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What if he was near me all the time without me knowing? I deleted my account. I took all my pictures off imgur. I stayed home from school the next day.

I was afraid to leave my house. Around four that afternoon, I received a Facebook message from a girl named Charlotte. I click on her profile before reading her message.

I know her from class. Relief floods through me. Her message asked if I would like to join her study group and that, if I was interested, they were meeting after school at the coffee shop just off campus.

I needed to learn what I had missed during my absence, so I agreed and said I would see her after class. The next day, I waited at the coffee shop.

I ordered a mocha and sat in the corner. I didn't want to draw too much attention to myself since I was alone. I pulled out my laptop and got on Facebook while I waited.

I wondered if maybe Charlotte had canceled the study session. No new messages from her though. I had an uneasy feeling. I went back to her profile and noticed something I should have noticed before.

I was her only friend. She had no recent post history. She only had one photo. I slammed my laptop shut, threw my coffee away, and left immediately.

I felt like someone was following me. I glanced around, paranoid. I couldn't go home. I didn't know if they might be waiting for that so that they knew where I lived.

What if they already knew? I was scared. I started crying. A man approached me and asked if I was alright.

He touched my arm gently. I flinched away like I was burned and ran. I went into a store to hide. I watched the door, terrified it would open and my stalker would find me.

I didn't know who he was and that was the scariest part. He could be anyone. I started crying again. I couldn't leave the store. I sat down on one of the little benches for trying on shoes.

I sat there until a lady told me they were closing and that I had to go. I stepped outside and it was dark. He could be waiting for me. I would have been safer in the day time.

I panicked. I turned around and started yanking on the door. She had already locked it behind me. She was walking back to the register.

I started banging on the door and screaming. I couldn't be alone. Let me back in! She came back. I was so grateful.

She unlocked the door and let me back in, locking it again behind us. She then called the police. I lied to them.

I had to lie. I didn't want them to know how stupid I had been. I said I met him on the internet and I had no clue how he knew where I lived.

I told them about the fake Charlotte Facebook account and the pictures of myself he sent me. There wasn't anything they could do without proof and, since I deleted my reddit account, I didn't have anything except Facebook messages.

I was a mess. They escorted me home and said they would have an officer on my block all night. I barely slept at all. The next day, I was afraid to leave my apartment.

I received another message from fake Charlotte. Why did you leave? I strained my mind, struggling to remember the people in the coffee shop around me, but the truth was, none of them stood out.

They were just regular people. My stalker looked normal. My stalker was right there and I couldn't tell. I contacted the police department and told them about the new message.

They took note of it and said the officer would be on my block again that night to keep me safe. What about during the day though? How was I supposed to go outside?

I blocked the fake Facebook account and made sure all my doors were locked. I closed my blinds in every room and turned on all the lights.

I ate ramen noodles and watched Netflix. I fell asleep on my couch. I was awoken by the text buzzing of my phone.

It was from a strange number. I opened it. I covered my mouth to stifle a sob. That was the movie I had been watching when I had fallen asleep.

I called and told them someone was in my house. The officer on my block knocked on my door just a minute later.

I showed him the text and told him I thought the guy was in my house. He searched the house, gun drawn and found nothing. No sign of forced entry on any of the doors or windows.

However, he did discover that you could see my TV clearly through my blinds. They tried to track the number, but it was a TextFree account and the name and email address it was connected to turned up nothing.

He knew where I lived. I wanted to leave and go stay with a friend, but I knew he would just follow me.

Instead, I invited my older brother to stay at my house for a few days. I told him about what was going on and pleaded that he stay to protect me.

After hearing my story, he decided he would stay until they caught the guy. My brother lived nearby, so it wasn't a big deal. However, he still had to leave me to go to work.

During those hours, I paced, constantly peering out the windows and jumping at the slightest noise. When my brother, Sean, was home, I stayed in the same room at all times.

I made him take me grocery shopping. I couldn't go alone. I stopped going to school. I needed someone to catch this guy.

For the first few days Sean stayed, I heard nothing from my tormentor. I was relieved, but at the same time, it felt like the calm before the storm.

On the fourth day, I got a text from a different number than before. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday 9 a. He knew when I would be alone. I sunk down against the counter, sobbing.

It was 12 p. He had six more hours before Sean got home. I phoned the cops. They tried tracking the number again, but same as before, nothing.

I contemplated suicide. My hair was falling out. I couldn't sleep. I had chewed my nails down until they bled. Weeks went by.

I received text after text, all from different numbers. They all told me he was watching. At some point, I decided I couldn't be a victim anymore.

I had my brother go with me to get a gun license. I bought a Ruger Compact Pistol. I spent a lot of money I didn't have on that gun and went to a shooting range to learn how to use it.

He wasn't going to fuck with me anymore. Sean offered to take off work to stay and watch over me, but I refused.

Instead, after he left, I went out. I wanted to bait my stalker. I needed to know who he was. I needed him to slip up and reveal himself accidentally.

So, I went out window shopping. I flipped through racks of clothes and tried on shoes. I watched the people around me, but I didn't notice anyone watching and I didn't see anyone twice.

I didn't receive any texts. It was like he knew I was trying to catch him. He stopped for a week. I started going back to school.

My first day back, he sent me a picture of myself at my desk. Again, it was through the glass window in the door. My head snapped to the right. He was already gone.

I excused myself from class. When I got out in the hall, I didn't know which way he had gone. I didn't know what he looked like. I had left my gun in my car.

I couldn't take it in the school. It was hidden under my seat. I felt a lot less brave without it. Left led to the lunch quarters and right led out to the main office and visitor parking.

Assuming he wasn't a student, I went right. I ran. I reached the parking lot and saw a car leaving. I didn't know that it was my stalker, but I memorized the license plate and saved it in my phone.

After that, I went to the front office and asked to speak with security personnel. A balding, overweight man who fit the donut stereotype spoke with me.

I told him about my situation and asked him if I could see the security footage from the time that I was in class and received the photo.

He allowed me to see it. During the moment I received the photo, he was already gone, but before that, a guy in a black hoodie watched through the window for nearly ten minutes before snapping the photo.

I felt defeated. He was smarter than I thought. The car I saw pulling out couldn't have been him. I asked him to play the footage from when he was coming down the hall, when he would be facing the cameras.

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