My ex bought the house across the street from me right after our divorce was finalized and ever since, he has been constantly coming over for ridiculous reasons. He sits on his front porch smoking black and mild cigars as he watches me come and go from my home. He has the nerve to question my whereabouts and lifestyle like I’m a teenager sneaking out of my parent’s house. He thinks he still has control. When he sees any delivery men or handymen show up, he claims I am bringing strange men around our kids. Our kids are two and eight, I don’t need, or want another man in my life right now, but it’s not any of his business either way. He is constantly leaving harassing notes on my door, my car, and in my mailbox, and he sends mean and demanding texts to my phone on a daily basis, which he has done since we split up just over a year ago. One day he even cornered me against my garage after I’d just come home from a long day at work. My hands were full of groceries at the time, so I was unable to push him off of me. He demanded to see what I had spent HIS child support money on. He was certain I was traipsing all over town buying loads of designer clothing for myself while forcing our kids to wear worn-out thrift store hand-me-downs. He said he knew what I was doing because he’d never seen the outfit I was wearing, and my hair was different too. My sister had given me a French twist on my lunch break that day because she was practicing for her cosmetology license. He also didn’t realize the peach floral dress I had on was a Goodwill find. And the sandals on my feet were from the dollar store.  I tried not to show my fear whenever he would come around because I think he got off on it. The nighttime appearances at my window were the worst of all. The pure terror I felt on those nights when he’d stand under my window in the inky darkness, listening and watching like he was going to catch a man in my bedroom were almost worse than when he would strip search me when I came home from working late during our marriage. I never got any sleep on those nights. I was also alone in the house because those were the nights when the children were asleep over at his place for his weekend visitations.

It was a Saturday night and the clock on my dresser read ten minutes ‘till midnight. I laid there and listened knowing it wouldn’t be long before I heard the familiar crunching and grunting of my ex as he did his weekly stalking ritual. Sure enough, just like clockwork, the crackle and crunch of branches broke through the night’s silence as he made his way down the side of the house to his usual spot under my window. His heavy, raspy breathing caused chills to race up my spine and I glanced over at the pillow next to me. I admired the moonlight that reflected off of the metal barrel of the Glock .43 I had just purchased last week. The ominous presence of a gun in the room was like a foreboding of what was to come. The only thought I had in my head before grabbing the gun was, “I hope my kids will forgive me one day…“.