I bought a fake gun because the police wouldn't protect me.
A man tried to kill me. He attacked me on a boat. I reported it. The police took the report. Then nothing. No arrest. No follow-up. No protection. The man who tried to kill me was still walking around.
So I bought something that looks scary but shoots rubber balls. Stupid? Yes. I know that now. I didn't know the real model looks almost the same. I just wanted to feel safe on my own boat because the people whose job it is to keep me safe weren't doing their job.
They sent a SWAT team.
Three men with real rifles aimed at my head. Two sides of the canal blocked off. A helicopter circling above. Dozens of police. For me. For a man with a rubber-ball gun on a boat.
One officer — I'll never forget his face — looked at me and said: "In the Netherlands, everyone burns. Even for honest mistakes."
In the police car, another one told me I'd get four to five years. He was almost laughing when I started crying. Almost. Not quite. Just enough to let me know he was enjoying it.
In the cell, there was no working TV. They gave me Evangelical books to read. Nobody asked what I believe. Nobody asked if I was okay. Nobody asked about the man who tried to kill me and why the police never arrested him.
I kept ringing the bell every hour asking where my lawyer was.
They remember me.
Court outcome: acquitted on threats and vulgar language. Conditional sentence for the fake gun. The man who attacked me? Never charged.