Is it ever okay to hit a child?
The Stalker’s Web and The Pool Incident
My childhood neighbor harassed me since I was a kid, so I set a trap and nailed his confession on tape. Two years later, he tried to blackmail me with new evidence, and I had it sealed as exhibit A.
I was tanning by the pool with a book covering my face when someone walked up to me and licked my shoulder. It was a part of my skin that was extremely raw and sunburnt, so my immediate reaction was to slap him.
I didn’t even realize it was a child until I heard the tears. His nose had somehow already started to bleed, and everybody turned to face us.
“Yo, did that just hit a child?”
I heard one of the guys yell, and before I could say anything, the kid just yelled, “This cell just hit me”. Suddenly, his dad came stomping over towards me and handed me a piece of paper.
“Write down your contact details because we’re suing you”.
Well, I had just downed seven glasses of Appperol Spritz, so I was in no position to argue. DrunkMe wrote down my full name, address, and phone number.
They left right after and I was so woozy that I tried to go back to sleep. Except when I woke up, my bikini wasn’t on anymore, and I was completely unclothed.
Luckily, the pool was completely empty and no one had seen other than a creep jerking it on the other side of the pool. I immediately covered up and went inside.
“Like, what the actual f was going on?”
I felt like I was in a bad dream or something. I tried to take a cold shower and sober up when suddenly black vomit began to pour out of my throat. There was so much liquid it could have hydrated the entire continent of Africa.
That’s when I realized my drink had been spiked. I immediately turned on my phone trying to research my symptoms and find out what substance I had taken. And that’s when I noticed my phone had been spammed with notifications.
Instagram was the first app I clicked. I had gained 99 plus followers with dozens of DM requests.
Someone had posted my unclothed body by the pool on my page and tagged all of my followers in the comment section, including my boyfriend.
I thought back to that kid, the details I had written down. I had to stop myself from punching a hole in the wall with my skull because I had felt so guilty for hitting his child that I not only gave away every social media handle I had, but the passwords for each account, too.
And now here he was ruining my life and I had no one to blame but myself. After burying my head in my hands and having a why does this shut always happen to me moment, I tried to delete everything.
And I guess he had noticed that I was active because suddenly I was logged out and the password was changed too. I splashed some cold water in my face and pinched myself until I bruised just to prove to myself that I wasn’t hallucinating.
I tried to FaceTime my boyfriend and explain what happened.
“Oh, thank gosh you picked up.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted.
He told me that we had already talked about me and revealing clothing and I was an effing embarrassment. And when I broke down in tears trying to explain everything, he burst out laughing right in my face.
“This is actually a really entertaining lie, but f you.”
He then hung up and blocked me on everything. That’s when I finally got the text that explained everything.
It was an unknown number, but I’d recognize that formal writing anywhere. I knew it was my ex- neighbor Tom.
It read, “May I inquire whether you are now prepared to formally accept my offer?”
As soon as I read it, I grabbed the pillow of the hotel room and started banging it against the walls. You see, Tom was a guy that lived beside my childhood home.
I was 5 and he was 12 when we started hanging out. And I always saw him as a sort of big brother.
But when I turned 8, he brought me flowers and asked me to be his girlfriend. And even though I was a child, I knew it was wrong because my teacher had given us dozens of talks on grooming and age appropriate relations.
So, I told him no, but that we could still be friends. I still remember the coldness in his voice when he replied with, “Don’t worry, one day you’ll change your mind.”
At the time, I shrugged it off, not knowing the weight of his words. But ever since then, he has made my life hell.
He has turned every friend that I’ve made against me, got me expelled from high school, pulled strings to make every community college in the tri-state area blacklist me from attending. I tried to get a restraining order, but he had cleared all the evidence, and the police thought he was just some misunderstood boy who had a crush on me.
So now here I was 20 years later trying to start a new life in a whole different continent and Tom was still alive and stalking me, punishing me for rejecting him all those years ago, still trying to change my mind.
So I replied with one simple word, “Yes, because I was about to ruin him back”.
Tom replied almost instantly with an address and a time.
“Tomorrow at 2 p.m. some fancy restaurant downtown.”
I knew this was stupid. I knew I should just pack up and leave again, but I was so tired of running, so tired of starting over every few years. Plus, my boyfriend had just dumped me and my entire social media presence was destroyed.
What else did I have to lose?
At this point, I spent the rest of the night trying to figure out what Tom’s game was. He’d been doing this for years.
Every time I got comfortable somewhere, he’d show up and mess everything up. In college, he’d spread rumors about me.
At my first job, he somehow got photos of me partying and sent them to my boss. When I moved to Chicago, he found out where I worked and called in fake complaints until they fired me. The guy was relentless.
I remembered how he’d even shown up at my parents’ funeral 3 years ago, standing in the back row like he belonged there. The nerve of him.
The next morning, I woke up feeling like garbage. My head was pounding from whatever substance he’d slipped me. The hotel room spun when I tried to sit up too fast.
I checked my phone and saw dozens of missed calls from numbers I didn’t recognize. Probably people who saw those photos.
I ignored them all and started getting ready for this meeting. I picked out the most conservative outfit I had. Black pants and a button-up shirt.
No way was I giving him any ammunition. I got to the restaurant early and waited outside. The place was one of those upscale spots with valet parking and a dress code.
My plan was simple. Record everything on my phone. Get him to admit what he’d been doing all these years.
Then finally have enough evidence for a restraining order. Maybe even criminal charges. I was done being his victim.
Tom showed up exactly at 2 p.m. He looked exactly the same as the last time I’d seen him 5 years ago.
Same stupid haircut, same creepy smile, same way of walking like he owned the world. He walked up to me like we were old friends meeting for lunch.
“Emma, so wonderful to see you again,” he said.
His voice still had that same condescending tone that made my skin crawl.
“I wanted to punch him, but I kept my cool.”
We went inside and sat down at a table in the corner. He ordered for both of us without asking what I wanted.
“Typical Tom, always had to be in control.”
When the waiter left, he leaned back in his chair and just stared at me.
“You look tired,” he said.
“Long night.”
I gripped my water glass so hard I thought it might break.
“Cut the crap, Tom. What do you want?”
He laughed and pulled out his phone, started scrolling through photos. My photos from Instagram, from Facebook. Even some I’d never posted anywhere.
Photos from my apartment, photos of me sleeping.
“I want what I’ve always wanted. Emma, you.”
I felt sick to my stomach.
“That’s never going to happen,” I told him.
He just smiled wider.
“Oh, but it will.”
“See, I have everything now. Your photos, your messages, your entire digital life.”
“And if you don’t agree to date me, I’ll make sure everyone you’ve ever known sees exactly what kind of person you really are.”
I started recording on my phone under the table.
