8 min read

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Jul 6, 2025

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The Red Car theory states that once you notice something, you start seeing it everywhere. For example, if you want to make a new hairstyle, you suddenly start seeing many people with that hairstyle. Or if you have a certain color in mind, say yellow, your brain will start focusing on yellow things.

My problem with this theory is that the moment you say, “I don’t think it’s just my brain,” people think you’ve gone mad. My friends said it was probably paranoia, but I know what I saw. What I was seeing.

A man in a green baseball cap.

I had seen him three times before today. And now he’s about to kill me.

Alice invited me to her impromptu birthday party at her place. Her birthday was the previous day, but she must’ve had some kind of rude awakening about your birthday being only once a year, so she put something together quickly and invited a few friends. I thought it was reckless to suddenly throw a party on a Tuesday night, like, do you guys not have work in the morning? But she’s always been supportive of me, so I couldn’t miss it.

I went to the party straight from work because I didn’t have time to go home and get changed into proper party regalia. Plus it’s a freaking Tuesday night with a small gathering of adults. I couldn’t possibly be the worst-dressed attendee.

On getting to Alicia’s house, I realized I was wrong about two things: 1) I was the worst-dressed, and 2) Alicia doesn’t fully grasp the concept of numbers or collective nouns because these weren’t “a few friends” at all.

This had me feeling silly for not taking a party outfit with me to work because, compared to these people, I looked like I came to deliver pizza. Well, all I needed to do was make an appearance anyway. I would be en route to my house soon.

So I found Alice, gave her the gift I got her, and told her I would soon be on my way. She was glad I could come but bummed that I couldn’t stay for the afterparty. Wow, an afterparty. They must definitely be jobless.

After hanging around for a few minutes, I said my goodbyes and headed to my car. On approaching the car, I saw the green baseball cap guy. He was leaning on the driver’s seat door, smoking a cigarette. Ew. If he were leaning on any other door, I would’ve just gotten in and driven off because I was not in the mood for human interaction. But I had no choice.

“Excuse me, I need to get in,” I demanded, after a few seconds of him acting like I wasn’t there.

He didn’t flinch. “I’ve been watching you all night.”

“Sorry, do I know you?”

“Stop with the act, I know you remember me. I just came to make a little appearance before our big day.”

That sounded more like a threat than a little appearance.

“Sorry, who are you?” I asked, but he just smirked and walked away.

This is why you shouldn’t party on a work night, guys.

I got in the car and headed home, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the strange encounter. I mean, I’d had my share of strange encounters in the past, but something about this one felt very…unsafe.

It was too dark for me to even see his face clearly, so there was no way I would recognize him if I saw him anywhere else. Hopefully, he was just a drunk guy ticking something off his bucket list.

I was rounding up my evening workout at the gym beside my office when I noticed him. Or it. The green baseball cap. On the head of a man at the corner of the gym. Come to think of it, he’d been at that corner for a couple of minutes now, not exactly working out.

Or was I just reaching?

But the thing about being someone who loves routines is that you subconsciously make mental notes of the people at all the places you frequent. The regulars at your regulars. And I don’t recall any regular owning a green baseball cap.

Okay, now I sound crazy. Anyone could own a green baseball cap for Christ’s sake. I mean, it’s a gym where people wear sports wear, so there should be nothing to worry about. Right?

If I’m going to be followed around by someone, I might as well find out what they look like in case I notice them following me again. So I’d know for sure. As I was leaving, I looked at him, trying to capture his face, but he turned away the exact moment I could’ve caught it.

Since the gym thing happened, I’ve gotten jumpy and extra careful, and I even checked online for nearby locksmiths. I’ve also stopped going anywhere at night.

I told Alice about the first two encounters, and she’s certain they’re not the same person. Her exact words were, “Brie, there are a thousand green baseball caps in NYC.” She had a point, but I just keep having this feeling that I’m being watched.

Unfortunately, being paranoid doesn’t stop you from being an adult who does chores and runs errands themselves. So I still had to do my usual Sunday grocery shopping.

I was waiting in line to pay when I saw the man in the green baseball cap standing at the bookshelf about three checkpoints away.

Our eyes met for a split second, then he hurriedly dropped the book he was holding and walked back into the aisles like he forgot something.

I dropped my basket impulsively and followed him. I turned into the aisle he walked into the same moment he turned into another one. And I was about to follow him into it when I stopped in my tracks.

Have I gone mad? I’m following a random man whom I’m not sure is the person I think he is. If I successfully get hold of him, what will I say? “Hello, kind sir, are you by any chance the man I met in front of my car some days ago, who is now possibly stalking me?”

Who was I kidding? I went back to the now-empty line, picked up my basket, checked out and got the hell out of there.

It’s been two days since the supermarket incident, and I’ve gotten more anxious. Always watching my back, and locking and unlocking doors more hastily than usual.

The locksmiths are coming to change my locks today. I’m meant to call them when I get home, which should be very soon because it’s some minutes after 6pm and I’m leaving work.

I’m not sure how changing my locks would help, but it’s a viable solution and it’ll probably make me feel a bit safer. Safe. A feeling that now seems so out of reach.

I used to think the underground parking lots were cool and always wanted to park in the one at my office, but since the incident, I now hate them. Because they’re usually dimly lit and scary. And I hate that I couldn’t find parking space at the top today.

I step out of the elevator, car key in hand, and head to my car. It’s parked about a 40-second walk away from the elevator.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me. My heart jumps out of my chest, and my legs feel like an electric current is coursing through them.

It takes me a second to register that the footsteps aren’t just walking towards me, they’re marching. So I gradually hasten my steps till I’m running. And the footsteps start running after me too.

I’m realizing I’d still have to unlock my car and get in. Yup, I won’t make it. I mean, my car key does have an automatic button-unlocking thing, but lately the sensor has been having issues so I’ve had to manually unlock it for a few days now.

I’m running faster now, and so are they. I’m almost at my car, but I can feel them closing in on me. I’m pressing the car key button repeatedly like a maniac. God please, God please, God please.

A car light blinks. God, thank you.

I pull at the door handle at the same time the chaser pulls at my hair. I’m holding on to the door handle for my dear life and screaming on top of my voice.

“HELP ME!”

They flip my head around and slap me hard across my face.

“Shut up or I will not make this quick”

I’m feeling slightly dizzy from the slap, and my vision is blurry, but as soon as my pupils readjust, I see it. The green baseball cap. I knew it.

But I don’t know him. I don’t know this person. His face is not even vaguely familiar.

He pushes me to the ground to sit on the floor and lean against the car door. Then he squats so we’re almost at eye-level. “Hi Anna, we meet again”

“Who is Anna? I’m not Anna. Please.” I whimper.

He laughs maniacally. “Oh, you go by a different name now? You think after killing my father, you can just run off and start a new life?”

This is not how I imagined I’d die. Not by a serial killer. And definitely not by one who has mistaken me for someone else.

He stands up and is saying something about strangling me to death with the rope he’s pulling out of his jacket.

Thankfully, ever since this psycho started following me, I’ve kept a pen knife on me. Tonight, it’s in my back pocket. And maybe rage is clouding his vision because he doesn’t notice when I slip it into my right hand. Sweat trickles down my spine as I wait for him to crouch again.

Some seconds later, after completing his speech, he squats to finish me off with the rope, I assume.

I mutter a quick prayer under my breath and move my hand swiftly across his throat.

According to the “We Meet People Twice” theory, if someone is meant to be in your life, you will meet them not once, but twice. Theories must be from the pit of hell because I met this person four times, and they almost ended my life.

All I could think of as I drove out of the underground parking lot with my heart racing, blood on my face, clothes, and hands was that I needed to call her.

I frantically searched for my phone in my bag while trying to focus on the road. I dialled her number. Please pick up.

It rang twice, then I heard her voice, “Brie?”

“Anna. I think they found us.”