Creepy Stalker

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When I was in high school I spent a lot of time at my best friends house. She lived sort of out in the country, a few houses close by but not a lot of neighbors.

We used to spend our time walking up and down the road she lived on as their wasn’t much traffic and it got us outside. We were night owls and often could be found after dark wandering the road telling each other creepy stories just trying to freak each other out.

On the night in question we were about 10 minutes from her house when we heard a strange banging coming from just up the hillside near an abandoned chicken house. We kept walking, not phased as her neighbors were known for doing odd projects at all hours of the night and they were just as accustomed to us walking the road at late hours.

It was just a few more yards up the road that he came into view.

The man was standing just off the road, holding a shovel. He was banging it on the pavement just staring at us with this weird grin. We didn’t walk any closer, we slowly turned and began to make our way back to her house thinking surely he wouldn’t follow. We walked for about 5 minutes, talking quietly about what he could have possibly been doing before we heard it, the sound of steps in the leaves on the roadside. Kaycee glanced over her shoulder and grabbed my arm, pulling me forward as she broke into a run.

“He’s following us,” she frantically whisspeed to me as I matched her pace. The foot steps didn’t come any faster, they just seemed to fade into the background as we raced toward her driveway. We made it up the porch steps and into the house to find her mom on the phone.

We immediately spilled out everything that had just taken place and Kaycee’s mom repeated our story to Kaycee’s dad who was on the other end of the call. He worked nights then, which is why he wasn’t there.

He told us to lock the doors and sit tight. Crazy neighbors werect unusual, and the guy had probably lost interest in us once we were in the house, he reasoned. He also asked if we were sure it wasn’t a kid we knew playing a joke.

A few hours passed and we sort of forgot about the whole thing, I mean, it had been pretty silly to get so scared, right? We laid in the floor watching a movie while Kaycee’s mom worked on the computer nearby.

Suddenly she began to scold us. “Stop it girls. That’s enough.” We looked at her, deeply confused. After all, we had just been laying in the floor watching a movie. My eyes saw what she was talking about before she could even say anything else. A laser light on the wall. I looked at Kaycee, who by this time had seen it too. “That isn’t us,” I confirmed what she had already realised as we followed the path the laser had to be taking.

Our gazes all came to a rest at their large picture window. The curtains were just far enough apart for light from the porch light to peek through. There he stood. The man from earlier, leering at us and pointing a laser flashlight in the window.

I remember screaming louder than I thought I even could as Kaycee’s mom yelled at us to get into the bathroom where there was no windows. She called the police and we sat there, panicking, waiting for something else to happen.

It felt like an eternity before the police finally arrived, to find only foot prints.

Kaycee’s parents still live in that house, although these days the security around their house is much tighter. The police never caught our night stalker but even all these years later I still wonder about that night. Who was he? Did he know Kaycee and I would happen upon him on that road? Did we suprise him as he was doing something he didn’t need witnesses for? I will probably never know. But what I do know is this, I will never be caught walking rarely traveled roads after dark ever again.


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