"What do you do when the man who was obsessed with you, the man you thought you had gotten away from; who you believe kept following you; shows up in front of you?
I want to know because I don't.
And, what do you do when he tells you that he was trying to protect you, because he wasn't the only person who had their eyes on you?
On one fateful day of the program that I met him. Edgar. He was mid-40s - he'd been in the military - but despite his appearance, had a soft personality. He was a guest speaker, and when he finished, I went up, got acquainted, and we hit it off. Then one night, at the theater, while were backstage, we came up behind me, and began caressing neck, saying "your collar is off". Then, one by one, his hands began to travel down, past my shoulders, my back, and eventually my hips. Instinctively, I tried to inch away but his hand closed. He was now gripping me. He gave me a squeeze before letting go as the audience applauded. One hundred eyes on the stage and none could see what had just happened to me. I packed up my stuff, said I wasn't feeling well, and left then and there.
After a while, I got a new job as a cashier. Edgar showed up and made a beeline toward me. I felt my heart pick up it pace. I felt my mind was race. I wanted to run, but I couldn't. I was just stuck there, a cold sweat running down the back of my neck like his hands once did. By the time he made his way up the line, I could barely breathe. I braced myself but he didn’t say anything to me; just smiled and left. Ever the optimist, I wanted to believe he'd moved on - forgotten. But after that day, he kept coming back. I was ready to quit again when one day, during a late shift, as I was about to clock out, Edgar walked through the door - past the 'closed' sign - toward me and said, "You are being followed." I felt every hair on my body stand up, felt myself gasp for air. I wasn't just paranoid. I was actually being watched. He reached out to my shaking hands and I held on. Despite everything, he was all I had. He offered to escort me to my car. And after a moment, I said "okay."
There were only a few cars in the parking lot that night. Mine was the furthest away, and between me and my car, there was only one other vehicle. A quick look saw that it was empty, so we made a beeline toward my car. Just as I was about to reach my car, I grabbed for my keys when I heard a car door open behind me. I turn around, and it was Edgar, cloth and rope in hand. There was no one else. It was his car. It was always him.
Then, he pulled me into his car.
My hands grabbed at the edges of the door frame. I could feel my heart racing as my mind told me to fight for my life. I could feel one of his arms still tightly around my waist as the other one wandered lower. I was terrified and couldn’t think at all. I used all of the strength I had to pull myself out of his grasp and onto the pavement of the parking lot. My knees hurt when I hit the ground, but there was no time. I jumped to my feet and sprinted towards my car. I shut the door. Locked it. And stepped on the gas. In my rear-view mirror, I could see him, standing there, still watching as I turned the corner, and drove to my parents'.
I didn't tell them what had happened. Not my parents, my workplace, or the police. Edgar had a military background and he probably had connections. I felt too afraid to come forward, so I didn’t. Instead, I ditched my old phone number, old license plate, and applied for a transfer to another store downtown. It was one of my new co-workers, Holly, giving me a hug as I burst into tears. She held my hands in hers and told me that I should never feel like I deserved anything that'd happened; that they no one else could would ever fully understand what I was went or was going through. She would later become my girlfriend. I never saw Edgar again.
Before, I didn’t understand why someone would keep something like that to themselves. Why would they let someone get away with it? But I understand now that there can be many reasons people don’t speak up. Don’t ever let anyone victim shame or blame you. They do not know your story."
We chose this story because we want to encourage people to speak up if something similar has happened to them and to seek help if they're still in such a situation. We hope this video will encourage people to feel empathy and compassion for those who have gone through such experiences. And we hope that it will encourage us all to do what we can to prevent these things from happening. Even if it does happen we want to encourage people to speak up for their own safety
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