The Bus Stop

The Bus Stop

A Story by HadesRising
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I'm a 28-year-old woman with a son, and this event happened to me back in 2007, when I was 17. I haven't had many terrifying experiences, but this one has always stayed with me.

"
I'm a 28-year-old woman with a son, and this event happened to me back in 2007, when I was 17. I haven't had many terrifying experiences, but this one has always stayed with me.

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My usual transport to school was a van service, but its route was long which meant that I had to do a lot of waiting every morning by the stop.

On one morning, I sat by the curb; the van was late. I didn't need to have a perfect attendance so going to school wasn't mandatory, but I'd promised my friend a novel to read and didn't like the idea of letting her down, and remained waiting for the van.

Ten more minutes went by and I started thinking maybe the driver had just forgotten about me. Before I could consider going back home, my eye caught someone sitting by the end of the pavement.

It was winter, and mornings were dark, so I couldn't make out what they looked like. I didn't like the idea of a random person looking in my direction.

I told myself I was just being paranoid because the chances were this person was also waiting for their conveyance and didn't know where to look because it was just the two of us there.

However, once I'd gotten up midway through deciding to go back home, I noticed this person stirring; they were reacting to my leaving.

I sat back down, my insides churning with the presence of the newly erupting fear. It was at this point I saw it was a boy. He was around my age; tall, extremely thin, with frizzled hair that looked as if it hadn't been brushed in ages but that he'd attempted to run a comb in them very recently.

He was around my age; tall, extremely thin, with frizzled hair that looked as if it hadn't been brushed in ages but that he'd attempted to run a comb in them very recently

The thing that troubled me most were his eyes " they were in slits; studying the frame of my body as if intimately familiar with its rhythm.

My urge was to run back home, but I remembered only my mother was there, and should this boy follow me back, he'd know where I lived.

I got up and started following the road toward my school; It was about a ten-minute walk till I could get there.

I didn't want to look behind to see if he was following me, but I got the eerie sense at the back of my head that he was. I slowly turned behind to find the street empty.

Sighing in relief, I began continuing my way when I realized I could hear footsteps again. This time, I didn't turn back and took a couple steps forward instead.

My hunch was right, someone was walking in tandem with my footsteps, hoping my steps would cover the sound of theirs.

I swung around quickly to see behind me: I saw the unmistakable figure of a person retreating into an alley to the side.

I froze again. I was definitely being followed.

My cell phone blared, causing me to jump in fright. I could feel the relief flooding my face; I'd forgotten about my phone.

I was sure it was my elder brother, who was visiting from abroad and had gone out to meet friends early in the morning.

"Someone's following me," I shuddered as I whispered into my phone, "you need to come pick me up.

"I'm going to run to school, I can't take a chance standing here."

I thought it was odd that my brother had no reaction when I was clearly in such distress.

I only heard silence at the end of the line and realized I hadn't actually checked who'd called me.

Before I could look at the phone screen, the person on the line spoke.

"Don't go, I'll come get you."

My brother was a large man and 25-years-old, this voice belonged to someone much younger and sounded thinner.

My eyes traveled toward the spot I'd seen the person following me and felt myself tremble.

The person had moved out his hiding place and was looking directly at me. A shadow was cast upon his frame, but I could see his figure aimed in my direction.

What curled my blood was his hand that reached toward his ear; a phone he pressed against it.

"What's the matter? Are you scared?"

I couldn't think of anything to say. This person was not only following me, he had my phone number.

Raising his other hand, he waved it toward me; his teeth the only part of him clear " coiling upward to reveal a sinister smile.

Raising his other hand, he waved it toward me; his teeth the only part of him clear coiling upward to reveal a sinister smile
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There was nothing else for me to do, I ran in the opposite direction as fast and as hard as I could. I was convinced the sounds of footsteps chasing me could be heard from behind and I didn't stop to check.

I began screaming for help, hoping someone might hear my frantic cries. But the streets were empty , and no amount of screaming helped.

I'd reached the end of my stamina and was about to collapse before hitting someone hard, who held onto me and prevented me from falling.

"What's the matter, are you okay?"

It was another boy; thin, but with hair that was shaved like someone from the army. He had my arms gripped gently as if worried I might collapse.

"There's someone falling me," I stammered, grateful that another person was there, "please, can you call the police?"

I'd realized I'd dropped my phone in terror and there was no way I would be going back to retrieve it.

"Sorry, I don't have a phone," the boy replied.

He hadn't let go of my arms yet; I yanked them back. He didn't react, but continued studying me. There was no one else around the vicinity and I wasn't comfortable standing so close to him.

"It's okay, I'll walk you to where you want to go," he said gently.

I awkwardly murmured my thanks and began pacing ahead. For a person who just heard someone had been pursuing me, this boy didn't seem so bothered.

"You mind if I walk with you?" he asked. I'd been walking a few steps ahead of him, but thinking that he was doing me a favor by sticking around I agreed and he walked next to me.

I didn't speak, nor did I look at him. I just wanted to arrive at my school and call home.

Meanwhile, I could feel the boy looking at me despite walking ahead. A few times I saw him open his mouth to speak but then continue the silence by keeping the stare.

"Is there something you want to say?" I finally broke the silence; his constant leering was freaking me out.

"Yes," he replied. "young girls shouldn't go out alone."

I didn't know what to make of that.

"You should have a man to take care of you. There are a lot of dangerous people out here."

I simply nodded at him; already regretting asking him to accompany me. But now that he'd started talking, a noticeable glint was in his eye that I couldn't ignore.

But now that he'd started talking, a noticeable glint was in his eye that I couldn't ignore

"Especially for beautiful girls like yourself-"

"-you know, I can walk from here myself, thanks." I said loudly and started sprinting ahead.

"Don't you want your phone first?" He caught up to me.

The boy stretched out his hand revealing my phone in his palm.

I was shocked. How could he have it?

"I couldn't let you lose it. How else would we have been able to stay in touch?"

My eyes traced from his hand over to his face and I recoiled in fright it was the same boy who had been following me at the bus stop.

"Oh, you noticed," he gestured toward his buzzcut, "I saw you didn't like my long hair so I did this for you."

From his pocket he took out a razor. The boy had slashed off all his hair after I'd ran away from him! Several cuts were present on his newly exposed scalp; blood trickling down his head with persistent drops.

"Isn't this romantic? This is how the hero and heroine meet in movies. I've been watching you for months, following your van and all that, and you never knew about it." His face was spread in a wide smile.

I doubled back, afraid that he might want to reach out and grab me.

The boy didn't seem to care how terrified I looked; he had the face of someone who had just gotten a girl to say yes to his hand in marriage.

"I was hoping you'd go back to your house when I saw you at the stop, I could've asked your mother's blessings before proposing to you," he laughed.

At this point it looked as if he was having a conversation with himself. That look of insane glee never left his face.

"Please, just leave me alone," I tried to sound firm, but my fear was so great it sounded like a little girl asking to stay up late.

"What?" His face dropped, that loverboy look fading away. "How can we get married if I let you go?"

"I don't want to marry you!"

Even though that was the truth, I had made a big mistake by saying that. The boy's face turned red, his eyes turned back into slits, and his mouth curled into a ferocious growl.

"You think it's easy showing up every morning and hiding away just to look at you? You think it was easy collecting all that money for our wedding? You think it was easy finding your van's garage and slashing its tires at 3 in the night just so I ...

"You think it's easy showing up every morning and hiding away just to look at you? You think it was easy collecting all that money for our wedding? You think it was easy finding your van's garage and slashing its tires at 3 in the night just so I could talk to you?" The boy bellowed.

I could see the razor in his hand that he was brandishing close to my face.

"You should grow up and stop living in a fantasy. Be thankful I was willing to do all this for you. Now come, let's go."

He reached out and grabbed my hand. It was then I knew that there was no way this boy would let me go; he was going to take me with him.

The only thing I could do was fight back.

He had a tight grip on my right arm, so I stuck out my left hand and clawed him in the eyes; he cried in pain and let go.

I instantly took off in direction of my school, but it wasn't long before I felt two arms grasp me around the abdomen.

I felt the wind get knocked out of my lungs as the boy lifted me up from behind and attempted to tackle me to the ground.

"If we're fighting like this now, imagine how we'll fight after our wedding," he hissed into my ear as we struggled, then broke into a high-pitched scream of a laugh.

I took my chance, ramming by elbow into his nose. Thankfully, that was enough for him to release me and I dashed away.

I didn't stop this time and ran until I reached the gate of my school, at which point I fell on the ground weeping.

My brother came to pick me up within the hour once I'd told the Principal everything that had happened. Sure enough, the driver had called in to inform that the van's tires had indeed been slashed overnight.

When I told the description of the boy who had been following me, other girls supported the description saying they had noticed someone like that lurking around the van on occasion.

My horror wasn't over just then either. While I was seated in the principal's office, my phone began ringing again.

It was the same boy, and he was adamant that he would find a way to marry me, one way or another. He said he knew everything about who I am, where I live, and where I would be.

My brother threatened him harshly on the phone of the consequences, but the boy didn't take him seriously.

I didn't take the van after that, and my mother had me stay at my aunt's house for a couple weeks in fear that the boy might show up at our house.

One day, my brother caught sight of the boy hanging around our street. As I said previously, my brother's a very large man, and compared to him that boy was hardly a threat.

My brother ended up beating the boy to submission after he'd confronted him and the boy had still insisted he would pursue me.

The police had the boy arrested and I haven't heard from him since or know what became of him.

The police had the boy arrested and I haven't heard from him since or know what became of him

Now, over a decade later, I'd like to say that fear has gone. But I wonder whenever I'm by myself in a sparsely populated area, if he might jump up out of nowhere, or if he's just lurking in a dark corner; hiding, watching my every move for his sick pleasure.

I still remember that craziness in his eyes when he'd looked at me, and the promise he'd made. It was a vow he was prepared to die for - or worse, to kill for.

Sometimes, I worry for my husband and son and whether that man is now stalking our whole family.

I know one thing, I'm raising my son to respect women, and draw lines between admiration and obsession.

© 2019 HadesRising


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Added on July 12, 2019
Last Updated on July 12, 2019

Author

HadesRising
HadesRising

London, United Kingdom



About
The cruelty wrought between lines of despair is but one with my own labored heart Favorite Poets/Writers Dani Filth, Jim Butcher, Kevin Hearne, Tolkien, more..

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