This happened a few years ago. I am a woman and I was 23 years old at the time. I had just gotten my dream job as a literature teacher and had just married the love of my life, Roy. Roy was in the military, so I was alone most of the time in our modest apartment. We were just at the beginning of our adult lives, and money was not so easy to come by, but we made the best of it. It was a warm summer night, and I was on summer vacation, once again all alone. I was four months pregnant, and the heat of the season combined with the lack of AC just wouldn’t let me sleep. So I decided to watch some TV, thanks to my insomnia, in the hope that I would fall asleep.
Surfing the channels I couldn’t find anything interesting, just the same old political debates and documentaries that not even my grandma would have liked. It was about 2:30 in the morning when I discovered this local channel that I’d never seen before. “Hmm, a new station.” I thought, “I hope they don’t charge more money for it”. The local program had a very nice “guess what the price is” show that was probably copied from a larger company - not very original, but certainly entertaining. I still couldn’t sleep, and the pregnancy cravings had gotten to me, so I decided to get some popcorn from the kitchen and head back. Not even 2 minutes after I left my room, I heard a disturbing sound coming from my TV. I leave the popcorn and look to see what happened. It was an amber alert:
“Emergency Alert System : Kidnapping Emergency. Local authorities have declared an emergency for [your district] at 2:35 a.m. with the following message: A young woman has been reported missing after neighbors heard gunshots coming from her home at 47B St. Patrick. Residents are asked not to leave their homes. The search party will begin in the morning.”
“What … The hell?” I say aloud. “That’s impossible, that’s my address.” Without hesitation, I pick up the phone and call the local police: “Um, hi… I am calling about the amber alert that was sent off. I am the woman who lives at this address and I assure you that everything is fine. Could you please correct the report with the actual address?” The officer seemed confused, “Uh… what alert? We have not had a kidnapping in years. Have you consumed any substance?” “I am serious, I just saw it on TV! That’s very unprofessional of you!” “Ma’am, we have no idea what you are talking about. Stay inside, we will send some people. And please stay on the phone.”
At this point, I was frustrated. It was almost 3 a.m., and I was convinced that the unprofessionalism of the local police was causing me all this distress. There were no shots fired, no missing persons in my neighborhood, and my address posted on live televieion was just proof of their ineptitude. So I hang up the phone and turn off the TV, that was still playing that awful alarm tone. Then I lie down in bed and try to fall asleep, which I don’t succeed in doing because I receive a bunch of text messages from an unknown number, in very bad grammar:
“Hey darling, its me Roy, are u ok?” “i herd wut happened, u are in big danger”. “plz leve the house NOW” “answer me”
I knew my husband would never write in such imprecise grammar, let alone send me a message so late. He’s always sound asleep by 9p.m. when he’s working - it’s not easy being in the military. I never answered those messages and never left the house, to this day I do not know what would have happened if I had. I tried to sleep and had the worst nap of my life for about an hour, which I still remember clearly.
It was about 4:30 a.m. when I was awakened by the sound of police cars and a knock on my door. I opened it and saw the officer right in front of me while the other police officers were carrying a handcuffed middle-aged man to the car. “Ma’am, at first we thought you were playing a nasty prank on us, but when we received a report from the local station telling us that their broadcast had been interrupted for a few minutes with a disturbing message, we knew that your situation was as serious and dangerous as it could be. We apologize for not arriving sooner.” “Um … what’s going on here? Why are you arresting this man?” “The man you see in our car seems to have been following you for months. We do not know all the details yet, but he, on the other side, has been getting every detail about your life. He interrupted the station’s broadcast and was ready to get to you.” The officer looked down at the ground and muttered, “God knows what he had in mind if his plan had worked…”
The police didn’t stay much longer, but didn’t leave before handing me a bunch of photos of me and my family that the stalker had personally taken and always carried with him.
A short time later, I moved back in with my parents and sold the apartment. My husband was horrified when I told him the news and returned from his mission 2 weeks earlier. Together we moved to Europe and now live a very happy life with our daughter who’s 7 years old.
As for the photos, I didn’t have the courage to open them until a few days ago. It was a good collection with pictures of me standing in front of the building complex, talking to my neighbors, walking from work and coming back. There were also some shots from the window as me and my husband were… uh, you know. But the creepiest of all was a Polaroid, dated July 21, 2015 - the day of the incident. It was a poor quality photo of the burner phone he was using when he pretended to be my husband while sitting outside my door. To this day, I make sure to check three times before I open the door, and also NEVER watch tv at such late hours.