A continuation of this entry.
We quickly walked out to the car and it was a quiet but tense ride to my local police station. Linda had giving the officer a heads up of what kind of report it is, but still, inside I was so anxious I thought I was going to get sick.
Once we arrived to the station (small one, since I lived in a small town), two officers greeted us and let us inside. A few chairs in a cramped office we all sat down and my dad said that I had something to report. All eyes fell on me, one of the officers had a clipboard and some paper, taking notes. My mind went blank but soon realized what I needed to say. They said to not be scared, that whatever took place, I’m in better hands now. So I took a deep breath and began telling them what I told my dad and step-mom, word for word. At the end the officers asked for my information and anything I had about Eric. Luckily I had saved some vital info in my phone, such as his DOB, his mom’s name/# address, his SS# (Why I had that, I don’t know… but so thankful I did). They asked me to write down anything/everything that took place that night including anything that could be incriminating, and to not censor myself. So, that’s what I did. I had needed more paper, and the officers’ brows went up but my dad told them I write for fun anyway. They tried to make light of the situation. It helped me because their focus were no longer on me and I could relax.
I had to read it over after I wrote everything out, then signed and dated it. I handed it over to one of the officers. They said that since I’m reporting domestic battery after the fact, they can’t send the information into the courthouse for the restraining order, that I’d have to do it.
As far as where I’d be staying the night… the officers warned me not to return to my home, my apartment. I didn’t understand. I was thinking why couldn’t they evict him, or kick him out.. or arrest him? Since I had no physical evidence left on my face and didn’t call immediately after the incident… they couldn’t do anything. That and he didn’t have a history of domestic abuse.
So he’s getting away with it. Great. And I have to not return to my home.
For the next five weeks I lived with my Dad and step mom. I was grateful but by the end of it I was more than ready to return home. Within a few days I drove to the courthouse and filed the protective order. I was literally shaking, because I was afraid it’d cost me money, or be questioned by police over it again, or he would be there. Fortunately he was no where to be found, and there was no fee if the police instigate it.
17 November 2008 – Hearing for the Protective Order. I had to speak in front of the judge, and so did he. He went first. I watched his demeanor. He acted like he handled things… he does have a very persuasive personality, only in this arena it backfired. I was next and I was beginning to shake in my chair. I was petrified of him. I was told not to look in his direction, and not look at him. Guess what I did? Stared at him. Then quickly looked at the judge as thats who we were talking to. I felt better. Normally for Protective Orders they grant them for one year, mine… for two.
24 November 2008 – Protective Order begins, he is evicted and I am able to move back into my apartment.
I wait a week because I’m hesitant that he’s still there. My dad comes with me to check out the place, make sure nothing is missing.
A few things were amiss:
- My weight bench, missing.
- All the lights on, including the closets.
- Heat turned up to max in all the rooms.
- Water was on in the bathroom, kitchen.
- He had switched out the lightbulbs. They were the energy saver ones.. he grabbed those and put the original ones back in.
- Clothes – all his were gone but some of mine as well.
That’s all I can remember right now..
But the funny thing is.. the utility for the water bill… was in his name, not mine. There was a paper pushed up under the door saying that the water will be turned off due to non-payment. I was freaking out. Up to that point I was so pissed off and scared and stressed out. My dad helped me with changing the locks on the door, with the landlords’ permission. It wasn’t until the following Monday when I could visit the utility office. I walked in with the notice and my checkbook. With a few keystrokes the office lady explained that the outstanding bill doesn’t apply to me, so I could create a new account for the apartment in my name and get it started up that day. Whew! I was saved. I showed her the protective order to prove that I lived there and whatnot.. and explained that he was evicted.. blah blah.
That bill was around $300 or so. The electricity, holy crap. The heat was electric so you can imagine how expensive it was. Again, I faxed them the protective order to prove what had actually occurred. I wasn’t even living there yet I have to pay all that mess? Eh. They didn’t write it off, but let me make monthly payments on it instead of the usual one big payment.
Eh. There’s a bit more but I’ve got to get something to snack on…