More of the same...

Our dates were fun... with Charlie, I had the highest highs and the lowest lows. He could put me down in an instant and make me feel like a million dollars the next. He bought food for our kitchen cabinets that were empty in the townhouse and filled my gas tank, which I had mastered driving on the last fumes... He was winning my heart and if not my heart, he was controlling my life, my movements, my thoughts, my feelings...

One night after work at the Hecht Co., I decided to buy him some new jeans and shirts. When I arrived home and turned on my light to my bedroom, he was in my bed. He raised up and started screaming at me. He was a welder and had flash burn (so he claimed) and the light bothered him. He came towards me and shoved me, yelling at me because I was late coming home. He grabbed the bag of clothes that I had purchased for him and threw them across the room. He knocked over a plant, spilling dirt everywhere and pounded his fist on my bird cage and busted it. His eyes turned hard and cold and he bent down and swooped up my new kitten and threw it across the room. My kitten hit the door frame, where my walk in closet door was open, and fell onto the carpet. As I rushed to pick it up, blood was coming out of his tiny mouth and out of his bottom. He was limp, like a wet wash cloth in my hand.

My heart fell and raced at the same time. Another nightmare within seconds was unfolding in front of me... I screamed for my roommates and Mitch threw him out of the townhouse. Mitch's girlfriend at the time, worked for a vet and I drove the dying kitten there. I stayed up through the night and when the vet's office opened, I went in to see my kitten. It was walking around its tiny cage, banging its head against the cold metal. Its eyes were crossed and I asked for it to be put to sleep.

I told Charlie, no more... never ever again under any circumstance did I want him to come near me. He continued to show up. He continued to call me. He continued to lurk across the parking lot where I worked. Restraining order? PLEASE. This was the early 80s... cops wanted you to file a complaint, yet there was no protection or guarantee that they could protect you from the monsters lurking and stalking you. Calling the police and going to court only fueled the fire...

I met up with a friend at the bar. Charlie had followed me there. Another friend tipped me off that Charlie was there and I ran out to get into my Mustang. I could not get into my car fast enough. Charlie grabbed me by my hair and pulled me to the ground. He was screaming at me and yelling at me and I managed to get into my car and lock my door. He jumped onto the hood of my car, stomped on it and kicked my windshield in. I started my car and he jumped off. I drove as fast as I could, not sure where I was going. I saw a cop in a shopping center and pulled over for help. They told me to drive to the station, file a complaint, and make sure that I had pictures of the damage done to the car. I did just that... While driving to the station, I rubbed my head and ran my fingers through my hair. I was scared to see the tremendous amount of long blonde hair in my hand. I dropped it to the floor and cried.

Meanwhile, Charlie is still lurking, calling, popping up right behind me when I turn around at work, telling me how sorry he was, crying, and never ever leaving me alone. I was relieved when the court date came. Funny thing is, he got more time for hurting my kitten than he did assaulting me. Where was the justice? 500 hours of community service and he walked out smiling. I did have a witness show up from the glass company that replaced my windshield. I remember him telling the judge that he vacuumed more hair out of my car than he did glass. Amazing the words that stick in your head forever...