Emilie, the Survivor

To the Asshole who car jacked my friend Emilie at gun point Saturday night:

You better hope I never find you.

You better pray that the police get you first.

I will tie you down and find uses for a pair of pliers and sand paper that you could never even dream of. I would not only come after you, but you friends, too. I bet your friends know what you do. Someone had to be driving the other car. Someone who knows your name. Knows who you are, and where you live.

You cannot hide forever. And even if the police never catch you, remember: there is a God, and fate, and karma. If this is the type of person you are, then I can only imagine the type of people you surround yourself with. If they are as violent and unstable as you, then you are not long for this earth. You will die the way you live.


I am so filled with rage and desolation right now; I don’t know what to do. I know I was not the victim of this crime, but I am distraught. I am shaking. I am crying at my desk.

All I can ask is “why? Why her?”

I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to her. She made it out of the situation physically ok. Mentally, she was shaken. The more she talks about it, the better she feels. I guess that is why I am sharing this with you; I hope it makes me feel better.

I won’t for a while, though.

Fuck. This sucks.