A Dead Man is Stalking Me…
Fair warning: this is raw, it's real, and it might not make any sense. It's probably going to be somewhat graphic. I may even sound crazy, who knows. Crazy people don't know they're crazy, right? This whole situation has been a blur, but I wanted to write out somewhat of a timeline while also sharing how much this has negatively impacted my life. The Pinal County Sheriffs failed here. I'm meeting with Mark Lamb (Sheriff) next week, and hoping we can discuss a few things.
A dead man is stalking me and there's nothing anyone can do about it. I know my neighbor is dead. I saw him kill himself in my front yard, after spending months torturing my family. But he's still in my head. Killing himself over and over again. Coming to kill me over and over again.
I know he's dead because his body laid in a puddle of blood for three hours before they put a flag over him and moved him into the coroner's van. Side note: if you kill yourself in someone else's yard just to torment them one last time, you don't deserve a fucking flag put on your body… especially not in their yard. Ultimate disrespect. The flag means more than that.
My neighbor harassed my family for months. I called the police several times and nothing was done. They said it was a “civil” matter, or they talked down to me and acted like I was just being a hormonal female. It's not illegal to shoot guns in the back yard because he was shooting blanks – even though he was doing it to intimidate us. He spent hours shooting his guns EVERY DAY. It's not illegal to follow my 16 year old around the neighborhood, because I waited too long to tell them. It's not illegal to… yeah, just another white guy tormenting someone, nothing to see here, folks. Move along.
Because the police failed me, because the police failed him, I'm having a really tough time understanding everything. Nothing makes sense. I have been a huge supporter of law enforcement for a long time, and when I called them they treated me like crap.
(FOR THE RECORD – my back yard was not filled with dog poop. He called animal control several times. They came out, said my yard was fine, said he was a “chronic caller” and left it at that.)
I told them about his texts to my ex-wife with passive aggressive threats (and how did he know those things about who I hired? STALKER). I thought he was going to burn our house down. The girls and I always got the “creepy” vibe from him, so there was no way in Hell I was letting them go into his house… but even if he wasn't creepy, my kids know better than to go in ANYONE'S house. That offended him, he always got so pissed when the kids said “no”. He hated women, especially strong women… it was like a personal attack on his ego when I told him I didn't need his help around the house. I had no idea what he was capable of but I lived in fear for several months before this ended.
It took MONTHS for someone to finally listen to me. Officer Kursics (totally spelled wrong) told me to try and get an injunction of harassment against the neighbor, so he could personally serve him the papers and hopefully put a stop to his madness. I did just that. The judge granted me an injunction immediately and reminded me, sternly, that it was just a piece of paper… it wasn't going to protect me.
The judge also ordered that his guns be surrendered. When she said that, I started to shake right there in the court room. I felt so empowered that I was getting basically a restraining order, but then the reality set in and… they were taking his guns. His fucking guns. The ones he loves more than life itself. They were going to take his guns. I left the court room and cried hysterically. I couldn't breathe, I knew this was going to be bad. He was going to kill me.
I brought the kids to my mom's house, and told her to keep them that night because he was getting served, and he was not going to be happy. A friend insisted that I stay at his house, and I'm glad I did.
The neighbor was served around 4PM and told that he needed to surrender his guns within 24 hours (the order was stamped at 2:13PM). I asked the officers if they thought he was going to do anything crazy and they said no. I asked them how long it'd take to get to my house in an emergency, because I was afraid he was going to hurt me.
Side note: When someone is DEEMED A THREAT TO OTHERS (or themselves) like my neighbor was, they SHOULD NOT have 24 hours to surrender their guns! That's giving them 24 hours to go on a killing spree! This could have been SO MUCH WORSE. He could have killed my entire family!
The next day, I went back to the house to pack some things up so I could stay with my friend for another night. I knew he wasn't going to cool off that quickly, if ever. In the meantime, I had been looking at rentals so we could move out. It wasn't safe to stay at the house.
Jenelle and I were laughing, joking around, getting moving boxes taped up… she was teasing me about how “small” the new house was (we had just looked at it that morning). You know, just acting like a typical spoiled 16 year old. It was all in good fun. Then, at 2:17PM, we heard something at the door (sounded like the butt of a gun knocking). Immediately, somehow we knew it was bad. The dogs started growling and their hair stood up on end. I was sure it was Greg. The officer that served him told me to record EVERYTHING so I reached for my phone, told Jenelle to RUN, and I went towards the door. Looking back, that was the stupidest thing ever to do because he could have shot through the door and killed me. But anyway, I heard another noise so I turned the phone on to record.
I looked out the blinds and he had just shot himself. It didn't seem real. He was in his Marine cammies and I had never seen him like that… he was laying face down in my yard. It looked like some Call of Duty shit. I thought he was faking it, so I'd go out there and try and help him, and then he would kill me. I kept blinking. “Jenelle, what just happened? What just happened?” calm as could be. Jenelle started screaming in hysterics and that's when I knew I wasn't seeing things. I still thought he was going to get up and come after us, so I ran upstairs. Looked out the window and that's when I saw blood pouring out of his head.
I called 911. They didn't answer (!!!!) so I called my friend (the one I was staying with), and told him what happened. At least I think I told him? I don't know what I said, but I know he got there just a few minutes after the police did. I called 911 back right away and, well, I don't know what I said to them either. I was screaming. Jenelle was telling me to calm down, but she was shaking. She was pale. I thought she was going to pass out.
The rest is a blur, really. The cops showed up and wouldn't let us go outside. I was screaming at them for not listening to me sooner. I was crying, in the fetal position on the kitchen floor. Nell was in shock, a few feet away on the futon. I don't know how long I cried for but my friend showed up and the cops said he couldn't come in. I told them I was going to go outside if they didn't let him in, so finally they did. Everything else that happened, I don't really remember.
Oh, I do remember calling my “friend”. I won't name her because I have nothing nice to say about her. Her kids are best friends with my kids, so I called her and warned her NOT to let her kids walk by my house because there was a dead body in my yard. She knew the back story, that he was crazy and a creep, but for some reason she posted on Facebook a day or two later saying this:
You didn't know him, but you knew us for years… you knew of some of the hell we went through at his hands and you want his side of the story told? He forfeited the right to tell his side when he shot himself in my front yard, damnit. Soft spoken? Yeah, so was Ted Bundy.
While the police were still at my house, I got a phone call saying I was approved for the rental I had applied for. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. I left the house, when they finally moved his body, and didn't look back. We moved into the rental the next day, even without beds or anything else. I was okay. It was safe. He couldn't hurt us there.
I hate him for so many reasons. For tormenting us for so long, for getting away with it, for doing it to so many others, for following me even in death. People say they feel bad for him but I don't. Even if he had “mental issues”, even if he had PTSD, tormenting a family for months and then killing himself in their front yard? That is fucked up beyond belief and NOT excusable for any reason.
Why is he still stalking me? because of “friends” like the one mentioned above posting condolences for him. Because of comments made by the kids “friends” at school saying I'm a psychopath and the cops were at my house because I killed the neighbor. Because I keep thinking it wasn't real but it continues to play over and over and over in my head. Because he stalked so many women and NOBODY ever stood up to him. Because those women still don't want to speak about it. Because there's no closure. Yes, I saw him kill himself in my front yard. Yes, it was a relief. But everywhere I turn, I see his face. He's STILL following me, even in death.
I walk around like a zombie. Sitting next to people in a restaurant, walking through the store and hearing them complain about the stupidest shit… none of it seems real; it's like I'm in another dimension. One that I hope nobody else ever has to visit. I know this won't last forever, and for that I'm thankful, but for now I'm pretty fucked up and there's not a whole lot I can do to change it… other than write. Writing will save me. Writing has always saved me.