After Her!

Story Submitted by Sarah:

Roger and I met on an Internet dating site.  I didn't normally respond to most messages, but his were just the right mix of funny and dopey/sweet, so we progressed to phone calls and finally he asked me out for a Friday evening.

His first question was, "Want to come over to my apartment?"  I wasn't too into the idea of such a thing for a first date, and I told him so.  He asked a second time, and I again was pretty firm in my request for a different meeting place.

He picked a park, and so a park it was.  We met there and walked a few blocks when, surprise surprise, we happened to be walking right past his apartment building.

He begged and pleaded to bring me inside.  "We won't even go into my place.  I want to show you something way better."

I made him tell me what he had in mind, and he said that he wanted to bring me up to the roof.  It was one of the taller buildings in the area and it was growing dark.  It struck me as an unusual opportunity.

When we made it to the top floor in the elevator, we entered a stairwell and walked up a flight.  He opened the rooftop door for me. 

I stepped onto the roof and looked around.  It was a nice view.  I looked for Roger, but he wasn't behind me.  The door had shut.  I tried to open it.  It wouldn't open.  I banged on it and yelled.

Roger's voice on the other side said, "Now don't you wish you were in my apartment instead?  I told you that we should've gone there.  Now look at you."

I could have panicked and screamed at him, but I lied back, "I was going to go back with you to your apartment, but only after dinner.  I had to know a bit more about you first."

No reply for what seemed like a year.  Then, the door opened slightly.

I shoved it open, smashing it into his face.  He yelled as I ran down the stairs, jumping down as many as I could, and pushing open a door on maybe the seventh or eighth floor.

I stomped down the hall, hoping that someone would open a door.  There was another stairwell at the other end, and I ran for it.  I heard him behind me.

When I smashed into the new stairwell, I ran upstairs a flight and a half and stopped running.  A moment later, he burst in and ran downstairs, as I hoped he would.  I ran up two more flights, entered another hallway, hid for twenty minutes in a small lounge area, then took the elevator down and ran out of the building.

He texted me, "What the hell was that about?  Where are you?"

A minute later, another text from him: "WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?"

I was well on my way home.  Luckily, he didn't know where that was.  That night, I received an e-mail from him telling me how lucky I was that he wasn't going to press charges for "assaulting" him.  I never answered anything he wrote, and since then (three years ago), I haven't heard from him.