Women's Safety USA

If You Have a Daughter, Please Read This ☝️

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There's a new trick predators are using at college parties, and it's not in the drink. If your daughter is away at school, please read this all the way to the end. Then send it to her. My name is Tracy. My daughter Megan is 19. She's a sophomore at a state school five hours from our house. You need to know what kind of girl Megan is, or none of this makes sense. Megan is the mom friend. In high school she was the one holding everybody's phone while they danced. She made a group chat called "Who's Driving" and nobody was allowed to leave it. At school she's the same. She counts heads before they leave a party. She counts again before they go home. She also knows every rule. I made sure of that. Never take a drink from a guy. Never put your cup down. If you put it down, it's gone, get a new one. Never walk home alone. Never leave without your girls. She can say them faster than I can. A few Saturdays ago she went to a house party off campus with her two roommates, Jess and Priya. A big old house on Elm Street that a bunch of juniors rent. She texted me at 10:40. "At the party. Jess and Priya are here. Love you." I checked her location at 11:30. There was the dot, sitting on the house on Elm Street. Right where she said. I went to bed. This is the part she told me later, in pieces. There was a guy there who was nice to her all night. Not creepy nice. Normal nice. Brown beanie, flannel, maybe 22. He never tried to dance with her. He never offered her a drink. When a guy from the lacrosse team got too close to Priya, he was the one who said, "Dude, back off." Megan said he was the only guy there who didn't want anything. Around midnight she told him she was done drinking. She'd had two beers that she opened herself. He said, "Smart. Hold on." He came back from the kitchen with a bottle of water. He'd already cracked the cap for her. She thought that was sweet. Think about that for a second. I spent two years telling my daughter to watch her drink. I never once said a word about water. Nobody does. About 20 minutes later she couldn't stand up straight. She said the room started tipping, like she was on a boat. Her tongue felt too big for her mouth. She tried to text Jess and she couldn't get her fingers to hit the right letters. She didn't tell anybody. I asked her why, later. She said, "Mom, I'm the one who takes care of everybody. I didn't want to be the drunk one." That's on me. I'm the one who told her, you're the responsible one. Don't be the girl somebody has to carry home. The nice guy found her leaning on the wall by the stairs. He said, "Hey. Your roommates went outside. Come on, I'll take you to them." And Megan, who counts heads, wanted to find her girls. So she went with him. He didn't grab her. He walked beside her, out the front door, across the porch, down the steps. "This way. They're right over here." Jess and Priya were not outside. They were in the kitchen the whole time. Parked past the porch was a dark gray Altima with the engine running. The back door was already open. There was another guy sitting in the driver's seat. Megan said she looked at that open door and something in her stomach dropped. The nice guy stepped in close behind her. "Here, I got you. Just sit down." She tried to say no. It came out as nothing. She tried to step back and her legs wouldn't do it. Megan walks everyone home. That night she could not walk. But her keys were on a lanyard around her wrist, the way they always are, because she's always the one who drives. And on that lanyard was the SheSafe I put in her care package before she went back for sophomore year. She grabbed it and pulled the two halves apart. If you've never heard one up close, it's as loud as an ambulance siren. And there's a white flashlight strobe that goes off with it. She said it lit up the inside of that car like daylight. About 20 kids were standing on the porch. Every one of them turned around. A girl on the steps screamed, "What are you doing with her?" A guy came off the porch with his phone up, filming. The nice guy put both hands up and said, "She's fine, she's just drunk." Then he got in the back seat, shut the door, and the car pulled away. Not fast. It just left. Jess heard the noise from the kitchen and came running out the front door. She found Megan sitting on the curb, holding her wrist against her chest, with the alarm still going. Her fist was still wrapped around her keys. I was asleep. My phone rang at 1:14 in the morning. It was Jess's number. I don't think I've ever been that awake that fast. Jess was crying. Then Megan got on and she sounded like somebody had turned her voice down. She kept saying, "I'm okay, Mom. I'm okay. I don't know what happened." I drove five hours in the dark. I don't remember most of it. I got to the hospital a little after 7. Megan was in a bed with a blanket pulled up to her chin. The lanyard was still wrapped around her wrist. The nurse said she wouldn't let them take it off. The hospital ran her blood. They found something in it that she never took. Jess went back to the house that morning to look for the water bottle. It was gone. The whole kitchen had been cleaned up. The next day a detective came to the girls' apartment. Detective Kim. She sat at their little kitchen table, the one with the wobbly leg, with her notebook. The kid on the porch had sent her his video. You could read the plate on the Altima. She said the plate went with two other reports near campus that same semester. Two other parties. Same nice guy. Same thing every time. A bottle of water, with the cap already open. I asked her about the other two girls. She said the first one's roommate saw her walking out the front door and pulled her back inside. I asked her about the second one. Detective Kim closed her notebook. "She went home with them," she said. "Her case is still open." That's all she would say. Then she told us why Megan was the one sitting at that table. She said, "Ask yourself why he never bought her a drink. Ask yourself why he was the nice one all night." Because that's his whole job. They work in pairs. One is the nice guy. The other one waits in the car. She said every girl at that school has heard "watch your drink" a hundred times. So he doesn't touch the drink. He brings her water, because nobody tells her to watch her water. "And ask yourself why he walked her outside." Because inside that house there were 60 people. He can't do anything with 60 people looking. At the curb at 1 in the morning, there's nobody. She said Megan couldn't have fought two grown men, not on whatever was in that bottle. She didn't need to. "The second that porch turned around, he was done," she said. "That's why he left. Nobody had to stop him." She said what happened to Megan's voice happens to most girls even sober. About 7 out of 10 freeze when a man is right on top of them. Add what was in that water, and it's almost all of them. "Her voice quit," she said. "Her legs quit. Her hand didn't." My husband asked about pepper spray. Megan isn't allowed to have it in her dorm. Detective Kim said even if she had it, she would have had to find it, aim it, and spray it, with hands that couldn't hit a letter on her phone. That's the other thing. Megan tried to call me while she was leaning on that wall. She couldn't get her passcode right. She tried four times. I bought her the phone so she could always reach me. It didn't do her any good at all. Then Detective Kim looked down at the lanyard on the table and said, "Is that a SheSafe?" I said yes. She said, "Good." She said she's seen a lot of girls carry the cheap ones with a little button. They get bumped in the library and start screaming, and the girl is so embarrassed it's in a drawer by second semester. She said what she likes about this one is you can't set it off by bumping it. You have to really pull it apart with your whole fist. And once it's going, it doesn't stop until the two halves touch again. "So if he grabs for it, she throws it," she said. "As far as she can. He can stomp on it. He can kick it into the street. It keeps going. She has the other half." I want to be honest about something. I almost didn't put it in that box. It was a care package. Granola bars, a phone charger, the fuzzy socks she likes, a gift card for Chipotle. I bought the SheSafe at the last minute and almost took it back out because I didn't want her to think I was being dramatic. Megan FaceTimed me when the box came and held it up to the camera. "What is this thing?" I told her it was for walking to her car. She said, "If this thing screams in a lecture, I'm dropping out." I told her the truth. It won't go off unless she pulls it apart. It never once went off in her bag. Not in class, not at the gym, not in the bottom of her purse. She put it on her lanyard so I'd stop asking. Megan came home with me for a week after that night. She slept in her old room with the door open. Then she said she was going back. I didn't want her to. She went anyway. A few weeks later Jess had a birthday party at a house a few streets over from Elm. Megan went. She brought her own water. A sealed bottle from her own fridge, in her own bag. She had her lanyard around her wrist. Around 1, a guy she didn't know said, "You heading out? Want me to walk you to your car?" She told me her hand was already closed around her keys before she even thought about it. She said, "No thanks. My roommates are walking me." And they did. Same kind of party. Same kind of guy. The only thing different was her. Jess and Priya both have one now. So do two girls on Megan's floor. I sent their moms the link myself. I'm writing this for the mom I was before that Saturday. If you told her to watch her drink, so did I. It wasn't in the drink. If she never leaves without her friends, mine went outside to find hers. If you can see her location, so could I. The dot showed me the house on Elm Street. It didn't show me the car at the curb. If she'd call you, Megan tried. She couldn't get her passcode right. Megan and the girl whose case is still open walked out the same front door with the same nice guy. One of them had something on her wrist. I don't work for them. I'm just Megan's mom, and I was asleep five hours away when it happened. I couldn't sit on this. This is where I got hers. 👉 https://www.tryshesafe.com/pages/momreport-v1 Tracy, Megan's mom P.S. It's buy one get one right now, and they put 3 free gifts in the box. It came out to under $40 each, which is less than one of her textbooks. One went on Megan's lanyard and one went to Jess. I ordered two more for Priya and her little sister. P.P.S. There's a 365-day money-back guarantee. A whole year. The school charges her more than that for a parking pass and gives nothing back. P.P.P.S. They were almost sold out when I ordered the second batch. If this page still loads, I'd grab them now. P.P.P.P.S. Every weekend she's at school is a weekend with a party. If your girl goes out on weekends, drives herself home at night, or lives off campus, she's going to be at a house like the one on Elm Street. P.P.P.P.P.S. Detective Kim said one more thing on her way out. "Everybody tells them to watch the drink, so that's the one place he never goes." Please send this to your daughter tonight. Tell her it's not in the drink. And send it to every mom you know with a girl away at school. 👉 https://www.tryshesafe.com/pages/momreport-v1