TRUE Scary Story (Crazy EX-Boyfriend)

This story includes sexual assault,  mention of rape, and drug use I’ve been meaning to post this here for a  while, wrote my first draft back in April, so it’s taken a long time and a lot of therapy  for me to be able to think about this experience. I’ve noticed how many people’s stories take  place over weeks, months, even years, so I’m here to tell you mine: 12 hours of my life. I managed to block out a lot of memories surrounding this night, but early this  year I was mugged and my PTSD retu

rned, as did a lot of the missing memories of those 12  hours. This is the first time I’m telling anyone the full story of what happened to me, I haven’t  told my partner, my therapist, or my parents: no one knows the details. If there is anything  that should be taken away from my story it’s this: you do not have to be polite to everyone you meet. The setting: In October 2018 I was 18, in my first year  at university in a big city in the UK. I had always lived in the countryside before this, so

I  lacked street-smarts. About a year before I went to my university I had started a relationship  with this guy, Jimmy (now my ex). It was my first real relationship and I thought the world  of him, but it was not reciprocated in a loving and compassionate way. Jimmy started off as  very emotionally abusive, and got progressively worse. But that’s a whole other story. At this point Jimmy and I had been together just under a year, and had applied to universities in  the same city mostly by coin

cidence. We even ended up both moving to the same city. I wanted to have  a proper student life so I got accommodation in a student block on the other side of the city by  him. Jimmy had been using drugs for quite a while, initially starting off just smoking weed, but  this progressed rapidly and by the time we were at uni he was regularly doing a LOT of hard drugs,  plus smoking weed multiple times a day. Honestly, I don’t think he was ever not high. When we moved to our university we still saw

each other every couple of days, and he found  a regular drug dealer named Mark, that he had been using continually since we got there in September.  Jimmy used to buy from Mark multiple times a week, so on a handful of occasions I had briefly  met him. Mark lived a lot closer to my student accommodation than to Jimmy’s, so a couple of  weeks before this all happened Jimmy had started picking up drugs from Mark when he came to see  me, meaning Mark would often be outside of my accommodation. Ji

mmy had asked me a few times if  I would pick up the drugs he bought from Mark, but I had always felt weird speaking to Mark on  my own, plus I rarely smoked weed so it felt very weird picking up drugs in general. 6pm: One day, at the end of October, Jimmy had  plans to come and see me that evening and asked me again if I would pick up some weed from  Mark. I was in a good mood that day, and feeling more confident than usual, so for the first time  I agreed to. Jimmy gave me Mark’s number and sa

id that Mark would message me when he was on his  way. Only around 10 minutes later I got a message from Mark saying that he was nearly outside my  apartment, and I needed to go outside, so I did. Outside of my accommodation there was a quieter  area with a lot of benches, so I sat and waited for him. Behind me was only a wall and a  small contained area that had all of the trash bins for the building. Out of nowhere I felt  someone’s hands on my shoulders in a really weird, creepy way. I jumped

and realised it was Mark,  who I barely recognised as I had only briefly seen him a couple of times. I realise now that my  back had been to the wall and the bin storage, so he must have been waiting there. I was immediately  on guard because of how he touched my shoulders, especially because I didn’t know him, so  shifted away from him as he sat down next to me. He began talking to me as if we were  buddies, asking a million questions about me, even deeply personal questions. The whole time  I

was deflecting, not wanting to give out any information, so I started asking him questions  instead. He began a deep monologue about himself and his life, where he openly told me he had just  gotten out of prison a few months before (it was for armed something…some kind of violent crime).  I engaged his ramblings, just nodding along, but still trying to get back to the whole point  of just picking up drugs for my boyfriend. 7pm: I have always been able to talk to anyone, and was always taught 

to be nice when someone is talking, so I ended up sitting there for around an hour trying to get  the conversation back to the reason I was there: to pick up drugs for my boyfriend and go. It was  so long it actually started getting dark. This guy just kept talking. I knew my boyfriend was going  to be coming over soon, so I kept looking at my phone to see if he was on his way, but he hadn’t  replied. Eventually I told Mark that I needed to get back inside as I was meeting up with my  boyfriend

soon, and then going clubbing after with some friends, so I needed to get ready, and could  I please just pick up the drugs. He then said “Oh, well I can’t give them to you here, there is  CCTV everywhere. We can go inside so that I can give them to you”. I had witnessed him giving  my boyfriend drugs in this same spot countless times before so I knew this was bullshit. I didn’t want Mark to come back to my apartment so I told him that he could go into the lobby of  my building where there was a

disabled bathroom, and he could give them to me there. He agreed  and followed me inside. We went into the bathroom (which was very large, so I didn’t  have to be too close to him), and he locked the door behind us. He then began fiddling with  something in his pocket (I assumed the drugs), but instead pulled his trousers completely  down and started peeing in the toilet. I was so freaked out…this guy just presented his  dick to me and began peeing, but I rationalised that there was no way he h

ad any sexual motive  because he had met me and my boyfriend together, so knew I was in a relationship. I  figured he just really needed to pee. I had kept my eyes shut the whole time, and when  he flushed I thought that finally he would give me the drugs that I was there to collect (mind you,  this whole thing had been going on for about an hour and a half by this point). He then said “I  really want to roll myself a joint but there’s no space in here to do it. Can I come and roll  it on your d

esk and then I’ll give you Jimmy’s stuff”. I asked again if he could just give it to  me now, and he said no, saying that I was being rude for not inviting him in. By this point I was  wanting to get ready to go out with my friends later that evening, and knew my boyfriend would be  coming by any minute, so figured it’d be okay even though I didn’t want this. It’s worth noting that  I was emotionally abused by my boyfriend and knew he would be mad at me if I didn’t collect his  drugs, or if I an

noyed Mark because he was his favourite dealer. I honestly figured that Mark  was harmless (despite him telling me he was a violent criminal), and just assured myself that  he was only a bit creepy, and it would be fine. 8pm: Reluctantly, I took Mark up to my apartment, opened the door  and let him in. I said he had to roll his joint fast, because I had to get ready. Finally, he gave  me the drugs that my boyfriend wanted so I felt better at that point. He walked over to my desk,  moved all my t

hings to the side and sat down, getting out the things to roll his joint. I don’t  know how to roll a joint, but I’ve seen Jimmy do it countless times, so I know it doesn’t take  more than a minute or so. Mark continues trying to talk to me, but at this point my answers are  getting shorter and shorter. He rolls this joint so slowly I cannot even describe it. He then said,  “Well, I can’t smoke this outside, so is it cool if I just stay here and smoke it, it’ll only take  a five minutes to smoke

”. I said no and told him again that I had to get ready. He replied,  “it’s okay, you can get ready with me here”. By this point I was over it, messaged my boyfriend  again to tell him to hurry up. Mark asked me once again and, in my frustration, just wanting this  guy out of my apartment, I just said “Okay sure, but be quick”. I then went out of my room into  the shared kitchen (I only had two flatmates, and no one else was in the apartment that night),  grabbed some wine and a glass so that I

could have some solitary pre-drinks, and returned to  my room. I sat for another 15 minutes being increasingly less polite, but he kept talking to  me. I drank my first glass of wine pretty fast, and decided if Mark was going to take ages,  then I would just get ready to go out with my friends. I told him that as soon as he finished  smoking he could just leave on his own, so I left him sitting at my desk, took some clothes  into the bathroom and jumped into the shower. 9pm: Maybe a minute or so

into my shower I heard some soft footsteps outside the door, like  a scene from a freaking horror movie, I saw the door handle slowly being pushed down. Thank fuck I  remembered to lock the door. All of a sudden Mark began banging on the door. I turned the shower  off and just said “umm…hi?” through the door. He shouted through the door, asking me to let him in  because he needed to pee again. I obviously said no, and just got dried and dressed (thankfully I  took clothes to the bathroom) as fa

st as I could. By this point I figured there was no way he was  going to leave my apartment until I did, so I did my makeup as fast as I physically could and  messaged my friends that I’d be coming to theirs sooner than I had planned. I still hadn’t gotten  a reply from Jimmy, so I just told him that I was going out early and not to come over. I got ready  to go, and told Mark that I was leaving now, and he needed to come downstairs with me. He was still  sitting at my desk, and ignored what I w

as saying. He asked if he could stay in my room while I was  out because he was tired and wanted a nap. Finally I was firm with him and after a lot of convincing  he left with me. I made sure to order an Uber to my friends place so that he couldn’t try and  walk with me. By the time we got outside my Uber was nearly there. He stood with me, looking  over my shoulder at my phone the whole time. My Uber finally arrived. As I got into it, Mark  straight up walked around the other side and got in. I

was in disbelief and laughed, then told the  Uber driver that I didn’t know who this guy was, and that he wasn’t getting in with me. The Uber  driver was not as polite as I was and told Mark to get out, so he did. 10pm: I sat there on the way to my friend’s house,  and finally felt calm that I had gotten away from Mark. I called my friend from the Uber and  told her what happened, so she said she would come outside of her building to get me with a  group of her flatmates. My friend’s accommodat

ion was not far from mine. It took longer to  get there by car than on foot because of the one-way system in the city, but I didn’t care  at this point. I arrived in about 10-15 minutes, with my friend meeting me at my Uber, then  went inside her flat to her group of friends. She had quite a few people with her, and I  suddenly noticed that one of her male flatmates was talking to someone slightly away from the  group. I looked over and suddenly realised he was talking Mark. He must have been lo

oking at the  address I put in while I was ordering my Uber. I whispered to my friend, and she freaked out, and  went inside with me straight away. I was super freaked out that this guy just wouldn’t leave  me alone, he refused to leave my side for the last few hours, and now he had followed  me to my friend’s house?! Unbelievable. Honestly I felt much safer now, and met a few  creeps in my time so just decided to get over it by having a nice time with my friend, so we  sat in her kitchen having

a chat and some drinks. 11pm: After a while talking to her I almost forgot what had happened just an hour ago, and was getting  increasingly tipsy from the wine. The kitchen door opened and her male flatmate comes inside  announcing that he invited a guy in who had given him free weed. You guessed it…Mark walked in. Mark  addressed me by name, and walked over putting his hands around my waist from behind. I get pretty  confident when I drink so I had no problem pushing him off me and announcing

to everyone in  a jokey way, “Yeah this is the guy who has been following me around all evening, I don’t know even  him”. Even in this room with all of my friend’s flatmates I still didn’t feel safe. He stayed away  from me, looking at me for a while from the other side of the kitchen, but I just ignored him. My friend could tell I was uncomfortable, so suggested we go and drink in her room. Around  30 minutes after going into her room the door slams opens suddenly, and Mark is standing there. 

He says “oh, I was looking for the bathroom, can I use yours? (My friend had an en suite).” She tells  him to get the fuck out, and he does. I’m honestly just bored of this guy’s constant presence at this  point, so we decide to just go to the club early. 12pm: We grab our stuff, run past the kitchen door and outside. My friend  orders us an Uber, and we get in and go to the club. After a while some of her flatmates join  us, but Mark does not (thank fuck). The people who had been in the kitche

n said that Mark left  shortly after he saw me and my friend leave, but there was no sign of him now. I just try and  enjoy the night but being a poor student I can’t afford any more drinks at the club. As I begin to  sober up I realise how shaken up and creeped out the whole evening made me, and I don’t feel safe. 2am: After only a couple of hours I decide that I  just want to go home and sleep because this whole experience freaked me the fuck out. I  take an Uber back, use my key card to get i

nto my apartment building, go upstairs and into  my apartment. I stared getting ready for bed, put on some pjs and started taking off my makeup.  All of a sudden, I heard a loud knock on my door. I had no clue who it was, but since it was still  early ish for a Friday night I thought it was Jimmy. Maybe he finally decided to show up. My door didn’t have a peephole, so I walked to the door in my pjs, unlocked it planning  to open it a tiny bit to see who it was and then BAM… The door flew open so

fast that  I was pushed backwards into my apartment, and then shoved into my room (which was directly  across from the front door). In my panic I froze, then looked up only to realise that Mark was  now standing in my apartment. The realisation started to sink in: Mark had just forced his  way into my room, and was now trapped with him. He was visibly angry and very high. He locked the  door behind him and began rambling about how I was so rude for not inviting him in with my friends,  for igno

ring him, for not letting him in the Uber etc. I was terrified, so I ran over to my bed  and grabbed my phone. He walked over behind me and began grabbing me, touching me as much as  he could, so I shouted at him to get off. He saw my phone in my hand, and immediately smiled,  and told me to open the camera. I was terrified, so I did as he said, and he said he wanted a  picture of us together. I did as I was told, and took a selfie with him while he posed with  his arms around me and then kissin

g my cheek and my neck. He then screamed at me to unlock my  phone, so I did. He made me open up my messages and send Jimmy the selfie of us sitting next to  each other on my bed. He waited for it to send and then grabbed my phone and put it down on the desk. He sat at my desk for the next 4-5 hours, talking at me continually, saying how I was so rude, I  needed someone to teach me some manners; how I had to do what he said because he was older than  I was; how Jimmy wasn’t good enough for me; h

ow I was so beautiful and how he knew that I needed to  be with him. He told me that his girlfriend knew he had been at my house that evening and now she  said he can’t go home, and it was all my fault. The whole time I continued bargaining with him,  trying to get him to leave, but it didn’t work. Occasionally I would just lie down on my bed or  sit and not speak. Each time I did he would get up and wrap his arms around me, or try and spoon  me, stroking my face, trying to kiss me, and trying t

o take my clothes off and touch me. Every  time I fought him off, he would get angry again, and go and sit at the desk and keep shouting. I  knew that this guy had previously been in prison for some kind of violent crime, so I didn’t want  to piss him off. I just sat there for hours and quietly sobbed, too scared of trying to leave  because I would have had to walk past him to get to the door. I was out of options, I didn’t  know if I could get out without angering him, I couldn’t call the polic

e because he had my  phone, and lastly, my flatmates weren’t home,so my screams meant nothing. 6am: While he was sitting at my desk he kept smoking  more weed or taking a line of whatever drug, so was becoming more and more out of it. He  was becoming sleepier as he smoked more weed, until I was able to speak between his ramblings,  so I gently said I was going to the bathroom. I noticed he had his eyes partially closed  and figured I only had one chance, so I took the opportunity, grabbed my ph

one  off the desk as fast as I could, unlocked the door and got the hell out of the apartment. The one thing I will always remember is being in tears, pressing the button for the elevator  to come probably about 50 times because I was so scared that he was going to come after me.  As I got into the elevator I heard him come out of my apartment, shouting my name, but the  elevator doors closed as he looked at me. I was able to get downstairs and out the building.  I ran around the corner of the b

uilding in my pjs and manically dialled the number for the  police, told them what happened and that this guy had been in prison until recently. The next  thing I knew around 5 police cars showed up. I was in such a bad state and called Jimmy to  tell him what happened. He was still awake, and hadn’t come to visit the night before  because he was with a girl (who is a “friend”), and said that now he didn’t want to come to be  with me because he had some weed on him and didn’t want to be near the

police. I told him to get  to my place right now, and he reluctantly did. The aftermath: The police had to force entry to my apartment because Mark had locked himself  if, and barricaded the door. They arrested him and he ended up going to prison for drug charges, but  not for what he did/tried to do to me. The police said they couldn’t prosecute him because I had  “willingly” let him into my apartment earlier in the night, and he hadn’t physically done anything  (sure, let’s disregard the sexu

al assault, attempted rape, plus holding me hostage in my own  apartment). After I had given my statements to the police I went back inside and saw that my room  was trashed. Mark had thrown things around and smashed things in anger. I’m so glad I got out  when I did because I can’t imagine what would have happened if I was trapped in the crossfire. I don’t know what happened to Mark after that, but I moved out of that apartment a couple of  months later, and away from that city as soon as I cou

ld when covid hit, to make sure Mark  could never find me. I stupidly stayed in my abusive relationship for another year or so, but  then finally realized that I was too good to put up with Jimmy’s shit. I had such severe PTSD  from the incident that I couldn’t go outside for months after, which messed up the whole  first year at university. It has taken until now for me to be able to walk around at night, and  being alone in public is still really difficult. I’m well aware that the ending is ve

ry  anticlimactic, and I wish I had been able to advocate for myself but I just shut  down emotionally afterwards. I can’t get too much into the details of the sexual assault and  attempted rape because honestly thinking about it makes me want to throw up, but I realise I was  so lucky to be able to fight him off every time, because without a doubt he wanted to hurt me.  After this all happened I started volunteering with people in prison for crimes like sexual  assault to try and prevent them f

rom ever reoffending. I think it is my way of advocating  for others because I couldn’t advocate for myself. If you take one thing away from this: stop  being so polite. I was raised to be nice to everyone and I realise now that being polite  worsened everything. I wish I had never been polite enough to pick up drugs for my  ex, or polite enough to let Mark into my apartment when he begged. So to Mark,  fuck you, and please…let’s not meet again.