It was a cold winter night, and I was on my way home from a long day at work. I had missed the last bus, so I decided to take the train instead.
As I settled into my seat, I noticed a man sitting across from me. He was tall and thin, with a pale face and dark eyes that seemed to be staring right at me.
I tried to ignore him, but every time I looked up, he was still staring. It made me feel uneasy, so I decided to move to another seat. But as I got up, the man spoke.
“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice low and raspy.
I didn’t respond. I just hurried to another seat, trying to put as much distance between us as possible.
But as the train rattled down the tracks, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the man was still watching me. Every time I looked up, he was still staring, his eyes following my every move.
I tried to distract myself by reading a book, but I couldn’t concentrate. My mind was racing with all kinds of horrible thoughts.
What if the man followed me off the train? What if he tried to hurt me?
As the train pulled into my station, I gathered my things and headed for the door. But before I could step off, the man grabbed my arm.
“Can I walk you home?” he asked, his voice still low and raspy.
I pulled away from him and ran down the platform, not looking back until I was safely outside.
But as I walked home, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following me. Every time I turned around, there was no one there. But I could still feel their presence, like a cold hand on the back of my neck.
When I finally reached my apartment building, I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought I was safe.
But as I rode the elevator up to my floor, I saw the man again. He was standing in the hallway, his eyes fixed on me.
I didn’t know what to do. I was trapped in the elevator, with nowhere to go.
As the doors opened, I made a run for my apartment, fumbling with my keys as I tried to unlock the door. But the man was right behind me, his breath hot on my neck.
I managed to get inside and slam the door shut, locking it as quickly as I could. I could hear him pounding on the door, his voice muffled as he shouted something I couldn’t understand.
I called the police, and they arrived within minutes. But by the time they got there, the man was gone.
They asked me a lot of questions, but I couldn’t tell them much. I didn’t know who the man was or what he wanted. All I knew was that he had scared me more than anything else ever had.
Even now, years later, I still can’t forget that night. I still look over my shoulder when I’m walking alone, wondering if the stranger on the train is following me once again.