As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 005 - Home Invasion and Other Scary Stories- 10 True Scary Stories

Episode Date: December 10, 2021

Hello and Welcome to the 5th episode of The ATRD Podcast! Today we have some intriguing and terrifying stories submitted by everyday people. In Today's Episode we will have stories about Home Invasions as well as Other Scary Situations! ➤ Want your story featured? Go to https://www.astheravendreams.com/Submit ➤ Want to know where to follow me on the internet? Go to https://www.astheravendreams.com/the-nevermore for all my links! ➤ You can also get EARLY ACCESS By joining my Patreon! https://patreon.com/astheravendreams Today's Video contains stories by the following Authors... Cyrus_TV, GuiltybutHonest, Pattywack88, Sufficient_Present63, SkeetsDatadroid, Pattywack88, & oofadoodlesmydudes ➤ All stories within are used w/ Either direct permission from the author- or under some level of CC license (where noted) True Stories are not verified, and should all be considered 'supposedly true'.  And Remember; You are loved, you are important, and you are valid. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/astheravendreams/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/astheravendreams/support Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Publié. Savoy. Admire. And profite. Villaray, the voice that we love that we love. Back in my early 20s, I lived in a house with two of my friends. We all split the cost of rent as well as the utilities, internet, and grocery bills. It was a good time, for the most part.

We all got along and respected each other's belongings. We worked different hours, though, so we typically saw each other in between shifts. I worked the earlier mornings, so I was home in the evenings, where one of my friends worked overnight, and the other was still in school, so she worked odd hours. I typically had the house to myself a few times out of the week, which was nice. It gave me time to do things that I wanted and not be interrupted, like painting, watching a movie, or just sleeping.

On this particular night, though, I'd had a long day at work and was stressed out, and ready to just go home and be left alone. I called to see if anyone was going to be home as I was planning on stopping and getting myself food, and I didn't want to be rude. And when they told me that they wouldn't be, I stopped and got myself some Chinese food and headed home. I walked in, closing the door behind me,

but I didn't lock it as we were all pretty comfortable with the area, and we left it unlocked for each other at times as well. I grabbed my bottle of wine from the kitchen and then plopped down on the couch to binge watch some shows and overindulge in my dinner. After a whole season and eating too much, I felt like doing something more productive and decided to go finish a painting that I had started. So I cleaned up, and then gathered my water and supplies that I needed and headed into my room. I typically warm. my headphones while painting, but since no one was home, I was able to just play the music through my speakers really loud. Not too long afterwards, my roommate Ella texted me saying that

one of her friends from school was going to stop by to grab a textbook, and to unlock the door for her in case I was going to bed. I responded, saying that it was already unlocked, and I continued painting. A few hours later, I heard with it sounded like the door opening and being slammed shut. I was a little annoyed at first, thinking, who comes into someone's home and slam stuff around like that? At least I wasn't sleeping, though, I guess. I didn't want to deal with them and risk them wanting to talk to me

since I wasn't feeling very social either, and I just stayed in my room. Not long after, though, I had to use the restroom, so I left my room. Now, the house is pretty small, so to get a basic layout of it, you enter through the front door, which is part of the dining room. We typically just use this as our shoes and coat hangers, as there was a built-in rack on the wall. There was also a table there, but it was more for just storage and junk mail. To the right was our only bathroom, and pretty much in between the bathroom and dining room was the kitchen, which led out into the laundry room.

On the other side of the dining room was Ella's bedroom, and then Ashley's and the living room was to the left of the front door. Now my bedroom was in the furthest back, because it was like a second living room, maybe an office space, and since I was the last to move in, well, that became my bedroom. I loved it, though, because it had beautiful bay windows and was the largest of three rooms. So I headed for the bathroom.

When I noticed the light was on, the door was closed, and I could clearly hear somebody in there. My first thought was, okay, this friend slammed the door and is now using our bathroom, which I guess was fine, but it just kind of added to my annoyance at first. Probably just because I had been in a bad mood, though. So I sighed quite loudly. and walked back to my room and waited. I actually forgot that I was waiting on the bathroom when I noticed something on my painting that I had missed,

or messed up, and I started fixing it immediately, so I didn't forget it later. Within this time, though, Ella had messaged me back saying her friend was having troubles finding our place, and asked me if I could turn on the lights and or step out onto the porch, so she knew where to go.

as you might have guessed, I first started putting on my slippers when it finally clicked, and I felt my stomach drop. Her friend had never made it to our place yet. Then who the hell was in our bathroom? I tried calling Ella, but she didn't answer, so I texted her asking her if that message was late, as it appeared that somebody was in here. I then tried calling Ashley, but she also didn't answer. I was obviously scared and I didn't know what to do.

I didn't want to be an idiot and overreact by calling the cops if it was her friend, but then I also didn't want to risk my safety or life going back out there. However, there was no way that person wasn't aware that I was here, based on my music and my loud sighing. I probably chose the stupid option and decided to check it out myself before calling the cops. I grabbed my phone, pre-dialing 911, just in case I needed to call them quickly, and walked out of my room. I looked out, out and around the living room, and into the dining room, and I didn't see or hear anyone, so I walked further. On my way into the dining room, I saw the crappy old wooden broom that Ella got that was more of a decoration than a tool.

It had an old wooden handle, and the bristles were attached to the hand. by this really heavy metal piece. I think she got it more because it was vintage-looking. I had nothing. It was the three of us girls, so that was my first option for a weapon, so I grabbed it. I made my way towards the bathroom, as I saw the light was still on, when I saw on the corner of my eye a very tall figure in our kitchen. I let out a yelp, but then quickly stopped myself,

and managed to ask the person who they were. He was facing away from me, looking directly at our fridge. He slowly turned around and asked me, Where's the milk? He was wearing an old shirt that looked like it was slowly unraveling from the bottom, and he had a huge stain toward the chest area, with a thin brown coat over it that looked really dirty, too. His voice was very scratchy and slurred, though,

so while I was still scared, I felt a little less a furtied. afraid for my life. I again asked him who he was and why he was here, when he then yelled at me, Where is the milk? This had me jump backwards, and I grabbed my phone from my pocket. All I could think to do was say that if you don't leave, I'm going to call the cops. Then he started walking towards me, so I backed up. More into the living room, and I completed the call. As I started picking up the call, the man, sat on our little bench in the dining room that we used to put our shoes or our purses on. I started talking to the operator when I heard the guy say,

I'm not in the right place. I then asked him what he had said, not sure that I heard him right, and he said, I'm sorry, and then fell on to the floor. I screamed and started waking up the guy when I stopped myself just in case, as I still didn't know who this person was. The operator told me to watch his chest or stomach to see if it moved like he was breathing, and I really couldn't tell. I wasn't sure if it was because of the coats, or if he actually wasn't breathing.

The cops and paramedics did finally show up and confirmed that he was breathing, but barely. From what I heard, it sounded like the guy was on some sort of drugs and or alcohol, which I could believe because he reeked of alcohol, but I also heard them mention his tongue being white and foamy. They got him out, and I honestly thought the guy was dead. He was just slumped over, unresponsive the whole time, so not only did some stranger break in, but also died in our home, I guess. Great.

Ashley's boyfriend was actually an EMT and heard the call to our address, and immediately called her to our address, and immediately called her to her to her. see what had happened, which then caused her to call me. But Ella's friend did finally show up while the cops were there. The guy did live, though, and we heard that it was correct. He was definitely under the influence and somehow ended up in our place, thinking it was a grocery store or something? We all decided to not press charges, but the guy was forced to go through rehab,

or something like that, because it wasn't the first time he had done, weird things like this, but it was the first time he had broken into someone's home. I'm very thankful he wasn't mean or physical, but I promise you, we always lock the door now, no matter what. And I got us all baseball bats and pepper spray, just in case. When I was younger, I always tried to be a strong and helpful son and brother. I was the oldest out of four kids with three little sisters. So I always tried to help my parents take care of them, get things they needed, stuff like that. I actually enjoyed it.

I also helped a lot because of my father's job and the amount of time he worked or was away from home. So I stepped in a lot to help when they needed something. My parents were always thankful, and when given the opportunity, they always talked well of me to others. I'm not going to lie, I didn't hate that either. Not to mention, when I did ask to do something or go somewhere, they were usually willing since I behaved and helped so much. Something that came along with my dad's job, though, was having to relocate. We had to move just about every one to two years.

Maybe that was partially why I stayed near my family, because my closest friends never lived close enough for long enough to really do anything with. So, this happened a few months after moving into our new place in Kentucky. It was an awesome house. I loved it, because it went in a complete square. From the living room, you can go one way down a hall to my parents and my twin sister's bedroom, in the bathroom or straight to the kitchen. From the kitchen, you can get to the dining room, then to what we just called the back room.

It was like a second living room or play area. There was an old couch back there, a smaller TV with our shared game consoles, and a few of my sister's toy sets. When my parents had friends over, we usually stayed back there. And from the back room, there was a set of stairs that led to my bedroom, my other sister's room and another bathroom. Continuing left from the back room takes you to the den and front door, and then from there you're back in the living room.

It was always fun running around with my sisters or when I needed to get past an area with the baby gate. It was summer vacation. I was about 14 at the time, and I had been staying up late playing a new game that I had bought with my allowance. My parents told me it was fine as long as I went to bed before midnight, which was plenty of time for me as I typically crashed around 11 or 12 anyways. So they went to bed, locked the front door,

and told me to make sure to lock the back door and close the window when I was done. We had the back window open where it was, as it was actually a little cooler than it had been, and so there was a nice breeze back there, which just added to the perfect night. After a while, though, I started hearing rustling, or walking around outside the window. At first, I thought it was the dog and that I maybe forgot to let him in, so I went to check the door, but I didn't see him. I just chalked it up to hearing things and went back to my game.

Shortly after that, though, I started hearing. that shuffling again. So I checked the door. No dog. This time, I decided to try and find her, and that's when I was a little spooked to see her laying in her dog bed in the other room. I had looked at the time on the stove, and I noticed that it was a little past midnight, and I decided that I needed to head to bed, so I went back to my game to save and turn it off.

After I turned off the game, I started to walk over to lock the door and close the window. I know, it was stupid that I didn't do that the first two times, but hey, I was a kid. When I noticed a shadow by the window. I thought it was just me being tired at the time, so I just kind of stared for a while at it to see if I could make out what I was looking at. That's when it moved across the window quickly. It made me jump at first, but then I ran to the window, closing and locking it. But I remember pressing my head against it to once again see if there was anything out there. Unfortunately, and to my horror, I could see something.

It was a man, wearing a hoodie that was pulled tightly around his face. He was standing close to the door, looking at it like he was going to try and open. so I quickly dashed to the door and locked it, too. I just stood there staring at the door, trying to figure out what exactly to do when I saw the doorknob start to move. The guy was wiggling it so hard that I was afraid he would break it, so I turned on the porch light.

This got him to stop, but I didn't see him run off, so I waited. After a few ungodly long minutes, I turned off the light and went to look out the window to see if he did finally leave. Nope. In fact, he must have known that I was there

because he walked in front of the window, smiling and pointing at me. He then tried pulling on the window to open it. These were like the long bay windows, and they didn't have the best screens on them so you could easily pull them off. I tapped on the window back, And I was shaking my head no.

I guess I was trying to be intimidating since I was the only one awake. The guy again just stopped and smiled at me and would point to the next window to try it. However, after the first time, I made sure to run around and verify that all of those windows were locked too. This, unfortunately, continued. After the three bay windows, he again had that creepy smile on his face and jumped over the porch railing. I tried to look for him, but I could no longer see him. However, it finally clicked, and I started running to the next window going around the house. The next window was the kitchen, and thankfully that one was a little taller, but the guy was still trying to open it.

I quickly climbed up on the counter to make sure it was locked, and it was, thankfully, so I saw him keep moving. Up next was the bathroom, but it didn't have a window in it, so the next room was my parents' room. I wasn't really thinking of anything other than the idea of keeping this guy out, and I busted in the room real quick, which woke up my parents. They immediately asked me what was going on, since I never go in their room, and I found it a bit hard to explain at first. So, I just kind of pointed to the window and said, there's a man. My dad immediately turned to look out the window, and my mom turned on the lamp, and began to ask me a bunch of questions. While I was trying to answer, my dad sped off out of the room. We soon saw him outside their window, and my mom told me to go into my sister's room while she went to get my other sister.

We then all gathered in the living room and my mom called the police. I tried to give a description as best as possible, but it was dark, so all I could really see was his lower face and his creepy smile. The police did a walk around a few times, and I remember them dusting for prints and maybe some other things, but, I don't think they ever caught the guy. I will say that my parents were proud of me for being as brave as I was, but I was also terrified to go to bed for months. I made sure all the doors and windows were locked. I didn't like the windows being opened after dark,

and I always had the curtains closed in my room or at night, even though my room was on the second floor. It was just hard to fall asleep when all I could think or see was this guy's face, face and him trying to break in. I did feel a little better when my dad installed cameras because it at least alerted us when someone approached, but I still have troubles to this day with thought of someone trying to break into my own place. So, a creepy guy that tried to race me to the windows to break in, let's never meet again.

This occurred back around 2004 when I was. about 13. I'm the second oldest of five kids and the only boy, and we lived in a small three-bedroom house with my mom and my dad. My older sister had a makeshift room in the basement. I had a room to myself as well, and my three youngest sisters shared a room, and then my parents had a room. The house was definitely in need of improvement. I remember that we never rearranged the living room, because we purposely had this entertainment center blocking a hole in the floor. The AC didn't always work quite right, so there were fans everywhere, and we always seemed to take turns fanning each other and fetching water with ice. The area we lived in also was not very nice,

either. We're not allowed to be outside alone without an adult, or when it got dark, because of this. There had been plenty of break-ins and robberies, so we tried to be as safe and secure as possible, but you can only do so much when the door doesn't always latch right. You had to lift the door and push really hard while trying to lock the deadbolt so that it would actually lock. I know my parents didn't own the place, and the landlord-slash-owner was cheap and never wanted to fix anything, but we may do with what we had. My parents did their best, and I never blamed them for it. They both worked full-time,

my dad typically working 12 hours a day, but because of this, us kids were typically alone when we went to bed, and my mom would get home around 10 or 11. On those nights, though, she would either make dinner early and have it in the oven for us to heat up later, or my older sister would make us something.

It was a normal routine. We'd get home, me and my sister had a key to the house. We would do our homework. My mom would call to make sure we all got home okay and tell us anything she needed us to do, have dinner, and then have a little bit of time to relax before going to bed. On this night, though, my three youngest sisters were staying at my grandparents for the weekend,

so it was just going to be me and my older sister Aubrey. Because of this, my mom left us money so we could order a pizza for us for dinner. After we ate, though, I kind of started feeling ill, so I ended up going to bed early, which ruined my plans for an almost empty house on the weekend. Aubrey came in and checked on me once to see if I needed anything, because she said she was going to go down to her room, and then, after that, there was no light under my partially open door, and it was completely silent, except for the cars you could hear passing by. I was falling in and out of sleep, as I was drinking a lot of water and having to use the restroom, so I started to get up to go when I heard a loud crashing sound.

I had no idea what it was, but I immediately started walking towards my door to see what had happened. However, as I got to it, I could see a tall figure in the living room in all dark clothing, holding a flashlight and a backpack. I then knew what was happening. I immediately ran over to my closet and was trying to move stuff out of the bottom of it so I could hide when I started hearing footsteps approaching. I wasn't going to have time to hide in the closet, so I went back to my bed and covered up entirely. except for a small slit that I could see out of. I was also facing away from the door, that way they hopefully wouldn't see my face.

I laid there for what felt like forever, just waiting for them to leave. I heard a lot of banging, slamming, them saying, hurry up, and walking around. Then I heard them and also saw their shadow at the door as they walked by, which caused me to gasp a little. Shortly after this, I saw the light grow bigger as my door slowly creaked open. I could see someone standing in the doorway.

I was terrified and frozen, not knowing what to do. Would they hurt a kid? Should I ask them to leave or beg them to not hurt me? Then I was scared for my sister as I hadn't heard her say anything either. Instead of any of those, I just pretty much laid there in fear. The guy slowly walked into my room. room and got close to my bed. That's when I heard a clicking sound and he said,

Do not roll over. Do not say anything. Count to a hundred and then you can get up. I started quietly sobbing and whispering my numbers as I heard the guy dash out of my room saying, someone else is in the house and hearing people run out quickly. I stayed in my bed, counting. I don't know how far I got, but I know it wasn't to a hundred. but I said out loud,

98, 99, 100, and slowly turned around to look. I didn't see or hear anyone, so I got out of bed and looked around the hallway. I consciously walked out of my room and into the living room to see that it was a mess, and our old TV and computer was gone, with the door wide open.

I started crying, and that's when my sister came up the stairs and hugged me. Aubrey called my mom and then the cops, and we hid in my parents' room until they got home. My mom got there pretty soon after the cops did, and they made a list of everything that was taken. I remember they stole our knife set from the kitchen,

as well as a safe that my mom had under their bed, with some of her grandparents' jewelry, and they took the piggy bank that was in my little sister's roof. We didn't have much, but they took some of the few, valuable items that we did have. Overall, though, I was just terrified being in that situation as a child, and was at least glad that they didn't want to hurt the kids,

or maybe it was because I chose to face away from them. I don't think they were ever caught, though. We moved out about a month later. I know it caused more issues for my parents because the landlord still wanted payments, but my mom didn't want us to be there anymore for obvious reasons. We ended up moving in with my grandparents for a while, until they found us a better place, but it was in a better neighborhood, and there was always an adult there with us. Even now, being an adult, I make sure the doors and windows are locked,

and if the door or lock seems even a little messed up, I get it fixed, quickly. I wouldn't want anyone else to have to experience something like that again. especially as a child. Okay, so it's a preface. I, 24 female, am a very rational person. I'm the type who tells themselves that they're just overthinking or being skeptical, but I had an incident a few months ago that I simply cannot shake. I currently live in Colorado, but I'm originally from a town in Illinois,

that is nationally ranked as one of the safest, albeit snobbiest, places to live in America. I was home a few months ago in the summer for a funeral, and one night I decided to take a late-night walk. This has been a ritual of mine since middle school, where I would walk around my neighborhood for hours to clear my head and find some solitude from my parents. This night was like any typical night, with the occasional late-night dog walker passing here and there, but due to the unfortunate circumstances, I stayed out longer than usual. As I was walking down a road, a red minivan passed me. As I've taken these late-night walks in my neighborhood for years, I'm typically never cautious of passing cars. However, as this car passed me going in the opposite direction, my internal alarm started blaring.

I've only ever felt that sense of danger twice in my life. Once when a man approached me in an alley when I was a child, and the other being when I was tailed by a man in college, who was later arrested for serial sexual assault on campus. Anyway, the car slowed down slightly, as it passed me, and somewhere down that street it turned around, reappearing to park on the curbside next to where I was walking. I immediately turned around to start walking in the other direction, only looking back when I felt

I was a safe distance away. Mind you, this neighborhood is littered with streetlights, so it's not menacing in any way, and my thoughts as I distanced myself was that the driver must have been. and parking next to his home, or a home that he was visiting, me thinking that I probably looked like a sketchy person in the situation. But when I glanced back, my eyes were met by a tall, what looked to be a white man and a red shirt and blue jeans. He just stood there staring back at me.

He seemed to be making no move towards approaching any home, and instead just stood there. half-shaded by the dark provided by the lining trees, despite the streetlights. He was, I am positive, staring right back at me as I hurried away. I continued back on my walk, this time in the direction of my house. Whatever that was, even if it was just my imagination, it startled and unnerved me, bringing a halt to my leisurely stroll. Keep in mind now that my senses were on high alerts, so I was hyper aware of my surroundings. I was looking left, right, straight, and most importantly back as I made my way home quickly.

I'm beyond sure, even now, that there was no one behind, next to, or in front of me as I made my return, which was about three streets away. As I got further, I started to second-guess myself, regretting the possibility that I might have made some random stranger feel like they were making me uncomfortable somehow. In an attempt then to be fearless and rational, I decided to pass my street and continue my walk on to the next avenue. As I turned on to the following street, I stopped to tie my shoe. once again keep in mind that at this point my mind was still on high alert and i'm beyond sure that there was no one else walking anywhere around me not even within two hundred paces after i finished with my shoe still kneeling on the ground i suddenly felt a sense of instant dreadful fear and immediately turned to look behind me at the turn of the avenue a man and a red shirt and blue jeans appeared out of nowhere, making his way in my direction.

He was holding something long and thin in his hand, so I'm thinking it was a leash in the dark, and I looked for a dog. There was no dog. I don't want to sound offensive either, but having lived in that neighborhood my entire life, just by the look of him, I knew that he did not belong. without even thinking, I shot up and sprinted through the backyards to jump my fence. I entered my backyard and locked every entrance in my home. Again, being the devil's advocate against myself, I continued to tell myself that I was just overreacting. And then my back door neighbor's motion light turned on.

My heart dropped. I spent the rest of that night on my bedroom floor, phone in one hand, kitchen knife, and the other, the motion lights turning on and off sporadically for the next few hours. Even now, I can't believe that even the dumbest assailant would risk attempting anything in a neighborhood like mine, full of bored, rich, security-packed karens. But I can't shake the feeling that I escaped someone that night, someone who must have been stalking me out of sight, possibly through backyards, since most of the neighborhood homes don't have offenses. I'm still very skeptical of myself, so I would appreciate any ideas as to what might

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50 tours gratis on the machine -assoubik-Bas Bonanza. Depos minimum of $10. Veilethe's way responsible. The conditions apply. For a short backstory, I have PTSD from the father of my child.

I was 16, and he was 24. I stayed with, we'll call him Joey, it's not his name, but go with it. For five years, and had a son. at 21. During our time together, he had blackouts, could not control his emotions,

was very manipulative and abusive, as well as very insecure. I have a beautiful nine-year-old son out of all of it, separated since my son was two months old. As well as in November 7th of 2018, I found my friend dead in his bed. He was there for two days. shoes on, a laptop in front of him, he was lying on his bed. His face was a deep purple, and his fingertips as well. His face dropped into his shoulder. At first I thought he was dirty from working or something, and then I got closer, removed his toke, and I felt his neck.

He was cold stiff, already rigamortis. I realized it was pulled blood in his face and fingertip. I already had slight insomnia, and now I don't sleep right at all. Online dating for now is my norm. It's kind of almost expected. One day, on social media, I happened to come across a B-grade actor's legit account, Jason Long from Jeepers Creepers. I decided I would add him, and to my surprise, he accepted.

That was a big mistake. Within 36 hours or less, I had over 500 invites, 100 messages, and over 50 naked photos. It was sickening. Being the hermit I am, I liked the attention, but picked only a few to actually private message. Eventually, I met who we will call Bill from, we'll say Texas. He covered his face, always typed in capitals, and funny squiggle like screaming all the time. I'm such an idiot.

I know. Eventually, I convinced him to video call me and text me. We were friends, nothing sexual or intimate, until after November of 2018, and I never saw his body, only his face. He admitted that he'd had an assault charge and could not come back to my country. I even paid for a police background,

check and he told the truth about who he was, where he lived, etc. After losing friends who I now realize were never my friends over Christmas, I decided fully that I would plan a trip to Texas to visit Bill. I know, I'm dumb for doing this. Call me a daring fool. To be honest, I feel like I was convinced he was a good person to meet, kind of like this. Say someone had a bag of money or cinnamon buns, and you got there and it's actually a bag with a bomb covered in dog crap. Anyways, with my own money, my own time, a planned babysitter, I planned a week-long trip.

Stupidly, I thought it would be a great idea to save money by staying at Bill's house and not booking a hotel. What a huge mistake. So, here I was on a six-hour flight to... Texas. Crazy, right? I arrive, excited, jogging to meet him. First sign that I ignored, he was wearing the same clothes that I saw in the video. Dirty, grungy, like he made no effort to clean up. His eyes kept spinning like maybe he was high or tired, but again, I ignored it. We took the elevator to the parking lot level, and he said his car was at that level. He said his car was at that

level, he couldn't find the car for almost half an hour. I was pretty unimpressed and upset. Even worse, the car was sticky, dirty, and it reeked of a bottle depot, which, in Canada, where I'm from, we recycle, and the depot that you take them to reeks of empty soda pop and beer. So, we got to his house after over an hour. he lived just outside the city. Right in the middle of nowhere, neighbors were maybe an acre or two away.

It was actually a really cute house. It was made of brick and wood and had half an acre. On the outside, it seemed sweet. I walked up the stairs, forgot my stuff in the car, and he was so focused on me that he didn't even offer to carry my bag. Quick back around. The man who I came to meet was 14 years clean of heroin. Two years ago, he was bedridden with acid oils that developed

to cleanse the toxins from the drug abuse earlier in his life. Literally, has craters missing from his chest and buttocks and legs, his armpits looked as if he'd landed on a grenade and survived. Now he was on painkillers so strong that they have the same effects as heroin or morphine. He'd been up on his feet and working full time for two years. There was no excuse for the house to look like that. When I entered the home, I was mortified.

Stains everywhere, garbage everywhere. It smelled like a dog with no dog in sight. Dead scorpions everywhere. Now remember, I'm stuck there. I could not afford an early plane ticket home, so I tried to look past it and get to know the person behind the dirt, I guess. Two days there, it was fine.

We traveled downtown, did some touring, ended up at a famous bombing site with a huge fence for a memorial, where apparently a daycare full of kids died. It was sad. There were hundreds of stuffed animals, watches, photographs, you name it, on this three-block length of fence. We went to a local dive bar that was okay. It wasn't in Texas. It was in Oklahoma, so if that sounds familiar in any way.

By the third day, we somehow are talking, but he puts his head on my forehead, and he pushed all of his weight into my head. It felt like maybe he was falling asleep while he was talking to me, stating that he'll do anything for me and prove he's worth it when he knows he doesn't deserve me. Meanwhile, for two days, every ten minutes he would just randomly say I know you hate me. It was strange that I had to reassure him constantly. I fed into some conversations here and there to see how his mind really worked. Apparently he had a pregnancy fetish, like drinking breast milk.

Even watching girls do things with animals, I was horrified. earlier that trip he showed me his tornado shelter with over a hundred dead squirpians in it and made a joke he was going to keep me there and milk me like a cow i forgot to mention he kept asking if he could eat food out of my back end no i refused that was an infection waiting to happen he pulled a black gold ring with purple stones on it and shoved it on my ring finger while i was baffled and speechless, I kept it on for a day and didn't really talk about it. I was sick for 48 hours after because I was stupid enough to take a quarter of one of his painkillers when I had some back pain from jet lag. I would have been fine with Advil. Now I know why he could barely keep his

eyes still when I met him. I was dizzy. My eyes were spinning. I was so buzzed. All I wanted to do was puke and sleep at the same time. It was horrible. And he didn't take care of me, but I didn't sleep just in case he did something to me. I was so out of it, but coherent enough to know what it was happening, and have control of my body. It was weird. He watched me puke and kept trying to talk serious stuff and rub my back and touch me. I had to push him away constantly.

But I was stuck there. I didn't want to straight up say no. I said I wanted my dad to meet him, help fix the house, etc., etc., trying to get my head on straight. He went completely two-faced, calling me a terrible mother for not choosing him. He started saying step by step what I was going to do with my life if he was not my husband. It was crazy. I got mad. I ended up saying, oh wow, what next?

What else am I going to? to do. By this time, I had about 16 hours before my plane ride home. Every time I brought up a hotel, he convinced me it was okay to stay there. He actually really

emasculated himself by constantly asking what I needed, but in a way that was suffocating. He said nothing was too much for his girl. I literally think he would do anything that I told him to do. Probably anything.

It was disturbing. So I didn't feel like I was in too much danger until the yelling started. I haven't had yelling in over a year. I keep toxic people out of my life, and it was a fear that I never thought I would feel ever again. He was depressed, and he liked the dark. He wanted me to sleep on the couch, which was fine with me. I didn't sleep the whole time I was there anyway.

after yelling at me he went to the living room and I broke down bawling weeping just sobbing and afraid I was tired hungry and too sick for two days before that he came into the room and grabbed my hand and just started pulling me toward the darkness in the hallway it was pitch black in the middle of the country and only a small lamp in the bedroom which he complained about me needing to have on the whole trip. As I was walking with him into the dark, the walls, Bill's arm, his face, it felt like they started dripping,

or melted away like water or ooze, and it wasn't dark anymore. In fact, I wasn't even in Texas. I was in Canada, with Joey, the father of my child. He was gripping my wrist so hard, he had those full black, full pupils, this dead eye.

eyes, I freaked out. I screamed pulling back saying, where are you taking me? What's happening? I was hyperventilating. I couldn't breathe and everything was dark again. He sat me down on the couch and handed me a pipe with some pot on it for the stress and anxiety. Immediately I could breathe again after a few breaths in a paper bag. Yeah, a paper bag like in the movies. The worst part is the ride to the airport. He kept saying all the terrible things he could have done. He said he'd never been happier, taking care of me when I was sick for two days, puking my face off, getting a bucket and taking care of me as if he was happy I got sick

so he had someone who needed him, stating he could have burned my passport and my luggage or just ditched me on the highway. Screaming and crying, I literally said, please, just take me to the airport. It was 3 a.m. or so, and I needed to be there at 5. He lost his wallet on the trip to the airport, and after running around a few places checking to find the missing wallet, I could feel it. I was just waiting for it.

He looked over at me and asked, Did you take my wallet? I know how you women can be. He said, open it, show me. I was very upset. If he knew me at all, he would never accuse me of stealing. I proceeded to open my purse, and then in a jolt of anger violently dumped the whole purse onto the floor of his car. I turned on the light to my cell phone and aimed it around.

Is it there? Huh? Is it there? You bastard? He had a guilty look on his face. He looked like he felt a little bad accusing me. He proceeded to clean up my stuff, and he drove to the airport. He refused to take the ring back, even though I said no twice. As soon as I was on the plane, he posted on his social media a very detailed description of how he was going to head but the face of the next woman who tries to get close to him and watch the blood fall down her face. So I deleted and blocked him on everything.

Never meet anyone online without a good escape plan. And I'm going to stick to my own country from now on. Let's just say I don't go on. online very much anymore. This all happened March 27th to April 2nd of 2019. I'm actually engaged now to that friend that I lost contact with, ironically enough. I got harassed a little bit as of late. I've had no contact from him at all.

When I was a kid, maybe four or five, we moved to Pennsylvania from Georgia. My mom had left her entire life to be with this. boyfriend, who later turned out to be pretty abusive, but that isn't part of the story. She had a friend who was into things like a shaman, like witchcraft. She believed in many things, like dreams having meanings, and she used to tell us not to go into the woods in her backyard, because there's a place that if you do, you won't be able to find your way home, like a vortex or something. I always heeded her warnings because once I threw a stick into the woods, and I never heard it hit the ground.

Fast forward a few months, living in Pennsylvania, my mom learned that her friend had passed away. I woke up one night not soon after learning of this, or at least I thought I was awake, to a lot of talking. almost like I was in an airport or a train station. I could hear many voices talking, but I couldn't see anything. I kept hearing a familiar voice poking through all the other voices, and I recognized it as my mom's friend. I called out to her, and she found her way to me, her voice getting louder until it sounded like she was right next to me.

I remember having this really long conversation with her, as if she was right in front of me. For some reason, I wasn't really scared. She asked me how I was doing, how living up north was, just little things. She eventually got to questions about my mom. She asked me how she was, and I told her that she was sad. I asked her if she was dead, and she told me no, she was okay. She told me to tell my mom that she was okay, that she missed her, and that she needs to come see her.

I was confused, but I agreed to tell her. In that morning, I told my mom that I had talked to Jay, we'll call her that, and repeated what she told me. I think the first time my mom kind of blew it off as my imagination, and that I was just trying to help her feel better. As time went on, this became more frequent over the course of a few months to where I was being visited almost daily. I kept telling my mom that Jay said she was okay and that she really needs you to come see her soon. My mom, no longer flattered by my comments, started to get angry with me and begged me to stop. Realizing my mom was mad, I stopped telling her. Over the next couple of months, my mom had forgot about the conversation

and decided she wanted to go visit my sister who was married and still living in Georgia. We spent a week or two there, and honestly, I'd forgotten all about it during that time, because that's what kids do. On the last day there, we had everything packed up and ready to go home. I remember my head pressed against the glass of the car window trunk. trying to sleep, when I heard Jay again. She told me to tell my mom that she needed to go see her. Reluctantly, I told my mom, and it was as if it was perfect timing, because we were coming up to the road that would lead us there.

My mom got extremely angry at me, and told me that this was really unfair and that I was ruining the trip by lying about something so horrible, but I insisted that I was telling her the truth, She decided then to prove me wrong and turned the car down the road. To everyone's amazement, she pulled up her long driveway to find a woman who looked just like her in the trunk of her car loading up some items. When she turned, my mom realized that the person at the car was indeed her friend Jay, but she had changed her hairstyle.

I never got out of the car to hear the conversations that went on. I just followed the lips as best I could. My mom asked her what happened and how she was still alive. After a long while, I couldn't really count time back then. They hugged my mom got back in the car. Jay looked over at my brother, blew him a kiss, and locked eyes with me in the back seat. She nodded, gave me a wink, and that was the last time that I saw her face

or ever heard her voice in my head again. I learned on the trip home that Jay had been a part of a very violent breakup with her husband and had faked her death to escape him. She'd hired a PI to make sure he wasn't home so she could get a few belongings from the shed that he would never even know were missing. My mom and us were the only people that knew she was still alive and she knew my mom would never talk to her husband. To this day,

That was the strangest thing that has ever happened to my mom and I, but I can't explain how I knew. How she would be there on that very day, at that very moment. The only resource I ever found was astral projection being able to communicate with the dead, or even the living. Anyways, I figured I would share my story. I'm a skeptic, even now as I write this, because I've never experienced anything similar again.

Haunted things, sure, but I'm usually the one to try to find answers to debunk it. But this story has, and always will, stick with me. So this happened to me in July of this year. Just to give context of where I was to discount any of the possible wildlife explanations, at the time, I lived in the middle of the mid-year. west in a suburban area, fairly populated near a very populated city. There was nowhere that could be considered rural within at least a 40-mile radius. So anyways, to start my experience, it was late at night and I was hanging out with my golden

retriever, Leo, who was just turning a year old in a couple of weeks at the time. I was just watching YouTube in my room while he laid on the floor next to me. It was about 12.30 a.m., and I was ready for beds, so I had to take him out before we both went to sleep. So I got him on his leash, and we went outside. My family and I live in a large apartment complex. The apartments have quite a few rooms in their own personal garage, but still have eight to apartments per building. So the buildings are very long and slim.

Behind our building is a long strip of grass that goes for about 15 feet, and then a large tree line that is about 20 feet deep, and around 200 feet long. Leo and I go out the front around the building to the back, as we don't have an exit to the back. We're on the second floor, and we all have our own separate entrances. We make it to the back to the grassy area, and I walk out into the grass with him to let him do his business. I'm on my phone not paying attention, really, and we stand there for a good minute. I realize it's been a good amount of time, and I noticed that Leo hasn't moved one bit.

I turn off my phone and look at him, and realize he hadn't moved from the spot that we stopped at and was looking at the other building right by the woods. He'd been frozen there the whole time. I pet him, and he looks up at me, and when I stopped petting him, he looked straight back at the same spot. I hadn't at the time realized he was looking at that spot the whole time, until then, and then looked over to where he was looking.

My eyes were not adjusted to the darkness and only could see the shadow of the building. The only source of light was a streetlight about 50 feet behind us. I looked back at him, and I quietly chuckled because I thought he just heard a squirrel and was all perked up. It was very cute, and I then looked back at my phone. Leo, in the corner of my eye, about 15 seconds later, flinched back as if he had been startled by something and then started to whine. I looked over at the spot this time, realizing now that he was scared of something he saw while we had been out there.

My eyes were now adjusted to the dark. I saw what he was fixated on. In the shadow of the building right next to the corner of the wall, in front of the tree line, about 15 feet away from me, was that creature. I could only see a black outline as it was not lit up enough, but it was massive. I know how tall the building was relative to me, and when it was standing right next to the building, it was around five foot tall.

That wouldn't be very tall if it was standing upright, but this thing was on all fours. The best way I can describe how it looked is when a bulldog snarls and kind of flexes its front legs when trying to intimidate something, but was scaled up to be about five feet tall and had more must. Its outline was much wider. There is no way that this is any creature in the Midwest. The only creature that is remotely close to that is a black bear, and that's only up north, nowhere near where I am in the southeastern part of my state. There aren't any wooded areas for a bear to live in anyways, as stated in the beginning.

Plus, the max height of black bear hits on all fours is typically three foot, and they're not very broad. This thing surpassed that by a long shot and was very broad. I jumped back in fear and was just frozen after that for a solid 30 seconds, just staring at it. I then backed away slowly, keeping my eye on it the whole time. Leo then began to growl and snarl at it, and we rounded the corner. Leo has never acted aggressive like that, ever before. So this just made me even more terrified.

I then peaked around the corner, no more than a second later, and it was gone. No noise, no shadow, swiftly moving behind the building, just gone. There's no way something could have moved behind the building that fast without a sound, especially if that's size. This freaked me out even more, and I sprinted back inside to the house. I would really like to think that I was hallucin, I was just tired, but it was clear as day, even during the night. I've never told anyone this story before, and it freaks me out to this day.

Several years ago, I was involved in a car accident that caused some minor spinal injuries, mostly swelling that resulted in partial paralysis. Not able to return home due to us living in an apartment on the second day. floor with no elevator, I became a resident at a physical therapy rehabilitation center. After finally regaining the ability to walk aided by a walker and moving around in a wheelchair, it was decided that I would get my own place using Section 8 housing. After much searching, I found a nice spot, ground floor, condominium, in a relatively safe part of town. The one-room condo had a wide living room, with attached kitchenette and a wide hallway leading to the bedroom in the back of the place.

With my family's help, I was all moved in and ready to begin living independently for the first time. After a great first meal in my own place, a pizza from a local restaurant, I decided to go to bed. As days turned to weeks, I began to learn the ins and outs of life, in this condo complex, and for the most part everything was fine, except for the skeevy guy who would often be seen prowling around, who I later learned was the brother of one of my neighbors. Said Sleesball was a perpetually recovering meth addict, who would live with his brother whenever his girlfriend would throw him out of the apartment.

Upon learning the news, my father, came to see me one evening out of the blue. After a nice dinner, he asked me if I still had my concealed carry permit, and me being a supporter of the Second Amendment, answered in the affirmative. However, my gun was still in storage and not yet in my possession.

He smiled, reaching into his bag and he presented me with the housewarming gift, an X-TAC elite carry-com, one of his favorite pieces from his collection. After bidding my father a fond farewell, I decided to retire to my bedroom, and after watching YouTube videos on my fire TV, I decided to fall asleep. A few weeks go by, and I largely forget about my new toy, having stashed it in the drawer next to my bed until the day in question. I had to do some grocery shopping, and after calling for my transportation, a company called Veo that offered.

free rides for the disabled, I go to the store and buy my groceries for the week, and after thanking the driver for helping me bring them inside, I pack them away and once again retire to bed. Several hours later, I wake up to a noise that sounds like scratching at my bedroom door. Opening it, I see nothing, but I hear it further down the hallway, and it hits me. someone's trying to pry the door open. Slowly closing the bedroom door, I fish in the drawer from my gun and I take it out of the holster and place it at my side with the safety off.

I slowly roll down the hallway to the kitchen just in time to hear the door give way. A flashlight beam scans the interior, just in front of the door as the shadowy silhouette of the intruder enters. Needless to say, he's surprised when I flip on the light, and he finds himself bathed in the fluorescent glow of the overhead lights. He looks at me shocked at first, and then remembering that he's got a knife, and I'm a seemingly helpless guy in a wheelchair, his eyes suddenly grow to the size of saucers,

and then I produce my gun from the chair beside me, and fire hitting him center mass. He drops his knife and heads screaming outside the door and then collapses on the ground feet away. I hear his labored breathing most likely from a collapsed lung, and I grab the phone to call the police. As I'm on the phone with them, other residents probably woken by either the shot or subsequent scream, emerge from their condos to see the potential robbers spayed out on the lawn. The police soon arrive, and they render emergency first aid to the guy before paramedics arrived and took over.

I give my statement to the police, and they of course have to take my gun in his evidence, which I begrudgingly hand over. I later got it back after the shoot was ruled self-defense. Come to find out, sometime later, that my late-night visitor was the sketchy brother of my neighbor. The police said that he confessed to planning on robbing me because cripples are easy targets, his exact words. The cop who told me this looked at me and smiled slyly, saying that he chose the wrong one, I guess, with the reassuring pat on the shoulder. As for the brother, who was my neighbor, he and his girlfriend were encouraged to move out, and I was thankful to see them go, because a new tenant moved in soon afterwards, a much better person if I do say so myself. The drug addict's brother survived, and, last I heard, was in prison with the five-year sentenced for armed robbery in the first degree. Now, I've had weird experiences all my life, paranormal, and whatnot, but I don't think this is that.

About a year ago, I have a bad memory, so I have no idea to when it was. I had a friend over. Earlier in the day, I said we should go on an adventure in the backyard. We end up forgetting and decide to stay inside. Our mom's left to go to a restaurant around 10-ish, and I brought up the idea of going around back, but harshly mentioning that I didn't want to do it because it was nighttime, and knowing what could be back there from other experiences,

we went anyways. I brought a kitchen knife and a flat, A crappy one. And my friend had two wooden sticks. We started walking around the corner of my house. Along the sides of my house is a seven-foot-tall privacy fence. I turned the corner, shining the flashlight into the darkness, and all the way to the end of the fence,

there was a pale, tall, not-clothed, no hair that I could tell, a figure. I told my friend that we needed to leave and that I had explained what I saw when we got inside. The figure ran back into the darkness, and I booked it. My friend, not understanding, was calmly walking back to the porch as I ushered them to speed up. This then leads us to the recent months. I used to not get up early, but I would wake up in the middle of the night, at 2.30 to 6 a.m., And at the time, I had a bird. I would hear shuffling, so I just pinned it on my bird moving around in his cage.

But one night, something was different. I heard tapping on my window. I didn't know what to do, so I faked being asleep while occasionally staring at the window. I've had sleep paralysis before, but this wasn't that. I eventually did fall asleep. I kept blaming the noises. on my bird moving around his cage, but recently, because of personal reasons, I've had to have someone adopt my bird. And so far, I've heard shuffling, coughing, grunting, and maybe other things.

And I, a five-foot-one person, could easily climb over and onto that fence. I know because I've done it before. I got up around 5.30 a.m. today. I walked into the the kitchen to make coffee, and the sliding glass door that leads to the backyard was unlocked. My mom probably left it unlocked, but all the window memories flooded to my mind. I stared at it for a few minutes and went back to making coffee. I looked out of my kitchen window, and I saw a flashlight in the wooded part of our front yard. It could be a neighbor, right? I said to calm myself down. I sat there looking at the glass door, too scared to go lock it, but I did, and I closed the curtain.

But I didn't turn off the floodlights for a reason. I took my coffee to my room and sat in my bed next to the window, and I got on my laptop. An hour passes, and I hear shuffling, and then a distinct cough. I wasn't half asleep. I'd been awake for like an hour and a half, so there was no way. way I was imagining this. I walked to my glass door to go check it out, but then it hits me. I can't see my window because we have a small structure holding our water heater.

I go back inside, and then I grab my boots so I can walk in the grass. I go back, and I realized my cat was out there. He desperately wanted to go inside, and, well, he's an outside cat, so that didn't make much sense. I started walking to my window and I paused in my tracks. I live in a mobile home and we have a foundation and we have trap doors, one on the outside of the fence and one on the inside. Someone could easily go through them because they aren't locked, and I noticed it's open. I freeze and stare at it and then run back to my deck because I didn't want to get a decked from behind while checking out my window. I went inside and haven't heard anything since.

And I will gladly take advice. I've mentioned this to my mom, but I don't think she believes me. Growing up, my brother had severe ear infections and fevers, like 100 to 104, really high fevers. He had hallucination sometimes. Fever or not, he would sleepwalk. I was about five or six years old, and I woke up one night because there was a light on, and I preferred complete darkness. But also my door open, because I was young, and I was always a light sleeper. I crept out of bed, tiptoed peeked out my door toward the bathroom to the left.

After noticing my brother's room wide open to the right, my eyes widened. I was so freaked. All I could see out of the bathroom door a bit down the hall to the right beside my parents' closed door was an arm, waving, kind of like from the side to above the head, almost like extremely slow jumping jacks. I walked closer. It was my brother Chris. He was trying to comb his hair, brush his teeth. I have no clue.

His eyes were shut, and he was sleeping and walking. I guess my cousin Ben came to the foot of my mother's bed one night during a sleepover and freaked her out, because he was sleepwalking too. And my brother had his taunts was removed, and he stopped getting sick, and from there he stopped sleepwalking. Now, for the freaky part, which I'm so glad has not happened in over three years. I had my son George in 2010. I lived with my folks for the first few years. of his life. He was about two and a half, and he fell asleep downstairs on the couch watching TV.

I came downstairs to check on him. Now, let me describe the basement. There was a six-step staircase with no door, open layout, a small foyer just before the front door and basement, so you could see part of the basement with a couch right up against the wall, a small gap, a small ends table, barely any room between, and then a love seat against the other wall with the window above it. My son was in the corner facing the corner of the wall, as if in time out for bad behavior, behind the end table and behind the couches. All I could do was say, George? Wavingly, my voice was scared. You could tell that he said nothing.

I said, nope. I went back upstairs, skipping stairs. thinking he's going to start some scene from The Exorcist. I waited about ten minutes, had a smoke on the back patio, went back downstairs, and he was watching TV again, wakes sitting cross-legged on the floor. And he said he just woke up. I asked him if he went to the wall on purpose to scare me, and he said,

What? So I ignored it, until... My son was eight years old. I was then living on my own an apartment, dating, unfortunately not the greatest guy in the world. Also, it was an old building that I live in. Anyway, one night my son was asleep. Me and my boyfriend at the time were watching TV as usual.

Suddenly, I could hear this dripping noise like water, and then it was louder like it was more of a flow. I came around the corner To see my son Just outside his bedroom door Pajama shirt and underwear I shut holding himself Peeing all over the floor

Immediately I said Oh my God Freddy his head's gonna spin around like the exorcist All he could spout was What? With the T heightened Seriously He's pissing all over the floor He's sleepwalking like I took

told you he did once. No hesitation. Only like 20 seconds went by, and I woke him up. I know, you're not supposed to wake sleepwalkers, but he was okay. I explained to George what had happened, and he laughed, like, huh, type laugh, like he was confused and sleepy. He said, sorry, Mom, we cleaned him up, sent him to bed, and nice clean pajamas. And he hasn't sleepwalked.

Since. Not yet. And hopefully never again. That was today's episode of the As the Raven Dreams podcast. Thank you so very much for listening, and I really hope you enjoyed these scary stories. If you want to support the channel further, please do consider checking out my YouTube channel. Just search As the Raven Dreams on YouTube and subscribing. You can also join the channel or go to my Patreon for early access to all of my content, all of it's appreciated and never expected.

But if it happens, thank you. All that said, friends, I will see you on the next episode of the As the Raven Dreams podcast. But of course, until then, sleep well.