Now, I'd noticed something a bit weird in the past few weeks. Everyday when I was walking home from the bus a car would be right next to me. The windows were tinted, so I couldn't see who was inside, and it's paint was a sleek black color. If I'd been able to see the man inside, I would have recognized him as an avid follower on my social networking accounts (MySpace, Facebook, etc). But I couldn't see him, and I never really thought too much about it. A lot of strange people live in New Jersey.
I was walking along the sidewalk in our development, where my friend lived as well, when someone called my name. "Hey, Madison!" I turned to look who was calling me, and as soon as I saw him I looked away. He was easily 6'2", with a muscular build that only added to his intimidation. His black hair was shaped in an Afro, and a smirk was set on his lips. And he was as naked as the day he was born, standing right outside his door for anyone to see. "Why don't you come on in here?" His suggestive tone and words were met with the stomping of my feet as I ran away from him as quickly as I could.
Up until that point, I had thought nothing of the man who liked every one of my twelve year old pictures. I hadn't thought that there was anything wrong with the fact that he commented on nearly every status update and picture. Up until that point, I hadn't known just how dangerous the Internet was.
