It was November 1st in the year of 2018. The sun had set, but it wasn’t even 7 o’clock yet. I walked cautiously through the once packed but now sketchy part of Chinatown, making sure to not attract any attention on my way to meet up with my parents. Businesses were closed, and restaurants were wiping down their tables for the night. The only people left on the street vanished as I passed the last touristy spot – except for one man.
This man was dressed in a blue sleeveless hoodie and shorts. He had a beard and mustache, and was around my height. I first caught sight of him when he approached in the opposite direction – my gut told me that something about him was off. I wrapped my hand firmly around the keys in my pocket, ready to pull it out in case he attacked (my second option would be to use my lunch bag).
Right as we crossed paths, he turned around and started walking beside me. I didn’t dare to turn my head. Is this a coincidence? Could he have just realized he was walking in the wrong direction? I immediately did a test. I purposely slowed down to let him pass. He slowed down too. I sped up, and he followed suit. Even our steps were in sync. It was no coincidence – he was following me, closely.
I remained calm as I kept walking down the dimly lit sidewalk. Should I turn back and ask for help? Are there others hiding in the dark, waiting to attack? It was too late to turn back. We were already almost a block away from when I last saw people, and I wasn’t sure I could outrun this man or if strangers would believe me. I didn’t want to risk letting this man know that I am aware he is following me – he might attack right away. I needed a better plan.
I saw a bakery up ahead, with the lights still on. Maybe I can ask for help in there, I thought, but as we got closer I saw that there was only one employee inside, with his back turned towards the door. The door was set back from the street so I would have to go out of my way to get there, but what if they are already closed and I can’t get in? What if the employee walks into the kitchen? I’d be locked outside with the man and my cry for help would be exposed.
The man started mumbling to himself. I gripped my keys tighter. I couldn’t figure out what he was saying, or if it was even in English, but I knew I needed to figure out how to get help. There was scaffolding up ahead, with the street light barely shining through. Don’t panic, I told myself. I walked right under the scaffolding and he walked on the outside, so I slowed down to give myself more time to think while there was this barrier between us. How do I call my parents? I couldn’t take out my phone while walking because I needed to stay alert and observant. What other businesses will I walk by that are still open? The bakery was the last one. Should I stop somewhere to call for help or should I take the risk and walk the rest of the way? The walk up the minor street would take only 2 minutes, but is even darker and has tall bushes and no cars – nobody would know if anything happened to me.
There was only one thing I could do. I reached the last intersection and stood at the corner, next to the light pole. The corner was brightly lit, with a decent number of cars driving by. If anything happens, I will run out into the street and stop the cars, or grab on to the pole if I get dragged.
I put a smile on my face and casually pulled out my phone to call my mom. She didn’t pick up. I called my dad. He didn’t pick up. Why aren’t they picking up? If I take any longer to make calls, the man may get suspicious. I dialed my mom’s number again, and luckily, she answered. On the downside, apparently they weren’t even on their way yet – it would take them at least another 20 minutes to get to me. Great.
The man paced back and forth a few feet in front of me as I spoke to my mom in Chinese on the phone. He kept looking at me as he started smoking, so I made sure to add a few laughs on the call, just in case. I debated on whether to call the police, but if I did, would I have to tell my story in English? Would the man attack if he knew? How long would I have to wait for the police to show up? What if the man runs away before the police comes?
Twelve minutes passed, and still, no sign of him leaving and no sign of my parents. I didn’t want to spend another minute with this man. Part of me was hoping that someone driving by would notice that something is wrong and step out to help, but nobody did. I continued checking my surroundings in case a group of people attacked from behind. As I looked across the street, and my heart leaped. I saw a familiar face – an old friend’s dad, who is a parishioner at my church. This was my chance.
“Excuse me! Excuse me!” I called after him in Chinese. He didn’t respond, which is understandable. We’ve actually never interacted. I’m not sure if he even knows who I am.
“He’s ignoring me!” I tell my mom urgently. “It’s Kat’s dad! He doesn’t recognize me! He’s walking away!”
At this point, the man knew I was calling for help – I was yelling at both my friend’s dad and my mom, and you can tell from the sound of my voice that I was desperate. The man seemed slightly alarmed, but also noticed that my cry for help was not acknowledged. Fear took over my body. I couldn’t give up now. I ran after my friend’s dad, trying to get his attention while updating my mom on what is happening. The man ran after me.
My friend’s dad finally heard his daughter’s name and turned around. He pulled me to the side, and the man stood inches behind me. I couldn’t keep my composure. Tears streamed down my face as I told him about the man behind me. He nodded as he listened, and thankfully he believed me. He walked me to his car and drove me the rest of the way to church, where I was meeting my parents. My hands shook uncontrollably, and tears continued pouring even as I sat on the pew, safe from the man and waiting for Mass to start on this All Saints’ Day. I never looked back.