The Day I Confronted My Troll

The following excerpts come from an article that appeared on the UK's The Guardian.  It is a story about someone who dropped off Twitter because he began to receive threatening messages online.

Eventually, it escalated to in-person harassment.

I received a parcel at my home address. Nothing unusual there – I get lots of post. I ripped it open and there was a Tupperware lunchbox inside full of ashes. There was a note included, saying, "Say hello to your relatives from Auschwitz". I was physically sick.

I was petrified. They had my address. I reported it to the authorities and hoped for the best.

Two days later I opened my front door and there was a bunch of dead flowers with my wife's old Twitter username on it. Then that night I received a DM. "You'll get home some day & ur bitches throat will be cut & ur son will be gone."

The author ultimately managed to track down his troll. He turned out to be his friend's 17-year old son.

I put my hand on his shoulder and asked him: "Why?"

The Troll sat there for a moment and said "I don't know. I don't know. I'm sorry. It was like a game thing."

A game thing.

So, that's what it was...

Read the article.  It's pretty disturbing.