by Ann Richards

Created on: May 02, 2008   Last Updated: December 03, 2008

Prisoners in our home...now were free!'
I was chatting to my neighbors one afternoon when a tall dark police uniform walked over to join us. This is Bill, he's a local police officer', said my neighbor. I smiled and shook his hand. As I did I noticed he was shaking. He was obviously shy, so when he suggested meeting for coffee, I felt sorry for him and agreed. I'd recently moved to a new house in my home town of Ontario, Canada, had just lost my mom and separated from my husband- I felt I needed a friend.

Obsessed and dangerous
We had coffee a couple of times. Bill seemed nice, so one evening I visited his place. he was listening to heavy metal music. This is awful music for someone your age', I joked, but as soon as I said it I knew I'd make a mistake. Bill's eyes flashed with anger, and he grabbed my shoulder so hard that I slipped over. In a shock, I called my friend Barbara to pick me upon. "That's it I told her. "I don't need a friend like that."
But bill had other ideas. He began bombarding me with calls 24 hours a day, saying he loved me. My eldest children weren't living at home but if my daughter Michelle, then 14 answered the phone, he'd demand to speak to me. I tried to let Bill down gently but he wouldn't listen. "It's OK that you don't love me. You'll grow to love me', he pleaded. At first I though that as Bill was in the police he couldn't possibly be a danger. But as time went on, I started to get more and more scared. he began sleeping outside my house in his patrol car, so that he'd be there first thing in the morning. He'd insist on driving us wherever we needed to go. If we refused to get get in the car, he'd threaten to hurt us. The police would believe me over you, 'he said. terrified of what he'd do if we refused, we agreed. Michelle and I began sleeping in the living room, so that if Bill ever broke into the house we could run for the door. I couldn't bear to see Michelle so scared. Steeling myself I went to Bill's police department to report him. Incredibly, they told me, "Bill has a problem with alcohol. Why not be his friend and help him through it. From that point I felt helpless. There was nowhere else to turn.
The sinister stalker. Every time I left the house, Bill followed me. Once as I queued in the supermarket, he came up behind me and kicked me in the shin. 'Why didn't you call me to take you shopping? He yelled. Everyone stared-I felt so ashamed. Then Bill started to harass my friends. I even got sacked from my job because he was

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