Woman Meets Serial Killer: Bone Chilling Details

I have a story about meeting a serial killer. It is nuts. But it is true. Here it is.

This happened in the spring of 1997. I was in sixth grade.

Every day after school, I played basketball at the Panhandle park near my house.

One day, the park was emptier than normal after school. I usually practiced on the half courts, but the full court was open, so I felt pumped.

I went there, trying to look like Michael Jordan. Then I noticed a guy watching me.

He looked older, an adult, yet still young. He wore a long, dark green coat and stood on the sideline between the grass and the court.

I tried to ignore him. If you know the Panhandle in San Francisco, you know there are always strange people around, sketchy, but not dangerous.

Plus, I was excited about having the whole court to myself. I did not want to give it up yet.

But the guy kept staring. Soon, he walked from the sideline and stood under the basket. I got annoyed, but when I looked at him, he looked sad.

I am not stupid. So I started packing my things to leave.

Then he stopped me. "Hey, you are really good," he said. I mumbled a thanks and walked toward my bike, which sat a few feet away.

He called out, "You should keep practicing." I was almost at my bike and for some reason, I turned around. I do not know if I was curious, annoyed, or anything else.

Then he said, "Here is a dollar."

This guy is super sketchy.

A dollar is real American currency; it buys two Baby Ruths.

Should I ignore the guy and keep doing what I was doing?

Every adult told me my whole life that taking things from a stranger is dangerous because that person could be a serial killer.

Also, I like sugar. A dollar would let me buy that sugar.

In moments, I did the math: Yes, I could die in this empty park.

But there are two big streets bordering the park: Fell on one side, Oak on the other. If he tries anything, someone will hear my scream, right?

I ran up and took the dollar from the guy, barely looking at him. Then I hopped on my bike and sped away.

I did not think much of it until months later. I saw a manhunt for a guy doing a cross-country murder spree.

Then, on the news, there was his mugshot. It was the same guy who gave me a dollar. His name is Andrew Cunanan.

I am freaking out now. I tell my friends, which is what 11-year-olds do in emergencies.

I remember being in the yard at Roosevelt Middle School and telling my friends, "Yoooo! I met that serial killer guy on the news. He gave me a dollar and told me I was good at basketball!"

No one believed me.

Even now, they think I am making this up. When I heard about the new Versace movie, I texted one of my best friends, a woman I have known since sixth grade.

Her reply:pic.twitter.com/I9uRjpUC4R

Believe your friends when they tell you crazy things happen. Otherwise, they will post you on Twitter.@dreab839

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