You Never Can Say Goodbye - 1. You Never Can Say Goodbye

I had just returned home after graduating from college and was planning on taking a short break so I could have some fun before I started looking for a job. I felt I had earned the right to relax and enjoy life for a while since I'd just spent four years studying and meeting all of the course requirements to earn my bachelor's degree.

When I first got home, most of my old friends from high school were there too. They were either home for the summer before returning to college or just taking a few weeks off before starting a job. Seeing there were so many people around that I knew and was friendly with, the first part of the summer was a blast. It was a series of cookouts, parties, clubbing and even a few road trips as we headed to the beach, amusement parks and other places where those our age tended to hang out. As the summer progressed, however, all of the good times began to wind down. Slowly, those beginning their careers left the area, and then those returning to college took off to go back to their campuses. It didn't take long after they left before I became hopelessly bored.

After wallowing in self-pity for a while, I decided it was time to get out of the house and start meeting new people, so I headed down to one of the local gay bars. I had been out since my freshman year in high school, so everyone around, including my parents, knew about my sexual orientation, so I didn't have to hide who I was. That's why I felt the best place to meet someone compatible was at a gay establishment.

It was during my 'night out' when I first spotted Clark. It all started out innocently enough, when I noticed this cute guy sitting at the bar chatting with the bartender. I was debating if I felt brave enough to go over and introduce myself when he casually turned in my direction and we made eye contact. At first, we merely smiled and nodded our acknowledgment of each other, but then after a few more minutes passed by, he got up and walked over to where I was sitting.

"Hi. I'm Clark Reistetter. Do you come here often?" he asked, as his way of breaking the ice.

"Hi. I'm Mason Wharley," I replied while looking at him more closely. "I've come here a few times before, but I've been away at school, so I haven't been here for a while. I just got back a few months ago, after graduating."

"Really? Where did you graduate from?" he followed, sounding interested.

"Duke," I answered, and he started to grimace.

"I guess that makes us rivals of sorts, because I attended North Carolina State," he replied with a touch of sarcasm. As he had been walking over, I'd noticed that Clark was a little taller than average, about six-feet, two-inches in height (188 cm), with the bluest eyes I think I had ever seen. They were set off nicely against his raven-colored hair and five-o'clock shadow, but he was also slender, not skinny, and appeared to be quite fit. "Are you really a devil, though?" Clark teased.

I knew this was his playful attempt to make a pass at me and see if I was up to being a little wicked, while playing on my school's nickname. I thought quickly about how I was going to respond to his query.

"Going to Duke made me a Blue Devil, but I guess I have enough of the real thing in me to ensure that I have a good time when I go out," I teased, while waiting to see how he was going to react to my not-so-subtle meaning. He immediately sat down on the bar stool next to me and got comfortable.

"Hmmm. It sounds like you might be worth getting to know then," he countered playfully as he did a quick visual inspection of my assets.

"Since you went to N. C. State, does it mean you're a wolf?" I countered, referring to his alma mater's nickname. I was also busy trying to figure out what had attracted him to me, since I never considered myself 'hot' or a 'catch', although I did feel I was decent looking. I was a little shorter than he was, at five-feet, eleven-inches tall (180 cm) and I had mousy brown hair and dark brown eyes. I also didn't have much facial hair, unlike him, but I was in decent shape since I'd played soccer in high school and college.

"I'm definitely part of the Wolfpack, but I guess I can be a pretty aggressive wolf at times too," he answered with a wink. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Sure," I agreed before giving the bartender my order.

"So what was your major?" he asked next as we were sipping our drinks.

"I was an economics major with a math minor," I answered, but I wondered if he was truly interested in what my degree was in or if he was just trying to keep the conversation going. "What was yours?"

"Damn, that's some serious shit," he responded, but I wasn't sure if his expression signified admiration or disgust when he heard what my major was. "Mine was computer science. I guess I'm a bit of a technology geek because I like messing around with all my tech toys."

We talked about a lot of different things after that, such as comparing our college experiences and discussing what we liked best and least about the years we'd spent there. Then we compared what it had been like when we came out and even discussed some of our early attempts at exploring our sexuality, but we didn't really go into detail about our sexual exploits. When the conversation began to wane, he asked if I wanted to dance and I accepted his offer. He had some pretty good moves on the dance floor too, and it didn't take long for me to realize that he was a pretty 'hands on' sort of guy and liked to make body contact.

At first it was just the touch of his fingers as they slid over my arm or hand, but he would also casually brush against me with his body before he started to get even more aggressive. This happened when he moved behind me while we were dancing, and then he began to rub the front of his body against the back of mine. At the same time, his hands began to rub up and down my spine, along my arms and even across my butt before he wrapped his arms around my chest so he could start exploring that area as well. He never overtly reached for my crotch, though, but after he moved in front of me again he made sure our junk was rubbing against one another as we danced.

Even though I thought he'd been moving a little quickly at times, I still had a good time while we were together. When I got ready to leave, he asked if I wanted to go back to his place and spend the night. Even though I'd enjoyed myself, I felt it was a little too soon to be making that kind of move, so I quickly made up an excuse to avoid putting myself in that situation. I told him that I had an interview in the morning and needed to go home so in the morning I could shower, put on my suit and get to my appointment on time. He seemed disappointed but asked if I'd be returning there again in the near future, so I told him I would, and he said he'd see me around then.

When I went home and got in bed, my head was spinning, but it wasn't just because of the alcohol I'd had to drink. I was also confused by the attention Clark had been showing me. Was he thinking that maybe we might be compatible and was possibly interested in pursuing a relationship, or was he merely looking for a quick hookup and score? I didn't want him to think I was easy and some kind of boy toy that he could merely play with, but his actions had me confused. Was he truly interested in me as a person or was he just looking for someone to take to bed so he could get his rocks off?

I didn't go back to the bar during the week and opted to spend my time doing job searches online and calling different places to see if they had any openings. I would first ask to speak with someone in the Human Resources department, and then I'd tell that person about my degree. I'd follow it up by asking if they had any current or projected openings that I might be suited for, and if they did, I would give them my name and cell number. I would also promise to send them my resume and cover letter, but I would ask if they preferred for me to send it through the mail or via the internet. I had to keep pressing to find a job and couldn't wait much longer before I started work, because I had college loans that I would soon have to start paying off.

On Friday night, I went back to the same bar again and spotted Clark the moment I walked in. He was sitting at the bar, and even though the place was pretty crowded, he seemed to be ignoring everyone there. He was focused on the front door and immediately noticed me when I entered. As soon as he saw me, his face lit up and he waved for me to come over and join him.

"I was wondering if you were going to show," he commented, as he signaled for me to sit on the stool next to him. "I've been here every night waiting to see you again."

"Really? That's sweet," I replied as I sat down beside him. He also ordered drinks for both of us and got me the same thing I'd had the previous time I was with him. We then sat and sipped our drinks for a few minutes as we considered where we should go from here.

"So do you want to dance?" he finally asked to end the lengthy and awkward silence.

"Yeah, ok," I agreed, and then I followed him out to the dance floor.

He picked up right where he'd left off the previous time we were there together and began to rub against me during every dance. He also started asking for more information about me, such as where I lived, but he also wanted my phone number. I didn't want to give him too much yet, but he was really sweet about it, so I finally gave in. I took his phone so I could enter my name and cell number in it for him, while he did the same with my phone. That seemed to please him, but he suddenly became upset when I refused his offer to go home with him again. I thought fast and told him that I'd agreed to go on a trip with my parents this weekend and we were leaving early in the morning. He wasn't happy about it, but he didn't push the issue, so I told him I'd probably see him the following weekend.

The next few weekends went about the same, with us spending time together at the bar and then Clark trying to get me to go home with him afterward, but I kept putting him off. Eventually, I decided that he seemed nice enough, and I was definitely attracted to him, so I finally accepted his offer to spend the night.

Although I'd been worried about doing this, the night was incredible. I'd been with other guys before, and I was definitely not a virgin, but Clark made me feel things like never before. I not only spent Friday night with him, but I willingly stayed the entire weekend at his place. It was clear to me that this was the beginning of a wonderful relationship.

I was in heaven and basically walked on air for the next couple of months. Not only did I have a great boyfriend and a fantastic sex life, but he also helped me get a job with the same tech company that he worked for. Although we worked in the same building, we were in different departments, but we could ride back and forth to work together too. Shortly thereafter, I agreed to move in with him.

Everything was going fine until one afternoon when I agreed to go to lunch with my manager and two of my co-workers. Clark must have seen us leaving the building, since his department was located against the back wall and overlooked the parking lot, so he confronted me about it on the ride home.

"Who was that guy you were so friendly with when I saw you leaving at lunchtime?" he demanded once we were on the road.

"Clark, that was my boss and two other guys I work with," I shot back, wondering where this was coming from. "I wasn't being overly friendly with anyone in particular, but we were all in a good mood because our manager was taking us out to lunch. It was a reward for a project we'd just completed, because our boss raved that we'd done an exceptional job."

"Mace, I saw how close you two were sitting in the back seat of the car," Clark insisted. I immediately noticed the muscles in his body tensing up, and his face was starting to turn a reddish hue as the blood rushed to it.

"We weren't sitting close at all," I countered, not believing what I was hearing. "He sat on one side of the seat, and I sat on the other."

"It looked to me that both of you slid a little closer to each other after you closed your doors," he continued and I knew he was accusing me of cheating on him.

"It's just your imagination," I replied. "Hell, I'm pretty sure the guy is straight, and I even think he has a girlfriend."

"Sure he does," Clark mockingly replied to my response, while making a face that told me he didn't believe what I'd just told him.

That was only the beginning of the downward spiral in our relationship. After that, I caught Clark checking my cell phone so he could look at the call log and text messages to see who I'd been talking to. I think he also tried to figure out my password so he could listen to my voice mail too. If that wasn't bad enough, I also noticed him walking by my department several different times during the workday. Since we didn't even work on the same floor, it was obvious what he was doing. It caused me to have serious doubts now as to whether I'd made a wise decision by moving in with him.

One day I decided to call my mother while I was at work so I could ask her to call me that evening, after I got home from work. I told her I wanted her to invite me to a cookout at the house on the weekend, because I wanted to see how Clark was going to react. It would also get me away from him and give me some breathing room for a while, because I was beginning to feel suffocated by his constant surveillance and hovering over me.

When the call came later, Clark listened in as I spoke with my mother. "Sure, Mom. That sounds great. I haven't spent much time with you and Dad lately, so this will work out fine. What time do you want me to show up on Saturday... Ok, Mom, I'll see you then."

"Who were you talking to?" Clark demanded when I'd ended the call.

"Didn't you hear me say 'Mom' a couple of times?" I shot back, irritated by both his question and his attitude.

"Yeah, but was that really who you were talking to?" he pressed, while acting as if he didn't believe me.

"Of course it was," I assured him. "I don't go around calling anyone else 'Mom', except for my mother."

"What did she want?" he followed, still eyeing me suspiciously.

"She invited me over for a family cookout on Saturday," I answered, only telling him as much as I needed to.

"Am I invited too?" he continued, making it clear that he didn't trust me to do this alone. I had a feeling he thought I was meeting someone else.

"I said it was a family cookout," I reiterated somewhat forcefully. "She thinks we're only roommates." I knew this response would probably seem rude in a normal relationship, but I needed to get away from him for a while.

"I think she wants to talk to me about my father's birthday, which is coming up in a few weeks," I stated, much to his continued irritation. "Since Dad likes to do the grilling, I think she feels it will give us time to make plans and discuss what we want to get him."

"So I'm not invited?" he asked, to confirm that he was being left out. I could see he was becoming very upset again.

"Not this time," I concurred. I knew he was angry about this, but I felt he could allow me to have some time to myself. The only time we were ever apart up to this point was while we were at work.

He immediately stormed off to his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. I didn't let it bother me though, because by this point I was already making plans to end the relationship anyway. Going home on Saturday would allow me to ask my parents if I could move back in, at least until I found my own place.

The rest of the work week was very tense, and Clark was in a foul mood the entire time. I knew he was upset about this, but I no longer cared. You can't have a relationship without trust, and he had obviously proved he didn't trust me. I'm not going to go through life with someone constantly looking over my shoulder and questioning everything I was doing.

I felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders as I drove away from the apartment that afternoon and headed over to my parents' house. My mom and dad were both happy to see me, and we talked about a number of things before my dad went outside to fire up the grill. My mother and I carried the salads and other items out to the picnic table, and then we sat down and had a lovely meal together.

At one point I looked up and saw Clark drive by. My parents lived on a corner lot, so he was fairly easy to spot through the chain-link fence. I pretended like I hadn't noticed him, but then I saw him drive by again a few minutes later. I didn't remember ever telling him where my parents lived, since it wasn't necessary after I'd moved in with him, so I wasn't sure how he got the information. That's when I began to wonder if he'd followed me there.

Even though I was trying very hard to keep my parents from noticing that anything was wrong, I was getting madder and madder by the second. If I'd had any doubts before that Clark didn't trust me, this helped to prove my point. I definitely wasn't about to stay in a relationship like this, so I asked my parents if I could move back home.

"Isn't it working out with your roommate, honey?" Mom asked, looking concerned.

"No. He's not exactly the person I thought he was," I replied, trying to keep the conversation to a minimum.

"Didn't he help you get your job?" Mom followed, looking at me slightly confused this time.

"Yes, he did, and I will be eternally grateful to him for that, but I just can't live with him any longer," I confessed, trying not to sound too desperate. "He has some extremely annoying habits that have been getting on my nerves."

"Of course you can move back here," Dad chipped in, moving the conversation along. "Are you going to need help?"

"Yes, if you don't mind," I quickly agreed. "I can't very well ask Clark to help me, so I plan on renting a truck, and then I'll call to let you know when I'm able to do it. Thanks, both of you, for bailing me out again, but it will only be temporary. Since I have a job now, I'll start looking for my own place as soon as possible."

"There's no rush, and you can stay with us for as long as you like," my dad suggested and I appreciated his offer.

"Thanks, but I'll try not to make it too long," I responded. "In fact, I was surprised you hadn't already rented out my room or turned it into something else that would benefit the two of you."

"No, that will always be your room, honey," Mom quickly replied. "We figured maybe you'd use it from time to time when you stayed over on the holidays or whatever. We even bought another bedroom set and put it in there since you took your old bedroom set with you."

"Geez, you didn't have to do that. I'm working locally so even if I get a place of my own it will be fairly close by, so I'm not sure it will be necessary for me to use my old room after this," I stated, as I glanced at her.

"You may move away later, so it will always be here waiting for you, even when you have a family," Mom answered. "You and your spouse can use your room, and if you have any children, they can stay in the guest room."

"Let's not start rushing things," I stated, knowing that my mom secretly wanted grandchildren. I wasn't sure if that was going to happen though, since I was gay. It would depend on whether the person I married wanted to adopt or use a surrogate to have a family.

When I got back to the apartment, I decided to confront Clark. "I noticed that you drove by my parents' house a couple of times earlier." I did this to see his reaction, and I'll admit he seemed a little embarrassed, but that was probably only due to the fact that he'd been caught.

"Yeah, so what?" he shot back, sounding irritated.

"It only proves what I've suspected all along. You don't trust me," I announced, equally irritated. "How did you even know where they lived?"

"I don't know. I guess I must have seen it on something," he offered weakly. "Maybe it was written on something when you moved here, or I might have seen it on an old resume or something."

"Yeah, right," I countered, letting my hostility show. "It's more likely that you followed me there. I'm sorry, but I can't stay in a relationship like this. I won't live with a guy who doesn't trust me."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he screamed as the blood rushed to his head. "Just because I happened to drive by their house doesn't mean I was checking up on you."

"Of course not. They only live in a subdivision that isn't on a major route and isn't a shortcut to anyplace, so you can count me skeptical," I said in my best mocking tone. "Admit it! Of course you were checking up on me and showing your lack of trust, just like you've done with everything else."

"Now you're sounding paranoid," he shot back, trying to throw this back on me.

"Am I?" I scoffed. "You mean you haven't checked my phone to see who I was talking to or been checking my messages? Are you pretending that you don't walk by my department all the time to see who I'm with or what I might be doing, just like this afternoon? I'm tired of being spied on, so I'm moving out. You can have your place to yourself again."

"If you try to leave me, I'll hurt you and your parents," he threatened, and by the look on his face I truly believed he was serious. "Don't do this, because you won't live long enough to be with whoever else you're interested in."

"I'm not interested in anyone else, but I can't stand living like this," I shouted back. "Go find someone else to be your captive, because I'm not a human Ken doll that you can play with and keep locked in your toy box. You'll have to find some other guy to play out that fantasy for you."

Since his threat had actually scared me, I left the apartment again just as soon as he went to the toilet. I didn't go home, though, but drove over to the police station instead. Once there, I filed a report about the threat Clark had just made against me and my parents. An officer took down my statement, but I soon had the feeling that nothing was going to be done about it. I felt this way because I overheard a couple of the cops joking about it being the result of a 'gay cat fight' and they doubted it would lead to a 'homo-cide'. I just thanked them for their help and left, before heading over to my parents house next.

I felt a little safer there, since they had a security system, but I knew that wasn't enough. I hurriedly explained to them about Clark's threat and told them I was planning to take a couple of days off from work to begin the week because I didn't want to run into him there either. I told my dad that I'd get a truck for Tuesday and we'd move while Clark was at work if he was able to take the day off. Dad said he'd call in first thing Monday and take a few days off too, claiming a family emergency.

Once we'd thought about this some more, my dad also suggested that he'd call his lawyer Monday morning and have him get a restraining order against Clark so he couldn't come near any of us. I thought that was a great idea, but silently I prayed that nothing else happened before he was able to do that.

Luckily, I hadn't taken everything with me when I'd moved out, so I still had some clothes at the house that I could wear. They weren't my best things, but they would suffice until I moved my other things back home. I also spent some of my time looking out the windows to see if Clark was driving by again, but I never spotted him. It didn't mean that he hadn't gone by, but if he had, then I just hadn't caught him doing it.

Monday morning, Dad called his lawyer as soon as he thought his office was open and explained the situation to him. I also told Dad to tell his attorney that I'd filed a police report shortly after Clark made the first threat, so the lawyer said he would take care of everything. He called back later and told us that we would need to appear in court later so I could testify about the threat in front of a judge. We told him that wouldn't be a problem and agreed to meet him there. When I called in to work, I explained the situation as best I could to my boss and told him I needed to take the next couple of days off. He wasn't thrilled about it, but he agreed to give me the time I needed. I also asked him to do me another favor and discreetly check with Clark's boss to see if he was taking off too. He promised he'd do what he could and then call me back.

All of us went to the courthouse later since we didn't want to leave anyone at home alone until this was settled. We were greeted by Dad's lawyer once we got there, and he pointed out a sign to us before we entered the courtroom, so we each turned off our cell phones before going inside.

We weren't in there for very long, but I explained everything to the judge that Clark had said. I also told the judge that Clark and I worked in the same building, but not in the same department, so he agreed to write some additional provisions into the restraining order to address that situation as well. He said he couldn't keep Clark completely away from me at work since it was possible that we might pass in the hallways or on the elevator, but he could include a clause that Clark wasn't permitted to confront or speak to me while I was at work, which included prohibiting Clark from going near my department. I agreed that would be fine.

After we left the courtroom, we thanked Dad's lawyer and made our way to the exit. Before we went outside, we turned our cell phones back on and checked our messages. I had one from my manager, so I listened to it.

"Mason, I spoke to Clark's manager and found out that he called in sick today, but that's all I was able to learn."

This concerned me greatly. Had Clark called in sick so he could lie in wait for me at the apartment, since he probably figured I was going to go there to start moving my things out? I'm sure he'd say it was only so he could talk me out of leaving, but I was more inclined to believe that he was waiting to beat me up or possibly even to murder me. I sincerely hoped the piece of paper we got today would prevent anything like that from happening, but I wasn't convinced it would be enough.

When we got home, my dad went to turn off the alarm, but it didn't seem to be working. He immediately called the company to report the problem, and they said they'd send a tech out to see what was wrong. When the guy showed up a couple of hours later, he examined the system and then explained the problem to us.

"I'm not sure how it was done, but someone had disabled your security system earlier," he told us. "This wasn't just a technical problem either, because I can tell your system was deliberately tampered with. It would take a very tech-savvy person to pull something like this off, and it may have been done by someone who has worked with security systems before but not in a job like mine. This person would have had to worked on the other end of the business, with the electronic configurations, as well as the alarm and reporting systems."

Even though this guy had no idea who was responsible, I had a very strong suspicion about who might have done this. After the tech called his office and worked with a technical rep at their headquarters, they brought the security system back online. Now that the problem had been resolved, my dad thanked the man and he left, but as soon as he was gone, I told my dad what I suspected.

After I finished discussing my suspicions with my dad, I called my manager again and asked if he'd do another favor for me. He wouldn't commit himself until I explained what I wanted, so I asked if he'd call Clark's manager in the morning to see if Clark had showed up for work or if he'd called in again. I told my boss that I was planning to move out of the apartment Clark and I shared and didn't want to have a confrontation while I was doing it. After thinking about it briefly, he agreed to do this for me and promised to call me back as soon as he found out something.

I wanted to go over to the police station and report this incident, as well as notify them about my suspicion that I thought Clark had been the person who disabled my parents' security system. However, since we didn't have any proof that Clark had been involved, my dad talked me out of the idea and we switched to talking about getting my belongings from the apartment instead. I had already reserved a truck for the next day and hoped we'd be able to get everything moved while Clark was still at work, figuring that should allow us to avoid any problems. However, I told my dad I might have to cancel the truck at the last minute if I learned Clark wasn't at work again.

The rest of the night was fairly calm and relaxed, although I was still concerned that Clark would be prowling the neighborhood after dark and might even try to break into the house. I didn't want to mention my concerns to my parents, though, since they were already worried enough, but I definitely wouldn't put it past Clark to do something like that. I'm not sure what his exact problem was, but the guy had some severe mental issues. He had been able to hide those problems from me for a while and could appear normal to everyone else, but when his problems eventually surfaced, he was a very different person and extremely scary.

That night after I went to bed, I slept with one eye open and only dozed off occasionally because I was worried Clark would show up and break into the house. I'm not sure if the earlier incident with the security system was so he could get inside and search the place or if it was just meant to show me that my parents and I weren't safe no matter how well we thought we were protected. Whatever his reason for doing it, it worked to his advantage and I was even more scared than before.

My manager called early the next morning and told me that Clark's boss had said Clark was at work. After hearing this news, I breathed a sigh of relief, thanked my boss and then my father and I went to pick up the truck. When we got to the apartment, the place was a total mess. Furniture was tipped over, objects were smashed and the place was completely trashed. When I went to my bedroom, my dresser drawers had all been emptied and my clothes were scattered all over the place.

When I'd first moved in with Clark, I insisted on having separate bedrooms in case things didn't work out. He was very resistant to the idea at first, but when I explained we could still sleep together whenever we both agreed, he began to lighten up a bit. In fact, it became sort of a game after that and we would ask each other, "Are we going to do it at your place or mine?"

When I started picking up my clothes so I could place them in a box, I noticed that many of the items had been cut with some sort of a blade, probably a knife. I immediately began checking every garment carefully and tossed the damaged clothing into a garbage bag, while putting the good items in the box. I guess Clark must have got his frustration out on my casual clothes and underwear, because my suits and other good clothes appeared untouched when I checked them out as they hung in the closet. I quickly grabbed all of those items and packed them up, as my dad and I began carrying my furniture and other belongings down to the truck.

Since I was afraid Clark might try to come home for lunch, just to see if I was there or had been there, I urged my father to move a little faster. I certainly didn't want to be at the apartment if Clark decided to come back, so we increased our pace. As soon as I was sure that I had everything, I closed up the truck and drove directly over to the police station because I wanted them to have a record of this incident too. Even though I had the clothing Clark had cut up as evidence, my father came inside with me to support my claims and, hopefully, to get the cops to take me more seriously this time. After we both finished making our statements, since we had each witnessed what Clark had done, we went outside, got in the truck and headed home.

After we finished storing the furniture in the garage and had moved the boxes with my clothing and personal items up to my bedroom, we returned the truck. I felt good that we'd been able to accomplish all of this without running into Clark and managed to avoid a potentially ugly confrontation.

We were just getting ready to sit down to dinner when my cell phone rang. I noticed the call was from Clark, so I didn't answer it. That didn't discourage him, though, because he called back a few seconds later. I didn't answer that call either, so he called back a third time. Once I realized he wasn't going to give up, I grabbed my phone and walked out of the room to speak with him in private.

"Didn't you get served with the restraining order?" I barked into the phone without saying hello first. "You're not supposed to contact me or come near me or my family again."

"Do you think a stupid piece of paper is going to stop me from doing what I told you would happen if you left?" he snarled back. "I warned you, but you still snuck in here while I wasn't home and grabbed all your shit."

"Only the things you hadn't sliced up!" I shot back, totally pissed.

"You're lucky you got it when you did, because I was going to destroy the rest of it tonight," he growled at me. "I was even planning on busting up your bedroom furniture too, but now I'll just have to come there to do it."

This was a definite threat, and I knew I had to do something about it. I wasn't sure what my options were, so I decided to offer up a bluff, hoping that would make him think twice before he tried anything.

"If you come near me, my parents or this house, then I'll have you arrested and thrown into prison," I threatened. "Hopefully they'll keep you there for a very long time."

"Yeah, right," he sneered. "They don't do that for breaking a restraining order, but I warned you. If I can't have you, then no one can. No one is going to want a corpse."

"Go to hell, Clark!" I screamed before I hung up on him.

I immediately started to dial after I'd ended that call, but it was only so I could notify the police about what had just happened. I told the officer who answered the phone that Clark had just called me, which was in direct violation of the restraining order, but I also told them that Clark had also threatened me and repeated, word-for-word, what Clark had said. The officer I spoke to said he'd send someone over to Clark's apartment to confront him about this and warn him about any future contact, so I thanked him.

Things were pretty quiet after that, at least until my parents and I went to bed. We had just turned off the lights and settled in for the night when I heard someone begin pounding on the front door. Since my room was located at the front of the house, but on the second floor, I quietly opened the window in my room and peered out to see who was doing this. I thought it might be the police trying to tell me what had happened when they went to confront Clark, but it wasn't them. It was Clark who was banging on the door.

I quickly pulled my head back inside before he spotted me, since no lights were on, and grabbed my phone. I immediately dialed 9-1-1 and reported what was going on. The operator said he'd send a squad car over to check it out, so I moved back to the window, stuck my head out it again and yelled at Clark.

"Get the fuck out of here," I shouted, causing him to look up. "I told you not to come around here, so now you're going to pay the consequences."

"And so will you!" he screamed back, as he raised his right arm.

That's when I realized he was holding a gun in his hand and lifting it in my direction. I immediately ducked back inside and hit the floor, just as the first shot shattered my bedroom window. I crawled out of the room and made my way over to my parents' bedroom to let them know what was going on. Since I knew my dad kept a shotgun in his closet, I told him to go get it.

"And make sure it's loaded," I urged, definitely terrified. "We may have to defend ourselves from this psycho if the police don't get here soon." I knew Clark was crazy, but this just proved he was totally whacko.

I heard several more shots while we'd been talking, but then we heard the front door being kicked in. and the security alarm went off. Clark was obviously trying to get into the house, and it didn't look as if the police were going to get here before something happened. Maybe that's why he had tried to disable the alarm system earlier.

"Point the shotgun at the bedroom door and be ready to pull the trigger if you see Clark enter," I instructed him. "It's going to be him or us, because he's completely nuts!"

My father got ready just in case, but then we heard the sound of sirens outside. We weren't about to leave the bedroom just yet, though and waited to see what was going to happen next. I thought I heard someone on the stairs, but because of the alarm I wasn't sure if the person was running up or down them at the time. Then, we heard some muffled shouting outside since we were still in the locked bedroom, but I was able to understand what was being said.

"Stop, drop the weapon and place your hands behind your head," I heard someone shout, obviously one of the cops. I didn't know if Clark was complying or not, but then we all heard a volley of gunshots. I held my breath and wondered if Clark was shooting at the police or if they were firing at him. Before long, I thought I heard someone on the stairs again, but then the person began to shout over the alarm.

"Mr. Wharley, this is Officer MacPartland responding to your 9-1-1 call," the voice stated. Slowly and cautiously we opened the bedroom door and looked out, but my father didn't lower the shotgun until we saw the man in uniform.

"Thank god, you arrived," my dad stated. "I was afraid I was going to have to shoot him. I hope this will finally take care of my son's problem with that guy, once and for all." My father then went to turn off the alarm.

"It definitely will, because he'll be going to prison for a very long time--that's if he survives his wounds," Officer MacPartland informed us.

"Why? What happened?" I wanted to know.

"The perp was in the house when we pulled up, but then he tried to flee the scene when he saw us arrive," the officer stated. "We told him to stop, drop his weapon and place his hands behind his head, but he started shooting at us instead. We returned fire and he was hit multiple times, but he was still alive when I left him with my partner so I could come see if you were all right. I'm not sure if he's going to make it, but if he does he'll be facing numerous charges, including attempted murder."

"Yeah, he took a few shots at me too," I informed the officer .

"I'd like you to show me where that happened, for my report," Officer MacPartland stated, so I began leading him to my old bedroom. "We were on our way here, lights only, when some of your neighbors called and reported gunshots. That's when we turned on the sirens too."

After checking out my bedroom and taking notes, Officer MacPartland thanked us and wished us a good night, what there was left of it. I certainly couldn't sleep in my room, so I shut the door and planned on sleeping in the guest room instead. Before I did that, however, my dad and I went downstairs to check out the front door and see how much damage had been done there. The casing was splintered, although not severely, so we were able to pound the pieces back into place well enough so we could shut the door, flip the deadbolt and fasten the chain latch. Since we weren't sure if those things would hold up, we also braced a chair under the doorknob before Dad reset the alarm. At least tonight, I was going to be able to sleep soundly because I knew there was no way Clark would be showing up again.

My dad and I ended up taking another day off, after we took time to explain to our bosses about what had happened the night before. Both were understanding, especially after we promised that we'd be in the last two days of the week. Once that had been taken care of, my dad got hold of the handy man he frequently used for minor repairs so he could fix the door and patch whatever bullet holes were in the walls and ceiling. Dad also called the local glass shop and asked them to send someone over to replace the window in my bedroom, and they all showed up to take care of the problems before the day was over.

Clark survived his wounds, but I think he would have preferred that he hadn't. After he was charged and brought to trial, he was found guilty of the attempted murder of several police officers, another count of attempted murder for shooting at me, along with various gun violations and other lesser infractions. In the end, he was sentenced to serve life in prison without the possibility of parole, so my tormentor was effectively eliminated and this nightmare was finally over.

The End.