I was sexually assaulted in December 2008. Again.
I just about lost it. I walked into my house and tried calling the police but I couldn't even dial the phone. I just stood there shaking, so full of rage that another person had violated my body that I could have killed him if I wasn't overwhelmed with flashbacks.
My fiance (J) and I were coming home from getting dinner at A&W and this guy was walking in the middle of the street in front of my house and wouldn't get out of the way so I could park. I honked the horn at him and he started yelling at me, waving his arms like he was trying to fly. I recognized him as a crack head who frequents the store where I work. I put the window down and asked him to move, he told me to suck his cock but he at least moved out of the way. I parked and got out and told him he can't talk to me like that. He spouted off more filth, and I walked over to him and told him to shut up and to get the fuck outta here - MY MISTAKE. He reached out and grabbed my breasts, squeezed and laughed. I shoved him, twice, and started screaming for J who was trying to get the tire iron out of the truck. I was going to punch him, pound the living hell out of him, kick him until he was unrecognizable. All I could think was KILL KILL KILL... and then I lost it. I got really scared instead. I saw my father flash before my eyes, I saw Byron holding me down and that twisted look on his face. J finally took heed of my shouting for him and I screamed what this guy did and J ripped off his jacket and started walking towards him. J was going to kill him, I called J back and told him it's not worth it. Let the police deal with it because I'll be damned if I'm not reporting this one.
So that's what happened. I approached when I shouldn't have. I recognized him, had talked to him a few times, knew he was a crack head and thought he was harmless because he was always stoned and could barely walk.
So when I got to the house and stormed through the door, wracked with sobs and partially unintelligible because I was mumbling I said to my mother that I was just sexually assaulted in front of the house. Can you believe I didn't know the number to the Police? It didn't even cross my mind to call 911, no I wanted to call dispatch. I couldn't dial the phone, I was shaking and crying. I could barely breathe. I tossed the phone at my mother and asked her to call the police.
The police show up. They take my statement. I'm running on auto pilot at this point. I answer their questions the best I can, I write an official police report. They tell me they have brought a dog out to find this guy but because the sent is over 30 minutes old it's doubtful they'll find him. I remind the officer that I KNOW this guy from where I work but I don't know his name but I sure as hell can point him out. They promise me that I will hear from them in a few days at the latest. They'll do everything they can to catch him... BLAH BLAH BLAH
I haven't heard from them. Not one single peep. I took a week off work because I was too scared I'd see him again and freeze. I called the Constable who took my statement and police report, he never called me back. My first experience reporting to the police is a nightmare and I am ever glad I never bothered to do so before this. What a waste of fucking time. Not only is it humiliating to explain to a stranger that you have been touched, fondled, squeezed and laughed at but then they do nothing. They can't even be bothered to return your phone call.
I have been struggling with this since it happened. I keep thinking that there HAS to be something wrong with me, that I've done something to deserve this. Three times, three different people. My father who used me for years. Byron. Now this guy.
I don't understand why this has affected me as much as it has. I've been through worse. Much much worse. I'm scared to go out by myself. I carry my knife with me 24/7 and I now have a baseball bat in the truck. At work I don't go anywhere without the bear spray canister. I already know I won't be able to use them. Guess who came into the store last week?
Yep. You guessed it.
I froze for a second after he walked in. The thought of calling the police and telling them he was here crossed my mind for a fraction of a second and then I thought Why? What the fuck are those useless asshats going to do? Show up in 20 minutes after he is long gone? Take another statement and then do NOTHING?
So I simply served him and let him go...