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My boots clopped along the pavement as I travelled down the tired street. No one else was in sight, but that was how I preferred it. My walks were my time to be alone, away from the babbling mouths of my two children and husband. I needed the quiet sometimes, and I found that quiet under the night sky. I had walked every day for two years, taking the same route almost every time. That day I had decided to go down a side street and explore somewhere new.

The frosty wind tickled the trees and their leaves whispered in reply. The full power of winter had not yet arrived, but there was a chill in the air that I couldn’t ignore. I pulled my coat tighter around myself, blocking out some of the cold. I counted the streetlights as I passed. One. Two. Three. What a beautiful night to go for a walk, I thought. The stars were on full display, even under the harsh lights along the sidewalk. I passed a few houses, taking in their various colors and sizes. Televisions flickered in some windows, making shadows of the house’s occupants dance behind the curtains. Others remained dark, perhaps their occupants were already asleep, dreaming pleasant dreams.

I found myself beside a park next, trees reaching up to the stars with their outstretched limbs. I made a mental note to return to the park during normal daylight hours with my children, then continued on.

Another gust of cold air wrapped itself around me, tousling my long blonde hair. I smiled, happy to be alive. I breathed it in, soaking up these few blessed moments of purity.

A rustling noise came from behind me, like the sound of something coming out of the bushes. A dog, perhaps, I thought to myself, though very unsure. I refused to turn around but picked up my pace just slightly. I rounded the next corner hoping to see the source of the noise without being too obvious.

Glancing to where I once was, I saw a man standing in the center of the sidewalk. I couldn’t make out any of his features with the exception of the orange glow of his cigarette due to the distance and awkward lighting. One thing I knew for sure: he was watching me.

The ice in the wind found a home in my heart. I took a deep breath and tried to reassure myself. He’s not following me; he’s just standing there. It’s okay.

Even so, the night didn’t seem so beautiful anymore. The shadows now seemed to be filled with hidden horrors. Less and less homes were illuminated the farther I walked. The wind lost its playfulness and now felt as if it was trying to warn me. “Stop! Turn back! Beware!” it said. Even the stars seemed to dim.

More clopping on the sidewalk, but not just from me. Someone else was here, behind me. I knew it had to be the man. I fumbled through my pockets, knowing I had some pepper spray somewhere. One pocket, two pockets, three pockets empty. Finally, I found it in the last pocket and clutched it tightly. I didn’t know what was to come.

I could hear him getting closer. I picked up my pace and uncapped my pepper spray while trying not to appear afraid. He continued to gain on me.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

I ran. My boots thudded loudly with every step. Down the street and around a corner I went, running until I slipped and fell off the path. I couldn’t hear my pursuer anymore. Did I lose him?

My heart beat against my chest, fueled by the fear and adrenaline. Slowly, and as quietly as possible, I crept back to the corner. Peering around a house, I was just in time to see the man open the door to his home across the street. Three small children rushed up to greet him. “Daddy!” they yelled, hugging him with their little arms. He laughed and ushered them all back inside. The door closed, and the night was quiet once again.

I hurried home and had a similar reunion with my family at the front door. That night I was grateful for my warm house with all its noise and chaos. Later, as I was laying in my bed with my husband snoring beside me, I reflected on my latest walk.

Was I ever in danger? Was my fear warranted? Was the man even chasing me, or did I misinterpret things? Some questions will never be answered.

But just in case,

December 05, 2019 18:22

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