after the police return and find my door knob nearly hanging off. If not for our deadbolt and my roomates military senses, he would have been in my home again. My new found officer friend tells us to go to bed and be at the courthouse for 8am. He says he’s obviously still around and they can’t find him, so he said he would sit on my front porch until dawn. My roomate and I went to bed, my best friend took my spare room. I lay there awake all night. Once your sense of safety has been violated, no army ranger lying next to you, or police officer on your front porch can make you feel safe. The tape of the nights events playing on repeat in your mind. And the look of his crazed, revenge filled eyes staring back at you, burned into your memory.
After what seems like an eternity. The dawn begins to break.
Next installment, Part 2: First court hearing.