On my last update, Psycho had just been arrested after coming to my house with a fake gun and making the police chase him from pillar to post.
They released him that night into his POS father's care after his father promised to take him to the hospital off-base for a full psychiatric evaluation. The father, being the trustworthy shit-heel that he is, did not do this.
So the next day, Psycho showed up at Billy's school, told the secretary that he was waiting for his sister, and sat in the hallway to wait for Billy. Luckily, Billy's teacher knew that we had been having some problems with Psycho so she sent Billy to the office to wait for me there. The problem was, I was under the impression that Billy's first day of Reading club was that day, so I was late coming to get him. Psycho sent a little boy over to beg Billy to come with Psycho and Billy's teacher told the little boy that that was not going to happen, Billy was going to stay right where he was until I got there, so Psycho ran off.
I pulled in about 10 minutes later than I should have, and I could already feel myself beginning to lose it. I grabbed Billy and got in the car, and as I was pulling out of the school parking lot the police called me to let me know that Psycho was "missing" and we should be cautious and call the police if we saw him. When I pulled onto my street....there he was; walking away from my house. I called the police to let them know that he was at my house, but I hadn't even hung up the phone yet when a police car and Psycho's father arrived to get him. They immediately released him to his father.
And I completely broke down. After two months of dealing with this situation - constant vigilance for my kids safety, sleeping like crap because I was worried about the kid coming in at night plus the nightmares that stress always gives me, and the feeling like it was never going to end - that no one cared about the fact that this boy was literally terrorizing us and they just kept releasing him back to the asshat who was more than happy to let him continue rather than actually put some effort into helping his own son; I had had all I could take. I sent my boys to their room and sat outside on my porch and cried.
My husband, who had also received the same warning call that I did, came home immediately. I updated him on everything that happened and how they had just released him back into his father's custody once again and we decided that it was possible that we needed to make some arrangements to keep the boys safe since nothing was being done to help. We decided that we were going to see what are options were as far as sending the boys to my mom's until we could get some resolution about our case. If we couldn't do that, then I was going to ask my brother to come up and help me keep an eye on everything.
I called my mom and let her know what we wanted to do to see if that was feasible on her end, and then I went back to the school to talk to the boys' teachers to see how we would have to arrange things if they left for a while. They were both awesome. They offered to help in whatever way they could, and if they think I'm probably an emotional basket case, they haven't shown any outward signs (though they'd be well within their rights, I kinda was an emotional basket case that day) That meeting was probably the most productive meeting I've had during this entire situation. The school's guidance counselor is amazing. She listened quietly while I told them everything that happened, got up and started making phone calls. She got me an appointment with the base commander for that afternoon, hooked me up with a civilian police liaison for the school, and worked with the principal to block Psycho from school grounds permanently or the county will press trespassing charges against him.
The meeting with the base commander was a lot more of the same run around I had been getting from the investigators: "It takes time to build a case", "Psycho's parents are really aren't lying to us about the measures they're taking to control him, it's just really difficult with him", "You're safe now, we got him back with his parents already", blah blah blah, etc, etc, etc.
Little did I know, my mother - who was extremely upset that things had progressed to the point that I was crying - was on the phone screaming at investigators and sending emails to the base commander and the White House. Her conversations with the investigators got her about as far as they had gotten me. She was blown off and condescended to like we were being irrational and over dramatic about the situation and there was nothing to worry about.
Her email to the base commander was pretty effective. He got it the next day, and immediately got on the case. By that afternoon, my husband and his Chief were called in for a meeting where Brandon found out that Psycho's father had indeed been lying...more so than we even knew. He had lied about taking Psycho to the hospital the night of the gun incident, he had lied about precautions he had supposedly been taking so Psycho couldn't get to Billy, and he had lied about what branch of the military his wife was in.....his wife (whom I still have never seen) was not even aware that Psycho had been in trouble. She found out about everything that had happened about 5 minutes before the base commander informed her that he was moving her family out of the neighborhood.
Her emails to the White House were also pretty effective. A White House liaison called her directly, got all the details of the case, and then promised to follow-up with the commander here....and he did.
So it took two weeks, but they finally moved them. They moved them 2 miles away about a block from the boys' school. *insert exasperated sigh here* For a week after their stuff was picked up and moved from their home, they came back every day to "clean"....and every day they came back right at the time that Billy came home from school. The following Monday after they were completely gone, Psycho was back at my door. He approached Billy outside at a place where he goes to ride his bike, and then tried to sneak into our backyard when Billy ran home. The police didn't even bother coming. They just called his father to come get him.
The base commander got involved again and gave them another last warning or he was going to move them completely off base.
Three weeks went by, and we really thought that maybe things had ended...until Sunday. Our doorbell rang, and Brandon opened it without checking to see who it was. And there stood Psycho. The police came, and so did his father. We did our well known dance routine all over again. And they released him to his father and left.
This time douche nugget stayed behind to talk to us. He wanted us to stop calling the police every time Psycho came to our house. We explained that that was what we had been told to do by the base commander and the cops, and that it was what we were going to continue to do because past experience had taught us that he would do nothing to stop Psycho from coming to our house regardless. He told us that we were doing nothing but causing unnecessary paperwork and keeping a spotlight on him and Psycho. (A well-needed spotlight, IMO) He told us that Psycho was seeing several different people to help him now and was doing so much better and he wasn't violent at all, he just couldn't believe that Psycho had ever or would ever hurt Billy. When I said that he had hurt Billy in the past and while I was sympathetic to his plight regarding Psycho's mental issues, I still had to protect my children. He became belligerent at this point and said that really it was Billy who mean and violent and Billy had threatened to kill his entire family and that Billy was always in trouble and no one liked him. When I told him that I didn't believe that Billy had ever been violent or threatening towards his family (I mean really. If you knew Billy at all, you'd know that was the biggest crock of shit ever. I'd sooner believe that I went and threatened his whole family, knowing full well that I had never been anywhere near his family, than I would believe that Billy ever had.) and that Billy had never been in trouble and has tons of friends, he said, "Well, you can see how easy it is for rumors like that to get started can't you?"
After a few minutes of me and the twat waffle standing in my front yard arguing with each other, my husband just told him that he needed to leave.
I wish I could say that that was the end of it. But let's be honest, this seems like it is going to be something that we are dealing with for a while. Until one of us leaves this area. And we still have a while to go.