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Stalked & Raped

I’m not going to tease you, baby.
I could chub this up with my fear, paranoia and the habit of constantly peaking over my shoulder all clusterfucked into a week before what happened. But you don’t want to hear about that…unless my fear is what is going to get that hand of yours down your pants. Yet, if you really don’t want to hear all that…skip down to paragraph three. I won’t be angry, I promise.

Like I said, it started last week. I’ve been alone in my house since my parents went on vacation. That’s when all the weird shit started. I’d open my window and see the same hoodied guy staring, watching me every night. When I first noticed him I was disgusted, ‘How many times have I gotten undressed with the window open’, I wondered, feeling violated. Nights went by as he continued to watch me. I was never quite sure when or where he came from. Just, every time I opened my window at night-there he was, standing. I couldn’t see his face but I knew he was looking at me and that was enough to make me take a step back. But one night was different; I had just gotten out of the shower and found him, once again standing in front of my window. Instead of calling the police (which I was originally going to do) I kind of suddenly felt bad for the guy. Poor thing had nothing better to do then try to sneak a peek at me. So, I pretended to not notice him as I rubbed lotion on my naked skin-still wet from the shower. I guess I was hoping that the sight of my oily tits being squeezed would brighten his day, maybe make him feel lucky enough to go ask a girl out instead of peeking at me. When I looked back out the window, he was gone. And he didn’t come back. However, as if in his place, I would feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

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