"My dad and mom were going through a long divorce, and one night he came in wasted, and he kept yelling at her to come out there to look at something on his phone, and he stood there and kept yelling. The next day was the first day of school, so I was trying to sleep. So I ask him politely to go to the couch and sleep so I could get some sleep for the next morning. For some reason, that ticked him off. He came running into my room, flipping things and screaming at me, like he was going to hit me. All the while my mom had stepped out of her room and was filming him, and she said 'My attorney's going to love this' to him, and it set him off. Bad. So he comes over toward her, she backs up into her room, he says 'I might as well just kill you now' and grabs her, and jerks her into the floor. She starts screaming 'CALL 911 CALL 911' so I jump out of my bed, and run into her room, he heard my feet so he let go of her because he knew if I had seen him with his hands on her, it was all over for him. I tell her to call the cops and wait. She did.
Before the cops came, he was screaming at me, trying to scare me into not telling them anything, telling me he'll 'Take my car, throw my mom and me out on the streets. That I'll lose everything.' I looked him straight in the face and said 'I'm not scared of you. You're going to jail.' So when the cops got there, I told them everything he had done/said. And my mother showed them the video, where it got him throwing her and saying 'I might as well just kill you now.' He went to jail for domestic violence and assault charges. He was the owner of two corporations, but with me testifying and my mother's video, she broke the prenup, took everything he had, the corporations and all, and sold them. His life's work is gone. I haven't talked to him since, as there was a restraining order or no contact order placed between us. Oh, and I kept my car.
It wasn't easy, but seeing him threaten to kill my mom while slinging her on the floor made my decision to testify against him a lot easier. He deserved it."
"I was in foster care the final year of high school. This pudgy guy sat across from me in metalworking class and he always creeped me out.
I'm working on a project one day, and I look over to our table and see him reading one of my social worker's letters. He had seen it sticking out of my folder and just pulled it out and started reading it.
I was so angry that I ran over and started hitting him in the arm and shoulder with a jewelry hammer. It was only six or eight inches long, and the head was probably only six ounces, but still, it was a terrible thing to do.
My teacher broke it up and the only thing I got was after school detention (the school knew my personal situation and I had always been a good student, so they surprisingly didn't give me worse). That kid never came back to school and I heard that he had given other students trouble before, so he was moved to a school for delinquents. I found out at the end of the year that he had been assaulted and violated several times while at the school, and eventually had to be removed altogether and be homeschooled."
"One of my former middle school friends probably claims I ruined her life. I always hung out at M's house, since she lived four blocks away, and she liked when I helped her watch her four younger siblings. I would sleep over often because it was middle school and that's what you did. Every once in a while, her mother would come home and act weird/smelly funny (I was sheltered and didn't know what being wasted was). Whenever this would happen, M would tell me to go home since her mom was sick. This ritual of her mother coming home wasted occurred more frequently until I started to worry.
Around this time, M throws a huge birthday party and invites just about every seventh-grade girl to her house for a sleepover. M's mom was her usual wasted self and a lot of the girls decided to go home. I felt bad for M and stayed with her. While talking to her that night, I found out that her mother was having M drive her car home from the bars when she was too wasted so she wouldn't get any more DUIs. M was 13. I was scared for her, so I did (what I thought was) the right thing and told the guidance counselor at my school. M's living conditions were investigated, and it was determined that they were unfit. M and her four siblings were put into foster care. When I saw her three years after the incident, she gave me the 'you're dead to me' look. It broke my heart, and it still does. I hope her life is better and she'll eventually forgive me. Life is rough."
"My Sophomore year of college I started dating a freshman girl (let's call her 'Kathy'). She was cute and quirky. Cute little blonde. Anyway, we dated for awhile and things were fine. She hadn't lost her v card yet and I was respectful of that (I wasn't terribly experienced myself), but eventually we did end up fooling around. After a couple of months, she started acting strangely. She would call me at least 30 times a day (this was before cell phones) and leave long messages that didn't say anything. She would see me working on homework projects with other people and say I was ignoring her. She started telling my friends I was being a jerk and also was telling them to stay away from me.
The summer before I started dating Kathy, I worked at a summer stock theater company, and there was a lot of 'sharing' among the cast and crew. Very much a 'free-love' vibe. I was young and stupid. I slept with a girl who gave me an STD. It was curable and doesn't often present symptoms in males, so I had NO IDEA I had it. I should have gotten tested, but I was young and stupid. Never made that mistake again.
Nearly nine months later, Kathy starts to show symptoms. She goes to the doc. She comes back to me with the results. Naturally, she is furious. I don't blame her. I apologize profusely, I pay for all her medical treatments, and mine. I get tested for EVERYTHING. I do everything I can to apologize and fix the problem as best I can. It was at this point things went off the deep end. She refused intimacy pretty much universally after that, claiming she was 'punishing me.' That didn't sit well with me. She was going to my friends with lies about me more and more often. She would threaten me with various things, sometimes violent, sometimes not.
I tried to break up with her. It was like that episode of Seinfeld where George tries to break up with a woman and she just says 'no.' No matter what I said or did, she believed and told anyone who would listen that she was still my girlfriend. This went on for two months. I tried EVERYTHING, and nothing worked. So I decided that if she wouldn't let me break up with her, I'd just get her to break up with me. I started being a jerk on purpose. We'd go to the same parties, I'd leave with other women. I'd ignore her in public. I stopped returning her calls entirely. I was never physically or verbally abusive to her. I'm not proud of this, but I felt at the time it was my only recourse.
Summer came and went, and we get back to school. She STILL THINKS we are together. I told her in no uncertain terms that I had a new girlfriend.
THAT's when she started lighting my possessions on fire. Not anything big, just books I had loaned her. Her roommates told me she started having conversations with invisible people and throwing plates at them (her roommates) for minor things like forgetting to replace the toilet paper. She disappeared one day. We discovered she had left school to go back to her parents' place.
One year later, my buddy calls me, 'Hey man, just a warning: I saw Kathy on campus today. No idea what she's doing here.' I thought it was strange, but wasn't terribly concerned. I had a lunch meeting scheduled with one of my professors that day, and I called her to confirm. She seemed nervous and uncomfortable on the phone. Asking why I was calling, and specifically why I was calling at THAT EXACT MOMENT.
I came to find out that Kathy had just come to her office and claimed that, during our time together, I had beaten and violated her several times. She claimed her roommate had witnessed me assault her more than once. She claimed another professor had nearly caught me slamming her head into a wall on campus. My professor, following her legal obligations, had told her the only thing she could: If this really happened, you need to report him to the police.
Which is what Kathy did.
Suddenly, I'm the subject of an assault investigation on campus. As a talented, scholarship-holding acting major, I'm a visible guy on campus. So this investigation was a big deal. Thankfully I have a lawyer for a father. I called him and asked him for advice. He told me not to speak to the police until he found me a lawyer. Then he called a few friends and got me the best defense attorney in the county.
As the charges come in, it's clear she's making things up on the spot. She would tell a teacher a story, claiming a classmate witnessed it. Then she would tell the same classmate the same story but claim the TEACHER witnessed it.
We go to trial. She's there by herself, with some sort of victim's advocate probably provided to her by the court. She's wearing torn jeans and a ratty sweater. I'm there in my suit, with my lawyer. I have with me my roommate from the time Kathy and I dated, Kathy's roommate, and my current girlfriend. A trio of witnesses and a good lawyer. She's on the other side of the room all by herself. I honestly felt sorry for her.
The trial was a joke. I remember at one point, she took the stand and the judge said, 'You say he assaulted and beat you. Can you go into some detail about that?' 'Yes, he did.' 'Tell us about it.' 'Did I mean, do you want me to be specific?' 'Yes. This is court, after all. It's why you're here.' She had no response. The whole trial was like that. She was caught in a lie and in WAY over her head. I just didn't want to go to prison for something I didn't do.
She disappeared after that. Several years later, I ran into a young man at an audition who had the same last name as Kathy AND shared the first name of her younger brother. I had to ask, and yes, it was her brother. I told him 'I'm the guy that ruined your older sister's life in college.' He responded, 'Really? The way I heard it, my older sister is the girl that ruined your life in college.' Apparently, she doesn't speak to her family anymore and lives in some Buddhist retreat in Austrailia."
"I just resigned from my position at a nonprofit. An hour after I left, my supervisor was fired and escorted out.
He'd spent a year doing all sorts of low-grade harassment crap: my male coworkers weren't allowed to talk to me but only I got in trouble for it, wildly inappropriate 'jokes' about bending me over and screwing me were told to my male co-workers while I was standing there, constantly being accused of having office affairs with all/any of my male coworkers.
But that wasn't what made me narc on him.
I turned in my written notice to him, resigning for various reasons because I just didn't want to work there anymore. Fine. We go to the executive director of the nonprofit, who is female. My male boss says she is going to yell at me and kick me out that day, so he should go with me into her office. I don't give a crap, so, fine. He comes with me. She is wonderful and nice as I resign to her, and she's like, 'How long do we have you for?'
And I, concerned with being professional, said: 'Two weeks.'
My boss had full control over if they gave me those two weeks. He could have said, 'No, I want her gone in three days.' They gave him that choice. Instead, he told them that two weeks would be great.
He then told me three days.
He then told upper management that I was reneging my two-week offer and would only stay for three days. He started telling the whole office, 'She only gave three days notice. Upper management is upset!' and following it up with, 'What a jerk, am I right?'
Except that I'm not a moron, so I catch on to what he's doing in a day. I make up my mind to bury him.
His supervisor wants to throw me a party, but she says, 'You only gave us three days! I can't get anything ready!'
And I'm like, say what. I gave you two weeks.
And we set a private meeting for my last day.
I get calm, controlled, and poised when I'm angry, so I write out my talking points and make outlines and carefully consider my word choices and make sure to dress extra professional my last day.
I told her all the illegal stunts he was doing in the department, the stuff he was forging. I told her about how he lied to the staff constantly about where decisions came down from. I told her about how he kept everyone scared and isolated and we would've blackballed for going above his head. I told her the crappy thing he was doing about my two weeks.
And then, when I knew that was more than enough to get him fired, I started to talk about the harassment.
We go to the executive director. I go through everything again. Male coworkers get called down to be questioned if the things I say are true. THEY ARE ALL TRUE and EVERYONE backs me up.
I got two weeks of pay, another month of health benefits, and a lot of satisfaction.
He got terminated on the spot.
Was it life ruining? He just bought a big house and now has a three-year gap in his résumé and this nonprofit is well connected in town. So maybe."
"I was young, my wife was home pregnant with our first child, and I was out late one evening getting her a drink from Sonic. I should say at the time, I was working a full-time job and going to school at night, so I was tired. It was after 10 p.m., and I was waiting for traffic in a median to pull into the fast food place. All clear, so I start to go and all of a sudden there was a loud bang and I black out for a second. It turned out that a guy on a motorcycle whipped out of the gas station next to Sonic and I hit him on my way through. I blacked out because the airbag went off and knocked me out for a second. When I came to, I was rolling forward through the oncoming lane, and I saw sparks flying when I looked out my driver's side window as the motorcycle skidded down the road. I put it in park and got out still dazed and fell over. Bunch of people at Sonic ran over to me and the guy on the motorcycle. Thing is, he had his kid on the back. About 15 or 16 years old.
Cops got there and they called life flight. I never saw the guy's motorcycle lights on and when I saw it going down the road I didn't see lights on. I just didn't see him. I am pretty sure he didn't have them on, but because it happened so fast and I was already dead tired, I can't be 100% sure. I got the usual breathalyzer and what not which all came back negative. They both survived, but the kid was some big football star at the high school and probably would have had some scholarship lined but because of the accident he had to get some major surgeries and steel rods put in his legs. Nothing ended up happening legally as it was ruled an accident and there was no followup. I'll never forget the look that kid's grandpa was giving me at the scene of the accident when both his son and grandson were being picked up by life flight and weren't sure if they were going to make it."
"I got my lawyer disbarred. Well, suspended from the bar indefinitely is more precise.
I paid him in advance for my divorce. He did not show up when it was time to set up child support. He got me straight and screwed over that deal; I got the screwing of a lifetime. Not showing up is bad news.
I wrote the bar association an email at midnight, and they called me at 9 a.m. at work the same day. He had his license yanked within two days. He got divorced (again) from his new wife, lost his house, got arrested for some sort of divorce-related crap, and was in jail when his hearing came up for review by the supreme court. Not sure what he's doing now. It made the local paper (Des Moines, Iowa Register). He was driving a nice SUV when I hired him. Some kind of new Land Rover. Now it's a rusty 1998 dodge minivan.
Did I ruin his life? Nah, he ruined his own. He had to repay the court the money he stole from me (I got some back from the bar association victim recovery fund), and he can reapply in five years. After he applies, if accepted to the bar, he has to work under a lawyer in good standing for another two years. Also, he has to do his continuing education the entire time."
"I punched a kid in the chest who had serious heart issues. I didn't know that punching him with force to his chest would cause him to pass out and have problems breathing.
He went to the hospital and for some reason left me out as the reason that he was sent there. He moved one day after, and I feel like the biggest jerk to be the sole reason this guy moved away."
"A few years ago, I was living in a big apartment complex. I had just gotten home with my girlfriend from a long day of traveling, and we lived on the third floor. Taking the stairs up, we passed by the apartment directly below ours. Their doors were open, and there probably were about 30 people in there drinking, a lot of them milling around outside and smoking. It was about 11:30 p.m.; not too late, and I wasn't going to throw a fit even though these people were basically standing in our way. The guy who lived in the apartment was your typical dudebro who had more money than brains, and the money belonged to his parents.
Well, they start playing loud music shortly after we get into the bedroom, and boy, did it travel. Not only that, but they were shouting back and forth (doing that stupid 'WHOOO!' thing people who can't handle their drink do when they've had too much), and by around 2 a.m., I'd had enough. I never bothered telling them to keep it down. I just called the cops immediately.
Now, this isn't a college town where this sort of thing happened on a regular basis. Sure, there's a college there, but it's not a big enough college that students even make up the majority of apartment complexes like ours. Most of the people that lived in our complex, including my roommate, were military, and they wanted some sleep.
Long story short, maybe 20 minutes after I called the police, there were five cop cars outside, lights on, and everybody at the party was getting busted for underage drinking. I never saw the guy that lived in that apartment after that. Not only did he go to jail, but he also got evicted. I don't know what happened to him, but I'm pretty sure that ruined his life.
I don't feel that bad about it, but I do wonder if I should have gone down and asked them to keep it down."
"This guy was on his own path of self-destruction, so I can't say I was responsible. However, my actions were a catalyst.
So, to start things off, I should say that I am a straight male and the incidents occurred during freshman year of college at a top-20 private university. I had met the guy, who I'll just call Ben, during my first week there. He lived down the hall from me. He seemed normal enough as I had the naive assumption that because the university was so hard to get into that all of the kids there were of sound mind.
However, things got strange with this kid rather quickly. First of all, I noticed his large assortment of prescription medicines. I didn't want to pry as to what ailment he had, but his eyelids were always half-shut. He always had a mildly absent expression and chuckled a lot. He was obsessed with working out and fitness, and would often be seen doing jumping jacks outside of the dorm in the wee hours of the morning.
Unfortunately, this kid became obsessed with me. It was scary. Our dorm was community-based and my roommates would often leave the door open. Often, I would come home from class to find Ben sleeping in my bed. He would do things like find me in the library where I was studying and demand a lot of my time. At first, I was a bit annoyed by this, but I tried to be friendly.
Things really got weird though once I started seeing a girl. Ben, supposedly, had a long-distance girlfriend at home. I thought he was straight, but he often hung out with other gay students in my dorm. I didn't make much of it, as they were nice guys with other straight male friends. However, Ben would become enraged that I spent time with my girlfriend. If I'd go out with her he'd write me long, profanity-laced emails telling me how big of a piece of crap I am. I started considering letting my RA know about this but didn't want to cause a fuss. The behavior, however, just became weirder.
I'd constantly tell him not to go into my room when I wasn't there, but he'd always go in and tamper with my stuff. I'd continually find him asleep in my bed after class. The week when I finally reported him, he had slipped an Ambien into my soda and started peering in on me in the bathroom as I was using it. The final straw was when he walked in on me as I was showering and tried to touch my junk. I had to punch him in the chest to get him to back off. As a male, I felt odd about doing it, but I finally reported him to my RA.
I didn't exactly know what would happen as a result of this, but the university had a zero-tolerance policy on harassment. He was forced to move to another dorm as a result. I thought that the problem would just resolve itself and that the both of us could move on with our lives.
But, the situation just got weirder. Not even a week after moving out, he was found standing out of the ledge of his window threatening suicide. He didn't jump, thank goodness, but his parents were informed. They withdrew him from the university. I never saw him again as he never came back to the university, at least not in the four years I was there. To be honest, I didn't feel bad for him. I was glad that he went home because he creeped me out, and it sounded like he had mental issues he needed to get worked out first."
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