#TrueStory: In high school, I was stalked by 4 of my best friends (pt. 6)

Alrite, I gotz me some coffee and I gotz me some storytellin to do.

First off, if you haven't caught up, here's part one, part two, part three, part four, and part five. 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.

As a preface lemme address the breaking in since that kinda has its own little thing going on; the condo in Maine getting broken into completely rattled me - like completely completely completely rattled me. My parents came home not long after, and were sooooooooooo mad at me. Not like, mad, mad like you're grounded, mad, but I remember them yelling at me saying, why on EARTH did you pull a knife on them instead of just calling the police?!?!

I tried explaining that I wasn't thinking, I just reacted, but being 16 - and at the time only 5'3 on a big hair day - they wanted to hammer home to me that I was incredibly vulnerable in that scenario. Fortunately it was enough to just scare the fuck out of the guys, but my parents wanted me to actually think about what I would have done next; it's like that's my POINT, I wasn't thinking - I reacted. Hahaha, it's pretty funny typing this out - because now it sounds hilarious, but hearing that conversation come out of my parents mouth was weird. I couldn't believe I had actually pulled a knife on someone and was thoroughly prepared to go through with whatever I had to do to protect myself and the household. Seriously. I WAS SIXTEEN!!!!!! Bat shit. Fucking, bat shit. But again, we are SOOOO much stronger than we can ever give ourselves credit for. For reals, when the shit hits the fan (which I honestly hope never happens for all of you), I will almost GUARANTEE you that you will know what to do. So stop living in fear of wondering if things will happen and trust that if they do, you'll be fine.

Either way, a couple weeks later the Wells Police Department called and had indicated that they thought they caught the kids, and asked if I could come in to identify them. Kids? I thought. These dudes were soooooooo tall!!! No WAY they were my age.

Yeah, eyewitness accounts - no bueno.

I was literally given a sheet of paper with about 10 boys who all looked a like school portraits. Not even senior portraits, I'm talking about the Lifetouch cheesy ones with the lasers in the back. Weirrrrrdd!

Either way, I totally failed in identifying them. The only thing I really remembered was that one of them was still kneeling, but the other one was SUPPERRR tall - I'm talking like over 6". He absolutely and utterly towered over me. They were in dark clothing, and the rest was all a blur.

Worst. Eyewitness. Ever.

Apparently though they had enough to get the dudes in a lot of trouble, and the condo was never vandalized or anything again. Everything went back to normal ... kinda ... yeah, did I mention I was still being stalked at that point? Oh yeah ... here's that part of the story too ...

Lemme get a song going ... reeaaddddyyy?? Cue Sia!

The end of 2001 and all of 2002 represented the lowest point in my life. Like hands down. No joke. All during everything with the stalkers I lost 4 of my family members all very unexpectedly. (Remember the post about my grandparents and my uncle and my grandfather passing? This was all happening at the same time. Dudes, even my grandmother not recognizing me when she came in and ordered her Starbucks. That was THIS starbucks. Same time. Same brain. Situation overload.) I even took my aunt to the hospital for something relatively routine, and was told a mere hour later that I needed to have my family come to the hospital as we were losing her. Yeah, I was literally watching my aunt, who was like the greatest person on the planet to me, and someone I loved so so so deeply, die right in front of me - and dudes after she was just sticking her tongue out at me ... and now she is passing?!?!? WHHHHAAAATTT!!!! 

I don't know how I didn't go into a nut-house during that time. Very literally, everything was falling apart, but it all started with the stalkers. 

Mandy, because of her parents now knowing about her actions due to the injunction, dropped off the scene pretty quickly. Her parents limited her interactions with the girls, and she got pretty quiet. Valerie, Amber, and Sarah however didn't have parents that got on them like white on rice - so they all proceeded like nothing had happened.

They were SLAPPED with an INJUNCTION!!!

350 yards.

No contact.

Direct or indirect.

Online or in person.

Stay away from Jennifer's places of employment.

If you know Jennifer is at a location, you must immediately remove yourself from said location.

Black and white - typed out, signed by a judge.

Day, after day ...

night after night ...

the harassment continued.

All in all, it took a total 27 days of harassment including hundreds of emails, IMs, and countless police reports taken across three towns before they were even found in violation of the injunction, and on November 4, 2001 all three girls were hauled into the back of a police car and taken to jail.

Officer Schwab personally made the arrest, as he had become so emotionally invested in the case.

He very literally could not understand the blatant disregard the girls had for the law, let alone the person that they were breaking it for.

The charges were different for each girl ...

Amber: arrested on a warrant charging her with one count of second-degree stalking, five counts of second-degree harassment, one count of breach of peace and three counts of threatening.

Sarah: arrested on a warrant charging her with two counts of second-degree harassment, two counts of threatening and one count of breach of peace. Police said she was harassing a fellow student.

Valerie: arrested on a warrant charging her with second-degree harassment and threatening. Police said she sent threatening e-mails.

I don't remember how long they were in jail for that time - I just remember being so unbelievably scared that they were going to retaliate.

I never left the house, and even when I was in my own home I only stayed in a few corners of it as there were so many windows I was petrified of being shot through one of them.

WHO LIVES IN A HOUSE WITH 98 WINDOWS?!?!?! BAHHH!!

Worst. Idea. Ever.

The next few months were a total blur. I don't remember my 17th birthday, I dont remember new years 2002, I don't remember much of anything except in January of that year my family started dropping like flies. Everything I thought I was, everything I thought I knew was changing. I was suddenly being jolted from this picturesque version of life and reality that a kid from Connecticut grows up with, and was faced with the sobering fact that everything that I thought I knew was over and done with; my age of innocence was gone. 

These girls had money, which meant they had access to things most kids their age wouldn't - which meant they were capable of THAT much more.

It didn't take them long before they were back to their old tricks.

My dad and Owen Eagen (who were my lawyers) decided that because the girls were stalking me during school hours, and I was technically still a student at my high school - I could talk to the school principal and see if we could have him talk to them and give them some sort of discipline.

They decided that it would appear to be too formal if they all came with me, so they sent me alone to go and talk to the principal to appear more heartfelt and less confrontational.

I remember sitting in reception - terrified.

There I was on, on school grounds, the same school grounds that the girls were currently on (everyone minus Valerie who went to school on the other side of town).

Please don't kill me. Please don't kill me. Please don't kill me.

His assistant comes out, Jennifer Friel - YES!!! I scream, clearly a bit nervous and only mildly jumpy. 

I go into his office and sit down, something mind you I have never ever had to do in my high school career. (Dudes, I was such a goody two shoes I never even got a detention!!! I did however serve one with Amber once. SOOO BOORRINNNNGGG!!)

I sat in front of the principal and pleaded my case. I showed him the injunction, all the police reports, all of the harassment. Tears streamed down my face. Please, help me. Please. They're disobeying the judge's orders - and I don't know who else to turn to. They've stalked me across three towns and even left classes to come after me. They are going to kill me - there is no doubt in my mind about that, I just ... (I take a deep breath), don't know who else to turn to. Their parents aren't doing anything, they think they're above the law - please, tell me there is something that you can do.

He handed me a tissue.

What would you like me to do?

I don't know! This has to be in violation of something here at this school, I'm still a student here.

Yes, but you're not attending any classes - you're not on school property. 

Yes, I know that fact, but these girls are LEAVING school property TO stalk me. THEY are enrolled in your classes and they are LEAVING them to stalk me.

This is your side of the story. I would need to hear theirs.

Wait, my SIDE of the story?

I slap my hand down on his desk hitting the injunction. 

My SIDE of the story? Oh no, this is FACT.

I can see you are upset. Let me have a talk with the girls, and I can see if there is maybe something we can do.

Something you can do? SOMETHING?!

These girls are going to kill me. They are leaving YOUR school to do this. These are YOUR students, and you are trying to pass this off as if this is NOT YOUR PROBLEM?

I sat his office completely flabbergasted.

No, like literally. I had been taught that teachers and principals were supposed to protect students, and do whatever it took to keep them safe - this man stared me dead in my tear filled eyes and showed not an ounce of compassion.

I stood up and left his office.

You'll be hearing from my attorneys.

I want to say I flipped him off in this big dramatic fashion, and threw all of the papers off the desk - but again, I was still in shock. The meeting did not go as planned. And you sir, are a fucking asshole. Wow, what a wake up call.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. I screamed at the top of my lungs from inside my car.

WHY DOES NO ONE BELIEVE THIS IS A BIG DEAL?!?!?!?! WHAT IS IT GOING TO TAKE?!?!?!!?! I WILL NOT BE A FUCKING STATISTIC!!!!!!!!!!!

The next couple of months were spent in and out of court. Every 3 weeks either Amber or Sarah violated the injunction. I was completely convinced at that point that they were actually getting off on the attention their parents must have been giving them for all of this. Like seriously!?!?!

The judge demanded that he be the only one to take "care" of these girls. He got so mad at them disobeying his orders REPEATEDLY that he slapped them with some super gnarly community service.

They weren't stopping.

They weren't stopping.

They weren't stopping.

Then, came spring time. Second semester seniors! Supposedly the greatest time in a student's scholastic career - it was my absolute worst.

See, even though I finished in 2001, I hadn't officially graduated since I wanted to walk with my class for reunion purposes.

A new crop of emails and IMs began ... these were threatening me on attending the senior prom and graduation.

HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA you think you're going to go to your senior prom and graduation? We know where it is, and we're going to get you.

The emails honestly were far worse, but I refuse to actually go through any of that file. But for purpose of storytelling, you get the idea - they weren't nice.

I could handle not going to my senior prom since my junior one was meh ... but my GRADUATION?!?!?!? Oh FUCCCCKKKKK NOOOOOOO!!! I worked so. so. so. hard my ENTIRE LIFE for my grades - who the fuck, no lemme add a little more umph - WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!?!?!

The threats came in stronger as the senior activities grew closer and closer - in fact they even got way more specific.

We're going to shoot you as you walk across the stage and get your diploma. HAHAHAAHAHAHA

They had created so many accounts, and had so many people involved at this point that it was literally impossible to ignore.

I had let these girls take hostage of my life for almost 8 months at that point, to HELL if I was going to let them take away 12 years of very. very. very. hard work.

Oh no.

HELL TO THE FUCK NO.

I had to go to my high school graduation. Whatever it took - even if it meant my life, it was something I was willing to sacrifice; I wasn't going to be afraid.

Owen and my dad contacted the school and informed them of the threats. The principal acted surprised that it had become so elevated but assured them both that I would be protected at graduation at all costs.

HAHAHA yeah right. Fuck you, you fucking asshole.

My dad was REALLY pissed at the way the principal treated me when I went into his office - he was taking no chances.

He then contacted Officer Schwab, and instructed him that he wanted the chief of police at the West Hartford police department to be involved at this point - yep, my dad was pulling out the big guns. He knew my high school graduation meant everything to me, and if he couldn't stop me from going, he would at least make sure I was protected because clearly the school was incapable of doing that. 

The days before my graduation were spent crying. Was I really going to go through with this? The threats were coming in more and more, and they sounded more and more certain that they were in fact going to kill me - was I really ready to die just to get a piece of paper.

My answer was always the same - yes.

It was MY piece of paper, plus honors. 

FUCK YES.

Tangent: As it turned out, because of all the time spent in and out of court, apparently the girls missed more school than anticipated, and neither Amber or Sarah wound up being able to graduate. (Insert Nelson: HA-HA)

I remember the morning of my graduation shaking as I put on my makeup. I posed for a few pictures with my parents and my grandparents, but I just wanted it to be over at this point. If I was going to die, I was ready to do it for something I believed in - my grades. I'd much rather have this all just be over than continue to live in fear of wondering, what if. At least, I will know.

We drove over to the high school, my family barely spoke.

My parents hugged me, kissing me on the cheek telling me how proud they were of me, and how much they both loved me.

I love you both so much, and thank you dad. I am only able to be here today because of you.

I kid you not, my dad got the ENTIRE West Hartford police department at my high school graduation.

No fucking joke, and no fucking exaggeration - between my dad and Owen, they presented the school and the chief of police with every. single. bit of evidence, and said if she dies ... there will be HELL to pay to the likes of which you have NEVER seen.

Again, don't fuck with my dad man. He's a shark. Corporate lawyers get paid to eat people for a living, and they do it with a smile. Compound that with all the love that my dad has for me, and it's over.

I didn't see the police as the majority of them were all undercover, but one of them pulled me aside before joining my class.

Here, he said - as he pointed to an empty chair at the end of the "F" row. This is where I need you to sit, he said.

They had to make sure I was protected, so I wasn't allowed to sit in direct alphabetical order in my class, I was on the end.

Mind you too, I hadn't even seen ANYONE in my class in close to a year - the stares that I got, man oh man.

Why is Jen sitting on the end? Where has she been? Does she still even go to this school?

I made small talk with a few people, but mostly sat there and prayed.

I am ready to die, I am ready to do this - let's go. No one can take today from me.

I remember a few of the speeches, but they all went by pretty fast.

Moments later, they started calling the As.

Bs ...

Cs ...

Ds ...

Es ...

Good lord we have a lot of Es in this class ...

and now F.

My row stands. Mrs. Birdsall, who was apparently like the oversee-er of the kids standing confronts me.

"I don't understand WHY you are all the way over here. You are messing up the order from everyone, I want you to know that."

If ever there was a more appropriate moment to deck someone in all of my life, it would have been then. Really lady? Really?

I said nothing choosing to remain in the zone and prepare myself for walking on stage, which may or may not be one of my final acts in life.

I walk towards the stage in line with my row.

I hear my name ... Jennifer Friel.

I walk up on stage - I hear my family SCCRREAAAMMMM in cheers - I smile and wave as I grab my diploma.

I take it in my hand, this is it, I'm here ... and I'm not dead.

I take a deep breath, and start cheering so hard.

I did it.

I did it.

I did it.

Fuck graduating high school - hahaha, that part was easy, but I stood up to them. I didn't let them control me, I won! I won! I won!!!

I'M ALIVE!!!!!

HOLY SHIT, I'M ALIVE!!!!!!!!

I'M ALIVE!!!!!!!

I AM ALIVE!!!!

I sit back down turning around multiple times to wave to my parents.

My moms eyes are filled with tears, I see her mouth "I love you baby."

I start crying.

Again, haha appropriate for any graduation, but only if my class knew what I had gone through to be there that day.

Only if they knew ...

Only ... if ... they ... knew.

ANNNNNNDDD scene! =) Wahoo! I survived! =) K ... next up, the girls go to court. Criminal and civil. YAYERS! =) And thanks so so much for reading these series of posts guys. I really appreciate all the support. Very very very difficult to relive.

#namaste

Click here to read the next chapter

#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!!! =) =) =)

Facebook.com/JenFriel

Twitter.com/JenFriel

JenFriel at TalkNerdyToMeLover dot com

#namaste

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#TrueStory: In high school, I was stalked by 4 of my best friends (pt. 2)

So, as you all know from reading this site for like longer than .25 seconds - I am clearly like the most EXCITED person to be alive on this planet. Like literally. That being said, no one is born viewing life that way - wait, "no one" is the wrong term ... lemme say that very very very few are born viewing life that way. Whew - way better. I am grateful to be alive because when I was 16, I was very very very certain I was going to die. I don't say that to be dramatic; it's incredibly matter of fact and documented in court records. It also speaks to why my parents are still so overprotective of me, and why when I launched this site they couldn't speak to me, because they very literally couldn't take it after this happened. And certainly this is one of the reasons why I haven't been back to Connecticut for a prolonged visit in almost a decade.

Again, please note that names and certain locations have been changed.

Here's part one. And now onto part two ...

So, freshman year - we were besties. Yes, we fought like cats and dogs, but anyone that is that "close" would have as well. That part didn't make us special, just awesome. Tangent: It is interesting though the more I think about this story, the more that I know that I blocked so much of it out. This is very literally my best attempt, and obviously just my side of it.

Freshman year turned to sophmore year, and I was becoming more and more comfortable in my skin. I'm a very vocal person, but prior to being friends with this girl (let's call her Amber), I didn't really have a scholastic identity. I wasn't in a crowd, I was merri-weather friends with everyone - but had no best friends. Part of that was due to just moving to West Hartford the year prior, and the other part of it was something I felt inside of me; I was absolutely ... 100% incapable of fitting in. Ever. I was just sort of ... there. As a teen, that is the last thing anyone wants. We're so impressionable at that age, and high school itself is such a vicious place, you have to find your like tribe or you will be eaten alive.

Me and Amber were sisters from a different mister. It did however always bother me that during freshman year, everyone called her the hot one, and I was the cute one with the personality. It equally bothered her that boys didn't think she had a personality or that she was smart (the whole southern thing didn't help ... no offense, but this is Connecticut peoples. We're very judgmental from the womb.).

But something happened sophmore year - I'm sure it was because I was finally hitting puberty, YAYY!! Finally a B-Cup! Well, only after I stuffed, which is like the dumbest thing on the planet because then dudes think you have tits only to find out you did a switch-a-roo!! Evil! Own what you got youngins! No matter what, you'll never think it is enough.

ANYYWAYYYY ... something happened that year. I just started shedding my skin, and it pissed Amber off ... a lot. I got bit parts in a couple of plays, and boys were definitely starting to take notice. She used to say to me, I created you. You only look this way because of ME!

And she was right to a certain degree. I did take my make up, hair, and clothing tips from her - but there was also genuinely something inside of me that I decided to unleash for the first time. Something inside of me that I let shine. Something inside of me that I let ... free.

She gave me permission to wear heels, and break free from my cardigans and show my rockin little bod. HOLLER!!!

I learned a lot from Amber in those first few years, I very literally loved that girl so much - I idolized her.

At the beginning of junior year, my guidance counselor sat me down and realized that I had too many credits to be a junior.

Wait, what? I said.

Yeah - way to be such a nerd that even school takes notice and calls you out on it.

She asked me, what would you think about graduating early? If you take summer school english, and do a quarter of an independent study in gym - you can be done before senior year.

I very literally took so many classes in school, they advised me to finish early. I kid you not.

I was obviously SUPPERRRR stoked at hearing this news; I had always been an overachiever, and took so many classes out of wanting to just keep my brain busy. But getting out of school an entire year early? Fuck yeah, man! I can follow my dreams and head to NYC!!!!

Yes. Yes. Yes. I said. Sign me up!

I remember running into my class so excited at the news I had just received, and equally excited to tell Amber.

I don't remember exactly where I told her, or what the circumstances were - but I do know she wasn't pleased.

You can't leave me.

I'm not gonna leave you! Well, kinda - but not really like that, and in that way.

She then started to criticize me. Again, I don't remember what she said exactly - but it was more a matter of, you're going to miss out on so much - who leaves their senior year? You have prom, senior skip day, graduation!

I'm still going to walk with the class, and I can still go to prom and all of the activities since I'll technically be enrolled, I just don't have to go to actual classes.

That's weird, she said. Who does that?

I half smiled, still confident in my decision and still eager to pursue my dreams of moving to the big city despite the blatant resentment of my best friend.

Shortly into my junior year, Amber became obsessive. I'm not quite sure how to describe it, but I remember one instance in particular that still makes the hair on the back of my neck stick up.

I had gone to a dinner with my family at my grandparents house, and I chose not to tell Amber where I was going that evening out of genuinely wanting to start to distance myself from her. Yeah, no joke - she knew where I was pretty much at every waking moment. We were in CONSTANT communication due to my blue pager (yes PAGER!!), cell phone, and even my private landline in my room; to say she and I were joint at the hip was a gross understatement.

I was at my grandmothers house when my cell started to blow up - I let the calls go to voicemail.

Then my pager goes off - 911. 911. 911.

Caller ID at the house had indicated she called multiple times there as well. When I got home, I finally checked my voicemail.

You have two new messages:

Message one ... I've been calling you, and you're not answering. Where are YOU!?!?!

Message two ... I just called XXX and found out where you were. I don't know why you didn't tell me you were just at a dinner. Bye.

I remember hearing those messages, and knowing what I had to do - I had to get new friends. I loved Amber. I loved her a lot. Dude, my family loved Amber! They called her their adopted daughter. (Yes, my parentals after a while got over the whole wearing make up and wearing skankier clothing. My grades were still stellar, and I was about to graduate high school. They decided to ease up a bit.)

It wasn't an easy decision to make, but one that I felt in my gut I had to do. Amber also had gone through a tremendous lot over her high school years. Her parents were getting a divorce and it was incredibly. incredibly. incredibly. nasty. The things her parents did were just ... sad. And something that still to this day makes me feel incredibly sorry for her. I can't imagine being in an environment like that during those formative emotional years.

I didn't know what my next doable action is in weaning off a friendship. I didn't want to stop being friends with her, but I knew this hold she had over me had to come to an end. I did the only thing I knew how to do - I drowned myself in school work, and school related activities.

That spring I had a big part in the school play - even got to go out on stage in lingerie and a towel. Super scandalous for a high school play, but haha - made me very. very. popular. Well, when I say popular, I mean like people other than my parents thought I was cool.

I also got to go to a dance that year with a boy that I had a supperrrr crush on. Like SUPPERRR crush on. A total first for me since I didn't ever get to go to those kinda things with a boy. (Hilarious though that we didn't even kiss, nor did we really do anything ever after the dance. We're totes besties on Facebook now - but he had no game ... at all, and I was a massive prude.) Things were definitely looking up for me, and they were completely independent of Amber for the first time in my high school career. 

Junior year ended, and so did my daily conversations with Amber. She had been involved in a pretty serious relationship throughout all of high school, so she kept plenty busy as well. I was looking forward to summer school so I could just put all of this behind me and look forward to my future living in New York City!!! 

On the first day of summer school, I noticed a familiar face in the class - it was this chick that I had math with junior year that was super quiet, but seemed super sweet. I sat down next to her.

Hi, I'm Jen! I know we had math last year, but I just wanted to say hi since we didn't really get to talk.

Hi, I'm Sarah.

Nice to meet you, Sarah!

Sarah and I instantly became new besties. Mostly I'm sure in part because after that first day, she saw me drive away from school in my white convertible that my parents had bought me after I turned 16.

We used to kick it almost every day after school. I was so excited to have a friend outside of Amber, and so excited that we had so much in common!

The way she dressed, the way she talked - we were so much alike. I didn't look up to Sarah in the same way that I did to Amber, but we just had so much fun that I didn't have to. It was different, my skin was already shed.

Dudes, summer school was a BRREEEEEEEEEZZZEEEEEE!!!! Like when I say it was a breeze, you very literally have no idea-  I graduated with 110% average. Was like crazy easy, and honestly a lot of fun.

Sarah had introduced me to a bunch of her friends, and finally I felt like I had a safe way to wean off Amber and not be weird or disrespectful about it.

People are naturally supposed to outgrow each other, right?

Yeah. Wrong.

The next part of this story gets intense. Basically, my grand idea to keep Amber and Sarah separate totally blew up in my face, and resulted in them getting arrested with the following charges accumulated from just the two of them:

one count of second-degree stalking, five counts of second-degree harassment, one count of breach of peace and three counts of threatening.

and ...

two counts of second-degree harassment, two counts of threatening and one count of breach of peace.

Yep, shits about to get real.

#staytuned

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