For context, I was 12 years old when this happened to me. My dad would often take me to the grocery store, wait in the parking lot, and have me do the shopping in order for me to “build independence.” This is why I was alone at the time of the incident.
Anyways, the day it happened, I entered the store as usual, roaming the aisles and occasionally dropping items into my cart. All was normal until I noticed a man was following me throughout the store. It shouldn’t have been too panicking, but for me, as a kid with no cell phone and no way to contact my parents, it got a lot more terrifying than I suppose it would’ve been for an adult. The man confirmed my suspicions when I circled the same aisle 3 times and he was right behind me each time.
Since it was getting kind of late, a lot of the customers had started leaving the store with their purchases. The store slowly became more desolate, and my fear skyrocketed.
Desperate to get to my dad and away from this man, I sped to checkout. I should have just booked it, but I desperately wanted to prove myself “not a chicken” to my dad, stand my ground, and get the groceries I came for.
I went to a checkout and started scanning, attempting to maintain my composure. I had started to convince myself that I was overreacting and that the man was not following me and that I was just paranoid when the man came up to me.
“Hi!” he said in a cheery voice. “I couldn’t help but wonder why such a young girl like you is here alone! You must be a brave girl!”
“Um, I…” I couldn’t speak. I was so terrified I almost pissed myself. “I’m not here alone. My dad is here.”
“Is he? I didn’t see him with you.”
“He’s in the bathroom.” God, I sucked at lying.
The man crouched down and got to eye-level with me. “Tell you what: I’ll pay for your groceries and give you a ride home. How does that sound?”
Alarm bells went off in my head. Everything my mother had drilled into my head about not going with strangers was screaming at me. I froze.
“Um… I have a ride. Th-thanks for offering though. And I can pay for the groceries.”
Throughout the conversation I was quickly scanning the groceries as fast as I could. I finished up, and was about to pay for the groceries when the man smiled maliciously at me, swept my hand aside and said, “No trouble, sweetie. I’ll pay.” He put his card into the machine. It accepted the payment, and he took my hand along with the groceries. “Now come on, let’s go.”
The second his cold, bony hand took mine my instincts kicked in. I squirmed out of his grip and noped out of the grocery store, without the groceries. I started screaming at the top of my lungs and ran as fast as I could to my dad’s car. He opened the door, put out his cigarette, and started asking me what happened. At this point I was sobbing, and tears ran down my cheeks as I recanted my tale to him. A couple minutes later, we pulled out of the parking lot and drove home.
To this day, I have no idea why the man didn’t pursue me when I ran. If he had, I would’ve been caught, no question. But to the man who almost abducted me when I was 12: I wish you the worst. I hope some day you rot in hell.