The police literally beat the crap out of me last week. They attacked me when I was on my way home after a night out with my friends. I wasn’t particularly drunk, but I have empty spaces in my memory from that night due to the inflicted head injuries caused by the police’ brutal treatment of me, a tiny, middleaged woman trying to live my life, hopefully in peace and quiet without all the drama and violence which seemes to never end throughout my whole existence.
The police harassment started the summer of 2000 so it’s been going on for more than 40% of my life. They celebrated our 21th anniversary as victim and predator the best way they could think of: beating me half to death in ways that easily could’ve killed me by “accident”. Incidents like cardiac arrest or suffocation slips through my mind and I can’t help but think of those three men the police shot and killed because they were worried about their mental health. Or that poor boy many years ago which was held down by a police officer off duty the same way I was last tuesday and who died of asphyxiation.
I can only be thankful that the one investigator from The Norwegian Bureau for the Investigation of Police Affairs whom I really don’t want to investigate this matter is also unfit to investigate this after I reported him to the police last summer. Yes, that’s right! This is so much more than just one mistake. This is systematical persecution of an innocent and peaceful sivilian that’s been going on for more than two decades. They’ve dehumanized me in any matter possible breaking so many rules it’s sickening, but still I haven’t lost faith in our democratic legal system because I do have the strength to keep on fighting. I can only feel sympathy with those who breaks under the misuse of power and never recover.
I have never been afraid of being alone, but I am now. Or I have been these last few days. I’ve never felt so unsafe as I do now and these perpetrators can even follow my SIM card wherever I go. They can always know my location and if I’m alone or with somebody else and my cellphone is acting strange after they attacked me. Different apps like Messenger and Facebook are not working proparly and the battery is emptied very fast. I can’t even be sure if they haven’t been in my home when I was in custody. At the same period of time I’ve been a victim of numerous serious crimes which the police must have been aware of, but have refused to let me report. They’re obligated to protect me, but instead anyone could do whatever they wanted to to me and my property without any consequenses while the police at their best were mocking me and now at their worst were senselessly beating me themselves.
“Somebody” really don’t want me to feel safe. “Somebody” really wants to harm me for life. “Somebody” is very busy trying to break my spirit. “Somebody” in the police are eager to please somebody else, somebody else but me whom they rather should’ve locked up a long time ago. And to be honest I believe that this is the end for “somebody” else but me, the crazy whistleblower and warrior of the order of the pencil and satire, penpal of many, enemy of few. I can only ask