 I always hated gas stations at night, especially when no one was around. They were always so eerie. The way the hospital-like lights shone down in the pavement, how alone you felt while putting gas in, the silence, the only thing that surrounded you. That's why I always stayed on my toes. God forbid something bad happened, like, you know, me getting kidnapped, or the store getting robbed, or something. So this time, one exhausted night after hanging out with my sister, when I saw a man standing at the corner doing nothing but what looked like staring, it put me on With my sleepy vision, I could barely make out his features in the dark as the light from the overhead didn't quite reach him, but he was haul and frightening and that was all I cared about. I turned around to press the gas button, put in a 20, and made sure to look back every now and then to assure he wasn't getting any closer. My sister often called me paranoid because of my antics, but I like to think that they keep me safe. For example, my sister was almost taken because of how little she paid attention, but that wouldn't be me. I stuck the nozzle into my tank and began filling up, all the while keeping my eyes on the man. I turned away to look at how much had filled up, hoping that the machine would go a little faster, but it was only barely at 10. Come on, come on, hurry up! I looked back at the man to make sure he hadn't gotten any closer, but I guess that shouldn't have been my concern at the time. His head was turned, and instead of looking at the distance, his expressionless face was positioned directly towards me. His eyes seemed almost non-existent. It was a little bit too far to see in the low light, but it still scared me. I took a quick look at the pump and urging it to move faster, but it was only at 15. I was panicking and my breathing had quickened. I wanted out so bad it was just about to pull the pump out and leave. Maybe I was being overly anxious, but that was better than being murdered. I turned back at the man, still no change, still staring at my direction. As soon as I felt the pump begin to slow, I swiped it out, closed my tank, and turned on the ignition. All while I did this, the man didn't move a single muscle. He was just staring at me. I shuddered and put my car into drive and practically sped out of the gas station. The light behind me came dimmer, dimmer, dimmer, until finally they were gone. The gas station was out of sight. That night when I got home, I was a little bit shaken. I'd gotten used to being around creeps, but tonight felt different. Maybe it was the fact that I was completely alone. Maybe it was the fact that he was practically hiding in the shadows. I could pinpoint it on a bunch of different things, but it just made me uncomfortable. Either way, I had to get it off my chest. Hello? Jenna? Claire, it's midnight. What the hell are you calling me for? Wow, thanks. I was hoping I could get a little sisterly comforting after nearly being kidnapped, but you know, that's fine. Claire, whatever you're calling about, I can almost guarantee you were not nearly kidnapped. No, I swear, you have to see this one. You know that country gas station I stopped by near your place sometimes? Yeah, why? Well, there was this guy there and, I mean, I couldn't really see his face, but he was just staring at me the whole time I was there. I heard Jenna let out a faint gasp. Hmm? Huh? What's wrong? You couldn't see his face? Yeah? Claire, I have to go. I'll call you back in a few hours, okay? Oh, sure. And with that, she just hung up. Guess I'll just wait. I put the phone down and laid on my bed. I didn't need to rest after all. I had work the next morning and couldn't let the whole ordeal keep me from sleeping. But that night was restless. I kept on waiting for Jenna to call me, but nothing would come through. It just wasn't like her to hang up. Usually we'd carry on conversations for hours, especially on topics like this. What could she be doing? Eventually, I just gave up trying to sleep. I rubbed the exhaustion from my eyes, knowing fully that I would regret this later trying to work. But I got up anyways and began to make myself some coffee. It was a few hours from dawn anyways. I might as well call this an all-nighter. I heated up the water and looked out the blinds of my fifth story apartment and noticed something. Something that chilled me to the core. The man. The same man in the same coat. Standing by the corner building again hidden from the streetlight radius. How did he know I lived here? How did he follow me? Can he see me? The last question practically answered itself, or perhaps he could read my mind. As soon as that thought slipped it, his head turned directly towards me. I immediately closed the blinds, picked up my coffee cup and walked back to my bed. I was about to pick up the phone to call Jenna to tell her what was happening. She would tell me it was nothing and to just lock my doors and go back to bed. I needed something, anything, to tell me I was just being crazy and I could stop being afraid. But calling her was only met with dialed hands. I redialed the number over and over. I had to call her. I had to get through a knock on the door. I was frozen. I was expecting absolutely no one today and it was four in the morning. I bolted to the kitchen window and just as I expected the man was no longer there. I slowly started to back away from my apartment door, another knock coming through the door as I did so. No one could possibly be trying to have a friendly conversation with me at four in the morning. Why wouldn't it just go away, go away? Another knock came through this time, more violent than the last, getting louder with each knock. I covered my head in my arms shaking from the sheer fright. My whole house felt like it was vibrating every time he knocked and it was just getting worse and worse. But finally it stopped. The silence that followed was both calming and deafening at the same time. Why did he stop? Where did he go? What was he going to do? I hesitantly lifted my head to look towards the door. It was still locked, the hallway light underneath still not shining through as the managers would not turn them on until morning. I was frightened. I immediately tried to phone Jenna again but only a dial tone came through the other end. I threw it down in frustration and crawled behind my bed. I sat in the best lit corner of my room for the rest of the night, all in lit spots seeming darker and darker the longer I sat there waiting for morning. As the hours passed and the sun rose, I began easing up until I eventually crawled out of my little corner, the door. I walked slowly to my apartment entrance hesitant to touch the knob and meet whatever was waiting for me on the other side but I hadn't heard anything for hours so he couldn't have been there anymore, right? But as I turned the knob and opened the door, the deep red puddle in the other end revealing itself more and more with every inch the door opened, I realized it didn't matter whether he was there or not. It didn't matter. Every phone call I made to her, every attempt I made at reaching her, this is where it lied. In her mangled body, her gouged out eyes, her contorted limbs. I couldn't peel my eyes away nor could I scream. Not as a neighbor finally came out and saw what was there, not as the police came in, not as they pulled me away. Never. Even as I was carried to the outside of the apartment building, the image, the same image that I witnessed when I first opened the door was burned into my eyes. It would never leave and it was the first thing that popped into my head every time I thought of all the hypotheticals. If I had opened the door, would she be alive? Would I be alive? If I had never even told her about what happened, would she still be with me? All of it's still a mystery to me. Three years later the police still haven't come up with anything. No surprise, I guess, when the only witness to the suspect didn't even get a look at his face. I haven't seen him since that night and I prayed to God that I never do.