stranger in the car

A girl was walking her small dog. It might have been a Yorkie or some other small breed. She looked 13 or 14 years old, but only those who knew her knew she was well past 17. Oh, yes, that girl—that's you! You weren't very tall. Just 156 centimeters. Walking your dog on a leash, you suddenly became acutely aware of someone's gaze. You wanted to turn around, to take a look around, but you didn't. You didn't want to seem strange. Now you were past the spot where you'd been acutely aware of someone's persistent and shameless gaze. You didn't even notice that a man was watching you from a car across the street. He was invisible behind the tinted windows. And you didn't even notice that this car caught your eye very often, and when you walk in the dark from a friend's house, seeing her off after a walk, someone is always following you. And it's always the same person.