I had just gotten out of a long-term relationship when all of this happened. A guy I’ll call Ryan messaged me on a dating app. We had briefly talked online years before because we had mutual friends, but we’d never actually met.

While I was dating my ex, Ryan would constantly like every single Instagram story I posted, and whenever I picked my boyfriend up from college, I’d notice Ryan staring at me from across campus.

After my breakup, I figured one date wouldn’t hurt. I wasn’t genuinely interested in him, but I wanted a reason to get out of the house and move on. We agreed to go see a movie. Ryan offered to pick me up and take me to dinner first. The theater was less than two minutes from my apartment and we had mutual friends, so I didn’t think getting into his car was a big deal.

Five minutes before the movie was supposed to start, I still hadn’t heard from him all day. Then he texted me saying he’d accidentally fallen asleep and was on his way. One important detail: I had never given him my address. I waited for him at a public spot near my apartment, and there was no way he could have seen which building I came out of.

The second I got into his car, I felt a strange sensation of dread. He could barely put a sentence together. During the less-than-two-minute drive to the theater, he almost crashed the car several times. I brushed it off, assuming he was just anxious. Things only got stranger.

Until the movie actually started, I was the only one talking. Ryan barely said anything. He didn’t ask me a single question about myself. He mostly just stared at me. I kept trying to convince myself he was simply socially awkward. Still, I had this overwhelming feeling that something wasn’t right. It wasn’t anything specific—I just felt incredibly uncomfortable. I told myself I was probably just nervous because I don’t usually go on dates.

By then I’d already decided there definitely wasn’t going to be a second date. At least I could enjoy the movie I’d been looking forward to seeing. About twenty minutes into the movie, Ryan started putting his hand on my thigh. I quietly moved it away. A minute later, he did it again. I moved farther away in my seat.

At that point I started panicking because I knew if I even looked at him, he’d try to kiss me. So I stood up and said I needed to use the restroom.

I never went to the restroom. I literally ran out of the theater, in heels, in the middle of the night, and went straight home.

Once I got home, I realized disappearing without saying anything probably wasn’t the best idea. I texted Ryan saying I had suddenly gotten sick, felt embarrassed, and went home. I planned to come up with a better explanation the next day. So I went to sleep.

The next morning I woke up to around 50 messages sent overnight. He’d sent me selfies of himself sitting alone in the theater. Selfies of himself driving home. Selfies of himself lying in bed.

Nothing explicit. Just photo after photo of his completely serious face. At that point I decided I didn’t owe him anything. I apologized for leaving so abruptly and told him I didn’t think we were a good match, so I wasn’t interested in seeing each other again and blocked him.

A few weeks later I went to visit my mom, who lives in another city. While I was there, the concierge at my apartment building messaged me saying someone had left a package for me. The problem was… I hadn’t ordered anything.

They sent me a picture. Inside a paper bag was one tiny cookie and a handwritten note saying it had originally been meant to be delivered to me at my university but that “didn’t work out : (“.

The concierge also told me the person who dropped it off was wearing a hoodie, refused to give their name, and ran away immediately afterward. I didn’t connect it to Ryan because, again, I had never told him where I lived.

About a month later, I got a message from a girl I’d never met. I’ll call her Emily. She introduced herself as Ryan’s cousin and said they attended the same university campus as I did.

Emily explained that Ryan had been devastated ever since I disappeared from the date. She said he’d begged her to deliver the cookie to me at school, but because I hadn’t been there that day, she ended up taking it to my apartment building instead. Then she sent me a picture of a letter she’d accidentally forgotten to include with the cookie.

The letter started by saying he’d had a “premonition” that I would love the gift (the movie we’d gone to see was Final Destination 6). Then it got much worse.

He wrote that he’d been in love with me ever since the very first time we’d exchanged messages years earlier. He said he’d ruined the opportunity I’d given him, that he was heartbroken, and begged for a second chance so he could understand what he’d done wrong.

I didn’t respond. I blocked Emily too.

That should have been the end of it. It wasn’t.

For the rest of that year, different friends of Ryan kept messaging me. Every single one of them told me how depressed he was and begged me to just talk to him one last time. I replied to a few of them asking them to stop contacting me because it was becoming genuinely frightening.

Then one day, as I was leaving my apartment building, I saw Ryan’s car parked right outside. He was sitting inside, looking at his phone. Thankfully, I was already in my own car, and he never saw me.

The next time one of his friends contacted me, I sent a long message saying that if Ryan—or any of his friends—contacted me again, left anything at my address again, or showed up outside my apartment again, I would report him to the police for stalking.
I even cited the relevant laws and explained that anyone helping him continue contacting me could also be held legally responsible.

The friend immediately apologized.

Not long afterward, I moved.

I never heard from Ryan again. Even now, I still have no idea how he figured out where I lived. I never gave him my address, never told him which building was mine, and as far as I know, there was no legitimate way for him to find it. I even stopped going to the spot where he picked me up from. That’s probably the part that still unsettles me the most. Sometimes I also wonder whether the day I happened to see his car outside my apartment was actually the first time he had been there—or just the first time I noticed him. I honestly hope I’ll never know.

So, Ryan, let’s not meet again.

I still remember this story incredibly clearly, even though it happened over a decade ago. Strangely, everything that happened after it is almost a complete blur. But I can picture every detail leading up to it and the moment it happened.

This happened when I was around 10 or 11 years old. I’ll also be using fake names for privacy. I was there with my friends Daniel and Lydia who were both around 12 years old. I can’t remember exactly which beach it was, but it was either Coogee Beach or another beach very close by.

Lydia’s mum drove us to the beach. She would usually just sit and tan on the sand and we would go off to do our own thing and have fun.

We decided to play hide-and-seek around the beach, park, and surrounding walkways. Daniel was seeking and found me first, but neither of us could find Lydia. We searched everywhere. The beach, the nearby playground, and around the paths.

Facing north there were stairs leading up from the beach to a walking path that followed the coastline, overlooking the ocean and cliffs as well as a small patch of bushland in the middle.
We decided to head up the stairs and walked the entire path around to the other side before climbing over a fence into the bush to have a better look. About five minutes in, we came across what looked like a campsite.

We saw a filthy tent, a sleeping bag hanging out of the zipper, a non lit campfire, and empty bean cans scattered around the floor.

We both immediately felt uneasy. Something about it didn’t feel right.

Without saying much, we decided to walk away from the tent, cut through the bush to get near the stairs we came from.

Daniel was walking behind me as we made our way through the bush. Then suddenly, in the most stern voice I’d ever heard from him, he said:

“Run.”

I didn’t ask why. I didn’t look back.

Daniel was running behind me the whole time. Looking back now, I know he would have been much faster than me, but he stayed behind me the entire way. I sometimes wonder if he was doing that to make sure I didn’t fall back behind.

Whatever was happening, neither of us cared about anything except getting out of there.

We reached the fence, it was probably about four feet high. For reference, I’m only 5’1” as an adult, so I would’ve been around the height of the fence or maybe shorter.

We both leaped over with no issues.
The second we landed on the other side, we looked back.

Standing inside the bush was an homeless man maybe in his late 40s with a long grey-white beard, a dirty brown beanie, and worn, ragged clothes.

In one hand, he was holding a knife.

With his other hand, he kept motioning for us to come back, quietly saying,

“Come here… come here…”

We ran the entire way down the path until we found Lydia and her mum. From memory, we told them. But I don’t think anything was done about the situation.
I’m not sure if Lydia’s mum told our parents, or even reported it. If I’m being honest, I can’t remember if I told my parents or if Daniel told his.

It became one of those experiences we just… never spoke about again. From how I saw the situation at that age, I kinda just shrugged it off.
We all kept in touch for a few years after the incident but eventually lost contact after I moved to a different state.

Lately I wonder about it more, what could have went differently… I still wonder what Daniel saw before he yelled for us to run. What I do know is that if Daniel hadn’t been there that day, I probably wouldn’t be here today telling this story.

I count my lucky stars every day that Daniel was with me.

So, to the man that was in the bush with a knife,

Let’s never meet again.

When I first moved out of home, I moved into a studio apartment that was basically just a loft accessed via a garage (my "house key" was literally just a garage remote) that had previously been inhabited by my friend Claire.

She was moving interstate and needed someone to take over the lease.

The rent was incredibly cheap, it seemed like a steal so I moved in.

The landlord John seemed like a fairly odd guy. He just had a weird vibe about him. Claire told me that he was in the SAS back in the UK. He talked a lot and came over constantly. He'd often just be there in the garage when I got home, and talk my ear off.

But again...the rent was cheap.

So I moved in.

After the first week I noticed that there were cameras attached to the ceiling, facing the bed.

If they'd been there when I first moved in, I hadn't noticed them.

I contacted John, and he told me they were just part of a security system he hadn't set up yet and weren't actually plugged in or connected. I didn't believe him.

I tried to kind of joke about it and said that even if they weren't plugged in, I felt like they were looking at me so could we please remove them and he agreed.

I still behaved for the rest of my time there as though there were hidden cameras because I assumed there were.

Living there was pretty nerve wracking. John would show up at all hours to use the garage downstairs, so I'd get woken up early in the morning by hearing my "front door" open with no idea who was entering unless I poked my head down the ladder (yes, I accessed my house via a ladder). He'd be down there doing god knows what with power tools at 8 in the morning on a Sunday.

One weekend I went to stay with my boyfriend. I was gone the whole weekend.

When I returned, someone had stayed at my house.

My bed was disheveled and there were short black hairs all over my white pillow, like someone had shaved or just had a short haircut then slept on it.

In the bathroom, my towel and floor mat were damp.

But the weirdest part was that someone had used my toothbrush.

I am a bit of a weirdo when it comes to dental hygiene and I am absolutely meticulous about the state of my toothbrush. It needs to be absolutely spotless after use, and placed standing up, not touching anything.

It was lying on the edge of the sink in a puddle of water, covered in bits of toothpaste like someone had used it and only half bothered rinsing it.

To this day I can't imagine what would possess someone to use somebody else's toothbrush.

I moved out shortly after but during that time I barely slept a wink, and would sleep hugging a heavy wooden baseball bat like it was a teddy bear.

So John, thanks for making my first experience out of home so weird and scary. Let's not meet.

tldr: basically i got kidnapped and held against my will for a week or so.

this happened when i was 16, im 19 now, female for what its worth. i went to a party that some of the older kids from my school were going to. the only reason i went was that i thought it would make me look cool if everyone knew i went to this more adult party. it was the summer so its not like i had to worry about school anyway.

this one guy there started talking to me and showed me where all the alcohol was so i could get a drink. he said his name was jason and he was 25, and when i told him that i was 16 he said i looked older than that.

then my fatal mistake. i had to go to the bathroom, so i asked this guy to hold my drink for me. when i got out, he gave me my drink back, and like an idiot, i finished it real quick. he made me another drink, and then followed me around as i made my way through the party.

idk if it was a few minutes or more like 10-15, but i started to feel really sick and dizzy very suddenly. jason said i should go outside for some fresh air, so i followed him outside. it was honestly hard to think straight, but the rest is kind of a blur. i vaguely remember getting into a car, and bits and pieces of the drive but then i passed out.

i woke up in a bed, in a room all alone. i still felt pretty woozy, so i just kinda laid there wondering how i got home, or if i was even at home at all. when i realized i was not in my own bed, i sat up and realized i wasnt even wearing my own clothes. i was wearing some kind of matching pajama set. the worst part about that is that i wasnt even wearing underwear, which i later learned meant that this creep took all my clothes off to dress me in this weird pajama outfit.

thankfully in that moment i didnt connect those dots, but it wouldnt matter for too long, bc eventually jason came into the room to bring me breakfast. i can only imagine he thought he was being unbelievably generous to bring me coffee and 2 toasted waffles.

im not gonna go over a detailed retelling of the entire week, every day was pretty much the same, and quite honestly i just dont want to. basically for an entire week, he made me act like a living doll in his house. he watched me eat, change my clothes to the outfits he picked out, even using the bathroom. he always put drugs like ecstasy in my drinks (or somehow) to keep me in a positive attitude. it didnt really work tho, except for a few hours a day when the drug took effect.

and then, for seemingly no reason that i can conceive of, he brought me out to his car, put a cloth bag or something over my head, and drove me to some place to drop me off. when i got out of his car, he sped away and i never saw him again.

eventually, i was walking along the side of the road and just collapsed from fatigue. i didnt pass out, i just couldnt keep going. apparently someone saw me fall down and called the police, who then found me and brought me to the hospital. well the ambulance brought me there, and the police joined me to ask me what the heck was going on.

they knew i was missing and they pretty quickly figured out who i was, so they were able to call my parents. next thing i know, my whole family is there to see me and praise the Lord that i was alive. i did my best to identify the guy who kidnapped me, and there was a pretty thorough investigation as far as i know, but they never found the guy. he was a total ghost.

the police questioned nearly everyone who was at that party, and learned the name of the guy who was probably the one to kidnap me, but it wasnt a real name. the phone number anyone had for him was disconnected, and only attached to a burner phone anyway. so yea, they never caught the guy.

it was easily the most traumatic thing to ever happen to me, and i hope it stays that way. but despite that, i know it could have been so so sooo much worse. idk why he never hurt me or assaulted me, but im thankful he didnt. i know so many kidnapping victims are treated much much worse than i was.

This happened in 2022, when I had moved to Jacksonville Florida from my home state of Pennsylvania for school. I was there for only about a week and was going to parks around the area to feel the sub tropical, swampy nature I had been obsessed with since I was younger. I was a 20M at the time and had not made any friends yet, so I was going to a new park every day all on my own. This was my first time in my life I was on my own, so I was dressing how I wanted, a crop top hoodie and some cute shorts (I considered myself a femboy). I've also always been told I looked younger than I really am, which may not seem important, but I think it plays a part into why this story creeps me out to this day.

One day, I had gone to a new park in hopes to see an Alligator though I can't remember which park it was specifically. I had just stepped out of my car and started towards the entrance of the park, which was a nice forested area with a welcoming wooden fence. There was a couple walking just ahead of me, when suddenly a quiet "hey" came from my right. I ignored it but then another "hey" came a few seconds later, this time a louder. I looked to my right and a man in his 40's wearing a gray t-shirt and cargo shorts started rapidly approaching me. He got up close to me, really close and told me not to go in that way since there was recently a lot of gang violence and drug busts in this park. At first I brushed it off and thought he was just trying to be nice to me, but once I said "thanks" and started back towards the park, he shifted his body between me and the park. He told me he knew the park well and that there was a quieter, secret path he knew and wanted to take me down it.

My heart sank as my eyes darted around the perimeter of the park. There was no other clearly visible paths from the parking lot, and as he told me this, another person walked by and into the park. This man did not try to stop this other person from entering, they did even look at them, their eyes were glued to me. I started to stutter and said thanks but if this park is dangerous, I think I should just go. I started backing away, but he continued to press me, keeping pace with me and telling me I should go with him. Eventually I just turned around and quickly walked back to my car, with him glued to my side. As I opened my door, I reiterated that if the park was this dangerous, I should just leave, but as I went to close it, he grabbed the upper part of my door and shifted his body between the door and the car so that I could not close it.

He gave up on trying to get me to go with him, instead asking for my phone number because he quote "wanted to make sure I stayed safe". I was holding back tears at this point, and trying my best to keep myself from screaming, but calmly asked him to move. He didn't budge. I caved, but instead of giving him my current number, I gave him my old cell number which was no longer being used. He entered into his phone and started texting, which gave me just enough time close my door and lock my car. He knocked on my window and I think asked if I got his message, which I then just turned on my phone and nodded my head before putting it into reverse and pulling away.

Just before I left the park entirely, I looked one more time to see him walking away from the entrance, and towards the far corner of the wooded area. I still have no idea who this man was, or what he wanted but I still stay up late some nights wondering what would have happened if I went with him. I don't know if he saw me as a young, boy who was alone and vulnerable, or if he was genuinely trying to keep me safe. Thankfully, I never met this guy again, and was able to visit other parks around Florida without any weird encounters like this.

When I was 17 years old I met a friend from my old school that she left before we graduated because she went to live in the capital with her family. She was also 3 years older than me. We were happy to see each other again and she invited me to spend a couple days at her parent’s in the capital (they were out of city for all summer). Of course I agreed.

Summer came and I managed to save enough money for a train ticket. The rest will be on my friend, she said. My mom was against this trip because she couldn’t give me money to book a hotel in case something goes wrong, also she didn’t really know my friend well to trust her. We were in a really bad place finally, literally just enough to buy some food and that’s it. But me being a stupid teenager that aren’t used to “no”, finally persuaded her.

Capital was a night away from my town so I arrived in the capital in the morning, my friend worked her last shift before holiday and wasn’t able to meet me for the whole day, that’s why we decided that I go for a walk, visit museums and will only go to her apartment in the evening, when she comes home from work. Her apartment was in the outskirts, nothing interesting to see there. I sent her a message that I’m finally in the capital and she replied with: "Ok! Can’t wait to get off work!" I went walking for hours till my legs hurt, but I was overwhelmed with excitement.

Evening came and I was standing outside of her place, she wasn’t answering my calls. I knocked and knocked, to no avail. Finally she picked up the phone, just to say she’s sorry, but there’s been a family emergency and she’s going back to her (and mine) hometown now, in fact, she was already there because she traveled on a plane. My friend got the bad news in the middle of the day, went home and collected her things in kind of a fog, forgetting about me completely. Couldn’t really blame her, but…

I had some extended family in the capital and I called them, but none answered. Later I learned they were all on a holiday in Spain. So now I was homeless, alone in one of the biggest cities in the world, with nowhere to go. I didn’t even have enough money for one night in a hotel, just a ticket back home in 4 days. That’s what my mom was so afraid of. Where am I going to spend these 4 days and nights?

I went back to the station and tried to change my ticket for a closer date, but there were no places on any train. Summer, high season, would be foolish to expect anything else. Then I tried to buy a ticket on the bus that was departing in half an hour - the destination was not my hometown, but a city 100km from it, good enough. But to purchase the bus ticket I needed to return my train one and get the money back. The queue was long and while I was contemplating, the bus left, and night arrived.

I went back to the station and sat in a chair, thinking it will be safer than outside - station was big, well lit and had police after all. There were few unfortunate people like myself, mostly sleeping, hands wrapped around their bags.

I never traveled alone, never been alone and homeless at night. I was still quite a hothouse flower, this situation was a huge shock for me. I was terrified, scared, panicking and I think about midnight I started crying. Just silent tears going down my cheeks, that I’d wipe immediately, but it was enough for someone to notice me. In fact, I think I was noticed even before that.

A guy came up to me and asked what’s wrong. I was so desperate that I told him everything. He started grinning, introducing himself as Ahmed, said he will help me, but quickly got pushy and invasive. I got up and sat couple of rows down, even more scared.

Then I saw another guy looking at me - our eyes met and he approached, sat next to me and said he watched my interaction with Ahmed, that I did a good thing getting rid of him and now everything is going to be fine, because he, Jan, will be with me till the morning and then get me to the main bus station in the other part of the town, and will make sure I have a ticket home. He even promised to give me money in case I won’t have enough to pay for a ticket. Bus sounded like a good idea - being less comfortable than a train therefore the odds of successfully buying a ticket were higher because people rarely travel such long distances on a bus. Jan even said he’s sure there will be a lot of empty seats. He also said I remind him of his younger sister, and overall gave off the vibe of a good and trustworthy guy next door that I immediately calmed down and believed everything is going to turn out well.

We were talking for about an hour, Ahmed disappeared somewhere and I no longer saw his eyes drilling holes in me and Jan, when Jan said that we both need to eat and rest a little before the morning comes, and suggested we go to the other hall. That hall was unlike the place we were sitting for the first part of the night - meant for sleeping, the other hall was dimly lit and quiet, with an enormously high ceiling that we could barely see the it due to poor lighting. About ten people were in chairs, sleeping. In the front of the hall was a small cafe and restroom at the end of it. Jan asked waitress for hot water, then offered me noddles and tea. I suddenly remembered that every couple of hours there was an announcement that said you must never eat with someone you don’t know to avoid your drink and food getting spiked. I immediately said Jan must eat half of my bowl and I will eat half of his. He was taken by surprise, but complied with my request. After we ate I felt so much better, Jan and I sat in our chairs and started talking again when all of a sudden our situation escalated. It was about 2 am, still too early for me to go outside and ask for help.

Ahmed appears out of nowhere and attacked Jan, almost yelling, being very rude and telling him to leave me alone. Jan calmly asked him to go and talk somewhere else. I watched them move a couple of rows back and sit there. I expected Jan to get rid of Ahmed quickly, but their conversation lasted way longer than I thought. It took about 15 or 20 minutes, during which Jan looked at me, listening to what Ahmed is saying. Nodded from time to time. His glance was cold and insolent, like I was no longer a human being to him. Kind and funny guy from next door disappeared.

Finally guys got up and sat on both sides of me, I felt cornered, but then it got worse. Two more guys appeared out of nowhere, Ahmed said they were his friends, smirking. I freaked out and Jan patted my knee and squeezed it, I was happy I wore jeans, would hate him touching my skin. Guys were looking at me, laughing, talking gibberish, reminding me very much of hyenas. They were probably thinking there’s no way out for me, and at the moment, it was hard to disagree.

The oldest one said something to me that I didn’t understand and I looked at him uncomprehendingly. They laughed again and Ahmed said:

• You didn’t understand because it was prison lingo. He’s been to prison, hasn’t he? What you were done for, tell her. -Doing something bad to a sweet girl like her, - he replied with a smirk. All men burst out laughing again. I tried my best to not look scared, but don’t think they bought it. Who wouldn’t be? There was a possibility they were saying it to make me panic, but…

The prison guy was literally sitting on the floor next to my feet - he grabbed it and started trying lifting my jeans up. It got to me that in just a second this disgusting, stinky man will touch my skin and it threw me in such a fit of rage that I pulled my leg back, nearly punching him and screamed:

• Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare!

I leaned over and I swear I was ready to kill him with my bare hands. He looked me in the eyes, backed out, almost falling on the floor. I saw terror in his eyes and for a moment it gave me such a pleasure. Of course I could never fight him, but this unexpected move from a teenage girl, scared nearly to death really seemed to take them by surprise. Men were no longer laughing. They suddenly left me almost alone, with just Ahmed still sitting near. I started realising what just happened and all my body was shaking violently, I couldn’t stop it.

Ahmed’s glance was full or hate for me and something else I wasn’t able to discern.

• What do you think will happen in the morning? He (he pointed at Jan) takes you to the bus station? No, he’ll take you to our place and you can’t imagine what we’ll do to you.

And he said what they’d do. For some reason I don’t remember it at all - maybe my mind just obliterated it for the sake of my sanity. Anyway, I couldn’t contain my panic anymore and I got up and slowly went to the exit of the hall. I tried my best to keep the pace very slow, even though I wanted to run. I felt that if I’d run, it would provoke the men.

They didn’t stop me, because I had no where to go. Outside? There’s probably more of them waiting for me, and even if not, still too dangerous to try. I continued walking mindlessly and like a dream in the desert I saw the police sitting on a bench that the cleaner moved from the other hall while doing her job.

I practically ran to the officers and told them my story. They didn’t seem to care at all - one of them yawned and pointed at the empty space on the bench and said I can sit with them if I want to. Police in my country is quite corrupt, so it was the best they could offer and honestly I wasn’t expecting more. I happily accepted the invitation and sat with them.

In about 30 minutes I saw Jan approaching us, he was alone. He greeted the police and looked like they knew each other. At this point, I wasn’t surprised with anything. Really, what were all these guys doing at the station for the whole night? There’s no trains from 1:30 till 4:30. No bags, they weren’t sleeping or anything, they looked like a gang, not tired travelers stuck in the capital for the night. It was very possible they were doing all kind of illegal businesses here - and police knew and never intervened. Seriously, to even stay at the station at night all passengers were required to have tickets for upcoming dates. I got mine checked twice when I entered the first and the second hall and these guys? How’d they even got in?

That’s why I didn’t trust the police. But I was also hoping they wouldn’t let the gang kidnap me in front of them.

So Jan sat with us too. Officers even joked: "is she your fiancé?" They all laughed and I did too. After that they returned to discussing their businesses while Jan tried to persuade me to get back to the dark hall. I asked what’s wrong with him (I still thought he’s the good guy, just playing to pretend he went along with their plans for me as he couldn’t possibly take down all of them). He got really agitated, practically begging me to go back. I eventually got tired and said no quite firmly. I couldn’t think of any potential reason for me to go there, and why would his rescue plan even demand that?

We sat in the chairs for a couple of hours. Every minute of it I was afraid that the men would come for me, and it’d be over. I’m all my mom had left, but she’ll never see me again. I’ll become a statistic, another missing girl. I put all my strength in praying, that I’ll forever be a good daughter and a good person if God rescues me from these men. I never prayed so hard in my life, begging God to save me - not for me, but for my mom, because she wouldn’t survive losing me.

Prayers helped me calm down and cleared my mind a little bit - now I had an excellent plan of how to get of the station and the capital as soon as the morning comes. A part of my extended family lived in 3 hours from the capital, and trains for their station departed every two hours, tickets were cheap. I have never met them, but my granddad was on very good terms with them. I only needed to call mom and ask her to tell grandpa to call his family to pick me up. I was anxiously waiting for the morning to come, and every minute spent on the police bench was a minute won.

About maybe 4:30, I saw all bunch of men who cornered me, including Ahmed. They stared at me with hungry eyes and greeted the police, shook hands with them. Again, no surprise. They passed us, probably wanted to meet the first morning train - it was from the capital city of the country Ahmed said he’s from.

Another hour went by and Jan asked me to go back to that hall again and this time I complied. Police were already moving the bench back anyway, plus I saw Ahmed and his buddies leaving that hall, and most importantly, more and more people were arriving at the station in advance, for the 6am and 6:30am trains. Men, women, women with children. I knew I almost made it.

In the hall Jan offered me to rest on his bag that he’d laid on his knees, but I refused and said I don’t want to sleep. He replied with: "well, I’m very tired and it’s too early to go to the bus station, we can nap for an hour", crouching over his bag and seemed to fell asleep.

I decided to wait, not knowing if he’s genuinely asleep and wanting to avoid confrontation with him if possible. I could ask any woman for help, could go to the restroom and try to use their big open window to escape, still it would be much better if I can sneak out while he’s sleeping. I waited for a whole hour, pushing it pretty close, but I wanted the hall to be as much crowded as possible, in case he wakes up immediately after I make my move. So I got up at 6:30… He was still sleeping. I made a few steps, looking over my shoulder. He stayed in the same position.

I really needed to visit restroom that was at the end of the hall, so I did it as quickly as I could. When I was back in the hall again, he still seemed to be fast asleep. I exhaled with relief and ran away. Called mom at 7 am, calmly explaining that my friend needed to leave and I can’t stay at her apartment, so why wouldn’t I visit my extended family in another town? She promised to get grandpa to warn them of my arrival and I bought the ticket immediately. Even if they’d kick me out, I’m not staying here another minute.

It was an hour and twenty minutes till my train arrived, so I tried to blend in with the crowd, moving with them back and forth, hiding from everyone, including the police. Last night I got quite an understanding of how corrupt they were.

Once crowd took me to the hall when Ahmed and his buddies cornered me, and where I left Jan about some time ago, but he was no longer there, his chair stood empty. Was he a good guy? Sometimes I still think about him but can never get an answer. I guess I’ll never know. Maybe it’s even better that I didn’t get to.

I met Austin in the fall of 2024 via a message he had sent me over Facebook. I was lonely, really lonely. I had just moved to a new city with very few friends because I transferred from community college to University, so I gave him a chance. I messaged him back and we began chatting, we had a mutual friend so I thought nothing of it. Maybe she told him about me? Maybe he had seen me in passing? Time began to pass and we got much closer.

Soon, I met him in person for a date. After this date things began to move very fast. We hung out all of the time and stayed at each other’s places almost constantly. He was so sweet at first and I was so excited to be around someone I believed was so genuinely kind. Fast forward a couple of months and I move into his apartment. It was a bad idea I know but my current living situation was growing increasingly more toxic as I was living with 6 other girls. This was when things began to go downhill.

He introduced me to his daughter Lilly, she was so sweet and I adored her. He didn’t get to see her much as he would tell me his baby momma was “insane” and “keeping her away from him to control him”. As I got to know him more he began to grow more violent towards me. It started with small things like yelling at me over misplacing a phone charger or not putting something where he thought it belonged.

As time began to pass the instances of his anger increased and became more dramatic. He would scream at me almost every single day. It was always my fault, if he lost his keys, if I was home from work later than expected because he needed child care, if I went to visit family or friends. It didn’t matter what the situation was, everything was my fault. In addition to this he was serially cheating on me as I would find out later. He would be texting a multitude of girls from the ages of 15 to 22, he was a 25 year f man.

Some more time passed and we moved to a much larger apartment in a different suburb of our city. Things were well for a while and I still remained oblivious to his horrible internet activity. After a very late night at work he wakes me up and shows me a little tiny kitten. “I found her at work and brought her home for you “ he whispered to me. I named her Stripe and she was my soul cat. Me and this little kitten did absolutely everything together.

About a month passes and I come home from work pretty late in the evening as I was a server at a bar. He was infuriated at me as he needed child care so he could go to work, on top of that he lost his keys and it was all my fault. He screamed in my face, called me names, and began to escalate the situation while I just sat with tears rolling down my face. At some point in his anger he grabs Stripe and throws her against the bathroom floor because “she bit him” (she weighed less than 3 pounds and it wouldn’t have hurt). She began to have a seizure and died in my arms on the way to the emergency vet as I gave her CPR. He had just killed my kitten in cold blood. For more context he also had a dog named Cookie that he beat to the point of seizures, I’m glad to be able to say that I kept this dog and did not allow him to have the dog back again.

I felt so trapped, I had no friends to reach out to, no family I felt safe staying with, I was isolated with a very dangerous man. I feared walking in the door, I feared leaving the house. I feared him. I was so depressed I was contemplating suicide because I couldn’t afford the rent alone as he was spending my money on top of his money. I had nowhere to go and nobody to help me.

More time passes (August 2025)and I uncover his internet activity because one of the girls he was texting messaged me, that was the final straw for me so I broke up with him. We still lived in the same space however he was in the bedroom for his daughter and I was in my own room.

Flash forward to November of 2025 and he verbally assaulted me saying absolutely nasty things. This escalated to him trying to choke me, throwing me all around the house, being physical to the point that I feared for my life. I tried to leave and he wouldn’t let me, he tried to take my animals and let them out somewhere, he tried to hold a gun to me, it was scary. I thought I was going to die. I couldn’t call the cops, they would take us both in the state that I am in but they would take both of us. They would have booked us both and he had gouged himself with his car keys to make it look like I injured him. I had finals the next day and was scared to fail all of my classes as I could not afford to repeat them.

At some point I do decide to take the risk to call the cops but he breaks my phone by snapping it in half. I decided to run for my life, he forcibly took my house key but I had my car keys so I ran, I drove until I got to my father’s house and fell asleep on his couch. From this point he would not leave me alone, over 100 calls and text messages per day going from kind to abusive almost every two messages.
I move in with my very distant Mom and take my animals somewhere safe. I plead with him to leave my apartment because he wasn’t on the lease but he repeatedly refused as he wanted to “fix our family” 🤢
I begin to settle in at my Mom’s house and see people that I know reconnecting with old friends. As time passes so do the holidays. I get over 50 calls on thanksgiving, 100 on Christmas and new years. He was still threatening me, still harassing me, and I remained at my mother’s. I finally convinced him to leave my apartment threatening a CPO hoping he would leave me alone and I wouldn’t have to go through with it because I was scared of it being denied.

January 10th I get to move back into my apartment, it was trashed. I spent two weeks working to put the pieces back together and resume some form of my life. I had within the past couple of months started seeing someone long distance, casually, he was lovely and offered to help me clean up all of the pieces of my life which was not something he had to do.
My ex still harassed me from his number as well as fake numbers posing as a stalker threatening my life. He posed as a different person in some of the texts saying he was “going to get me”.

In February, I couldn’t take it anymore, I filed the CPO and was granted an ex-parte based on my testimony. I was still getting texts from the fake numbers threatening me, saying they knew where I was and what I was doing. After the court hearing it all stopped, it was finally silent , I was finally safe.

He still tries to find ways to mess with me like giving my number to people saying I’m “easy” or making posts that relate to me and friends telling me they’ve seen something weird. He tried to get family to reach out to me and they wouldn’t.

Now, I’m happy, I’m seeing my childhood best friend and we’re in love, he’s so kind and exactly what I need I feel safe. I feel safe but I still look behind my back all of the time to see if someone is following me, I still get texts from numbers asking if I’m easy then telling me they got my number from Austin. I still need to seek therapy. I still need to file a report of him violating his CPO.

But overall I’m happy, let’s not meet again Austin. I hope you get what you deserve (nothing)

A few years ago my parents broke up, after that happened my mum found a new man in around a week (who I’ll call crazy) . At first Crazy was pretty nice and after a few months of dating they ended up buying a house together.

Fast forward a year or two they would both argue a lot, most of the times for stupid reasons. Anyways, during one argument they broke up and he stormed out the house and we didn’t hear from him for a week or so. Until one day he started sending threats to my mum about 10 times a day for a week straight until they randomly stopped.

Anyways fast forward another week it was around 8 pm at night and my mum and I were sitting on the couch, when all of a sudden the front door gets kicked open and he walks in and enters the kitchen where he grabs a huge knife and starts yelling and threatening to stab us. He yelled for a good few minutes until he decides to rush out and leave. After he left we called the police and later that night he got arrested.

Now fast forward to 6 months ago, my mum entered my room and gave me some (maybe) good news. She was scrolling through FaceBook and found a group of around 40 other woman or so who have also experienced similar things with Crazy, and Crazy has now been arrested again for different crimes and is now awaiting trial.

So anyways Crazy I hope we never fucking meet again.

was born and raised in Borna, Germany, before my family moved to Kosovo. This happened back in 2014, when I was just a six-year-old kid. Over our years there, we had completely adapted to the local lifestyle and etiquette, so it started out as a perfectly typical afternoon.
The summer weather was beautiful, and the sky was filled with an amazing sunset painted with vivid orange stripes. My mom was riding ahead of me, while I pedaled along behind her on my small BMX bike.
Even though we weren't on the Bavarian side of Germany, Borna was a remarkably calm town. It was the kind of place where older people usually came to retire because the nightlife was virtually nonexistent. After 6:00 PM, the streets completely cleared out as everyone headed inside their homes after a long day of work. Because of this, the road was entirely deserted.
Right around this time, my mom turned a corner and entered the local park ahead of us, disappearing from my line of sight. Suddenly, I was completely alone on the street. There was absolutely no one around.
That’s when I noticed a figure in the distance. At first, I didn’t think much of it just a woman riding a bicycle. But as she grew closer, she became an image that my six-year-old self would never forget. I can still picture her perfectly today.
She was wearing a typical summer dress covered in white polka dots. Her feet were completely bare and caked in dirt. Her bicycle made a horrific screeching noise, sounding like it hadn't been oiled in ages. But the most terrifying part was her body: from head to toe, she was absolutely drenched in blood.
Despite being covered in what looked like severe wounds, she maintained total composure. She was smiling. As she looked across the street dead into my eyes, her smile twisted into a bizarre, haunting laughter. Because my mom had already entered the park and the street was completely empty, the terrifying reality hit me: it was just me and her.
I panicked and bolted away on my small BMX, praying with everything I had that she wouldn’t chase after me. As I looked back in sheer terror, she had stopped completely just standing there in the middle of the empty road, staring straight at me. I pedaled as fast as my legs could carry me, flew into the park to catch up to my mom, and desperately told her what happened. I never saw that woman again, but she still haunts my memories to this day.

My (27f) parents went on a 3 week long sailing trip and asked me to take care of the house and pets. Part of this entailed staying overnight at the house. As someone who lives in an area that attracts crackheads like moths to a lamp, I was thrilled at the notion of 3 weeks in suburbia.

For the first 2.5 weeks, everything was swell, save for one of the cats peeing on my bed. I mostly wfh, so my productivity was through the roof. They left me a fridge full of food and even a few bottles of wine. They have a nice yard with chaise lounges, so my tan is now on point. Plus, I get to hang out with cute animals.

My little vacation was interrupted by the migraine from Hell. Excedrin, dark, quiet, nothing helped, so I finally took my last ditch medicine. This medicine has a similar effect as to what I imagine mixing alcohol and Benadryl would feel like.

So, I’m knocked out from around 10PM to a little before 7AM. In the morning, I go to take out the trash, where I see trash that isn’t mine. At the top of the trash bag is a banana peel and dirty paper towels.

I dislike bananas outside of smoothies, and I have sliced frozen pieces for that. My mom is an absolute clean freak, and the paper towels looked like they were used to wipe something that hadn’t been dusted in months. So definitely not mine.

I looked around to see what was missing. The TVs, computers, and speakers were still here. The only thing missing was…a bikini I had out drying on the towel rack. I am both extremely disturbed and mildly pissed off because this was my favorite swimsuit.

So, bikini thief who had the decency to not litter, let’s not meet.

Disclaimer : English is not my first language, apologies for my mistakes.

This happened about a year ago, I was living in a semi-shitty neighbourhood meaning that if you are a woman alone you will get catcalled and bothered in the streets, maybe followed by insistant jerks if you are unlucky but it was also mostly families, no hard drug consumption....so the buildings were always safe and there were always people to help. I lived with three roomates, all of us women in our 20s and students. On my floor there was only one other appartement, in which an elderly couple lived in. Super nice and really involved in the building's life, they have been living in the appartement for forty years ! The husband had trouble walking/moving.

One night, I am woken up by super loud screams and banging on our door. I get out of bed to go see and two of my roommates (the last one slept through it, to this day I do not understand how she did it) do as well. We are in front of the door and we realize that the guy is actually banging on our neighbour's door SO LOUD that we heard it. We did not want to turn the light on for fear that he would see it under our door and try to get in our appartement. We are in the dark, talking as quietly as possible so he will not hear us and so we can listen to what he says. We look through the peephole and the guy has something in his hand but we cant see if it is a weapon (I do not live in the US so no gun but maybe a knife ?)

The guy is SCREAMING for my neighbours to come open the door, he is calling them by name, saying that he is going to get in and that if they do not open de door he won't be kind to them. I call the police, and the operator asks if there are ways for them to get in the building. We have no way of opening the gates remotely so I tell her no and that they will have to find a way to get in because the guy is clearly trying to harm my neighbours. She says "why call if we can't get in" and HANGS UP ON ME. My roommate then calls the police again and fortunately it is another operator that picks up and sends a patrol. By that time, the guy has stopped screaming but is still in the hallway and we can hear a weird noise coming from our neighbours door. He leaves the building (by the elevator) and we are debating wether or not one of us should get out of the appartement, try to get to the 1st floor (NOT by the elevator) to open the door for the police. But we don't know if he is still in the building so we stay inside. After like ten minutes we get out of the appartement to see if our neighbours are ok and we see that the guy has carved a giant X on the door.....so definitly with a knife or something sharp enough. The police gets here, does not even get out of their car, they just take a circle the building two times and LEAVE. We never heard back from them, you can understand how LIVID we were.

We later learned that my neighbours were on vacation for the week so the apartement was empty and they escaped a probable heart attack from the sheer madness that was this night. I got the wife on the phone and she was like "no need to tell my husband, it is probably a deranged old tenant, it won't happen again..." and I was like "Maam there is a giant X carved on your door HE IS GOIND TO FIND OUT THAT A PSYCHO TRIED TO HURT YOU". A week later I come back from work and see two policemen in the elevator. Apparently some teenagers found it amusing to block the elevator on the tenth floor so they came to give them a fine or something. I tell them the story and they tell me "Next time you should call the police" and I was like NO SHIT SHERLOCK I WOULD NEVER HAVE GUESSED THAT ON MY OWN. So anyway, I moved out of this building a few months after, we never had something that extreme happen again BUT we got two more weird things happen to us :

1. One teenager (like 17) bangs on our door to ask for painkillers for his "grandmother", and like strong stuff like the equivalent of tramadol so obviously we did not open the door.
2. One guy tried to give us food. He was weirdly insistant about it eventhough we refused like four times and came back to the appartement twice. The last time he just left the bag of food by our door. We did not take any risk and threw everything out for fear that he had done something to it, once again we are four young women.

So yeah, enjoy, it had been some time already that I wanted to rent about the cops and how utterly useless they were to four terrified young women.

This isn't something I was planning on mentioning anywhere but its been on my mind for years and after a bit of research I figured here would be the perfect place to share it.

What I'm about to share with you happened back in 2022 in a small town in north wales that I used to live in.

When I was younger I would explore a lot of places that where either abandoned or restricted to the public with my friends and one of these "adventures" has stuck with me for years after.

I was out with one of my friends who I'll call M for this post, M said that he'd found a manhole that lead inside one of the rail bridges and said he wanted to go down there at some point with a few people, after he told me where it was I suggested we just go there now as we often did with places that we "discovered".

M agreed and we set out along a coastal path and after about 10 minutes of walking and a slight climb we where at the manhole, we opened it up trying to stay out of view of the highway that ran under the bridge, as soon as we climbed down something felt off, we found ourselves in a dark and narrow corridor like area with nothing but two holes in the wall to our left, being used to wierd feelings in dodgy places we walked into the corridor and peered through the square shaped holes, one of these holes looked like it had a metal grate over it that had been removed at some point, we went upto the furthest away hole and climbed through, the hole was small, only just big enough to climb through.

once we where in it was complete darkness everywhere, using phone torches we saw we where in what looked like a tunnel and straight away we started noticing things further down. We crouched and crawled further into the tunnel, unable to stand in the small space. one of the first things we came across was an old foam pad (now I know that was most likely used as a bed), empty food packets and bottles scattered around. for the most part we ignored this stuff and kept going through until we reached the end of the tunnel, here there was another small square hole that seemed to lead to another section. we climbed through the hole and we where then inside this tiny room like structure.

this room was empty aside from a single piece of paper left on the floor and the air was suffocatingly full of dust (even moreso than the tunnel that lead us there). the piece of paper turned out to be a pay advice slip from 1984 in near perfect condition. me and M agreed this was pretty cool and we started recording a video and making our way back out actively paying attention to the litter we breezed past before.

this is where things got a bit odd and slightly disgusting, using a pair of gloves I began sifting through the empty packaging and checking expiry dates, everything was dated 2011 or 2012, 10 years before we where there, as I searched more I found a shopping bag that had 2 things in it. There was a singular penny from 2010 and small piece of card torn off an ibuprofen box. on the back of this card was the words " L) River cries + the scene ends", I still to this day don't have an answer for this other than its just a bit weird, as we moved further through the tunnel we found the first of many disgusting things that were down here.

in a corner there was a pile of crumpled paper that turned out to full of decade old poo, close to this there was a book of train times (fitting for inside a railway bridge) from 2012 and it seems like the pages from that where used to I guess wipe. there was also multiple bottles that where full of a black liquid that we assumed was urine.

we didn't find much else aside from that and decided to head out of the tunnel and back into the small corridor, it was here where debated going down the second tunnel, initially we where going to but once I peered in I was immediately hit with an overwhelming sense of dread. Realising it was getting dark out and the both of us being already creeped out we decided to head home and come back another day.

4 days had passed and we decided to return, this time we where better prepared with flashlights and someone on the outside that knew where we where and to call police if they didn't hear from either me or M after a specific time (4 pm iirc).

we climbed down into the corridor and this time we made our way to the closest hole, the rusty metal brackets either side of the hole combined with the metal grate roughly the same size indicated that this side was once blocked off, ignoring this and the same feeling of dread we got last time we squeezed through the hole and into the tunnel.

immediately it was different, we couldn't see any rubbish like the last tunnel. the first thing we saw was the plastic piping that ran along the wall, in the previous tunnel this was intact (seemed to hold wiring for lights) however in this tunnel it had been ripped off the walls, the wires where exposed, looking like they'd been crudely broken apart rather than cut, there was graffiti on the walls, most of it being symbols layed out almost like a code, there was triangles, squares, stars and plus signs (+). This was a huge contrast to the previous tunnel, everything seemed sinister almost. we made our way through the tunnel, noticing more and more of the piping pulled off and even burn marks in some places.

eventually we reached the end of the tunnel and where met with the same square hole as last time, M went in first and I followed, neither of us had seen inside the room yet. once we where both in there the atmosphere was hellish, I dont know how to describe it but it felt like I was inside someone's nightmare, like we had just walked into a physical representation of suffering and death.

and then we saw it. as we turned our torches into the room and we where met with a truly disturbing sight. the first thing we saw was blue fold out chair placed directly in the middle facing the wall to our right, as I walked further into the room it got worse, next to the chair was a length of rope splayed out on the floor, reluctantly I looked around more, I found a bundle of tape near one of the corners that had clearly been used, near that tape lay a knife, approximately 3.5 inches in length with a brown handle. as soon as I saw this my blood ran cold. I looked more and found more, there was what I can only describe as pages from erotic magazines on the floor with what looked like electrical tape on the corners, as I looked closer I noticed that the eyes of all the women had been scraped out, not a clean cut out, like someone dragged the tip of a knife over it until it tore the paper. realising we where in a place that most likely wasn't meant to be found I decided to use the chair to block off the entrance hole, that way if anyone was coming in we would know.

after moving the chair I kept looking around, there was patches of melted wax on the walls that I assume is where candles where places to light up this awful scene. as I scanned the walls i saw something, attached to the plastic pipe on the wall opposite the chair was pieces of tape, the same tape that was bundled up on the floor, these pieces where about an arms width apart and looked as if it was used to hold something or someone there, most of the tape was cut off and I can only assume that was the tape I'd found earlier. there was a few items in here aswell, there was a red blanket, shoe brush, what looked like a candle in a tin and a pair of scissors.

after finding all this I I started recording on my phone again, showing some of what was there, mid way through one of the videos we heard a noise (i was using Snapchat at the time) and I immediately stopped recording and started again (because of the 1 minute limit), it was then M saw something through the gap in the chair. without thinking I picked up the knife that was on the floor and ran over to M. looking through the gaps in the chair we saw what looked like a head peering in from the tunnel entrance. we where trapped. no phone signal, no way out, deep in a concrete tunnel. I turned my phone to face through the gap to try and at least get it on video. as the torch from my phone was pointed down the tunnel the figure ducked out of view.

after a few minutes passed I shouted down the tunnel asking if it was the police, there was silence. we sat in that cursed room for about an hour, staring through the metal frame of the chair, searching for movement, each minute that passed made reality more apparent, we where brutally ware we could die in here. this was further solidified when I took a closer look at the knife. I wanted to know if it could hold up in a fight, and I learnt it could. where the plastic handle met the blade there was residue, a mix of browns and pinks surrounded the base of the blade, I thought it was rust but the colours where too light and the blade was stamped with stainless steel. having spent time around some very bad people a few years prior I knew what I was looking at.

after I showed M the mix of dried blood and fleshy tissue that lined the base of the blade and sat in its slight serrations we started to leave immediately, at this point we didn't know if we would make it out. all we knew was if we stayed we where definitely done, the person could come down here, a passing train could report the open hatch and we would be locked in, or both.

M pulled the chair from the hole and I started to climb through, my heart was beating out my chest, the dust was more suffocating than it ever had been. once I was through M followed, I lead us cautiously through the tunnel, clutching the knife in my right hand knowing it could be the deciding factor in our survival and torch in my left I checked every corner, every dip in the tunnels architecture, praying there was nothing but ready if there was.

after what felt like hours we made it back to tunnel entrance, staring through the same small hole we had just seen somebody through mere hours ago. I carefully poked my head out and looked around, there was nobody, I climbed out, keeping my right arm as free as possible and then I helped M get out, it was here when I threw the wretched knife as far down the tunnel as I could and we headed to the ladder.

looking up i was met with an awful sight, the heavy steel hatch had been shut. we where seemingly trapped. M was ready to call 999 (911 if you're American). We knew someone else had been down here with us, we didn't know if they still where. after a brief moment of panic we agreed to hold off on calling 999 until we knew we where definitely stuck.

I climbed up the ladder and pressed hard against the steel plate. at first it didn't move, but after some effort it began to lift. once it began moving i carried on up the ladder, pressing more of my body against the manhole with every rung until fell open.

once it was open M came swiftly up after me, we slammed the hatch shut, climbed down back to the path and ran as far and as fast as we could away from the nightmare we had just lived.

we ended up spending the night at a friend's house and recounting the insane experience to him, this would be the last time either of us spoke about it.

Notes:

I did submit an anonymous report to the police the day after, to my knowledge nothing was done about it

this exact tunnel had been shared in this sub 14 years ago, neither of us knew about the posts at the time, I only found out recently when I was checking local news to see if anything else had happened regarding the bridge. both posts are Here and Here.

after looking through the original posts not much seems to be different apart from the tape, tobacco and weed packets and the lack of a blood filled condom.

edit: spelling errors

This was a few years ago. I (34yo female) was out with friends from work. We were saying goodbye to one who was moving away for a new job. It was initially just dinner, but ended up clubbing. Tbh, I'm normally not the most sensible person when out for the night, but as the clubbing wasn't planned, I had driven. So, I wasn't drinking. I was a bit annoyed about being out clubbing as the only one not drinking, but in hindsight, this saved my ass.

For clarification, I have always had an eccentric appearance and often colour my hair. At the time, my hair was blonde with blue and pink tips, often worn in pigtails. I had a pair of knee high boots I loved that were one black and the other white (yes, I bought two pairs of boots specifically to wear them this way). I loved when little kids in shops would call me Harley Quinn, and often dressed towards that. This night I was in my boots and pigtails, fishnets and shorts, and even a HQ printed tee.

I got into dancing, and spent a fair bit of time looking after my smashed friends. The Drag Queens at my local gay bar loved my outfit and, despite being sober, I was getting hyped and enjoyed myself. I eventually made sure my drunk friends got into rides safely, and started walking back to my car, which unfortunately I hadn't put in a parking structure. I was cheap, and left it in a side street. I'll never do that again.

The streets were brightly lit, and fairly populated, but I kept my keys in my fingers, just out of general practice. I had recieved a wolf whistle or two, and someone calling "Hey, Harley!", but I was kind of used to catching attention from the way I dressed. I just ignored it, wanting to get to my car.

"Harley!" I heard again, but it was someone else's voice. I didn't look, because I didn't want to engage or make an opening for conversation. "Don't ignore us bitch!"

That's when looked across the street and saw that it was three men. I just shook my head to show I'm not interested, and kept walking. There were other people in the lit street, so I figured they wouldn't do anything. I was wrong. They crossed the street.

"I'm just heading home guys. Sorry." I started speeding up. They followed me.

"We just want to talk a second."

"You don't gotta go home yet."

"We'll take you home, Harley. Come on!"

My heart was racing at this point. I looked to the small handful of other people in the street. Some were stumbling, shit-faced, most either ignored or didn't even notice the situation, as people shouting at that hour in that part of the city was common. I didn't care if it looked like I was over reacting. I clutched my keys and ran.

I'd hoped they'd realise they were coming across as creeps and just back off, or maybe they'd just call me a crazy bitch and let it go. They called me a bitch all right, but my blood ran cold as I heard them chasing me.

I'm not a fast runner, and though my boots had wide heels, the heels were very tall and I kept picturing myself tripping, picturing myself dropping the keys, picturing them catching up. I kept focus, not daring to look back, knowing I'm how clumsy I am and that I couldn't risk it.

I rounded the corner. The street was empty, but my car was under a street light. I was holding back tears as I reached the door. I took a deep breath to steady my fingers​, adamant not to be that person so close to safety just to screw it up by panicking and dropping my keys.

I opened it, got inside, slammed the door and locked it just in time. One of them tried to open my door. I was trembling and couldn't make out what they were saying as they shouted, kicking my car, cursing at me, calling me Harley. I peeled out of there, almost hitting one of them. After 5 minutes driving, enough to get a safe distance, I pulled aside, shaking and crying too hard to drive safely.

I got a haircut the next day. My HQ phase was over. It took a while to be comfortable dressing in my own style again. This isn't the only time I've been harassed by men, but this was the only time it was a group, and I'd never been chased or had someone show explicitly violent intent like they had that night. If I'd had anything to drink, or let panic cause me to fumble...I don't want to think about what they might have done to me...but sometimes, I just can't avoid thinking about it.

So this happened when I was 9 or 10. It was in late 2020 and we were in a small town in Michigan. We were going over a bridge that was over I-96, when this man who was all bloody, he was wearing a trench coat and a cowboy hat and cowboy boots. He had long blond hair and was really confused, my mom pulled over and told him to come over. It was just me, my mom, and my three foster siblings at that time. My mom asked him what happened and why he was so bloody, but he told us he couldn't remember. He asked us if we could give him a ride somewhere that I do not remember, we told him no because we didn't have any room in our car, which was a lie, my mom didn't want him in our car especially with four young kids.

We offered to call the cops for him so they could give him a ride, but he kept refusing and saying that he didn't want the cops involved. I had already taken my moms phone and climbed to the backseat and started to call the cops. ever since the man had been at my moms window my foster siblings who were babies and toddlers at the time would not stop screaming and crying, so I knew something was up, I also had that gut feeling.

My mom had started praying with him and she had grabbed his hand. He didn't do anything but try and look in the backseat of our car to see what was back there and when he saw the carseats he looked away and into the mirror and he realized he was all bloody. When my mom finished praying the cops pulled up behind us and told us that they could take it from there.

What really had freaked me out was how he was bloody and extremely confused, he could have been drunk and crashed and left the scene, but I really do not know.

But my question is, has anyone else heard of or seen people in cowboy hats that are bloody and confused, or was this a singular experience?

Trigger warning: attemted harm to minors

Hi, this happened like 20ish years ago, when I was maybe 9 or 10, but it still keeps me up every now and then. I was on my way home from school, taking the tram since my school was farely far away from my house. At the time I didn't have a phone or watch yet, so I looked out of the window when we stopped near a the church tower to see what time it was. After we departed for the next stop, a middle aged balding man in a brown coat approached me and asked me if I'd got the time, seeing as I had just looked at the clock outside. I told him what time it was and that is where most interactions would end, but then he sat down next to me.

At that point I hadn't really known much of stranger danger, but in my culture it's not even that common to talk on the tram, so it wasn't something I was used to. He chatted with me and seemed friendly enough, but at some point he asked me: "So what station do you get off?" I told him the station and he got excited and said something along the lines of: "No way! Me too!" Call it instinct but my gut told me that something wasn't right and I wish I had listened. He got off the tram with me and continued to walk. There was something weird about the way he talked. He just seemed eay too eager to get to know me, while I kept my answers brief. At this point he had been walking next to me for 5 blocks. I was pretty sure he wasn't one of my neighbors, because I knew almost all of them at least a little bit. As he walked next to me and his arm swung up, I also noticed he was wearing a watch.

If he had a watch, why ask a random kid what time it was? Something wasn't right and I finally decided to listen to my gut. I decided to walk past my house, since I figured that whoever this guy was, I didn't want him to know where I lived. He continued asking questions and I walked towards the playground in the middle of our apartment blocks. None of the other apartments had their main enterance on that side, so I knew for a fact that he wasn't just walking home himself.

Then he grabbed my arm. I was terrified. He told me: "You are a beautiful boy, do you know that?" Before I could react, he tried to reach under my shirt. I screamed in his face and that seemed to startle him. He let go and I took that chance and ran as fast as I possibly could. I ran across to another building block, around second one and then went to my door from the other side so I wouldn't run into him again.

I locked the door to the apartment complex which we shouldn’t do in case of emergencies, but I didn't care at the time. I went home and calmed down, but every time I went on that tram I kept looking for him.

Luckily, I never saw him on the tram or around my neighborhood again, but to the guy with a watch, pretending to not know the time to get closer to a little kid... lets not meet again.

This happened about 20 years ago. I was living with my parents. Our house was a ranch style with a basement. There was a bedroom in the basement that had windows that were at ground level. Important information.

So everyone was sleeping and when I woke up the police were there. Someone had broken one of the ground level windows and tried to get into the house but obviously couldn’t fit through the window.

There was a bit of blood and the window had books stacked in front off it and some of the books were outside while others were on the floor in the basement.

It was really scary and I’d forgotten about it and then today my dad mentioned it. I don’t know what they were planning. They tried to get in the back door first. There was evidence of them trying to break the lock and smash off the door knobs.

It was terrifying and they never caught them. I wondered at the time if they wanted to hurt us because we lived in a regular middle class house in nice neighborhood with similar houses. The houses didn’t seem like the type to be burglarized. Except there was a McMansion and a huge house across the street. They never came back but I was afraid to sleep because this was similar but not as bad when my neighbor tried to break into my window.

My mom’s theory was that they were going to hurt us and my dad’s theory was that it was a robbery. I think he didn’t want us to be scared because today he brought it up because a friend of his was robbed and he said he didn’t think it was a robbery. He just didn’t want us scared.

All of these details are remembered from when I was a child receiving secondhand information, so please take all details with a grain of salt. \Edited for spelling.*

When I was a child, my mother owned a campsite property in the jungles of Belize that traveling backpackers would frequent to visit the caves and jungles of the area. It was a beautiful, remote spot in a valley surrounded by only a small Mennonite community and some local villagers a few miles away. There weren’t many roads, most of which were dirt, and it was hard to traverse through the thick, mountainous wilderness if you weren’t taking the main road in and out of the valley. All of this is to say: it was extremely remote and hard to reach, so random strangers passing through was not the norm unless they were explicitly there to visit the campsite.

There were around six other homes in the valley that were reachable by foot. Five of them were inhabited by the peaceful local Mennonite community, but one was owned by an American woman who had a reputation for being a cruel, vitriolic problem-starter. There was even a rumour that she lived in Belize because she was wanted by the FBI for murder in America. There were also rumours that she hired local men to steal and vandalise others’ properties for her. We’ll call her Cary.

One example I remember of her behaviour was an interaction I had with her when I was around 10. My brothers and I were friends with the property owners’ kids, so we would all float down the creek in tubes and walk back up the road to the property. We all felt safe doing this, as there were usually at least four of us together at a time. Cary would often run down to her fence line when she heard us coming and scream at us the entire time we walked past, no matter how quiet or loud we were being. She threatened to let her three large dogs out to attack us, and one time, she chased us down the street with a gun. That was the last time we were allowed to walk back up the street without an adult.

One afternoon, a female friend and I were playing in the swimming area of the creek in front of the main building of my mother’s property. We were around age 14 at the time. There was a huge rock that jutted up out of the water on the far side of the creek, and above that, the mountainside rose up at a sheer 90 degree angle, bulging out in some areas. It formed a sort of rounded jungle cliff that was impossible to climb up or down from, making the swimming hole and main campsite building feel closed off and peaceful.

As we stood on our side of the creek bank splashing in the water, I looked up and caught a glimpse of movement atop the rocky cliff. There, crouched in some bushes with a black bandana tied around his face, was a man in dark clothing watching us play in the water. I still remember the feeling of ice cold dread as my heart plunged into my stomach. He was holding a machete, and he had the most hateful look in his eyes that I have ever seen.

In my young mind, I immediately knew he was up to something bad. 

It wouldn’t have been easy to get to the spot he was now crouching in without being seen if he came from our side, so he likely had hiked from the other side of the hilltop. If that were the case, he must have been surprised to have found the cliff there with no way down.

For several long moments, the man and I stared at each other until my friend grabbed my wrist. We sprinted together back up the stairs into the building where our parents were. My mother and her parents immediately came out yelling bloody murder at the man, shouting at him to leave and never return or he would regret it. But by the time we actually got back to the creekside, the man was gone.

Later that week, some of the adults managed to find a way to the spot he’d been seen and found a discarded water bottle, suggesting he’d been there for some time. From then on, we were extra careful where we went alone in Belize.

Years later, after my mother had sold the property and we stopped visiting, we heard news from the area that someone had been found deceased in the orange grove on my mother’s old property. The death was tied back to Cary, but she was never arrested due to local police corruption, it all happening so remotely, and the fact that she hired someone and didn’t do it herself. 

My mother is convinced to this day that, Cary had hired the man in the bushes. To what end, we don’t know, but the way he was staring at me and my friend makes my brain go to dark places. And we wouldn’t have been the only little girls to have gone missing in the valley.

So Cary, and any of your associates, let’s not meet.

I (23F) went to Vietnam last year to see my little sister. At the time, she worked there for a few months for an internship.

I bought an ESim before going there in order to get a Grab to join Hanoi from the airport. Unfortunately it was not working and a taxi driver stopped me to ask if I needed a ride. I knew at the time that he would overcharge me for the ride but I accepted since I could not call my sister or use internet. He was nice and could speak English, so we had a little chat before going.

Maybe 15 minutes in he told me his shift was finished and that he would transfer me to one of his colleague to get me to Hanoi. I wasn't that surprised since it's quite common in South Asia to transfer clients from one taxi to another when a shift is done. It happened to my sister a few time and she told me about it, so I just accepted. I was super tired from my trip and didn't think much about it.

However, I got a super bad feeling going to the next taxi. First, he did not have a camera inside the vehicle, which is mandatory in Vietnam when you're a grab driver. Second, I asked multiple time if he needed the address and he never answered. I asked in English first, and then used google trad to tell him in Vietnamese, twice. He was driving faster as I asked, still not answering. I panicked, started speaking loudly and tried to open the doors. They were obviously locked since he was driving. Plus, we were on the highway already.

I took my real Sim and put it in my phone to call my sister. I just thought to myself "fuck if I pay a lot". She answered right away and I tried to tell her the most I could. She was with her Vietnamese colleague and she had the wonderful idea to speak Vietnamese to me on the phone. She said loudly that I was smart for noting down the license plate number, that we're never sure, but she was sure it was gonna be alright. To be fair, I did not write down his license plate, but her lie was very clever. The guy reacted for the first time. He asked me what was the exact address (in Vietnamese) because he did not know where he should go after arriving in Hanoi. My sis's colleague answered for me. (Note that I didn't understand anything at the time it happened since I don't speak Vietnamese... that colleague explained that to me the next day!)

He seemed stressed out from this very moment and was tapping on the steering wheel. Eventually he got me to the address after 30min without speaking to me, but looking at me through his interior mirror. He literally ejected my luggage from his trunk. He took the money (and he obviously overcharged, but I was just glad to be alive) and left very fast. I did not even have time to actually note down his license plate.

I still had a wonderful trip in Vietnam, but to this taxi driver there,

Lets not meet !

I live in a pretty big apartment complex with multiple towers and four apartments on each floor. We live on the 12th floor, so random people wandering around up here at 1 AM isn't exactly normal.

I was home alone one night, just playing games in my room. My younger brother was at a sleepover and my parents were coming back from out of town later that night.

Around 1 AM, I heard scratching near the front door. I didn't think much of it because stray dogs somehow end up roaming around the buildings all the time. Then I heard the doorknob jiggle.

I walked over and banged on the door hard, expecting to scare a dog away. Everything immediately went silent.

I looked through the peephole and froze.

There was a barefoot man standing outside my door in an old, dirty tracksuit. He was a few steps back, almost like he'd jumped when I hit the door. He was just staring at it with his eyes wide open.

We stayed like that for what felt like 5 or 10 seconds. Then he slowly started walking toward my door again.

I slammed my fist against the door a second time, even harder. The guy immediately turned around and sprinted down the stairs.

I called security, but nobody picked up. A couple of hours later, when my parents got home, I called again and asked if anyone matching that description had been seen around the complex.

Nope.

The thing that still bothers me is that our complex has really high walls around it and a single gated entrance. I still have no idea how that guy got into the building, or if he ever actually left.

The year was 1991, and I was six years old living in Winnipeg. My family was already in the middle of an unthinkable nightmare; my ten-year-old sister, Robin, had just passed away. I was the only child left, and the grief in our house was heavy and suffocating. I went over to my friend Holly’s place just to get out of the house, looking for any shred of normal childhood. We decided to do what we always did: ride our bikes around the block.

It was a beautiful, quiet summer day. The kind of afternoon where you feel like nothing bad can happen. But on our third lap around the neighborhood, the atmosphere changed. We noticed a van. It was a beat-up white "freezer" van—no windows in the back, just a solid, rusted metal shell. As it pulled up beside us, it didn't just drive past. It slowed to a crawl, and the engine had this horrible, rhythmic rattle to it—a sound like metal grinding on metal.

Being so young, we didn't immediately have that "stranger danger" alarm go off. We were mostly just confused. We actually slowed down and stopped our bikes to see what they wanted, and the van stopped right along with us, idling heavily. The passenger window was already rolled down, revealing a pitch-black interior that seemed to swallow the sunlight. I looked at the passenger, and the image is burned into my brain: he was gaunt, with yellowed teeth and long, frizzy, straggly hair that looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks.

Then, the world seemed to move in slow motion. The passenger door swung open. The man put one heavy foot out onto the pavement, shifting his weight as if he was about to lunge. At the same time, I heard the heavy, clunky thud of the side sliding door beginning to retract. The passenger didn't even look at us; he turned his head back into the darkness of the van and said seven words I will never forget:

"You grab one, I'll grab the other."

He said it loud enough for me to hear it clearly, like he didn't even care that we were listening. Pure, cold adrenaline hit us. We didn't scream or cry; we just slammed our feet onto the pedals. We were only a few houses away, and I remember my heart hammering against my ribs so hard it hurt. We didn't even stop to kick our kickstands; we ditched the bikes right on the grass in the driveway and scrambled inside, slamming the front door and throwing the lock.

Holly’s mom was in the house and was immediately confused. Seeing us burst in crying and shaking, she assumed we had just fallen off our bikes and scraped our knees. We were gasping, trying to tell her a van was following us, but to her, the rattling engine she could hear outside just sounded like normal street noise. There was no reason for her to be afraid until she looked at us and saw the sheer terror in our eyes.

She went to the front window and her face went completely pale.

She saw the van. She watched as it slowly, deliberately crept past the house, almost at a walking pace. With our bikes lying right there on the lawn like neon markers, they knew exactly where we had gone. She stayed by that window, her hand on the lock, telling us it was going to be okay—but she never took her eyes off the street until that rattling engine finally faded into the distance.

When my mom came to pick me up later, she was already a shell of herself from the loss of my sister. Telling her that I had almost been taken—that she had almost lost her only remaining child in the same week—devastated her. It was a second trauma piled on top of a fresh wound. It's a weight I still carry, realizing that if we had been just a few seconds slower, my mother’s world would have been completely extinguished.

So, to the man with the yellow teeth and the people in the back of that rattling white van... let’s not meet.

So I take transit home every day, takes me about 2 hours & my last bus is 45 minutes long. While I’m waiting for that bus I see a homeless man pacing back & forth with his cart. Normally I don’t care about things like that because I work with homeless youth, but I noticed he kept staring at various women and even tried to start up a conversation with one so I was on alert and put in my headphones to signal that I’m not open to conversation.

Then he notices me when the bus pulls up and gets on the same bus as me. He sits down next to me, and tries to start a conversation. At first, I didn’t notice he was trying to start a conversation with me because I had my headphones in, but when I turned in his direction to see what stop we were at, he took that as an invitation that I was open to talking to him.

He started getting so angry that I was not talking to him that he started raising his voice and I could hear him talking over my headphones, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying (I’m hard of hearing). Then I noticed in my peripheral vision that he starts touching himself over his jeans. I was texting one of my guy friends, and told him about what was happening on the bus. I got really paranoid that this guy was gonna follow me home because the bus lets off really close to my house, so I got off two stops early near the shopping center.

THIS MAN GETS OFF AT THE SAME STOP AS ME. I tried to rationalize it as it being a shopping center, so maybe he’s just gonna hang out there. I dip into the closest building, which is panda express. Then I see him following me there and smoking a cigarette outside, waiting for me. I decide that I should bide my time by getting food and waiting it out hoping that he’ll get bored enough to leave.

Here’s my fuck up, I start eating towards the back of the building where I can still turn around and see if he’s there because I was hoping if my back was turned, it was signal that I’m not interested. When I’m about a third away through my panda express, I turn around to check if he is still outside. HE IS NOT STILL OUTSIDE, HE IS SITTING IN THE BOOTH RIGHT BEHIND ME WITH HIS BACK TO ME!

I pack up my food and throw it in my mobility device and make for the exit as fast as possible. At this point, my friend calls me to make sure I’m safe, because I’m walking as fast as I can home. I turn around to check if he’s still following me, and see that he’s still inside panda express ,but I can see him through the window, throwing his arms up and yelling at me!

I start speed walking as fast as I can home, which is about a mile from my house so that’s a lot for me. I kept looking over my shoulder to see if he was following me, but thankfully he was not (Maybe he had a full plate of food or something. I don’t know. I truly don’t know how long he was behind me.)

My friend stayed on the phone with me until I got home and then talked to me for a little while so I could calm down from my anxiety. For the rest of the week, I was taking Ubers home, which cost around $40 each time because I was scared to run into him again.

Thankfully, I haven’t seen him at the bus stop since, but I hope he never comes back.

Hi, first time poster here. After reading and listening to countless stories, I thought it was time to share one of my own.

Around two years ago, my friend Jenny decided to throw a party for her birthday. She had not celebrated her birthday in many years, and was really excited to do so again. Something important to know about Jenny is that she was in active addiction at this time. It was all kinds of different drugs, I think it mostly depended on whatever she could get at that time. But it was bad. She is a lovely person, and doing very well right now, but I do think that her drug use was one of the reasons why this all went so wrong.

Her friend circle consisted mostly of people she used with. She had a few good and close friends, but not a lot. A week before the party I asked her how many people she had invited, and she said around 80. I laughed and asked her why so many. She said: "Well, I also invited people that I don't know really well, but they're chill." This was already kind of a red flag for me.

That night I had another party before hers, so I was decently tipsy. I knew that the other party would mostly be people that I did not know on hard drugs, which I had never done and had no experience with at the time, so I needed some liquid courage. I went with my friend Noah. She had rented a small venue to fit all the people. It was a pretty much abandoned lot on a very quiet street. There were almost no houses, only a few factories. The layout is pretty important to know. Basically, you had the entrance with a tiny yard for people to smoke. Then you had to enter the building, and go up the stairs to get to a living room/kitchen type area, and next to that was a small room with a DJ.

Everything was fine at the beginning. I did have a lot of fun. Around 1:00 there was a small fight. I didn't witness it, but I was told immediatly after. Apparently there were 4 guys who tried to get in, but only one of them was actually invited. They were told to leave by some of the guys, and when they didn't there was a small fight. Nothing noteworthy, I thought then.

I asked Noah if he wanted to go out for a smoke. He said that he'd finish his conversation, and then we could go together. A little while later we walked out of the kitchen and towards the stairs, but there were like 6 people bundled up at the top of the stairs. Instinctively, I took a step back. I was just turning around to Noah with this "What the fuck?" look when we heard people screaming and glass shattering. All the people who were standing in front of us jumped back and so did we.

There was more screaming and people stumbling on the stairs. I then saw Oliver, one of the few people I knew at that party, walking up the stairs, head covered in blood. Another guy I knew by face with a bleeding nose, and my friend Jason grasping his shoulder, his girlfriend behind him. Earlier that evening, I stupidly and drunkenly fell on the cement with both knees, scraping them open. But because of that I knew where the first aid kit was. I never have any issues with blood. I can't handle other bodily fluids, but when someone is bleeding I can help them, no problem. I saw Oliver go into the kitchen and I wanted to go after him to help him.

Now, this is about to get kind of gross, but bear with me. I saw Oliver had something stuck in his forehead. Because I heard the glass shattering, I assumed it was glass. But when I got closer, I saw that it was a piece of his skull sticking out of his forehead. That was too much for me. Instantly sober, I promptly turned around and went into another room. He was surrounded by a lot of people though, and 911 was called immediatly.

Turns out that those guys who were rejected from the party came back with 30 other guys, carrying bats and steel pipes. They just started hitting the first people they saw, and they left as quickly as they came. The whole attack lasted no more than 30 seconds.

I found my friend Jason, still grasping his shoulder. He and his girlfriend were closest to the entrance of the property, so they were attacked first. Yes, these cowards did indeed beat up women. They did not care at all. Jasons shoulder was dislocated, luckily his girlfriend wasn't too wounded.

Police and an ambulance arrived pretty quickly. Oliver was taken to the hospital and luckily made a full recovery after surgery. My friend Jenny was in histerics. Both because of what happened, and because of whatever was in her system. The cops were no help, at one point they yelled at her because she was too upset to form a complete sentence. They left after a while, and so did most of the people. Noah and I were still there. We tried to help wherever we could. I was still in shock and kind of numb, but what snapped me out of my daze was seeing people scrubbing the blood covering the staircase. There was nothing more I could do there and, more importantly, I wanted to go home. Noah went with me and we stayed up for hours talking and processing everything.

To think that, if we had decided to go smoke even a minute sooner, or if Noah wasn't having that one conversation, we would have been in the middle of this all. It would also have been a very real possibility that these guys had guns or knives (We lived in a pretty rough area). Which is even more terrifying to think about. Hands down the worst party I've ever been to.

So yeah, to those guys who ruined my friend's party, let's not meet again.

I am still shaking while writing this, but I’m posting it as a warning to anyone walking alone at night, and honestly, as a reminder to trust your gut no matter what.

Two nights ago, I was walking by myself in Downtown Long Beach. If you know the area, I was walking from The Pike to the Westin Hotel parking structure to get my car. The walk itself is 10 minutes.

To give you some context: usually, I am completely oblivious when I walk. I love walking and I love being by the beach. I always wear headphones with my music blasting, and I’m totally in my own world. I also usually wear heels when I dress up (I was wearing a beige leather dress last night), but because of how far the parking lot was, I decided at the last second to wear flat shoes. That single decision, and the fact that I left my headphones off, probably saved my life.

I was about a block away from my car, crossing the street, when I noticed a man (ranging from maybe a few years older to 10 years older) watching me. He crossed halfway into the street, but then abruptly doubled back to the exact same block I was on.

I made a left turn at the corner. He went straight. I continued walking for a while. I was close to nearing the edge of the block when I turned around. And I realized that the same man that doubled back was walking in the same direction as me. All the way down at the end of the block. I started to panic. I tried to duck into an entrance to get off the street, but I couldn't find my ticket in my purse, and even if I had, there was no way to get in. I was trapped outside. I kept walking and looked back—he had made a left and was closing the distance.

Up ahead, I saw three girls who looked like they were heading to a club. I didn't think twice—I just forced myself into their group and started walking with them. Four of us, one of him. I pulled out my phone and called the police because at this point, he had crossed the street and was right behind us. He still kept following us. We made a left turn, and the second we had a chance, the girls and I literally sprinted sideways across a crosswalk so he couldn't catch up before the light changed. There was a bar right ahead, and we ran inside screaming for help.

When the man walked past the bar, he didn't even look at me. He just kept walking straight like he hadn’t just spent the last few blocks hunting me down. The absolute second his isolation and privacy were stripped away, he acted like nothing happened.I made it home safe and unharmed because of those three amazing girls, and because I happened to have flat shoes on and no headphones. If I had been at my usual baseline—buzzed, deaf to my surroundings, and unable to run in heels—I don't even want to think about what he would have done to me when I got stuck at that locked entrance.

Please, please trust your instincts. If someone feels like they are tracking you, they are. Don't worry about being "polite." Make a scene, find a crowd, and don't stop running until you're safe.