![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cherryLet's talk statistics. Just briefly.
Genuine stalkers are rare. That's our first point. Now, let's consider this. In a province with a population density of about 1.2 people per square kilometre, there shouldn't be that many. Downwards from that: In a class of 20 odd kids, there should not be two. If, by some chance, there are two, then they should not both be after the same girl.
I wish statistics held true.
Since grade seven, I've had two stalkers. Not just guys-who-do-not-get-the-hint. We have them on tape, chasing me across the ice at skating.
One of them backed off when I ended up breaking his thumb. It's a long story, but rest assured I wasn't just being a bitch.
The other guy was originally kicked out of school because he tried to beat up a guy I was talking to. In the middle of class. He came back last year, when our school admin switched.
He returned with a foot on me, and at least a hundred and fifty pounds. It was suggested to him by some guy friends that he back off. He did so for a bit.
He's being all creepy again. It's really starting to get to me. It's something that you can't really understand unless you have had stalkers. He'll box me in when I'm working for Mom in the library. When we're playing sports, he'll 'accidentally' fall into me with his hands out. He keeps trying to corner me in the servery when I'm doing inventory.
I work the servery with a guy friend, because he'll just come in and help out, when I tell him to go away. Our servery is a very small, very confined area, with one door.
Have you ever woken up with someone staring at you? Last field trip, I fell asleep on the bus, because I was super tired. I was woken by a creepy feeling. I opened my eyes, only to find him staring at me. Not glancing over, by full out staring, with this strange, strange look on his face.
Why am I going on and on now? The car wash today. He was seriously creeping me out.
He keeps touching me. If you want me to get out of the way, you ask. Or you tap me on the shoulder, or you point. You don't lay a big meaty hand on the small of my back and guide me.
It's gotten to the point where every time he touches me, I have to restrain myself from whirling around and pushing him, or something. Yelling "Don't touch me!"
I'm starting to go out of my skin. And I feel like such an idiot for not being able to deal with this better.
Genuine stalkers are rare. That's our first point. Now, let's consider this. In a province with a population density of about 1.2 people per square kilometre, there shouldn't be that many. Downwards from that: In a class of 20 odd kids, there should not be two. If, by some chance, there are two, then they should not both be after the same girl.
I wish statistics held true.
Since grade seven, I've had two stalkers. Not just guys-who-do-not-get-the-hint. We have them on tape, chasing me across the ice at skating.
One of them backed off when I ended up breaking his thumb. It's a long story, but rest assured I wasn't just being a bitch.
The other guy was originally kicked out of school because he tried to beat up a guy I was talking to. In the middle of class. He came back last year, when our school admin switched.
He returned with a foot on me, and at least a hundred and fifty pounds. It was suggested to him by some guy friends that he back off. He did so for a bit.
He's being all creepy again. It's really starting to get to me. It's something that you can't really understand unless you have had stalkers. He'll box me in when I'm working for Mom in the library. When we're playing sports, he'll 'accidentally' fall into me with his hands out. He keeps trying to corner me in the servery when I'm doing inventory.
I work the servery with a guy friend, because he'll just come in and help out, when I tell him to go away. Our servery is a very small, very confined area, with one door.
Have you ever woken up with someone staring at you? Last field trip, I fell asleep on the bus, because I was super tired. I was woken by a creepy feeling. I opened my eyes, only to find him staring at me. Not glancing over, by full out staring, with this strange, strange look on his face.
Why am I going on and on now? The car wash today. He was seriously creeping me out.
He keeps touching me. If you want me to get out of the way, you ask. Or you tap me on the shoulder, or you point. You don't lay a big meaty hand on the small of my back and guide me.
It's gotten to the point where every time he touches me, I have to restrain myself from whirling around and pushing him, or something. Yelling "Don't touch me!"
I'm starting to go out of my skin. And I feel like such an idiot for not being able to deal with this better.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2002-05-28 05:01 pm (UTC)I'm not really sure why they didn't let me take self defense when we lived in the city. Now, it's because we're about an hour out of town, though.
And it really does make me feel better to know that someone's thinking of me. ::Grins and snugs::
(no subject)
Date: 2002-05-28 06:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2002-05-28 09:25 pm (UTC)But, on the bright side: For ditch cleaning this weekend, Dad's agreed to put me across the highway from him. It took some convincing, and he won't let me be going the opposite direction from him (starting from the other town, I mean, because there's the two roads going different directions with a median in the middle and we have to be going against traffic), but there will be a highway between us most of the time. So it's something.