As my story has remained absent from this blog for now, I feel I need to give you a short background. I was raped by a stranger who followed me into my house when I was carrying in more than one load from my car. He cut me with a knife warning me not to tell anyone or “it would be worse the next time.” I obeyed. My history attested to the truth in his statement. He returned five days later and at knife point made me go in my house where he proceeded to sodomize me and before he left he stabbed me.
Due to the injury and the fact that this time I could not get the blood to stop, I went to the hospital in a robotic like stupor. They informed me that they would have to contact the police which they did.
For the next couple of weeks I told no one of the first rape. My shame was overwhelming, teamed with self-blame that if I had told the first time, would the second attack have happened?
I would find out six weeks later that the answer was yes when he returned a third time. By then I had an alarm system installed and when I heard his voice behind me saying, “I warned you,” I pushed the panic button. He cursed, slammed my head into the block wall of my carport, and thankfully ran away.
Four days later he drove up on the sidewalk where I was standing with my dog. I thought it was someone who was going to ask me for directions or similar. His window was down and he just flashed a “hey baby” sort of smile then licked his tongue toward me. As soon as I made eye contact, I knew who he was. He drove slowly to the end of my street and turned his truck sideways and watched me for about ten seconds and then drove away.
The decision was made that it was time for me to move away from the area and in with a friend. The bastard was definitely stalking me and was not going to give up. I was informed this likely would not stop until one of us was dead. At that point I wasn’t sure that would be all that bad, but I did not want to die in terror at his hands.