Nobody.

When it hits, it hits you quickly.... all at once. It's like.... I guess... What snorting heroin must feel like. Except this is no euphoria. It's a cocktail of emotions-- fear, pain, and an angry helplessness. You're upset. You're paranoid. You know what's wrong. You want to stop it. You want to stop them. But, you can't. You know that you're just one person. And no one will ever believe you if you told them. No one will ever help you bring these bastards into jail. Your mother threatens to institutionalize you, if you talk more about it. You're not a movie star. You're not anyone special. Nobody cares about you. You're not tall, thin, and striking like she is. She laughs you off. You shut up, to brood quietly in your own mind, of why this personal hell was created. Why are they doing this? Why can't they leave you alone? You remember how you prayed as a child. "Anything to be attractive to boys". You thought this would make the teasing from them stop. You had always been called "ugly shrew"--for being an opinionated little girl who stood up strongly for her beliefs. And then someone up there must have heard you. He took away your public speaking skills, and your luck, in exchange for a normal girl to be attractive.... to all the wrong people. You see, poor little girl, you didn't specify what type..... So I sent you stalkers, psychopaths, and sociopaths. You're beautiful to them. Aren't you happy?
No.
You're petrified. You're frightened. You're so desperate for a way out.
And.
The only way to solve it... is death. You stare at your bare wrists. You stare at the knife in your drawer. You stare at the sleeping pills. Everything's prepared. But what if they join you? The thoughts of death cease. You hate them, but there is nothing you can do to make it stop. If not even death will create a barrier.... There are no other options. You turn back to frustration, anger, and helplessness, cursing your existence.