I have been physically attacked multiple times while all alone and no one to help me.

I would say the worst moment wrapped in the worst event out of all of them was when the people (group of 3) who attacked me lied to the police that I attacked them and I sat in a police car moments after the attack at about 3 am for about 40 minutes wondering if I was about to go to jail, wondering if I had injured any of them (thus was going to jail as I had no marks on me but I pushed someone really hard trying to get away and was unsure if her fall caused her damage) after fighting for my life to get away from being (ironically considering their motives) cornered, grabbed, slammed to the ground and imprisoned in my own room at 1 in the morning. I was playing minecraft at the time. Also completely sober. I had to get a restraining order on them. This person and their accomplices then tried to illegally evict me (they were my "landlord" and their friends I suppose, I had paid them rent completely btw, they had cashed my check for them month then less than a week after, attacked me saying I "needed to leave"), later after the attack they tried to change the lock on me in less than 24 hours, threatened to throw away my things, and I basically had to get a police to escort me every time I wanted to get to the house even after I served the temporary RO because it was only worked on half the assailants, the other I didn't know their full names or their residency so I was unable to serve them, nor did I even have their description as it was dark in my room when they attacked.

I also had to pay a lawyer for consultation...but I didn't have enough money, so I just lived out of the shittiest hotel rooms and moved out as quickly as possible and didn't press charges (I had no marks so I couldn't prove anything happened except my word against the word of 3 people.)

The best of all? And this is where it still makes me super super upset. These freaks tried to frame me as a drug addict! Unrecognizable numbers from unrecognizable area codes would text me at ALL HOURSE for "an ounce of brown" "where's the hash" "please get me some mary." This is while I was at work, at 7 am in the morning, 3 am etc. Honestly without my SO there to support me I probably would have had a complete mental breakdown (he was away when this attack happened...which I think my "landlord" knew and thus, planned.) With his support I eventually went to the police with this and they called one of the numbers for me...It turned out to be the landlord who attacked me who answered which was nice...the story gets better...

So the cop called and in a very cop voice said "Hi I'm officer so and so badge nu etc etc..."I can still see the face and hear the voices of the (thankfully nice) and the bald faced lies over the phone said by the "landlord" that they lent the phone to a "friend named rico a few week ago" and that was the "explanation" for the texts on my phone. Thing was I had texts from a "rico" from her number while I was waiting in the police station. The cop then told me that the officer who took the call the night of the attack then told me that my attackers had claimed they were evicting me because I and my boyfriends were heroin dealers.

The cop who took me in never told me that tidbit, but did tell me the people who attacked me were "visibly intoxicated" and he didn't believe their stories about me illegally staying there, considering 1) the time of month and time of night of the attack and 2) their glazed eyes and slurred speech and 3) their age, and 4) he saw new doorknobs and locks on the dining table still in their packages... they had planned I suppose (?) to grab me (Im a small woman) and bodily throw me out of the house and lock me out? I don't know. The cop didn't charge me nor take me to the station, and set me up with a DV victim assistance program that got me a few days of free hotel stays.

It blew my mind the lengths this family went to try to ruin me, and still does to this day. The violence they used as a tool to get what they want, and the sick ways they tried to cover it up. They got what they wanted. I moved out. However, I filed a report with a police, got a restraining order on them, and am pretty sure at least one of the attackers got a major verbal punishing from their parents. However I did not have the evidence, time nor money to press charges.

But again, these people not only told the police I was a heroin addict but that my boyfriend and I (a very straight, middle class individual with a child whom he has full custody of, a successful consulting business, and a standing in town where people know him jokingly as a "dad" because he is so mature for his age) were heroin DEALERS. DEALERS OF HEROIN. It was probably one of the worst couple months of my life.

Edit: Just for the skeptics, I have never touched anything but weed an alcohol in my entire life (okay and once LSD but only once), but never drank anything but occasional wine with my parents until I was for real 21. I had an abusive boyfriend who was a for real weed addict so I didn't even like to smoke anything but the occasional bowl. I lived in a Buddhist monastary for 8 years. I have TWO not one gym membership and I am a certified yoga teacher and was even a high school coach for a time.

PS: Also I broke my voice for over a week from screaming while trying to get away from these fucks.

PPS: I never considered myself a vengeful person and these fucks had me fantasizing about things I never thought I was capable of thinking about anyone.

PPPS: Redflag behavior is now apparent within the two months that I stayed there that I should have noticed at this house such as: underage drinking, people fighting/yelling, loud parties to very late with beer cans being thrown and cars parked on the grass, and strangers coming in and bragging about their convictions. To me, these people were KIDS though (I mean only a few years younger than me but still I thought they were "kids like me" and the stuff they were telling stories about were mostly bravado...turns out I was really wrong.)

PPPPS: This whole thing would've been very different I suppose, had I not gotten my phone stolen the very day before. Why? When I got away, I ran, RAN about a half mile once I escaped from the house, to beg a gas station attendant to call 911 for me. This made the whole thing drag out in time that made it infinitely worse for me as I felt completely powerless.

TL:DR being assaulted at 1 in the morning and not knowing if you were the one going to jail...