Thursday, December 29, 2005

Being followed

Stalkers have always featured somewhere in the story of my life. When I talk about these things, people either think I'm blowing things out of proportion or they think that I invited it.
I wonder why it is that people are so insensitive or blind to stalking. It is a form of violence against women, and victims don't usually get support until something terrible happens.


Chapter 1
The first one was the apprentice to a well-known Jamaican sculptor/painter who was a friend of my family's. Apparently, my "uncle" was sent copies of my school photo when I graduated 5th form. I was only 16, and I remember gettting a phonecall from some mumbling, drooling cretin who said that looking at my photo gave him an erection. Would I be kind enough to visit his house so that he could deflower me? He loved me, he said. I was still a virgin, and was not at all interested in boys, so that was out of the question. He followed me everywhere, even to the mall. When I ignored him, he would shout "SG, yuh look like yuh have HIV, how yuh so mawga?".

Not long after that phonecall, I was on my way home one afternoon. My stalker put out his hand to grab my breast. Luckily, I have small breasts, so he had to search for where to grope. As he stretched out his hand, he said "SG, let me feel your goodness". I evaded him and continued on home.

Two years later, he turned up at my house, and told me that he had been watching me for days. I ran inside, crying, and called my uncle to complain. Why did I call my uncle? My mother thought it was "cool" that guys were being attentive. I let her know that I felt uncomfortable with that kind of attention and she said "why don't you stand up to him, you can't let some boy come to your house and frighten you". Huh? Wasn't my mother supposed to be my defender?

Shortly after that, my boyfriend and I were sitting in the food court at the Sovereign Centre enjoying the Roti Bazaar's curry nan before a movie. My stalker stood on the second floor, in front of Sophia Max Brown's shop (or was it Rejuvination?) and shouted something at me. For the life of me, I can't remember what he said. My boyfriend sat there, saying nothing.


Chapter 2
The second was the boyfriend from chapter one. He was my first boyfriend. Since I was a virgin when we met, he was obsessed with keeping me "loyal" to him, and he was extremely possessive. One year after the Sovereign Centre incident, we broke up because he punched me in the face after I received a phonecall from one of my male colleagues at work. He knew who it was because we were in my living room, and he grabbed my home telephone when it rang, to find out who it was. I asked him to leave and that's when the battering started.

He couldn't understand why I couldn't see him anymore.

He followed me around for a year, and every night, he would throw rocks at my bedroom window, which was on the second floor of my house. My gates had to be locked, so he couldn't get in, and at one point I remember being escorted home by three burly policemen with shotguns. They had spoken to him about his behaviour, but that only made matters worse. I had the police station on speed dial, and they would get to my house within 3 minutes if I called. He watched my house every day during that time, followed me to UWI campus, and started a fight with my boyfriend over our new relationship.

He also called my office and spoke with the manager to tell her about all the sexual things we did, and how he had been so supportive and kind to me. He did the same thing with my guardians, telling them that I had fucked him on the living room floor, in the kitchen, and even in the washroom. They didn't believe him, and they laughed when he told them that I had been pregnant by him. Twice.

It stopped after I visited his mother and had a talk with her. She told me that he had 2.5 children and had set up house in Stony Hill with the mother of his children. That's odd. He was supposed to be seeing me exclusively, so why would he get angry about cheating if he was doing that? If he had 2.5 children, it meant that he had to have been screwing that woman while we were "dating". So much for naivite.


Chapter 3
The third one I encountered a few years ago. It might have started when some strange guy comes up to me and says, "I want to take nude pictures of you. I'll pay you $ 2000 for each shot." I shrugged and said no, and walked back home, thinking that he was just another porno video producer who was scouting for new talent. Whatever.

I thought nothing of the incident until a few days later when he called my house. He said he had seen nude photos of me on the web, and would show them to my male colleagues if I didn't let him into my apartment. He said he wanted sex, and that he was standing just outside my apartment.

I decided to ask him how he came to be obsessed with me. He told me that he had been parked at my fitness club two weeks before and noticed that I was working out there. He then returned every evening at the same time to see if I would go back. When he realised where I lived, he followed me to my office one morning.

I'm not sure why I continued to talk with him, but I thought that if I treated him like a beast, he would feel that he had power over me. So, I figured that if I satisfied his curiousity to some degree, he would not be so intensely obsessed. I found out that he was an unmarried truck driver in his late 30s. He just wanted to get to know me. He was sterile and couldn't have children, so he was not "marriage material". He still lived with his mother.

Then it was time for him to hang up.

I called my boyfriend, who was out of town, right after that incident. He responded two days later to let me know that he didn't respond sooner because he thought I had had a fight with a guy I was fucking behind his back. That was the end of our relationship. He reminded me of my first boyfriend and the first stalker.

The next afternoon, I told the police everything that happened, and I told them that I talked to him because I wanted to control the situation. For better or worse, I had the same "rights" as an extraterrestrial. I gave them the tape from my answering machine, they started an investigation.

The day after that, my stalker left a new message on my answering machine saying that he was sorry for being an asshole and that he wanted to make things right. To be friends. I don't know if he came back to visit because I had already moved into a friend's apartment.


The end

1 Comments:

Blogger Mad Bull said...

Interesting... Hmmm... they DO say that the best defense is offence. Maybe you should take up karate and kick some major butt whenever these creeps do stuff like this to you... or maybe you need to apply for a firearm license. Also, get to know your stalker. When you have an encounter with them, you follow them to their home, to work, etc. Call their bosses, wives / girlfriends / boyfriends, mother, priests or psychiatrists.
Tell these people whats happening, and what you plan to do to the stalker when next you get him alone, ie. Kidnap him, cut him to pieces, emasculate him, eviscerate him... you know, all the usual stuff... If he comes back to you about your doing these things, well, thats where the karate / gun license comes in. Lets see how that works, shall we?

BTW, Happy New Year!

Tuesday, January 03, 2006  

Post a Comment

<< Home