What happened to Charlie?
I made a promise five years ago never to forget, a pinkie promise like Charlie used to say. Many commended me for my act of courage by speaking up. However, I didn’t tell Charlie’s story to be commended, to me it’s not an act of bravery either but simply a warning. This cautionary tale is meant to do what its nature entails, caution future generations about the dangers lurking about. The dangers of the numeric era in which we live. For those who wish to know, I’m Charlie’s mom, always will be as long as I live. As his mom, it is my duty to tell his story, well at least the bits of pieces I’ve gathered over the course of the police investigation...
-``Mom...Mom...MOM...MOOOOMMMM!!!``
Here he goes, screeching away like usual. Those were the sounds coming from the back seat of our brand new mini-van or The Family Friendly Giant as I’ve so affectionately named it. No one can imagine such a god-awful sound coming from this tiny creature. Well, he wasn’t so tiny anymore. My little baby was turning ten, next week. Ten...it’s been ten years since this bundle of joy came into my life. God, I make myself sick...bundle of joy...really?!? Seven years ago, I wouldn’t be caught dead saying bundle of joy. Don’t get me wrong while I’m grateful for Charlie, his life, his impact on my life, I was quite different before he was born. I was this fearless, independent, captain of the industry (well, at least becoming.) However, regretful is far from the term I would use to describe Charlie’s birth, it was simply the beginning of an eventful and fulfilling chapter in my life.
-``What Charlie? `` I bark at him
-``Hi! ```He flashes me a smile. An angel sent smile, with his dimpled cheeks and lit-up eyes. It was impossible to keep a stern expression or even fake madness.
-``Charlie. How many times have I told you not to do that! `` I said in my most convincing irritated voice.
-``Sowwyyy`` He knew exactly what melted my heart and he saw right through my disciplinary act.
We pulled up to the driveway, our quaint little house welcoming us once again. On the curb was a parked car that I would recognize anywhere.
-``Julia``
-``Auntie Julia``
Julia was my sister, my rock, my confidante, the one I’ve trusted with the most precious things to me, that includes Charlie.
``Hi Charlie`` She said while giving a big bear hug to my only son. She was radiating confidence and youth.
``Hey sis! `` She looked up at me
``What brings you here, Jules? ``
``Well I have a gift for Charlie. `` She said holding an electronic store bag that seemed to contain a shiny white cardboard box the size of a small microwave.
“A microwave? What kind of a gift is that to give to an almost ten year old boy! “
I thought.
Nevertheless, she went on saying that though it was quite early before Charlie’s birthday she really wanted to give it to him right now. As we made our way into the house, Charlie was gripping Julia’s arm or more importantly the all so mysterious gift. We sat down and Julia burst:
-``Okay I just can’t wait! Charlie, this is for you.`` She said as she removed the box from the bag to reveal that the shiny white cardboard box had in fact the picture of a sleek black portable computer on it.
-``Julia, this is too much! `` I said trying to contain the urge to tell her she was out of her mind offering a laptop to a ten year old. That, not only, was it an irresponsible gift but it would also make me look bad in comparison. I hadn’t even bought Charlie’s birthday present and was seriously considering those brand-new action figures on sale at Toys R Us.
-``Don’t worry about it! `` She said knowing all too well the contents of my thoughts.
I excused myself on the false pretences that I was getting snacks in the kitchen. I breathed in and out, calming myself down and walk back in with cheese and crackers to discover Charlie in awe in front of his brand new toy. Julia noticing the obvious disappointment on my face let out a casual:
`` Are you okay sis? ``
I must have mumble something incoherent because all she did was nod in the way people do when they didn’t understand a thing you said but don’t genuinely care to ask you to repeat.
She finally left, leaving me with Charlie and his shiny new gift. My first instinct was to take the laptop away and hide it until my baby was mature enough to handle it. However, I knew that if I decided to take that route, it might turn into waterworks and screaming so I decided to just let him be. Before I could stop him, he ran upstairs. In a matter of minutes, he called my name so I could help him set the darn thing up. After finding an instruction manual that was not in Mandarin, German or Cantonese but in English, Charlie watched me set up the brand new computer. He sat there looking up at me with hopeful eyes and I couldn’t let him down. Within, a couple hours, the laptop was on his kiddie table complete with bright red top and yellow borders. The sleek black laptop felt out of place in this environment. It did not belong; however, Charlie was much to absorb to notice it. After putting up pop-up blockers, firewalls and all the necessary precautions that I thought were enough for Charlie’s protection and showing him the basic internet procedure, I let him be.
For the next week or so, Charlie left his room for nothing else than to go to school and eat. As a concerned parent, I did what seemed best, I took the computer away and told Charlie that he was forbidden from touching it until further notice. Evidently, that decision caused a screaming match turned temper tantrum. However, I stayed strong and asserted my decision. He was not winning this time. He ran off to his room, screaming at the top of his lung while I followed closely. When he slammed the door in my face, I decided it was best to let him be. A couple hours later, when I went to check on him, he had fallen asleep, a peaceful expression on his face. It looked like the storm had passed and that tomorrow he would wake up, forgiving and understanding...I had hoped.
Unfortunately, the next morning Charlie didn’t even dare look me in the eyes. My presence was only acknowledged by grunts and nods. He ate breakfast in silence despite my attempts at a conversation. He finally left for school grabbing his paper bag lunch and slamming the door on his way out. I let out a sigh; this was the biggest fight we’ve ever had. I spent the day cleaning which for whoever knows me is a sign of anguish and this had to be the first time the house was so orderly. Around 3’o’ clock, the time that Charlie usually gets home, I had arranged a plate of freshly baked cookies on the kitchen table. I was patiently waiting in the living room, wishing that, after spending a day outside the house, he would have forgotten all about our little disagreement.
My cell phone screen flashed 4:15 pm.
`` For god’s sake where was that child? `` Worry slowly taking over me. He was over an hour late. I took my coat, the car keys and locked the door behind me; I decided to go get him. I took the road he usually takes to come back home but he was nowhere to be seen. I went to the school where they announce to my already panic-stricken self that Charlie had left a long time ago. The secretary was kind enough to call the cops when I told her that Charlie hadn’t returned home. Incapable of waiting patiently for the police officers, I went over to Charlie’s friends. With each passing house and no sign of Charlie, desperation, anxiety and guilt seemed to consume my presently feeble mind and body. As I parked in front of the last house, I suddenly felt weak; a chill creeping up my back. I felt suffocated, trapped as if under a bell jar unable to escape. It seemed control was slowly slipping from my fingers. With the weight of a car on my chest and this sense of an impending doom over my head, I sat in my car. I was having a panic attack. After what seemed like an eternity, Mrs. Lias, the mother of Jimmy, a friend of Charlie, came out to find me paralysed with terror, I opened the car door and it what seem like a blurry moment in my memory, she let me in. At least that’s what I think happened because when I regained consciousness of my surrounding I was lying on her living room couch.
I was greeted with a warm cup of tea and a face creased with worry. Mrs. Lias sat opposite of me across the coffee table, as I tried to manage myself in a sitting position. She asked me to what was due this sudden panic attack I had in her driveway. Though I could have easily told her of Charlie disappearance if I had made an effort to collect myself, I decided not to and I simply let go in a hysterical frenzy of uncontrollable sobbing while trying to tell her my troubles. She sat there looking at me visibly concerned but hesitant as to how to handle this situation. I was obviously not blaming her for I myself would have no idea how to respond to a blubbering middle-age woman that I found stricken with fear in my driveway. As the sobs were reduce to whimpers and soft hiccups, Mrs. Lias had managed to gather enough information to conclude that I had indeed no idea where my son could possibly be and I was desperate to find him. She gave an empathetic smile and with this reluctance that bearer of bad news usually have, she told me that she hadn’t seen Charlie. Even with her comforting reassurance that we would as a matter a fact find Charlie and if she found out anything about him she would let me know, I was left even more shaken.
I left the house with the horrifying mental picture of Charlie’s face on a milk carton and headed for the school where one police car was stationed. I rushed inside to find two policemen interrogating the principal and secretary respectively. All head turned to me as I made my way to the front entrance, one of the policeman approached me.
-`` Mrs. McDermott, mother of Charlie McDermott? ``
-`` Yes, that’s me. ``
-`` We would like to ask you simple routine questions. ``
He followed with questions along the lines when was he last seen, what was he wearing, any family troubles, hypothetical reason he might want to run away and a recent picture of him which I carried in my wallet. Armed with all the information, he called back to the station asking for reinforcement to patrol the neighbourhood. This managed to reassure me enough for me to go back home and look for clues on Charlie’s laptop. He may have been talking to a stranger online. I knew that computer was a bad idea from the start. I told my hypothesis to the policeman who decided to accompany me home to take a look at the computer itself.
As he parked the police car in our driveway, I made a hasty entry and went up the stairs without bothering to ask politely the police officer to come in. I opened the laptop as it was loading I went to Charlie’s room for no reason but simply because I missed him. I sat on his bed and looked around. I could feel sorrow rising slowly to my throat when I notice a piece of paper sticking from underneath his pillow. I took it out and read:
`` Mommy, it’s unfair. You don’t love me so I am going to live with my best friend on the internet that has candy and will let me use a laptop all the time and he doesn’t even have a bedtime. Don’t worry I’ll come visit.``
``No`` I let out with a small whimper. I couldn’t even talk; I ran out of the room and shoved the piece of paper in front of the policeman’s eyes. He read it carefully taking it all in and looked back at the computer; he checked the internet history and the chat log entries for multiple sites. As he gathered information on this supposed internet best friend, he kept constant contact with the station who was trying to locate the predator. They came up with a dozen of possible suspects based on username and location. Finally, one clue narrowed the research to one man in particular. In one of the conversations, Charlie had asked the man where he lived so he would know where to go. The man responded that he didn’t live very far from the school and he even knew someone that went to the school. When Charlie asked who did he know from the school, the man blew his cover...he said Jimmy. According to files, Jimmy’s dad had been brought to court on harassment charges a couple years ago but all charges were dropped due to lack of evidence. However, his name had stayed in the police registry and according to the database and other hints left in the conversation, he was a prime suspect. Mr. Lias...I had been lying on his couch just an hour ago. Mrs. Lias didn’t seem suspicious, then again she could be a convincing liar or maybe was unaware of her husband undertaking. I couldn’t believe I had been in their house; I was blinded by fury and had only one thought; to go find Charlie. I rushed out of the house, the policeman ordering me to stay put. I pretended not to here the orders and started the car. The police officer jumped in his car and followed knowing all too well where I was heading. I pulled up on the Lias driveway once again, however this time I wasn’t shaking out of fear but anger. I rang the doorbell frantically, Mrs. Lias hurried to the door with a panic expression on her face.
-“ What in god’s name are you doing here?” She said innocently
-“ Where’s my son?”
-“ I told you we would keep a lookout for him...”
The police officer arrived and with a swift movement he pulled out his badge consequently giving him access to the house. I followed closely behind looking around for any sign of Charlie. Mrs. Lias seemed lost and confused begging us to explain to us what we were doing. I turned around infuriated:
-“What we’re doing here? I tell you what we’re doing here... I am here to find my son. You see I have plenty of evidence to prove that my son is here or at least your husband knows where he is.``
-`` How dare you accuse my husband of such a horrid thing.``
I grabbed her collar on her blouse out of rage. She begged to let her go but I wouldn’.t here a word. The police officer came to her rescue and I let go when he threaten to charge me for physical harassment. The next thing I knew I was being escorted out of the house, Mrs. Lias crying behind me. As we made our way to the door, Mr. Lias entered.
-`You! ` I uttered.
I jumped on him with the strength of a professional wrestler. I couldn’t contain myself. I couldn’t stand this man.
-`` What have you done to my son? `` I screamed while beating him with my fist.
He looked as surprise as his wife and as confuse by my accusations.
The police officers once again threaten to throw me in jail if this behaviour persisted. I immediately stopped. I let go of Mr. Lias, who had now a giant purple bruise on the side of his face. I smoothed my shirt with tears of rage running down my cheeks.
Mr. Lias looked as confuse as ever.
``What the hell is wrong with you? You’re crazy! ``
``What is wrong with me? Where is my son? ``
Mr. Lias did look genuinely confused by the whole situation. Should I underestimate his acting skills? Could he really be innocent? How? All the evidence...it didn’t make sense?
The police officer decided to finally step in and make light of the situation.
`` Sir, we have all the reason to believe you might know the whereabouts of Charlie McDermott, Mrs McDermott’s son. ``
We cracked him. The crazed eyes, the shifting looks to the side, the nervous tick in the form of pulling on the side of his shirt; he was lying and it was screamingly obvious. And, I, only 2 seconds ago was questioning his acting skills. He, evidently, had none.
He looked at me then at his wife, who we had all forgotten, watching the scene, horrified in a corner. Mr. Lias looked the police officer in the eyes and said:
`` I, in all honesty, have no idea where little Charlie could be. ``
He was lying. That little no good scummiest of scum liar. I couldn’t contain myself, rage boiling over like a pot of water on a hot plate. A voice coming from the officer’s radio resonated in the tense silence. Through the static I could make out only the words:`` We found him!``
Without a word, I turned around and left. The policeman told me to follow him to the police station.
As I pulled up, I imagined my Charlie running up to the door, leaping in my arms, where I would hold him and never let go. I braced myself as I made my way through the door, grimed police officers, phone ringing, anxious parents in the waiting room, but no sign of Charlie.
``Mrs. McDermott? ``
A gaunt officer towered over me.
`` Yes. ``
`` Please follow me to my office. ``
``Where’s my son? ``
He did not answer. Silvia’s Plath words suddenly rang true, I saw the days of the year stretching ahead like a series of bright, white boxes, and separating one box from another was sleep, like a black shade. Only for me, the long perspective of shades that set off one box from the next day had suddenly snapped up, and I could see day after day after day glaring ahead of me like a white, broad, infinitely desolate avenue.
Call it mother’s intuition but when he told me what had happen, I was not shocked, a sadness and pain that seemed to sear my whole essence left me numb. No tears, cries, anger, nothing. A blank expression showed on my face while my heart screamed.
My baby…dead. That first night I did not quite understand what the police officer was telling me. It didn’t make sense. However, as the days went by, the pieces of the puzzle slowly took their rightful place and it was bit clearer. Unfortunately, clear doesn’t always mean better. The details were as painful as the initial shock.
Charlie had indeed been abducted by an online predator but it wasn’t Mr. Lias. At the time, Charlie had made a couple of ``friends`` online. One of them did include Mr. Lias whose conversation we had found on the laptop. However, when Mr. Lias, had gone to lure Charlie, he was nowhere to be seen. That’s why he did look guilty when I accused him. Though, his original intentions were to harm my son, someone beat him to it.
That someone, a supposedly named, John Deviancy, had been watching the internet activity of multiple kids in the neighbourhood. He was a computer whiz that was a couple fries short of a Happy Meal. Consequently, he was now, not only facing life sentence for murder but also was the proud owner of a straitjacket. On M. Deviancy’s computer we found over a dozen files with a number. In each file, we found names, phone numbers, addresses, preferences in movies, music and books from dozen for each child. The information was gathered through electronic cookies on various websites. Face recognition technology scan pictures and associated name to faces, relationship statuses and friends in common made it possible to find schools, neighbourhood even ages. This amount of information in one folder was staggering. The most shocking of it all, was that you didn’t have to dig deep to find that kind of information. No. It was all out there for anyone to find it. As a matter a fact, what many don’t know is that when you visit a website they drop cookies that follow the user in order to make marketing profiles of their consumers. That information can be found easily and used unkindly.
I tell Charlie’s story to warn parents and kids alike. The numeric era has its perks and downfalls. Does privacy exist anymore? I do not know. Some applications of technology are more powerful than one may think. There’s no place to hide. One tip: Be safe.
Rejection
She had done everything right...hadn’t she? Her whole life had been dedicated to making it, to getting in. She had dreamed of that life since she was a little girl. However, now she had to watch it slowly slip away because of some dumb mistakes. Mistakes that could have been avoided, if only she knew them. God it makes her so mad to think about it. She didn’t deserve this.
She read the letter for the thousandth time: Dear Ms. Baker, We are sorry to inform you that we have rejected your application to New York University for the Fall Term 2011. Every time she read it, it made her want to cry. Wanting to inform herself, on the reason of her rejection, she called the admissions office in order to get an appointment with the dean of admissions. Unfortunately, she was quickly hang up on after a `` we’ll get back to you when he becomes available``. ``Becomes available`` it could, in 2 minutes or 2 months, Lauren thought, she couldn’t live with that. She decided that the best way to handle this was to head down to the admission office in New York City in person and inquire herself on the reasons for her baffling rejection. She didn’t handle failure well. Actually she couldn’t bear failure, and this was the biggest one of her life. Yes... she knew she was being a tad overdramatic, and she shouldn’t be since she got accepted to 3 other great schools. Whereas, most students would be satisfied with the schools where she did get accepted, she simply couldn’t understand it. Resolute, she came downstairs and told her parents of her future endeavour. Hesitant, they told her it may not be the best idea; she would come off as desperate and irrational. Definitely, not the kind of potential students, university are looking for. Great! Now even her parents didn’t think she was worthy enough for the school. Talk about parental support! Mad and determined as ever, Lauren stormed off and slammed the door à la angst-filled teenager. You’re not a teenager for long so might as well make the most of it. She threw herself on the bed and screamed into her pillow. Though she was perfectly conscious she might have passed as a brat to an outsider watching her act, she didn’t care because her actions were 100 % justifiable, so she thought.
After weeping, cursing at the world and passing out of exhaustion, she woke up in the middle of the night and decided she was going...no matter what. She took out the raggedy duffel bag from the back of the closet and filled it with extra clothes for the meeting. She broke open Mr. Piggy and poured out the 230.38 $ that it contained. She put the money in her hello kitty wallet and stuffed it in her oversized purse. She grabbed her hoodie, a pair of sneakers and slipped on her lucky jeans, while making sure the whole house was sound asleep. It turns out the house was filled with a concerto composed of snores and sleep-talking. Carefully, she came downstairs and wrote a quick note along the lines of `` I’m in New York, I’ll be back soon. Love Lauren``...short and sweet just like her application essay. An essay on which she had work so hard and even that hadn’t gotten her in. Something was seriously wrong with admissions. She slipped carefully out of the house and turn on the ignition of her car. As she was making her way to the train station, a pang of guilt hit her hard; she ignored it taking it only for some kind of nervousness. She paid the train ticket from New Haven to New York and hoped on the last train before 6 am the next day. The train was almost empty. She sat at the back to try to pass off as unnoticed as possible; within thirty minutes she dozed off into an agitated sleep. Ding Dong! She woke up startled by the bell announcing their arrival. She looked outside but couldn’t see much but the grimy inside of the train station. She stood up with a fiery determination and a confidence that radiated off her face. Within minutes, she came out of the suffocating terminal and out into the open; there it was New York. She came here 2 years ago, while taking a guided tour through NYU and she remembered some key landmarks. However, she decided to buy a map just in case. She found herself walking through Central Park and Time Square (which she later thought was very cliché of her). She stopped by a Starbucks and bought herself a chai latte where she felt important as she sat with all the movers and shakers of the industry (well at least she thought so). Around noon, she grabbed a hot dog from a street cart and decided to go find a restroom to change for her all important meeting. Changed, primped and refresh, she walked confidently to the Admissions Office ( she had Google Map the address before taking off) and walked in with the confidence of a supermodel ( think Heidi Klum or Tyra Banks.) The receptionist, immediately raised her head, and gave her a ``what do you want look? `` She approached and like she rehearsed she said:
-`` Hi I am here to see Mr. Brown.``
-``Do you have an appointment?``
-``No``
-`Then, sorry you’ll have to schedule one.``
-``Fair enough`` she said trying to sound calm and collected.`` when can I schedule it?``
-``Let me check...um...I’m sorry but the next available date is Febuary 27th 2012... should I schedule it for then?``
Lauren felt the rage boiling inside her, Febuary 2012, she couldn’t wait that long. It might kill her...literally ( had she mentioned she spent the last 3 summers in drama camp?)
-`` I can’t wait that long`` she said half-sobbing and half screaming.
-`` I’m going to ask you to keep your voice down or I’m going to call security.``
Defeated, she turned around and noticed the big doors with DEAN OF ADMISSIONS written in gold on it. She saw a shadow, he was in today. She had an idea. She turned around to face the receptionist and flashed an angelic smile.
-``I’m sorry for my outburst! I’ll like to schedule that appointment for next year if that would still be possible.``
The receptionist looked at her then back at her computer. She hadn’t realized that Lauren was slowly moving towards the dean’s office. When the receptionist seemed absorb in typing the appointment in, Lauren made a break for it and opened violently the dean’s door. She stumbled into the office and locked the door rapidly behind her as she heard the little old lady calling for security. She hadn’t much time. She turned around and came face to face with Mr. the Dean. His name slipped her mind. He looked at her startled then just as he was about to call for security she interrupted him:
-``Wait! I just need a minute! Please.``
-`` Fine but if this is not worth it you can be facing some serious charges, understand?``
She nodded
-`` It’ll be quick I promise! First off I would like to introduce myself. I’m Lauren Baker, a high school student who applied here for the Fall Term and...``
-``Let me stop you right there, let me guess you want to know why you didn’t get in. Is that right?``
-`` Yeah but...``
-``Yeah but you’re not like the other students that come here usually, you think you actually deserve it and that you were treated unfairly. Am I right? ``
She felt suddenly very stupid and nodded.
-``Well let me see in your files Ms. Baker, have a seat.``
Lauren smoothed her skirt, sat up and cross her legs at the ankles.
-``Oh I see...no your rejection was no mistake... certainly not a mistake.``
-`` But I got perfect SAT scores, I’ve done extracurricular activities, I was valedictorian then what’s wrong? ``
-`` Well you may not know this, but the admissions officers do more than just look at what you send them. They know more about you than you think.``
-```What do you mean? ``
He went on to explain what they had found out about her using various sources such as social networking sites, Google search and they had gotten their hands on an electronic file containing personal data gathered on her using everything from the indelible trace she’s left on the Internet. Google searches are kept on file for two years. Though one may think they deleted passwords, pins etc, it is never destroyed unless you physically destroyed the hard disk. He informed her of the use of data gathering cookies which were dropped on websites around the world and collected everything from activity rate to comments from its users. It is quite easy to bypass the confidentiality on social networking site and the search browsers saves our information way after we’re gone. The information is then sold to institutions, businesses or is simply left online for the public. He carried on:
-``If that wasn’t enough, you know those accounts on Twitter, Facebook or even MySpace everyone has. Well, it isn’t enough to simply put them on a private setting. If you think it is impossible to see the pictures or status updates you put private then think again. With basic knowledge in Internet privacy, anyone can go around the confidentiality parameters of those social networking sites. Our research could have gone further but they didn’t because then it could be considered a felony. When we tell you, young adults, to not post something online that you wouldn’t post on your school’s bulletin board, we’re not simply telling you that to get up all in your grill as you kids so tastefully call it. We’ve been warning high school students as well as the young adults going off into the work place for quite some time now. Nevertheless, don’t let your past mistake affect your future, you have a bright one. Thought it may not be spent here at NYU, it doesn’t mean it cannot shine elsewhere.
-`` This can’t be legal. `` said Lauren `` what about privacy and personal space.``
-`` Privacy? What about it? Lauren, let me introduce you to The Point...because you are missing it! These were online for everyone to see. They might have been private but you know better that anything you do online is never truly secret. Everything you do is saved, retraced or used again. ``
She could not believe the evidence she had in front of her. Facebook pictures that she put private, comments made on websites, chat logs, her interests, her most visited websites, and they knew everything about her even the moments of which she wasn’t proud. Lauren was stunned by the amount of information they had on her. Everything from her favourite bands, movies, YouTube videos. With that, there were also, the nasty comments she made on a couple website, when she decided to vent out her rage using the comforting anonymity of the Internet. The pictures were those of the last party she went to, she came out quite hammered and the pictures were not very flattering.
It wasn’t fair.
As if the Dean could read her thoughts he said: `` Life is not fair.``
She got up, mumbled some quick goodbye and thank-you and scrambled out of the office turning red with rage and shame. She couldn’t believe it. Was that what the world had come to? She knew that she did make mistakes but should it be allowed to search that way? She didn’t reflect on that question very long. Defeated she glumly walked to the train station and hopped on the earliest train out of there. This time she didn’t go unnoticed, she cried the whole way back to her house.
She found her worried parents in the kitchen. They looked up; her mom let out a sigh of relief and gave her a warm embrace, Lauren started to sob hysterically. She saw that her dad was furious but a pitying look came across her face when she started crying. He patted her back and smoothed her hair. What was she thinking going all the way to New York like that? To find out that she didn’t deserve to go to NYU after all. She was a failure, she thought.
When she woke up a couple hours later, she was lying on her bed, not knowing how she got there. As the last day’s events slowly crept back in her mind, she burst out in tears. She felt foolish, betrayed and violated. A certain rage slowly made its way up her spine; her whole body was shaking with this energy. She leapt from her bed and threw open her drawers to find her notebook. She sat down and started to write. She didn’t move until she was all done. People needed to know this she thought. She was going to publish this later and hopefully no one would ever get hurt like she did. When she was done she took a step back and found this:
1- Don’t EVER EVER comment when angry
2- Remember when you post pictures online its like posting them on a bulletin board in your school entry way
3- Nothing ever gets erased once on the web…it is there…forever
4- Even the most secure privacy setting can be flawed and misleading
5- Always read fine print…yes I know that I have read and agree to the terms of conditions is the biggest lie. Well it shouldn’t be anymore!
6- Do you really know this person you’re currently adding as friend?
7- Always ask yourself: Do I trust this website where I have to write my phone number, name, last name, address and gender to sign up?
8- Setting your profile, photos, comments on private doesn’t make them private.
9- When you think they can never find something, they will find it and keep it FOREVER.
10- Be careful
She let out a sigh of relief and melancholy. She had missed her opportunity but others didn’t have too. If privacy was no longer available then the only thing left to do was to hide as much as one can. Unfortunately, they can find you anyhow but let’s hope when they do find you; it’s the version of yourself you want to show.
You are me, I am you.
Ryan Thomson. Age: 23. Location: 25, Rosewood Street, Dallas, Texas. Occupation: Dentist. Fan of Bob Dylan and the Beatles. Favourite movie: Lord of the Rings Trilogy. Preoccupied by his weight and wishes he was taller. Is engaged to Lisa McMurray, high school sweetheart. Where can one find all this information? Online. As a matter a fact, all this known facts and more about M. Thomson can be found in one document with the code name 1WE34RT56-90OL. If that wasn’t enough, M. Thomson lived in London, a place where Closed Circuit Television is of common usage. We could know his whereabouts, his activities and monitor his life in all its aspects. What happens when someone decides they want to be Ryan Thomson?
Dring Dring Dring!
-`` Hello``
-``May I please speak to M. Thomson?`` said the voice on the other line.
-``This is he.``
-``We would like to inform you that your shipment of collectible Marvel Comics might be a few business days late.``
-``Marvel Comics? I did not order any comic book. You must have the wrong person. Sorry.``
Ryan hanged up. Probably some silly prank again. Though it wouldn’t be the first time he’s been confused with someone else. As a matter a fact, it’s been happening for a couple of months now. Now, that he was thinking about it he should probably look into it.
He made an appointment to see his banker that afternoon. Something was wrong, he could feel it. Five seconds later, the phone rang.
-`` Hello``
-``May I please speak to M. Thomson? ``
-``This is he.``
-``We would like to confirm your change of address. ``
-``My change of address? You must have the wrong person. Sorry. ``
-``No, sir. We specifically got a request for a change of address from M. Thomson living at 25, Rosewood Street, Dallas, Texas. Is that you?``
-``Well, yes. However, I did not called to change my address. I’m not going anywhere!``
He hanged up, outrage. One word came to mind: Identity theft. He went online to check for his account history and called the bank to tell them that his account might have been compromise. This could not be happening. He had always been so careful, so he thought.
A couple hours later, he pulled up to the bank. Mr. Johnson, his banker of 5 years welcomed him and ushered him in his office.
``So I’ve heard you suspect an account compromise. Let us check to see.``
``Oh I see. Yes definitely strange. It says here you’ve taken out 700$ loans, subscribe to various magazines and societies. You’ve changed your address?``
``No that’s what I’m telling you. Somebody’s going around with my identity.``
At that moment, his cell phone rang.
``Hello``
It was Lisa.
```Hi sweetie. ``
``We’re still on for dinner tonight? ``
``Dinner? `` Ryan said confused.
``Yeah. You texted me this morning to tell me to get ready for dinner at 6 pm.``
``No I didn’t``
``Yes, I even have the text. ``
It suddenly clicked. That wasn’t him. Whoever was behind those loans and subscriptions were also behind change of addresses and text messages to his girlfriend. It was already frightening to know that someone was using his money but communicating with loved ones under his identity, now that was eerie.
``Lisa, listen to me. That text wasn’t sent by me but simply someone who took my identity. ``
``Ryan what in god’s name are you talking about? Someone took your identity? How is that even possible? ``
``That’s what I’m trying to figure out. From now on don’t listen to my texts, I’ll call you if I need anything.``
``Okay.”
“That was my fiancée; she got a text message from me that I didn’t send. Someone is doing more than simply taking out money. They’ve taken over my whole identity.’’
“ Sir, this is an issue you’ll have to take up with the police. Here at the bank, we can simply suspend your accounts for now.”
After thanking him for his time, Ryan got up and headed for the police station. He asked to report an identity theft. He was soon questioned by a police officer, who took his information and promise to contact him if they ever found more.
Ryan discouraged and frighten drove back home. There he found, a truck parked in front of his house. Alarmed, he got out and found two men looking through the window.
“Excuse me.”
The men looked startled.
“We were simply looking if anybody was home. We were called here by the owner to take a tour of the house. Apparently it’s being sold privately.” said the youngest one.
“What? I’m the owner and this house is definitely not being sold. Who told you it was in the first place?”
“The house was up on a website with a phone number. The gentleman on the phone assured us that the house was being sold publicly hence the lack of a realtor. I guess now that I think about it we should have been more careful and saw right through the scam. You know, the guy on the phone said he was going to meet us here in 5 minutes”
“Really? We can finally catch him. Okay here’s what we are going to do…”
Time: 4:05 pm
A sleek black car pulled up in the driveway. A man dressed in corduroy pants and a red sweater came out with a folder in hand. He greeted the two men and pulled out a key.
A key! Ryan thought. How did he get a key of the house? He was hiding in his car across the street.
In the distance, sirens are heard. A shifting look to the side and a nervous giggle from the mysterious identity thief gives him away. The police cars surround the house. What happens next was worthy of an episode on a police chase show. The middle-age man made a break for it. He ran as fast as his short and heavy legs let him. He hadn’t had time to go further than the driveway when one of the officers pinned him against the pavement.
Under 15 minutes, he was in the backseat of the police car with a defeated expression. I followed closely behind. I wanted an explanation.
Unfortunately, I was disappointed to learn that I was not allowed to interrogate him myself and had to wait at least a day for the police to confirm all the information to me. In the meantime, I had to go home.
The next day, I was at the police station by noon. A document was waiting for me explaining the last month’s occurrences. The man, named Jimmy Solo, was defininetly suspect and had all the evidence proving him guilty. He was due in court that following week. Until then, the investigator had gathered enough evidence for 20 years in prison.
Firstly, the man ha gotten my credit card information using a device that he used to scan credit cards. As a matter of fact, the portable device was in a knapsack. When the man walked pass people on the street the portable scan the cards that were in their pockets or bags. Once the card scanned, it was easy to find the rest of the information. He had payed hackers to get internet activity files to gather as much information about me as possible. For some time, Jimmy Solo was known as Ryan Thomson to many. Just thinking about it, makes me shiver. As to how he got my house keys and my girlfriend’s phone number, itr was quite easy. First off, he had managed to get my relationship and the people to whom I was associated to using my social networking profiles. Then he looked up Lisa and the information was almost too easy to find. When he had texted her under false pretences, he had wanted to get the information for our house alarm code from her. However, he realized he could simply hijack the system and turned off the alarm externally. Finally, to get the key, he had followed me around for a while as well as Lisa and he saw us drop my key off to get a spare for Lisa. Later on, he pretended to be me, which was easy to do since he had all my information, and got the key.
Why did he want to sell my house? Obviously for money, he would have made the buyers give him the money directly. Once the down payment was made, he would disappear and made me deal with the whole mess. Foolproof plan? Not so much.
I imagine my ordeal if I hadn’t pulled up to my house to find the potential buyers of my house. When you hear stories of identity theft, it never seem so threatening but the table turns on you…it’s a different story.
