It was 1991 and my awkward, poorly dressed self was starting high school. Everyone is nervous when walk into that pressure cooker of academic and peer assessment. Middle school had been difficult and optimism was my best friend that day. Literally because I had no other friends. Eventually I found my locker and clumsily attempted to put away my belongings and prepare for class.
Damien had the locker next to mine. His toadies circled him, laughing and making fun. Someone asked how he was going to be able to stand having a locker next to mine for the next four years. Lockers were assigned alphabetically and assignments were considered non-negotiable. Damien laughed, looked me in the eye and and said, "Don't worry I am going to kill her."
My heart stopped. He wasn't even close to kidding. The rest of the day falls in big chunks of memory determined mostly by his proximity. It showed on my face when I got home. Finally my parents pried the events from me. I was truly scared. My Dad decided to go down to the school and get things worked out.
A few days went by mostly uneventful. There was the usual verbal attacks some inconsiderate behavior by the lockers but nothing too threatening. Dad went to the office but nothing seemed to change.
I was enjoying the journalism of a young Anderson Cooper on Channel One when I was summoned over the intercom to the office. Unaware of what was happening I went downstairs just in time to observe a familiar figure exit the building. I felt how his charisma affected everyone as I entered the office. The school secretary a was aglow from the charming conversation they had most likely shared. I was told to go to the principal's office, they were waiting for me.
I sat down in a room dominated by wood, a large desk and a small, unexpected man behind it. He was small with trim, steel gray hair and hard eyes. This was not the principal. Mr. Spring was the Athletic Director. He was well acquainted with Damien and his father, the award-winning wrestling coach. The following is my 22 year old memory of the conversation that took place in that room.
"Heather you told your parents that Damien threatened to kill you. That you believe him." Mr. Spring started.
"Yes."
Damien smirked and Mr. Spring gave him a hard look.
Eyes now void of expression he said to me, "Due to your sensitivity we are going to move Damien's locker. It seems you need to avoid Damien. This problem will not be discussed again and you will have no further problems with Damien. Is that understood?"
I hesitated.
"Is that understood?" tone threatening now.
"Yes."
"Go back to class. Heather don't cause anymore problems. It would be a shame if you became a problem for me."
Walking into the main office, I felt sick. The secretary asked if I was feeling alright. I nodded and left. I couldn't cause anymore trouble after all. I hurried back to homeroom disappointed that I had missed Anderson Cooper signing off.
I went back to my locker after first period to find Damien was already gone. Relief swept through me. The new girl wondered where the cute guy went. Things were looking brighter.
At home my parents asked what happened. Simply told them that Damien's locker was moved. There was discussion as to why mine wasn't moved. Why was he given a choice location? Did I think that less proximity would calm him a bit? On and on. I wanted to get back to my optimism.
It was the 23rd Psalm that soothed me. Walking through the valley of the shadow of death was a vague image then, that has crystallized as I reflect on this experience. Damien seemed intent on my death. There were two arson attempts on our home. Our cat was tortured and eventually murdered. Even as my ribs and hip bones jutted out of my clothes, insults relating obesity were shouted at me as I walked through the halls or down the street. It was an attempt to cause an eating disorder. On more than one occasion I was stalked through our small town while a group of wrestlers yelled insults and threats at me. Once he had his driver's license I had to choose routes home where if he ran me down there would at least be a suspicion that it was on purpose. Yes, police reports were filed. When we requested a copy of the report, it couldn't be found.
Through the next four years I spent a lot of time reading Scripture. It refreshed me and guided my behavior. My faith grew through the daily persecution. Trials aren't always death and illness. Bullies are not always your peers.
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