So this weekend I was really supposed to stay in Munster and try to save some money butttt I was too scared to stay by myself because of The Creeper. I don’t know if I ever wrote about The Creeper but here is the story (again maybe). When Jill and I went to London we inconveniently got ourselves a flight from Dusseldorf “Weeze”. You may already know that Dusseldorf is an airport in Germany. However, Dusseldorf “Weeze” is an airport NOT in Germany, but in Holland. Weeeee I love when airports name themselves the same thing in completely different countries! HURRAAYYY, so much fun! Basically you can imagine what happened here: we arrived in Dusseldorf, Germany 2 hours before our flight only to receive the best news from the information desk- we were in the wrong place. We could take a taxi and get there in an hour and a half for a mere 160 euros. Pocket change. When I handed the driver my 80 euros, I kissed my weekend to Prague goodbye. Or so I thought.
On our way home from London we had the awesome opportunity of riding every type of public transport there is (other than a police car I suppose). We took a train to the airport, a flight to the other airport, a shuttle to the train station, a train to a train, and we were getting ready to get on our last train when we realized our current train was running 15 minutes behind. Sooooo lucky little devils that we are we miss our last train to Munster (by the way this is around 12am). As were slowing down to where we were supposed to make our connection, I watch a crazy man running up and down the aisles saying something in German but I catch one word: Munster. We are getting our bags down and walking towards the doors when we ask the conductor how we are now supposed to get to Munster. The crazy man comes back yelling out the same conductor in German. The conductor tells us we missed the train but the crazy man is going to Munster too so he will write us a voucher for a free taxi. I immediately have a bad feeling. CrazyMan has 3 camera tripods, and giant duffle bag and spastic, unnatural mannerisms. He starts talking to us in English and I immediately turn my British accent on. The usual conversation starts with him asking where we were from, what were our names, etc. I have goosebumps writing about this. “My names Sophie, that’s Michelle. We’re from London, England”. Looking back this whole scene is probably God sending me a message that it’s time to start my acting career. But back to the story- CrazyMan starts telling us about how he was in Budapest taking pictures because he is a photographer which in Sophie’s paranoid mind (my alter ego) is heard as, “I was in Budapest stalking females around your age, taking pictures without them knowing and later murdering them and taking pictures of their dead bodies”. Fun fact- in my spare time I enjoy marathons of relaxing TV shows such as CSI, Law and Order and Criminal Minds. But you would never guess, right?
Anyway, we get into the cab and my next wave of panic floods in. The taxi driver doesn’t speak English, but CrazyMan does. He asks us where in Munster we are going. Jill tells him our address, our real address, and I almost peed myself. I wanted to lie and say something like the train station, where we could take another taxi back to our dorms. He instantly replies, “Oh, I know where that is! You live right next to me! That’s the student dorms, yes, I know exactly where that is.” So just a brief review of the situation: we are now in a cab, with a driver that doesn’t speak our language, in a country where we can’t speak their language, with a creepy guy who is probably some type of sexual predator, and who just so happens to live right next to us. Yayyy uncomfortable, life-threatening situations are THE best! If I wasn’t already in panic, clenched-teeth mode, I’m now on the verge of tears. He tries to make conversation in the cab and I honestly don’t remember what I was even saying because my words weren’t matching what I was thinking. I was thinking about the potential weapons I could use at any moment.
Stab in the neck with my key? Might not puncture quick enough. Should’ve bought that mase. Jill knows how to put a guy in the sleeper hold, though, that’s good. Maybe the cab driver has a gun. But he might be in on it. He’ll probably want our money so he’ll just let The Creeper kill us. Is the door unlocked? I’d have enough time to roll out of the car and run away before he could reach across to the back seat. Note to self- buy hand knife, mase or a taser when we get back. If we get back.
The funny thing is I can remember every thought running through my head at the time, but I can’t remember where I left my cell phone every other 5 minutes. CrazyMan asks about where we had been and starts going off about London. Where abouts did we live there? Why were we studying abroad in Germany if we didn’t speak German? Why was our study abroad so short? Were we undergraduate students or graduate? Converted into Sophie’s brain as: I know you’re not from London so now I want to know where you are really from. It’s funny how easy it’s going to be to kill you because you’re in unfamiliar territory. I need to act quickly because you’re going back to wherever you’re from soon. If you are undergrads, you must be young.
Funny how you’re mind can play such tricks on you.
To sum up the story, CrazyPsychoScaringTheCrapOutOfMeMan keeps talking even after I pretend to sleep, going off about how he used to work in a circus in Paris- WTF!???? Fortunately, he gets dropped off first and then proceeds to come over to my window, KNOCK ON IT TO GET MY ATTENTION, and wave goodbye. We drive 5 seconds and get dropped off at our dorm where I had an entire plan to walk to a different building, wait, and later go into our dorm and not turn any lights on (because clearly he was going to linger and see which halls I went down so that he can find me later). But, once we got out of the cab all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball in my bed so Jill and I went straight to our rooms. There I proceeded to barricade my door with my desk chair, look for possible weapons around my room and place them next to my bed. I had a plastic knife, my computer, and mug that I could smash him over the head with. I knew I was doomed. I stayed up talking to my dad on Skype- thank God he was on because I was having more than a panic attack at this point. I tried to go to sleep with classical music on but every time I closed my eyes I pictured him standing over my bed with a knife (I know I’m crazy but I’ve never been so scared in my life). I had to turn the music off at one point because I felt like it was droning out important background noises such as his footsteps coming towards my door, or the car engine he would shut off before he got there. World’s most paranoid female right here.
Basically the point of this story is that I am still scared he is going to find me. So much so that I’ve saved a document on my computer titled “Creeper” with descriptions of what he looked like. In case I ever go missing the police will find it and easily identify him. I know I’ve watched way too many murder mysteries but I can just picture him waiting in his car every time we come home at night, following me to my room and since we are all in completely different rooms/floors/buildings WITHOUT PHONES it makes it that much easier to panic/get abducted.
I could not stay there by myself for the entire weekend.
Thus, I went to Prague.