#TrueStory: In high school, I was stalked by 4 of my best friends (pt. 7)

AHHH!!! Alrite, part 7 - you guys ready? Cause I'm not, hahaha. This part of the story is the worst, er rather my least favorite. There is just absolutely NOTHING pleasant about this story, however it is touching me very very very deeply reading all of your comments, emails, and tweets - thank you. I am sorry so many of you can relate, but at the same time grateful for the share, and equally ready to hear from you all as well.

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

Alrite, lemme get a song up ...

So, after graduation I was feeling ridiculously proud of myself. For reals, I let these girls take away my power for EIGHT MONTHS, I certainly wasn't going to let them take away 12 years of my hard work. SERIOUSLY!!! I may not have had a lot of friends in school, but I ALWAYS had my grades. Like always. always. always. My world could have crumbled, but I would have still been sitting there doing my homework. I worked very. very. very. hard. To hell if I was going to let ANYONE take that away from me - I was very literally willing to die for it. Clearly.

Less than a week after graduation, I moved to NYC. I can not begin to tell you how UNBELIEVABLY relieved I was to be out of Connecticut - for good.

I remember that weekend, my brother helped me move into my studio in Manhattan, and that Sunday when he left to go back home I sat on my bed for a solid hour and just cried. and cried. and cried.

I was so grateful to be out of West Hartford, and far away from those girls - but I was also scared. I go from a situation like THAT to moving to NYC at SEVENTEEN?!?!! Who does this?!?!

Apparently me.

A week later I started classes at the Lee Strasberg Theater Institute, and was happier than a pig in shit. No, like literally.

The classes at Strasberg were very very very intense, but something that I desperately needed in my life at that point; Strasberg teaches the world famous "method." You become the character, you live the character and you use life experience and sense memory to get you into the character. Life experience? OOHHH that I got!!!

Acting was my therapy.

I wasn't too long into my classes before I had to go back to Connecticut - this time, for the trial.

There are two courts where a person can be sued, criminal and civil. Criminal is obviously the district attorney trying to plead their case beyond a reasonable doubt, and civil is won if it seems more likely than not. Civil is about the money, and criminal is about the crimmmmmeeeee.

K, so first up was criminal - and I kid you not, out of EVERYTHING these girls put me through, the trial was the worst part of it all. You have to prepare for weeks beforehand, and dude, my dad was on my legal team ... my own father had to question me on things like sexuality and drug use. I was SUCH a goody two shoes, but even having sex once and making out with some boys felt so dirty, who at SEVENTEEN has to tell things like that to their father. Oh, and I smoked pot twice. Dude, I was ALWAYS the mother of the group, I don't even think I got high. Plus too, you have to understand, I was SOOOOOOOOO motivated my entire young adult life to get good grades because I knew the implication it had on my future. I wasn't about to jeopardize anything. Drug use, at that age, no bueno para mi. But either way, I totally had to address all of that with my own father, and my father's good friend. SOOO WEEEIIIIRRRRRRDDD!!!

I remember meeting with the juvenille advocate numerous times, and he just kept telling me to speak from the heart. Speak from the heart.

I asked how I could do that when the girls were going to be RIGHT there, in the court room!!!

You can do it. You've gotten this far.

I remember walking into court that day with my mom, dad, and brother ... I was shaking. I am about to testify - like go up there ... on the stand ... holy fuck this isn't a Lifetime movie - this is me! My life! My story!! WOOOOWWWW.

I hear Amber and Sarah come in, but I don't look over.

(I don't know why we didn't prosecute Valerie. She might have signed a permanent restraining order at that point, I'm not sure. She didn't have the money to even hire an attorney - that I do remember.)

All rise.

The judge walks in.

Please be seated.

I stare at the judge, the same judge that has seen these girls in and out of court for MONTHS at that point. He says something, then I hear - Jennifer Friel, please come to the stand.

I stand up, walk past Amber and Sarah and think, you are going DOWNNNN!!!!!!!!!

I place my hand on the bible and get sworn in.

Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?

Yes.

Please be seated.

Our side questioned me first. So Ms. Friel, tell me about your relationship with Amber and Sarah.

I told him (see parts 1 and 2).

And are you still friends with them now?

I start to tear up and say no.

Tell us, why?

I don't know why to be honest. We got into a fight and it kept escalating. I never. ever. meant for anything like this to happen. I loved them, deeply.

He questioned me for a solid 30 minutes on the entire story, and each instance of harassment. I couldn't stop balling. I'm not even talking about tears, I am talking about needing to take a series of breaks because I was crying so hard.

I remember sitting on that stand looking directly out at my mother, and she was hysterical. She couldn't believe the words that were coming out of my mouth - it made it all that much harder.

I remember glancing over at Amber and Sarah with their shit eating grins ... Amber in particular I remember. They kept calling her and Sarah the ringleaders in this ... I kept getting so lightheaded, but I reminded myself to stay focused on each question coming out of his mouth and not the emotion attached to the words.

You can do this Jen ... keep it up. Think of this as a part for acting - this is all just a stage, and this is just a character you are playing.

I barely made it through my own team's questions, but somehow I managed to pull through. Detailing each bit of that emotional journey not only in front of my parents, but in front of the people that did this to me? The satisfaction they must be getting?!?! Oh fuck this ... and fuck you ... you are going DOWN!!!

Their attorney started questioning me. Suckol (sp?) was his name. The dude looked like a cheesy used car salesman with his greasy matted curly hair, and suit the color of turtle poop. He was a walking, talking, greaseball - just no other word for it. In the story of this man's life, Michael Lohan would play him. Get it?

EEEEEWWWWWEEEE! To this day I totes get the heeby jeebs.

His line of questioning began. They first attacked my character asking about boys I had dated.

I laughed, staying composed - wait, all two of them? I'm a nerd you fucking idiot.

Amber and Sarah apparently wanted to concoct this story that I was secretly this manipulative bitch that pretended to be so goody goody but was secretly hoe-ing myself out to half of West Hartford. High-larious. But again, something I was faced with, and the truth shall always set you free.

I had nothing to hide. Everytime he asked me about certain boys or certain situations, my answer was always the same - No.

::mimics Clinton:: I did not have sexual relations with that womannnn.

It was so ridiculous, but I stayed FREAKISHLY composed during the entire line of questioning.

Like, no - literally. I was balling my eyes out when my own attorneys who were like my heros were questioning me - but when this sleaze ball started grillin, I gave very curt, emotionless answers.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

Yes.

I had nothing to hide in regards to these girls; I did NOTHING wrong. The hardest part about the trial though was that they were right there ... hearing every bit of torture that they did to me. That angered me so so much.

I remember when it was all over sitting back down in my seat. I don't remember anyone else taking the stand (although they did), I just remember leaving my body. I was literally under so much stress at that point, I couldn't handle any more.

I sat in the courtroom with a vacancy sign on my forehead. 

I can't tell you all the outcome of the case on the criminal side, or the civil side as per the agreement that I signed not disclosing that information.

I can say that my dad and Owen successfully attained LIFETIME restraining orders (COMPLETELY unheard of btw) from all 4 girls keeping them all at least 350 yards away from me, for the REST of their lives, with no contact direct or indirect. (And when all was said and done my mom, dad, brother and I went on an epic trip to Mexico. BAILAMOS!)

After the trial, I went back to NY and back to acting - my therapy.

I was a full time student, so I threw myself into their program and even got invited into the advanced class on Wednesdays due to my sheer commitment, and drive.

I didn't know how I was going to emotionally process what I had just experienced, but I knew if I could commit to the craft, it could at least help me work through some things.

Acting was amazing for me. Incredibly. Incredibly. Incredibly therapeutic - but not enough. Just shy of my 18th birthday I also started therapy. I had also been on the anti-depressant Zoloft as our family doctor had diagnosed me with chronic depression not long after all of the stalking began.

I was such a sad human being at that time. I hadn't even processed losing all of those family members, let alone everything that happened with the girls. I was just ... lost.

That depression didn't go away ... at all ... for 8 years.

Yep, 8 years.

I can't handle feeling unhappy for 8 MINUTES of my life - but it's only because I spent so so so many years letting this story take control of me; I lost my power. This website gave it back to me.

This website LITERALLY means everything to me. I cannot stress this enough!! I did this! I used Foursquare, location based social media, to post my location even after having FOUR STALKERS!!!! The funny thing about that is that people don't ever care that you've checked in! The taunting was the thing the stalkers wanted to do. When you stop living in the fear of it all, and start facing the reality of the situation, it's really not that bad.

I lead a transparent life now; it freed me.

I used to live in such fear of someone finding out where I was, or who I was with - now I freely publish it. By being so honest, it takes away the thrill of it.

And furthermore, if they WERE to ever show up, I now know how to fire a gun, throw and take a punch, and have even pulled a knife on someone and had they not run away - been perfectly fine in using it.

I am psychotic.

I assure you, I know this - but the thing is, it works for me. I have never felt so strong in all of my life than I do with this website, and with all of you standing behind me.

This is why I do what I do, and this is why I won't stop. I CAN'T STOP!! Even if I wanted to in any capacity ... I am completely incapable of it.

I survived something deeply horrific, but so what. It is, and it always will be. The thing I am the proudest of is that I pulled myself up out of that depression. That part happened because of social media!!! See, when you're depressed you're not even conscious of the depression (or at least I wasn't). I always slapped a smile on my face, and had a pretty sunny disposition - but on the inside, I hated who I was and hated everything I had become. My family didn't like me growing up, my only 2 best friends my entire life turned into stalkers - WHHHAAATT ISSS WRROONNNGG WIITTHHH MEEE!!!

By posting all of my statuses on Facebook, Twitter, and even back in the day Myspace - I started to recognize patterns. I said all of these things that I thought I was, but when I read them in black and white, the stories didn't match up.

This website saved my life. No doubt about it. Each and every one of you that reads this, I just wanna like make out with you!!! But then I'd prolly end up with herpes and there's nothing cute about a cold sore.

Please please please, if you've ever been through something similar, just start a friggen blog. Document what you're feeling and then re-read it for psychoanalysis. After YEARSSSS spent in therapy and YEAARRRSS spent on medication, this was the absolute ONLY thing that worked for me.

I can't thank you all enough for letting me share this story with you. I am happy to report that I spoke to the juvenile advocate a couple years ago, and he said literally COUNTLESS girls have received restraining orders from same sex stalkers since now there was a precedent set.

My father is my hero ... and a hero now to countless others.

Thanks, Dad! 143

I am now a new soul.

#namaste

#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