Let's Not Meet Again

Never Be The Last Person To Leave The Dog Park. Followed By The Smiling Man

Last week, I took my dog to this fenced dog park. I try to go around 5 or 6, because that's when most people get off work and bring their dogs, so there's a large amount of dogs for my puppy to socialize and play with. It rained earlier in the day, but stopped, so I was surprised to see only one person in the dog park. I knew both him and his dog, and we chatted for a bit while our dogs chased each other around.

Also worth mentioning, the atmosphere was just so creepy. A low, thick fog covered the entire dog park. It was that horrible weather that's somehow both humid and cold, just a dreary, rainy fall day. It wasn't that dark yet, so when the guy and his dog left, I decided to stay for a while and play fetch with my dog.

Mistake #1.

I throw the ball around for a bit, and on one throw, something caught my eye. There was a man, in all black, hood up, standing at the fence, completely still, facing towards me. I couldn't see his face, so I don't know if he was looking at me. I tried to brush it off, as 'maybe he's just watching us play fetch,' I do have a 5 month old puppy, after all, who is adorable and draws a lot of attention from strangers. I threw the ball in his direction a few more times so that I could glance at him to see if he would move on. No. He never did.

At that point, I started to get pretty freaked out. I didn't want to stay, alone, in a dog park with only one entrance. It was significantly darker at this point as well. I really, really wanted to get out of there, but in order to leave, I'd have to walk past this man. You have to walk the length of the dog park on this path in order to get to where you park. Walking past him was the only way out.

So I gather my stuff, and begin to leave. I walk to the entrance, glancing at him every few seconds, and he's still standing completely still, but now he's turned more towards me. I took out my phone and pretended to be talking to someone, saying things like "I'll be there in 20 minutes. 15? What? That's too soon! Ok dad, I'll try."

The moment I left the dog park, he turned and started walking away, towards the parking lot. I was relieved, but only for a moment. He wasn't walking, he was... shuffling? Only a few feet at a time. Then he would stop completely. Turn around and look at me, and then keep going. Repeat. 3 or 4 times.

Then his walking changed. He started throwing his head back, looking up at the sky, repeatedly, rhythmically, and taking HUGE strides forward, his movements very bizarre, an exaggerated tip-toe-like walk. If you've ever read The Smiling Man on , it reminded me of that. Like, EXACTLY like that, except he was moving slow, not fast. The moment he started doing it, that story was the first thing to pop into my head. And still, every 5, 10 feet or so, he would look back at me.

I was walking behind him, slowly, in the same direction towards my car. Needless to say I was pretty much 100% convinced I was going to be raped, stabbed, robbed, kidnapped, whatever. I was scared to death. My whole body was tense and cold. I've never felt that kind of fear in my entire life, like deep, horrible, pit of your stomach, 'I could die tonight' fear. Then, suddenly, he turns sharp, and runs into the trees alongside the path. I took this opportunity to pick up the pace, and passed the spot where he had ran into the trees.

Mistake #2.

Barely seconds after I passed him, I hear a rustling, and he's coming out of the trees. Behind me. Fast. No longer walking like the smiling man. A fast, curt power walk, straight at me.

This is where I noped the fuck out and just started sprinting. (side note: my puppy was clueless to everything and was having a great fucking time. oh boy, running! he's useless.) I was only about 30 yards from my car. I scooped up my dog (not an easy feat to do while running, he's 40 pounds) and jumped in the driver's seat, started my car, locked the doors, and peeled out of there as fast as I could. As I was backing up out of my parking space, the lights shined for just a second on the man, who was standing at the end of the path/beginning of the parking lot, completely still, just staring.

I may or may not have called my mom and cried the entire way home. (I did.) I was so shaken up, I didn't want to walk around at night for a few days. Even writing this has made me incredibly uncomfortable. I've told people that I frequently see there about the encounter, and now I make sure that I am never the last person in the dog park.

Creepy, imitating smiling man? Let's never meet. Ever.