Before I start, I just want to say that I’m 14 years old now, and look 16 or 17 at most. People usually guess I’m somewhere between 11 to 15 just by looking at me.
My grandpa went to this big box store on Tuesday like usual. I went with him for the opportunity to get out of the house and get some free samples. We went over to the Book section and he said he’d be right back. This guy in his mid 50’s to early 60’s smiled at me until my grandpa was well on the other side of the store and in a bathroom.
I picked up TFIOS and started reading it when the guy mumbled something. I figured that since the store was pretty busy, worst case scenario someone would hear me if I had to yell, and the cameras everywhere would see it if he groped me, so I took a step closer and said I couldn’t hear what he said. He said how Stephen King had known Robin Williams and a ton of other people that died recently and how sad it was while looking at one of Stephen King’s books. I agreed that it was sad and turned back to the book and away from him.
He then started talking about how Stephen King had been on a tv show recently and asked me about what tv shows I liked while staring at my chest. I kinda mumbled dismissively and put the book in front of my chest, hoping he’d leave me alone. The table of books faced a wall of movies and so he looked for all the kid and teen movies and saying “Oh I have *insert young adult movie*, I also have *insert other young adult movie*, etc.” as he got closer to me with each title. I backed up against a pole that supported the ceiling and put my grandpa’s cart in between us.
He finally left, but when I turned to see if he was gone I saw him staring at me as he went away. I stayed in that store for another hour since my grandpa had literally no food at home and I felt like that man was watching me the whole time. I didn’t even tell my grandpa or mom since they’d get mad at me for not causing a scene or for overreacting and having a problem with what happened. They’re never predictable, a fight’s always around the corner anyway, and I’ve been thrown out by other family members for much less.
I thought I was safe once I got home, or at least I had the same level of safety I’m used to. I was right, for a little while at least.
I had to send some presents to my cousins in Alabama so I went to the local post office. My mind was so caught up in dealing with my social anxiety that I didn’t even realize it was my turn to go up to the desk until my number was called 3 times. I walked up to the desk, rehearsing what I’d say in my mind again, before I realized who was working at the desk.
He just smirked and stared at my address and me as I fumbled to pay him. I don’t know what to do.
I live in a little mother in law suite around half a mile from the house where the rest of my family lives. It’s all on the same property but we have two separate mail boxes. The main house has an ornate, 3 foot tall wooden A in the yard while mine has a large B above the front door. I had loved it because it meant I could play music as loudly as possible and they didn’t hear anything and I couldn’t hear their incessant yelling.
They won’t hear me if I yell. I don’t know what to do.
(This was an anonymous submission, partially fictional, but based upon a real life experience.)
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Credits to: photofreecreepypasta
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