Real Encounters

*Guy who liked my Santa hat turns out to be a sex trafficker*

So before I tell my story let me set the scene. This happened a few years ago back. I'm an average looking girl and at the time I was in my early 20s. I'm fair skinned, and back then I had long wavy dark brown hair - maybe I was pretty if you squinted. I'm just above average height for a girl and have a pretty average build. This stuff isn't that important, at least not yet.

It was Christmas time and I was coming home from work. I hate working during the Christmas season, being in customer service is the absolute worst because no matter what happens it's always your fault. I had just worked the last ten days straight and was looking forward to the next day because I was off, which was why I wanted to get home so badly. At my work we wear Santa hats in addition to our regular uniform for some festive cheer. Normally I take my hat off when I'm on my way home, but on this day I was feeling lazy. I'm not sure if the hat had anything to do with what happened, but maybe it did.

I commute to and from work because I don't have a car and parking is super expensive. I was waiting at the train station looking at my phone when a middle aged Middle Eastern man approaches me.

"Hello," he said. He had a very heavy accent.

I glanced up from my phone. I didn't really want to talk to anyone. I had spent the last several days doing nothing but be around people, and honestly I had had enough. All I wanted was to be a hermit and drink a bottle of wine or two, but for some reason I responded. "Hi."

"I like your hat."

"Thanks," I looked back at my phone. I could still feel the man's eyes on me but decided to ignore it. Hopefully he would get the hint and move on. It's not that uncommon to say hello to people at the station, so I didn't think much of it.

I could still feel his eyes on me though, which was why I was so grateful when the train finally came. I got on and moved to one of the cars in the back as they usually have more room. As soon as I sit down though the man appears in front of me.

"Can I sit?" he indicated to the seat next to me.

"Okay." I should have said no, but I was tired. I didn't have any energy left in me to argue about anything. I then looked back down at my phone.

My creepo meter hadn't been hit by this point, but I was a little uncomfortable. I'm a big fan of personal space, especially since you don't get that when you have a customer service job. Still I only have a 25 minute ride so I thought I could deal with it. Besides he might get off before me, and then I'd have space again.

"What did you do today?" He was looking at me again.

"I worked."

"Oh, where do you work?"

Why do people always think they can ask strangers this? I only half glanced at him and gave him the name of the grocery store I had worked at a few years ago. I wasn't creeped out but it wasn't any of his business.

"Good, good - what is your name?"

"Sarah." Sarah, isn't my name. I honestly don't even know why I said that. Sarah is the name of someone I work with and for some reason her name spilled out before I could even think about it.

I'll spare you the rest of the details about our conversation - most of it. He asked me a lot of personal questions like how long I had worked there, what I did in my free time, was I married, did I have a boyfriend and so on. The more questions he asked, the more uncomfortable I began to feel. So I lied. I told him I was engaged to someone named Tom and I wanted to work in a live theatre. I probably should have said something more boring because he seemed to like my answers.

"We should be friends," he said suddenly. "I'm from Iran. That's not the bad one. I'm not bad."

I tend to overthink things so I'm running through different scenarios in my head. Maybe he was harmless and just lonely. Maybe he had just moved here and was having problems with racism. Or maybe he had something more sinister in mind.

"Oh, okay." I said, because what else could I say?

"Do you have friends? They can be my friends too. Do you like coffee? We should go have coffee."

Throughout most of our conversation his tone had been... pleasant enough, but something about how he said that I didn't like. We talked a bit more and he kept saying we needed to be friends and that we should meet up. Then he began to ask more personal questions - like how far I had gone with Tom, and where was Tom. Then he began to talk about how I looked.

Now my creepo meter was starting to ping.

"What station do you get off? I get off at L----."

My stomach dropped. That was the stop after mine, and I really didn't want to spend any more time with this man than I already had. Besides, for some reason I just knew him knowing my train stop would be bad news.

"The next one actually," I said, and began to gather my things. "It was nice to meet you." I pushed past him and headed for the door, grateful we were just about to stop at the station.

I got off and didn't look back, I even headed down the stairs in case he was looking out the window to make it look like I was really leaving. I was halfway down the stairs when I heard the train leave again so I turned around to go back up. There he was. He was glaring at me, and while he might have looked harmless before he didn't now. For a moment all I could do was stare at him, then I realized it looked like he was holding something in one of his hands. I didn't get a chance to see what it really was, and I don't think I want to know.

I turned and ran. I could hear him behind me, I have never heard footsteps so loud before.

At this point I probably should have called the police or maybe even started screaming, but all I could think of was getting out of that station - which was mostly empty. Honestly I had probably picked the wrong station to get off at. There isn't much around this one, other than a few industrial places and at this time of night they probably wouldn't have been open.

Someone must have been looking out for me though, because just as I get to the entrance to the station I see two police officers getting into their car.

"Hey," I shout. "HEY!"

The officers looked up at me, and I sprinted over to them. The combination of stopping suddenly and the fear that had spiked through me must have given me vertigo because one of the officers had to catch me as I got to them. Somehow I managed to get out what had just happened. The officer who had caught me stayed with me while the other went to find the man. He must have seen the cops and gone down the back exit towards the parking lot because he was nowhere to be found. The officers were very nice, they said I had good intuition and was smart for not giving him any of my information. They then took me home.

It wasn't until several months later that I found out that man was part of a sex trafficking ring. He had come to my city to kidnap young women to take them to various parts the Middle East and Europe and sell them into sex. Apparently he had gone after several other girls who looked like I did. Pale, with dark brown hair. As far as I know this man was never successful, and eventually he was caught.

He had a syringe in his hand. In it was a drug he planned on using to knock his victims out. I don't know how he planned on getting me to wherever it was he was hauled up, and that's another detail I don't want to know either. I also don't know what I would have done if the police officers hadn't been there. I hope I would have been able to fight him off, or get somewhere I could call for help.

Credits: Reddit, darthsherlock