Terror

He Knew Where I Lived?

A few summers ago I went for a bike ride around midnight with a friend. We went our separate ways at the end of the evening and I had about two blocks to ride back by myself.

Because of construction I had to ride on the sidewalk but the streets were dead but it wasn’t a problem until right where I was about to turn left onto my street. There was this man walking by himself, maybe 40s, a little scruffy but not homeless.

The side walk was narrow and I didn’t want to freak him out so when I got about six feet behind him I said “hey behind you!” And he turned around and gave me this super angry look.

I turned down me street and he started to follow me, literally screaming about how I was a fucking cunt and he was going to kill me and all that. I live right off the corner and I didn’t want him to figure that out so I decided to do another loop around the block. That’s not the scary part.

The scary part is that when I looped back around and looked down the street I saw him standing on my fucking front stoop staring out at the street like the motherfucker KNEW I lived there. He saw me ride by again but he didn’t say anything.

I ended up going back to the friends, but my bike got stolen from the alleyway by the house two days later.