As I type this on my phone, I’m currently in bed, with my son, protecting him. You might be wondering from what. Before I answer that, I have to start from the beginning.

This started months ago. I am a single mother raising my son, whom I will not name for privacy reasons. His birthday was coming up, and being an only child, I always want his day to feel special. I like to host a bunch of family and friends. This year, I wanted to try something different. I’ve seen it in many movies and shows, and I thought it would be fun and memorable to try this year.

I wanted to hire a clown.

Some entertainment for the kids, I thought, would be great. Creating shaped-balloons, face painting, and fun tricks. I thought it would be a blast. So I told one of my friends and he recommended a website with many freelance performers—including clowns. It had a rating system with reviews and everything. So I went on, did some research and found some of the best clowns around.

I started messaging a few of them, but one in particular stood out. He was asking all the right questions: what games my son was into, his favorite colors and animals, who his best friend was, and much more. At first, I thought it was a bit much, but he told me he needed to know these things so he can prepare a special day curated for my little guy. I was very grateful and hired him immediately because that’s exactly what I wanted for my little boy. I sent him the deposit to lock him in and exchanged numbers, as he preferred texting instead of messaging through the app.

It was still a few weeks before the party but he texted me every day about my son. I thought it was a bit excessive how seriously he was taking it, but at the same time, I thought it would make my son’s birthday even better. I sent out the invites and announced the party, including the main event—the clown. But to my surprise, my son came home the same day from school crying and distressed. His best friend got the invite but told him he wouldn’t be going—he was terrified of clowns. I called his mom and she assured me that, in fact, her kid was very scared of clowns. I tried to come up with ways to make it work, but we couldn’t work something out.

My son really wanted his friend there, so I had to pivot. I canceled the clown and rented a bunch of bouncing castles instead. I apologized to the clown and sent him a bit more money, on top of the deposit, for the inconvenience. I thought he would be difficult since he spent so much time prepping already, but he acted fine.

In fact, he acted like I didn’t cancel at all.

The following day, he kept texting, asking questions about my son and telling me he was very excited to meet him. I kept reassuring him that the plans were canceled and his services were no longer needed. But he didn’t listen. He ignored everything I said and kept texting me about his plans to entertain and play with my son. Eventually, I was so fed up, I texted him a nasty message, essentially telling him he is not welcomed, to leave me alone, and that he will never see my son. Then, I blocked him. Luckily, I never gave him my address.

Feeling relieved after a few days of silence, it didn’t last long. I received a text message from an unknown number.

It was the clown and he was not happy.

He told me that I had been acting inconsiderately and that blocking him was rude. He then stated that he would be attending my son’s birthday party regardless of what I say, and that nothing would stop him. When I attempted to handle the situation myself, he threatened me directly, warning that I would be hurt if I interfered. His increasingly obsessive behavior frightened me, and I ultimately called the police. Working with an officer, I provided everything I had on this clown, but when we searched for his profile on the website, it had been deleted. I handed over all information I had, and the officer assured me they would take it from there.

I kept blocking the clowns phone number, but he would get a new one and keep harassing me. I decided to just ignore the messages and pretend like he didn’t exist. The day of my son’s birthday party, it would be an understatement if I said I was nervous. I kept a very close eye on who showed up and who was entering my property. At the end of the night, knowing the party was a success and that no strangers had joined us, I felt a sense of relief. The tension in my chest finally began to ease.

However, all that stress returned the next morning. When I checked my phone, I saw a bunch of messages from the unknown number. I decided to look through it, and it was disturbing. At first, he was pleading to let me know where the party was, then asking me for hints. Then there was a break in the messages and he said he could see my son with the king party hat, which he was wearing throughout the party.

Then, in the middle of the night, he texted me that it was a pleasure finally meeting my son.

My stomach dropped, and I immediately ran to my son’s room. I barged in and woke him — he looked at me, dazed and bewildered. Sitting beside his bed and trying to calm myself, I asked him normal morning questions, like how he had slept and such. Personally, I was building up the courage to ask my son if he saw an unknown man yesterday, and when I did, he shook his head—‘no.’ I was relieved. But then he told me he made a new fria photo of my son and I outside the house bringing some boxes in.

He knew where we were.

I don’t know how this man keeps finding us, but I became a mess. I called the cops and once again, they took some notes and said they would patrol. They said it was a good idea that I installed the camera and alarm system. If the alarms go off, they would recognize our address and understand the situation.

Even though the cops were doing what they can and my new system in place, I still wasn’t feeling great about the situation. When the cops left, I got notification on my phone—another message from this clown. I read it, and even though I shouldn’t have, I’m glad I did. He essentially gave me an ultimatum; either let them have their play date, or he will have to take my son away. He told me to answer immediately, and if I didn’t, he would take it as a ‘no.’

Obviously, I’m not letting that happen. I ignored it and a few hours later, he just sent me a clown emoji. That was earlier this evening. Now it’s almost midnight and my son and I are in my bed. My son has no idea what’s happening, so he’s fast asleep. I, on the other hand, am extremely alert and waiting. I know he’s coming tonight.

And as I’m writing this, I think he’s already in the house… My alarms aren’t going off, and my cameras aren’t notifying me of any activity. But, I have a really bad feeling about this. It’s probably because I just heard my son’s bedroom door open… we were never being followed, and whenever I sensed we might be, I would deliberately take detours and go elsewhere until I felt confident we were completely safe.

When we got to our new house, I set up video cameras and an alarm system, I wasn’t taking any chances.

Not even a week in the new home, I got a text message from an unknown number; it was him. He asked me if I missed him, he told me he knows my son misses him and can’t wait for their play date. In a state of rage, I provoked him—I was certain he had no idea where we were. At the time, I didn’t think about how he got my new number, but there was no way he knew where we lived. I took many precautions to avoid being followed. I haven’t even registered my new address. But then, he sent me a photo, end last night. I asked him who, with a lump caught in my throat. He said a clown visited him last night for a last special surprise. The clown told my son that I set the whole thing up to give him a last surprise.

I tried to contain my anxiety and asked my son what he meant. He told me the clown woke him up, and sat on the edge of the bed, telling my son all sorts of things. My son trusted him because the clown knew a lot about him. My son told me the clown talked so much about plans for hanging out again, and how they would have the most special day together. Then my son said he fell asleep and then was woken up by me.

I got up and ran around the house, checking all the doors and making sure no one was in the house. All doors were locked and there was only the two of us. Then, I noticed—my son’s window was unlocked and slightly open. I called the cops immediately.

The officers came, took some notes, did a look around the house, and said they would patrol the neighborhood. However, there was nothing the cops could do. We didn’t have information on this guy, and my son’s description wasn’t useful since it was dark, he was sitting down, and he had clown make up on. The cops told us to hang tight, to call if anything else came up, and to never message the clown.

The next few days were sleepless and torturous. This man was still texting me, but for my sanity, I ignored them. But every now and then I would find myself glancing at them, and each time they proved to be deeply disturbing. He kept messaging about the games he would play with my son, how they would talk about all the adventures they would go on, what kind of movies they would watch, and so on. He also knows the cops are on high alert and said he didn’t mind waiting; a play date with my son is worth the wait.

This man was clearly deranged.

After I hit a tipping point, with nothing new from the police, not being able to sleep, and feeling like sitting duck, I decided to take action. I rented an apartment on the other side of town and planned to sell my house. I changed my phone and phone number and we moved in the apartment temporarily.

By that point, months had gone by without contact from him. We had also sold our home and bought a new one. Now being a paranoid mother, I was always careful to ensure