This unasked for “help” has an even murkier side at times. I experienced it one afternoon around the corner from my home. A man introduced himself as Matthew, and asked for directions to the train station, which I gave. He praised me for my independence: a blind person, out by herself, and so confident.
Then he asked how old I was and where I lived. Obviously I was getting uncomfortable. I lied through my teeth, and walked away. That was when he ran, and grabbed me from behind. I screamed for help, and kept running. That was all.
Except it wasn’t.
In the following days, I thought a lot about what had happened.