My husband is the reason I carry a self-defense knife.

I was a little kid, hanging around the same age as your narrator, when this happened. Only just turned 12, so I could not yet stay home alone (or I would have been, I had been begging!). I remember it was during the summer of 1991, and the Gulf War was full force on the TV. Our babysitter, an older woman from down the street named Judy, was looking after me. My parents were both working the same schedule and 12 seemed too young to be home alone. By the end of the summer I was going to be staying home alone, and it was mostly a test in a way.<br><br>The night was like any other night we spent at my house. Judy would sometimes have her son, Chris, come over and hang out. I remember that he was always very quiet and liked to draw or listen to music. He was a few years older than me, almost an adult, but not quite. I don't know his exact age, but his quiet observant nature stuck out in a crowd. I frankly was a bit intimidated by him, he was so different from the kids my age.<br><br>Anyway, since Judy was there that night, Chris came over pretty often and ended up hanging out. It was still pretty warm outside, as it was only August, so we had the windows open. The front door had a screen door, and that was it, with a little latch you could shut. We were all just kind of growing into the new house, and the neighbors had been nothing but friendly (or so I thought).<br><br>So, as you can imagine with the windows open and everything, it was not hard to hear what was going on outside and in. That night, Judy had fallen asleep in her bedroom. She had been drinking a bit, and Chris was in the living room with me. I was on the computer, which was in the living room, and he was reading on the couch. I remember looking over and noticing that at some point Chris had left, but I didn't think much of it. I assumed he went to help his mom with something.<br><br>Around 3 am, I woke up to someone trying to open the screen door. It was open, but for some reason whoever it was assumed it was shut. I know now that it was probably drunk logic, but it took me a little while to register it. I was startled and confused and it took me a while to realize what was happening. I was just frozen in place. They kept trying to open the door. By the 4th or 5th time I knew something was wrong, and I began shaking. They were trying to open the front door, and since it wasn't latched, they were going to succeed.<br><br>I must have made a noise, I don't know. I know that Judy and Chris quickly came out of the back room and begun rushing around like wild. Judy hit the lights and the TV and turned on everything, trying to make it appear as though we were all awake and rushing around. I remember that she turned on the back patio lights too. I was in the living room, hiding behind the blinds (I was in the windowsill, peeking out as they had opened the screen door and were seeing what they could see). I heard them stop, then turn and run away. I never got a glimpse of their face.<br><br>Judy and Chris called the police and they took a statement from me as well. When I explained that they kept trying to open a door that was already open, they looked at each other and both agreed that it sounded just like a man they had been looking for in the area. He was from a couple of towns over, and was known to just randomly enter houses. They found a few bodies already, and believed him to be connected to several disappearances. They were looking for his accomplices, as there seemed to be two men involved each time.<br><br>Long story short, Chris had been driving home that night and saw two men trying to break into our house. He had parked down the road a bit and sprinted towards them, yelling as loud as he could. They both took off right away, turning only once to look at him. Chris said that he could see one face, and that was enough to identify the man they believed to be one of the two. He had already been picked up, and was talking. They were able to find the second man, and both were sentenced to life in prison.<br><br>This was the first time we had ever lived in a house that was on the ground floor. All of our apartments had been "upstairs", with no outside access to our windows. I carried this feeling with me from that day forward. I was afraid to be alone in the house (or anywhere). I insisted on locks for the windows, and plugged in a motion-activated outdoor light in the back. My parents reassured me that we had a safe neighborhood, and nothing would happen, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it could happen again. It still could. I never want to be in that position again.<br><br>Fast forward to the day I met my (now) husband. I was younger than him by about 2 years, and he was already carrying a self defense knife in his front pocket. By this time I was in college, but still living at my parents'. We were hanging out in my bedroom, still just in the "getting to know each other" phase. I saw the knife in his pocket and asked, "What is that?" He said, "My self defense knife." I laughed and said, "Why on EARTH would you need that?" He said, "You never know when it could save your life. I always have it on me." I thought he was crazy.<br><br>I didn't know that this would be the man I would marry, one day. By my senior year, he was with me almost every day. I plugged in a motion-activated outdoor light at our apartment, and locked all the windows. I double-checked the door after I locked it, every night, before I went to bed. He would laugh at me and tease me about being paranoid, but I could see just a hint of seriousness in his expression. One day, he pulled out the knife and showed me how to use it. He said it's not necessarily meant to be used as a weapon, but more of a deterrent. It was small, with a chain attached to the handle. You could flail it around and hit someone with it if needed, and they would be in pain.<br><br>I liked that he was so serious about my safety, and made sure I felt safe. I carried a small pepper spray around, but never really thought I could use it. Now, with a knife, I felt like I owed it to myself to learn how to use it. He convinced me.<br><br>I'm not sure when I carried this knife for the first time. I believe I still had my pepper spray, and it was probably in my purse. One day, I had a late class that got out just before midnight, and I had to walk across campus. It was right next to a lake, and the way I took it was a little isolated. I had the pepper spray in one hand and my phone in the other, as my boyfriend had instructed. I was out of breath and walking at a really quick pace.<br><br>I plugged in my headphones on one side and listened to my music, but kept the other ear open so I could hear if someone was approaching. I was turning a corner where I was about halfway to my car, when I heard my boyfriend's voice. I looked up, and there he was. He had a backpack on, and my knife in his hand, looking right at me with the chain hanging down. I froze.<br><br>He came up to me and hugged me. He asked if I had ever noticed that I was being followed. I said no, I was listening to music and had headphones on. He said, "Good." He told me that two men had followed me for almost the entire walk from the building, stopping just out of sight. He had noticed them as he was driving and picked up on their strange behavior. He said he had followed them, on foot, across the entire campus and to where I was. He said they were heading for me, right as I rounded the corner. I probably would have never noticed them.<br><br>If he had not been there, I'm not sure what would have happened. I have no way of knowing, but I like to keep an open mind. I like to think that maybe they would have just followed me and left me alone, but I doubt it. I have carried a knife ever since. I have never had to use it, thankfully, but it gives me so much comfort and confidence. I have a small knife on my keychain now, but I still carry the same one I used to. It still has the chain attached, and I still know how to use it.<br><br>Chris, this is for you. This is also for my amazing husband. I am so glad that you both were there for me, because I never would have been able to protect myself.