“Get in the van”

So I was around 16 or 17 yrs old when this happened. I used to work in a grocery store in what most might consider a bad neighborhood. I always worked till around 11pm and had to cross a fairly busy street to get to the bus stop. The bus stop isn’t the most well lit and the buses have been known to pass people because they couldn’t see them sitting there.

So I’m waiting for the bus to pull up when this white mini van pulls up in front of me. This driver rolls down his window and asks how old I am. I just look at him because why would I tell you my age, random person?

He begins telling me that I should get in the van to go to church with him. I can see another person sitting in the dark back of the van. I can’t really see him but I can tell he’s looking at me. The driver then begins to insist that I get in the van so he can save my soul.

Right when he starts to open the door and I start easing back to run, the bus pulls up behind him blowing its horn at him. He slams his palms on the steering wheel and speeds off as I’m running to jump on the bus.

I tell the driver what happened and he drops me off right in front of my house and wait till I run inside.

He wouldn’t leave

This happened about two years ago when I was 16, at my best friends flat. It was around midnight and both of us were in her kitchen dancing around and being silly in short shorts and bikini tops. Her mum was passed out on the sofa the other end of the flat, bearing in mind she lives on the ground floor.

After a few minutes we noticed an old car slowly driving past the window, we thought nothing of it really, until we saw it come back and stop right outside. We thought maybe it was one of her neighbours but a bit odd as they were all quite old and probably wouldn’t be driving that time of night. We just continued with what we were doing when her door buzzer went off. My best friend without thinking pressed the button to open the main door, not even asking who it was.

When she opened her door a tall large bald man, dressed in old paint splattered clothes walks up to us at the door. “you ordered a male escort?” He said. Me and my best friend looked at each other with confusion, and I said that no we didn’t order anyone you have the wrong house. He kept edging his way closer into our doorway and said, “no you definitely told me this address.” We got really freaked out and asked him to leave, but he proceeded to tell us he is coming in and made his way into the doorway, just as he did my friends mum comes to the door and asks him who he is. He backs right up from the door and starts stuttering, saying he got called to this address.

She asks him what is this address and he doesn’t have a clue, and just makes some street up while he is stuttering, trying to think of somewhere. He apologises and then leaves. Me and my best friend are pretty shaken up but decide it’s a good idea not to prance around late at night not wearing a lot of clothing.

The man on the balcony

When I was about 11 years old I lived in a one bedroom apartment with my Mother (we were very poor) and the bedroom had double sliding glass doors that led out to the balcony. We lived on the third floor for safety and the cheaper rent it offered.

My Mother often stayed in the living room late into the evening because she liked to watch TV before bed and I preferred quiet.

One night I was up in the top bunk (we had a bunk bed with a full size mattress on the bottom and a twin on top) and my Mom came into the room and called my name quietly. I’m a light sleeper so I woke right up. She said, “there is someone on the back porch – don’t move.” She was standing just outside the doorway to the room and had stopped entering when the saw the shadow of someone behind the blinds covering the glass doors. The type of blinds that are flat when closed but with the lights around the complex you could see his shadow through them.

I just remember being shocked that someone could get up onto a third floor balcony!

Then he started to knock – really slowly – that’s when I got scared. My Mom went into the kitchen and called 911. I stayed as still as I could hoping he would just go away.

It couldn’t have been more than 3 minutes but the next time I opened my eyes he was gone. When the police arrived about 3 minutes after that they looked all over the complex but could find no sign of him. When one of the officers went onto our balcony there was no indication of how he’d gotten up to the third floor but there were two very evident palm prints where he’d leaned against the glass for who knows how long before my Mom walked in. It never happened to us again – I hope it didn’t happen to anyone else either.