Following Close Behind Me
I was walking alone back to my car from dinner with my girlfriends. It was about 9 PM, but it’s a college town, so this was the beginning of the night for most.
I was in my early 30s and knocked up at the time, but it was winter, so with a big coat on, I just looked old and fat to most college kids. I felt totally safe being alone at this hour.
I got to the door to the stairs to the parking garage, and just as I was about to open it, it opened from the other side, and an attractive guy came out. He was about 25 and smiley.
He said hi and held the door for me. I think that’s nice and started down the stairs. That’s when things took a turn. When I got to the bend, I heard footsteps behind me, and something about them scared the heck out of me.
I sped up. The footsteps sped up. I didn’t look back because I didn’t want whoever it was to have the advantage of knowing for sure that I knew they were following me. So, I sped up again, and so did the footsteps.
Soon I was running and so was whoever was behind me. I got to my level, opened the door as quietly as possible, and then flat out sprinted, ducked behind a cement barricade, jumped into my car, and locked the doors.
Then shaking, I looked back to see it was the guy who held the door for me. He was obviously looking for me. I waited until he turned in the wrong direction, then I left.
After I got a block away, I pulled over to freak out. That’s when I realized what scared me about the footsteps. It was the door into the stairwell—I didn’t hear it reopen after I went through.
I’d felt safe, and I knew no one was behind me when I went into the stairwell except the guy who was leaving them and holding the door. If he was trying to tell me I’d dropped something, he would have said “excuse me” or “hey, lady.”
I am 100% certain he intended to harm me, which was why he silently chased me down the stairs. He was running after me and never said a word.
That’s super creepy behavior.