As you walk home from volleyball practice, you feel like someone is following you. In fact, you’d noticed it ever since you left practice, but you don’t react because it’s become routine for you—there have even been times when you thought it was just your imagination. You kept walking

On this dark night, at 10:30 p.m., something you never thought would happen is about to happen: you finally meet your stalker. Wide-open eyes, a disheveled appearance, and a hunched posture. Suddenly, he appeared right behind you, towering imposingly

“Oh, good evening, miss,” the stalker says to you in a tense voice, breathing heavily. He didn’t have the typical look of a stalker—a totally sick and maniacal guy—he was just unkempt, had deep dark circles under his eyes, and was breathing too heavily.

“You’ve finally noticed...”