The freaky Monday incident

She parked her car at the usual spot. She adjusted the rear-view mirror, so she can touch up on her make up. She turned off the ignition, readjusted the mirror and noticed someone was standing at the back of her car. He was looking directly at her and his eyes were as red as fire, like someone who’d just finished smoking a strong joint. He looked angry, deranged, agitated, mad and in a hurry. She quickly looked away and scanned the carpark – it was early, dark and extremely cold and deserted – she was regretting her decision to take an earlier train.

She began to put on her jacket slowly and glanced at her left-hand mirror to see the man still there. She wondered who he was and what he wanted. She put her keys between her fingers like she’d been taught in the self-defence classes she attends every Friday evening. She got out of the car ever so cautiously. The second she pushed the door shut, the man stood next to her, a stupid grin on his face. He smelled awful – it was like he spent the night in the dumpsters of Peckham high street eating their contents.

“Hi there!” he said and widened the stupid grin. On closer look his eyes looked empty and distant and for a second she felt sorry for him.

“Hi.” She replied as she secured her handbag over her head and under her right arm. She tightened the grip on the keys.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

Her first thought was to ask why and who was asking or a smart-ass answer in those lines, but she didn’t want to make him desperate.

“My name is Amanda.” She lied. What’s yours?”
“Stephen.” He said as he extended his hand for a handshake.
She was hesitant, besides she had her defence weapon aka the keys in the hand shaking hand.
“I’m a germophobe, I don’t shake hands, sorry.” She lied. He laughed nervously.

She started walking towards the train station and was glad to see more people away from the car park. It was still very dark: she hated winter. She hurried her steps and looked back to see Stephen talking loudly to an imaginary person. He was either arguing with or telling him off. She couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but she was glad she was away from the creep.

She told a colleague the events of that morning, but he didn’t look that bothered. “You have to be careful out there.” She knew that of course, and decided not to pursue the matter or worry about it too much, her job was demanding enough.

She didn’t think about Stephen until she saw him standing next to her car in the dimly lit station car park. She had a bad feeling and walked back to the station. She spoke to a traffic policewoman who offered to walk her to the car. Stephen was no where to be seen. She got in her car and locked it straight away, started the engine, turned down the music and upped the heating as she was not only shaking from the cold but from fear. As she drove out of the carpark she looked behind and all around and couldn’t see Stephen. At the first traffic lights, she exhaled deeply and a her breathe misted the windscreen. She reached into her handbag to retrieve some tissues, and in the one second it took, Stephen pounced on her bonnet.

She let out a blood curdling scream and floored it.

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