25.
And finally, we’ll end on a longer story: “It was the dead of winter near midnight, and I was struggling to empty a heavy trash can into a dumpster. I lived in a small town where everything shut down at 8 p.m., so seeing people around late at night wasn’t impossible, just a lil’ unusual — especially with the shitty cold weather keeping folks indoors. But not me — I was a janitor for a few different businesses, and since I wasn’t a morning person, I cleaned at night. The dumpster was about thirty feet behind the building, so I had to tread carefully through the icy parking lot to avoid falling. The sidewalk that ran in front of the building was perfectly paved and salted — remember that. So there I was: struggling to heave the garbage in the can, trying not to break my neck slipping on ice, at midnight when the town was dead…when I heard the crunching of footsteps behind me.”
“I turned around and there was a guy coming from around the building heading towards me (he was about 15 feet away when I noticed him). Instantly, I just froze and stared at him. There was nothing back here except me, a dumpster, the hill the dumpster rests up against (that I can’t scale), and a lot of open icy areas. And I had left my pepper spray inside in my bag. All these facts were hitting me hard in the gut.
The guy saw me see him, and he turned, heading back towards the sidewalk, but he seemed low-key pissed.
‘Hey,’ he said.
Me, still processing what reason anyone but me could have to be there that late at night: ‘…’
‘I said hey!’ He said, now even more pissed.
‘Hey,’ I said back because now I was wondering if I was being standoffish to a dude on a walk. But at the same time, my inner alarm bells were screaming because A) he was holding a sturdy-looking pole that could be used as a weapon, B) he walked back to the paved sidewalk to leave — why wasn’t he on the sidewalk in the first place? Why make a random U-shape around a building with a shitty icy parking lot when the sidewalk is safer/better? And C) I realized as he got closer that he was shorter than me. I don’t think he realized how tall I was from a distance. Just innately, I felt as he was walking away that the reason he didn’t do anything was because he realized I might’ve put up more of a fight than he could’ve handled.
I got my ass back inside and locked the doors. I secretly watched him walk away down the sidewalk, and when he was out of sight, I checked out his footpath in the snow. That’s when I saw prints next to one of the windows. Instantly, my gut sank. I think he had noticed the lights on in the building and investigated. He probably watched me clean inside for god knows how long before deciding to follow me to the dumpster.
It really scared me, I can’t lie. Even though nothing had technically happened, I didn’t feel safe cleaning at night anymore, so I started cleaning in the mornings.
This is not the end of the story. It was years later, when I was checking out the local bulletin board when I saw that guy’s fucking face on a wanted/danger poster. He had murdered two older people (not his grandparents; they were strangers), decapitating them but leaving their dogs alive. He had no real motive other than ‘opportunity.’ I think back to running into him next to that dumpster and get really fucking nervous as there was no goddamn way anyone was coming to help. I wonder, if I was a short woman, would I be dead right now?
The final kicker: he hasn’t been caught. That’s right, he’s still on the loose somewhere. I think he’s got friends/family hiding him somewhere — I don’t know how he’s managing to survive otherwise.”
Source link
