fear and madness

Over the past week, I haven't really been too scared. My friends on the other hand, not so much. One friend is getting a gun, another has had her mom in town all week staying with her, and another stayed with our friend all week and when her husband leaves today she will be at someone else's house. Now we all know I jump at everything, and during a scary movie I'm terrified. But those things pass pretty quickly for me. After reading, hearing, talking all about Esme and what happened to her, I have made sure I'm staying smart and cautious. I don't mind walking back to my car alone in the dark, or sleep with the window open if it's nice outside, and I have always LOVED living alone. Living alone has never been a scary thing for me. But, things have changed since Esme was killed. 

On Friday some friends and I went for a drink and towards the end of the night we started talking about Esme, what happened, being safe, and how scared everyone is. For some reason on my way home I started getting terrified. I hated that feeling. Walking into my dark apartment was awful. My heart was beating out of my chest I was so scared. I kept the door open (not totally safe in itself because someone could run right through, but if someone was inside I could run out super easily) and started going room to room turning on every light I could and looking under, and in things. When I got to my bathroom I kicked my shower curtain (I always close it after a shower), and when no one made a sound I karate kicked it open. After that I knew my apartment was safe and I closed and locked the door. From there I got out my pepper spray in my nightstand, dusted it off, and put it on my key ring. Who knows if it even still works, my parents got it for me when I first went to UT. 

Until that night, I had a pretty rational mind. I know that as long as I'm safe and cautious, I should be ok. I also know even with being safe anything could happen at anytime, anywhere. But Friday night my mind lost its sanity. Being this scared is no way to live. As I write this I'm feeling better, not as fearful. But who's to say this fearfulness won't happen again?

I've always read true crime books, loving the science, psychology, and detective work behind these stories. It is crazy to think I now actually know someone that this has happened to. I've been trying to think back to all of the books and cases I've read about. Hoping there would be some answer, or ray of light that would help. The latest reports are that this man has possibly attacked many other women over the past year or two. Of course this hasn't been stated as fact from the police, but based on sketches there is a possible link.

All I can do at this point is be smart about what I do. Don't walk to my car alone at night anymore. Have a friend walk me to the door if I'm feeling uneasy. (Derrick walked me to my apartment Friday night and did a "room search" like he does for the flight attendants when they land for the night. He's a pilot in case that was a confusing sentence. And no, they aren't staying in the same room, he just checks that they're safe before he goes to his own room.) I will keep my pepper spray on my keys, and by my bed when I'm sleeping. Lynn, our school counselor, is also setting up a self defense class for us after school sometime soon. Although lets be honest. If I ever were to get attacked there is no way I will actually remember any of that crap.

I'm mad at this guy for taking a friend. I'm mad at him for taking someone so young, and so awesomely cool. I'm mad at him for scaring my friends. I'm mad at him for making me feel unsafe in my own apartment. I'm just mad.