I'm 22 and I've never taken my door off the latch for a reason.

I could have died my senior year of high school. <br><br>I woke up on a sunny Saturday morning in June, the day after my high school graduation, to the sound of a knock at the door. <br><br>I groggily got out of bed and made my way to the door, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, stumbling along the way.<br><br>As I made my way closer to the door, the knocks got louder, more persistent. I didn't even bother checking the peephole, I just opened the door to see a six foot, scrawny man with shaggy black hair and a scruffy beard. <br><br>I'm not exactly sure why I opened the door. This man was obviously my sisters boyfriend, but I didn't recognize him, and with the way he was banging on the door, I had to open it. <br><br>When I opened the door, I was expecting him to start yelling at me for taking so long; he had this cocky smirk on his face. He took a deep breath before speaking, saying "I'm here to see your sister, is she here?". <br><br>I rubbed my eyes again; my sister doesn't have a boyfriend, my sisters at camp, and I'm still half asleep. <br><br>I could feel my face turning red with anger. This was someone I had never met before, and he's just showing up unannounced? Yeah, no. <br><br>I wanted to tell him to get out, to leave the premises or I was calling the police. But he looked familiar, and I couldn't pinpoint where I had seen him. <br><br>I tried to play it cool, telling him that "I don't know who you are, but you can leave now or I'll call the police." <br><br>My words rung through the hallway, and he took a step forward. He grabbed my wrist and leaned in closer to me. My heart pounded and I tried to wriggle my hand out of his cold, sweaty grasp. <br><br>He looked me dead in the eye and whispered "You don't know me? Pray you never have to." <br><br>My sister had never mentioned this man, and I had never seen him before, but my sisters always been very particular about the guys she dates. So I was taken aback by this. <br><br>I was frozen in fear, trying to wrestle my hand out of his cold grasp. I didn't want this man to touch me, I could tell he was volatile. <br><br>I swallowed the lump in my throat hard and tried to speak. I finally managed to wriggle my hand free and stumbled backward, slamming the door shut. <br><br>I locked the door and ran up to my room, calling the police. <br><br>When I looked out the window, I saw him walking away, a backpack of some sort on his shoulders, dressed in a black leather jacket. <br><br>I was confused; who was this man? Why was he so interested in seeing my sister? And why was he at my house? <br><br>I didn't get much sleep that night; tossing and turning with worry. The next morning, I decided to confront my sister about it. <br><br>When my sister got home from camp, she was confused and a bit irritated. She told me she had never met this man, and he was just some crazy guy with a crush on her. Apparently, he had been showing up at random places she frequented and watching her from afar. <br><br>Looking back, it was so obvious. I didn't even let the police finish taking down my report. <br><br>I brushed it off, thinking she was just some weird guy trying to break into the house. <br><br>Don't know what would have happened if I had let him in. <br><br>I don't know what you want to call this man, but to me, he is the man I will never meet again.<br><br>Edit: I had to edit this because I accidentally put she's 22 when I meant to say I'm 22. Its been 4 years since this happened and I still look behind me and lock my doors hoping no one's following my or waiting for me to come out.