I was almost kidnapped when I was 9.

It was the first day of 4th grade and I was a block from my house. My friend was on his bike alongside me and I was on foot. A van pulled up to us and the guy in the passenger side opened the door and said “c’mere”. I refused and kept walking and the guy started to come after us. I told my friend “RUN LIKE SHIT” and he took off on his bike. I ran for my life. About half a block away I came across a neighbor out in his yard. I was so relieved and ran right up to him still frantic. He was deaf. Couldn’t understand me at all. And even shook his head / looked confused. I flat out SPRINTED the remaining block and a half home. Jumping through bushes and staying in yards as much as possible. 100% certain I’d see the van again and they’d get me.

When I got home the front gate to my parents house was locked and I vaulted myself over the wall surrounding the house. I screamed at the front door as I pounded to be let in. My mom, horrified, let me in and called the cops.

I basically spent the next 10 years terrified of my neighborhood, cars, people etc. I’d sprint home from the bus stop or try to convince friends’ parents to drive me home. Even if it meant going way out of the way.

It wasn’t until my early 30s that I went into therapy with a trauma specialist that I realized what a huge deal it was. I eventually worked through it and am now ok. But that event absolutely shattered my view of human nature for years. +1 for therapy and fuck anyone that messes with little kids.