What scares me most was his smile. His proud mischievous smile, like he knew something I didn’t. Like it was all a big joke, and when I noticed I would start laughing along. I don’t know how long he was doing it; it might have been the whole time. But he seemed to find it so amusing that I didn’t catch on right away. That Cheshire cat grin, the look he gave me when I realized, the way he must have laughed when I ran. All those things scare me more than what he was doing. Because it was all a big joke to him, whether he caught me or I escaped, he had reached his goal. And it didn’t matter to him that he scarred me; that my whole life had been unhinged. That when I close my eyes that’s all I can see; that I have too see a therapist. I could tell in him smile that I was just another victim, and that’s what worries me the most.