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Driving into my driveway, my heart was pounding so hard it almost hurt. It was like that every time I came home. Would I ever be able to come home without this paralyzing fear? I sat frozen in the car. Trying to get up the courage to open my car door, I took a deep breath and squinted into the darkness. It wasn't a very long walk from my car to the front door. I just wish those shrubs weren't there. I had to walk past the shrubs lining the sidewalk up to our house. Almost every time I walked near them, he jumped out and threw me to the ground, fighting me to rip my clothes off. I fought like a wild cat and screamed bloody murder until he ran-ran like the coward that he was.

I just came in from a date. I had a great evening; I started to unbutton my blouse and I opened the closet door. Looking for a clothes hanger I noticed a movement. My stomach started heaving, my whole body tightened with the "fight or flight" response that had become my constant companion. Then, before I could move, he was on top of me. With me on the floor flailing and kicking out as hard as my body would let me. I let out a scream but the creep jumped out of the window before any of my family could make it in to my room. Once again he escaped, and I was left trembling, ashamed and wondering when the next time would be.

"The creep" as I call him, tormented me from the time I was 14 years old until I was 17 years old. I am now 49 years old and cannot bear to call him by his name. So, he remains "the Creep". He knew every trick in the book for breaking and entering. One night I came in to find all of my souvenirs, mementos and pictures destroyed-in bizarre ways. My stuffed animals were ripped apart, my tickets from favorite concerts (which I had hanging on my bulletin board) were cut into pieces and every picture he could find of me had cigarette holes burned through my eyes. I even found a picture of me in the bath tub drain covered with water- my eyes snubbed out.

One morning I went outside to feed my beloved palomino horse and found that she was hurt. Someone had tried a "gut shot" on her with a shotgun (shooting her in the abdomen with a spray of pellets). Some neighborhood farm boys staked out my house for nights trying to catch him in the act again-he was too smart for that.
I was now afraid of the dark. That was something new for me and brought about new dilemmas. Late at night, lying in bed with my heart pounding its way into my throat, I contemplated getting up to

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