When I was a teenager, back in the days of pickup trucks, CB radios with PA systems in them, I was stalked. This was before any stalking laws were on the books. Law enforcement could do nothing about him coming by my house and telling me over the PA system exactly what he wanted to do to me in very explicit language. All the neighborhood was able to hear it as well.
He would also call on the phone the minute my Mom and brother’s cars left the house. That led me to believe that he lived close by– within sight of my house.
I was 14, terrified, and the police were saying that they could do nothing unless he threatened my life. This went on for several months, while I became more and more fearful of being home alone.
Finally, one night when both Mom and my brother were out, he came by in his pickup truck. I was just walking through the living room on my way to my bedroom as he pulled past the living room window. He spotted me, and threw his truck into reverse so he was directly outside the window. There I was, home alone after months of being harassed and terrified, and something just clicked inside me. I had been raised with firearms from a young age, and knew how to handle them. I knew in that moment that I had to be the one to put a stop to this. It might not have been the wisest thing to do, but I walked to the cabinet and pulled out my brother’s .357 and pointed it at him.
I never saw him or got another phone call again.