As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 075 - Creepy Teacher And Stalker Stories - 10 True Scary Stories

Episode Date: May 20, 2023

Hello and Welcome to the 75th 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 horrible teachers that people had to deal with, as well as some creepy stalker & Stranger stories. Have a Story To Submit? ➤ https://www.astheravendreams.com Or Post to the Subreddit ➤ https://reddit.com/r/TheRavensDream Support the channel for Early Access AND more! Patreon ➤ https://patreon.com/AsTheRavenDreams Join ➤ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCkW0ihdMHfBUjQrMKjRto6g/join Or Check out the Merch Store! ➤ https://teechip.com/stores/astheravendreams Thank you to all of the authors that have stories in today's Video... AuthenticBicycle717, soobska, SavingsThese1919, JediBoJediPrime29, emotionfeeldumb0 , Defiant-Radish4979, Gold-Stable7109, Michael, Mrs. Drew, SpeakUp 'As The Raven Dreams' is a community where we explore the darker parts of human existence through true and harrowing stories. From sinister encounters with strangers and stalkers, to terrifying experiences that defy explanation and unsettling mysteries that linger in the shadows, I am here to tell you the most haunting narratives ever whispered. Much Love, and Sleep Well... ----- #TrueScaryStories #AsTheRavenDreams #RedditStories ➤ Stories include a content warning for language and sensitive/disturbing content. Viewer discretion is always advised. ➤ ALL Audio of this Podcast are copyright of AS THE RAVEN DREAMS / RAVEN ADAMS and may not be duplicated, in any format, without explicit permission ➤ If you like any of the following stories, consider subscribing! - Dark Web horror stories, creepy lets not meet stories, stalker stories, Glitch In The Matrix Stories, Unexplained Horror stories, Paranormal stories, cryptid encounter stories, Crazy ex lover stories, creepy neighbor stories, quantum immortality, true scary stories from reddit, or any other True horror Stories! ➤ 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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I've never really shared this story before, mainly because it still causes me mental distress every time I think about it. even all of these years later. But after reading a bunch of other stories posted in this group and seeing that a lot of people have gone through terrible things, some of them even similar to mine, I decided that I should put this out there and see if it helps me get past it. Maybe it'll help others see the severity of obsessive behavior, and if it helps anyone,

then that would be an added bonus in my mind. Back whenever I was in high school, there was this kid named Carter, who was always a bit odd and out there. He was quiet, very quiet. He kept to himself for the most part, but he had a bit of a fascination with me. In that, where he never really spoke to anyone else, he always treated me like I was a good friend, like we had talked all the time. Now, I didn't mind Carter. He seemed like an okay person, but outside of that, I never really paid much attention to him,

assuming that he was just shy or that he might have had a bit of a crush on me or something. I figured it was completely harmless, that it would pass, and that would be that. However, of course, that's not how things went. What started as him having just that small crush turned into him getting. getting a bit creepy. He started seeming to always be around, seemingly by coincidence. He would be in the hallways nearby when I walked to class. At lunch, he would sit at the table next to where I was,

regardless of who else was sitting there, or he would stand with his back against the wall near the table if there were people already there. He joined the drama club randomly, and would be there every day after school when the meetings would occur. I tried to pretend that it had nothing to do with me, that I was just noticing a bunch of coincidental occurrences, and that he wasn't doing it to be around me. Then the notes started. There was a random note in my locker one day, handwritten and not signed, and it was filled with a

bunch of compliments and declarations of love. Flattering, sure, but it was cringe-inducing, too. It had compliments about random things that really didn't make sense to me, like the straightness of my teeth and how I walked. And, of course, that wasn't the only one. Oh, no. It happened every day for a few days. And then there were a few days where there were multiples, and it started getting beyond unsettling.

They started mentioning details about my life that no one should have known. One specifically mentioned the color of the underwear that I was wearing that day and how it matched the color of my bed covers. Worse yet, it was actually accurate. When I read that, I started to feel sick to my stomach, realizing that this guy was stalking me. I could no longer pretend that it was all a coincidence. I had to accept and address that this boy was pushing boundaries. I will say that I was only 16 and I really didn't know what to do about it beyond telling an adult. And I figured that I should tell my school counselor since it technically was happening at school.

So I went to my counselor and I explained everything that was going on. And I gave her those notes, including the last ones that I mentioned. She read them, and after getting through it and taking a few moments, to think about it, she looked at me and said, And you think you know who sent these? I told her that it was Carter, and she asked me how I knew for sure. I tried to explain that he had been stalking me,

that he was always around and such, but she mentioned that none of the letters were signed, and that I couldn't just accuse him without being able to prove it. I asked how I was supposed to prove it, and she shrugged me off. saying that as serious as this sounded, there was nothing to show that it was actually him, and that I should talk to him about it.

She seriously recommended that I talked to him about this whole thing, that I talked to him about how obsessive he was, about the fact that he had obviously been peeping in my window at some point. That was not going to happen, obviously. I walked out of that room and I finished the day and when I got home, I just went and laid down in my bed and sobbed. I was feeling paranoid, freaked out, like he was watching me while I was sitting there crying. I kept glancing out my window thinking that I would see him, thinking he would be right there for some reason. When my dad got home, he asked me what was going on, and I explained the whole thing to him,

and I even told him that I tried to talk to my school counselor and that she basically told me she couldn't do anything about it. He was shocked and angry. And when I told him about the counselor and he read the part about how the guy was looking in my window, he became furious. He told me that he was going to talk to the counselor that next morning. The next day he drove me to school and went in to talk to her and when he came out, It was pretty clear that everyone was unhappy.

He told me that I was going to be staying home from school that day, and we left. When we got home, he told me some of what was said, and he mentioned that the counselor was going to have a conversation with Carter, and then said that things would be okay. The day when I went back, the next day, I was nervous that I was going to run into Carter in the hallways. But from what I could tell, he wasn't at the school, which

it made me feel a bit better. That is, until I got home. When I got home from school, as was normal, my parents weren't home yet. I went in and grabbed something to eat and then sat in the living room to watch something on TV. After about 20 minutes, I heard something in the garage,

like something had fallen down and without even thinking, I got up to see what exact story. it was. When I opened the door, my heart dropped. There, in the middle of the garage, was Carter, just standing there trying to pick up what he had knocked down. He looked up at me and gave me this horrible grin, and then immediately started toward

the door. Thankfully, there were two things that were going to be my saving grace. The door upstairs from the garage, had a dead bolt lock on it, and my dad was going to be home within only a couple of minutes. I slammed the door and locked it, with the deadbolt and the knob lock. After a couple of minutes, I could hear Carter smacking the door and yelling at me,

telling me that I needed to let him in, that he loved me, and that I needed to let him be close to me. With the door locked, there was only one way out of the garage, and that was through the garage door, which was now opening because my dad, was pulling in.

I heard my dad pull into the garage. I heard the door open and I heard my dad shouting at Carter, yelling at him to get on the ground and Carter saying that he wasn't there to do anything wrong. That may have been believable had he not somehow broken into the garage to wait for me to get home. A bit after this, my dad told me to call the police and tell them that Carter had broken into our home, and, long story short, the police did show up. I explained what had happened, that I'd come home and found him in the garage. After a lot of talking to the cops and then putting Carter into the back of the car,

I was just sitting there staring at him in the back of the police car as they asked us questions and got more info. They pulled off, and I had never been happier than that day. Thankfully, that was pretty much the end of it. I don't know how far into the legal system Carter ended up getting, but I never saw him at school again. Obviously, I never got another note in my locker either. I never had to deal with his craziness again, and my life got back on track almost immediately. I'm thankful that my dad took me seriously, and screw that counselor for not even thinking to address the whole thing beyond saying, oh, we can't prove it.

Oh, and Carter, I'm glad that you and I never met again. And please, stay the hell away from me. When you were little, you had braced in the course of recreat, always in trying to negotiate, exchange these cards of hockey, these bonhomes, even of the collation.

You know that each thing has a value well before to have to be able to be. And from, well, the things have not really changed. Negoti-tit-T-T-D you permit to renouet with your instinct of negotiation. With without operation

gratisite, no amount minimum, and no free mensual. You're made for

negotiate, and the namee the title Tid Tid, and made to

you know. Telecharge it right now. Hello. I used to be a teacher for

many years and for multiple different grades. It was my career for a good chunk of

my life and I enjoyed it. I loved children and I always loved being able to teach them something new

and I hoped I could do at least one thing to spark something in them to challenge themselves, ask questions, and follow their passions. I would like to believe that I made an impression on quite a few, but I know that I wasn't everyone's favorite, and that's okay too. Of course, even though I looked for the best in all of the kids that walked into my classroom, it wasn't always easy. I did have some challenging ones, but I still showed them as much patience as the next student.

My story is about one of those kids. I'll refer to him as John. John was a pretty troubled boy, if it wasn't obvious just from his home life. He had been held back a year, so while he watched his friends graduate, he was still sitting in school. I knew he just had his dad around, not sure what happened with Mom. I don't want to say his dad wasn't good, but maybe more so that he just wasn't around much. There were times that he had been called to the office or had to leave due to fighting, and he would have to wait for someone else to come get him because his dad was always busy.

John's words, not mine. I was used to seeing John in the halls and other classes more, but due to the changes in the curriculum and his free study hour, I now had him in my classroom twice. His demeanor was like some of the other kids. he would lose focus during the lecture or do something else. He would try talking to others or even try to be disruptive, but I didn't humor it. He was treated the same as the other students.

I might tell the class to keep quiet or something similar, or I may even involve him in the discussion. I never did it in a way to try and call him out specifically to embarrass or punish him, but if someone else asked a question, and I may tie it into a previous discussion and ask someone else their opinion or take, including him. His answers started as just an I don't know or agreed with the previous person, and then he started giving some wise Alec answers.

To those, I would keep going with it. I was an English and a debate major, and I could clap back, if you will. The class found it amusing, and, quite frankly, I could tell if I was getting to him. Whether it was a bad thing or a good thing, I'll probably never know. Over time, I felt like I was really breaking down some barriers with him, but he still had his bad days, such as everyone else. I think we pretty much had some unspoken rules between us and even my classroom that everyone was aware of, which helped in cementing the idea

that they were responsible for their own actions, work, and time management. I bring this up because there were a few occasions where John was having a bad day and was obviously in a bad mood because of something that happened. I've told them that they're allowed to have bad days, but my classroom was to be used as a safe room. Do not start or plan fights in my room, don't take it out on me or other classmates, and to respect the property of the room. i.e. don't punch my bookshelves, kick other people's backpacks, etc. In fact, it may sound silly for some high school students, but I had a small desk that sat next to mine in the back of the room so that no one could look at you as a safe place.

I had books, exercise sheets to help you keep calm, coloring sheets and blank paper, tissues, all kinds of things for the kids. They were allowed to go over their hands. any time they needed their own space. There was even a sign they could use indicating that they wanted to be left alone or wanted someone to talk to. I had a lot of kids,

even ones that didn't have me as a teacher that used that desk. I wanted a place that they could go that wasn't just wandering the hall or skipping class and getting into trouble. To my surprise, John had just had an argument with another teacher. It was just words,

and as he made his way to my classroom, his fists were clenched. I watched as he walked in the classroom and he paced like he was about to throw a punch. However, he took a deep breath and actually went and sat at the desk with his arms crossed, tapping his foot. He had the Do Not Disturb sign up, but hey, I thought this was an incredible improvement. He stayed like that for most of the hour, other than writing something, but he then took the paper with him. Anyways, this was how he started behaving in my classroom. I found him paying more attention, participating in discussion, and when he wanted to be left alone, he sat at the desk. He even greeted me and would say goodbye for the day.

But there was one day that was entirely different. I saw him while he was at lunch, where he looked angry and, again, got into a shouting match with another student. They were pretty close to each other's faces, and I feared that a fight was about to start. Now, I'm a pretty small woman, so there's no way that I was going to be able to stop anyone, but I did approach and try to deescalate. Another male teacher noticed and he stepped in as well, which broke the two up. I didn't see John again until his class with me. He walked in, very angry, and immediately,

went to the back desk and sat there tapping the table. We continued with class as normal, but at some point during the lecture, John abruptly stood up, causing the chair to make that loud screech, and stormed out of the room. I got a bad feeling, so I excused myself and tried to follow him out of the room. I saw him heading towards the front of the building and call out for him, but he didn't even turn around. I went back to my room and called the security desk to let them know, and they told me that they would walk around for him.

I finished that class and the rest of the day, actually, with no information on where he went, and no one else had seen him either. It wasn't until the next day that I got some information. The day started as normal, but my class with John wouldn't be until after lunch. I didn't see him anywhere in the halls, and no one else that I knew that he associated with had seen him either. Then, right before lunch, I received a call on my desk phone during class. When I answered, it was the security officer asking me if I was okay. I kind of laughed because, obviously I was, and I asked why. He told me that he would explain soon, but then advised me to lock my classroom,

and to not let the students leave either, even if the bell rang, until he arrived. A bit concerned and curious, I agreed and hung up the phone. It was about midway through the hour, so the students were just working at their desks at this point, and I was left thinking about this call at my own desk. I had a horrible gut feeling that this had something to do with John. The security officer made it to my room and said the kids would be free to go to their next classes, at that point. He then asked to speak to me since it was my lunch hour and I agreed.

He told me that they had found someone walking around the back of the school, but they were wearing a hoodie so they couldn't see their face. When they went to stop him, he had tried to run but didn't get very far, as they had already called for the police. It was John. They brought him into the principal's office, called his dad, and were questioning him why he was there,

and not in class. The more alarming part was they found an airsoft gun in his backpack, as well as a knife and a folded up piece of paper in his pocket. The paper had a list of names on it. My name was on that list, but it was the only one with a question mark next to it and then was crossed out. They were worried that something had happened, causing my name to be marked off, which is why they called me first. everyone else on that list, including the teacher, were people that he did not get along with in some way.

I was shocked and heartbroken. He obviously struggled with some inner demons, and I honestly felt that because I challenged him or maybe stood up to him, I was added to that list. But I think he realized that I didn't challenge him in the way that he normally expected. I challenged him because I saw through the bullying, or maybe I'm completely wrong in that thought, but something changed his mind. I never learned what that could be as he was expelled for the rest of the year. I fought to at least be able to let him finish the year as he was almost done,

but the school board wouldn't allow it. They didn't inform us teachers of this prior, but they said that it was because he had been kicked out of previous, schools for similar outbursts, but not like what we experienced. I never heard about John or what happened to him after that, but I also never saw or heard anything in the news, so I guess that's important. All I know is that I'm now a very strong advocate for mental health. I was before, but this whole event with John really made me see that there are people out

they're suffering through things that are hard for others to imagine. If you know someone that is struggling, please reach out to them. It could honestly save a life. So, this was a few years back, and I was walking home from a friend's house after hanging at her place after school. It was around 9.30 p.m. in the summer, so the sun had, for the most part, set. It was relatively dark, but still bright enough. where I could make out the things around me.

I was stoned and was walking very slowly down the road to my house, which was only about a 20-minute walk away from my friends. The majority of my walk was spent on a straight, quiet, suburban street that was very familiar to me, as I had done this walk plenty of times before. After maybe five minutes of walking, I noticed the first and only car to drive past. It was an old, beat-up white Honda, which I didn't take much notice to until another few minutes passed and it drove by again.

Still, I wasn't concerned and continued about my walk admiring the cracks in the pavement, or doing whatever else a stoned 14-year-old does on a walk. Another minute passes, and this car drives by again. This time, more slowly, and I feel my stomach drop. I couldn't make out who was inside, but I knew that something was off. I've always been very timid, so I tried to convince myself that it was just paranoia and that I was being dramatic, until it drives past again, about two minutes later, and then parks maybe ten feet in front of me. As I approached the car, I kept my head down, but I hear a, hey there,

and sure enough I look up and there was a rough looking man who you could tell just from appearance alone that smelt like stale cigarettes and potty odor sitting in the driver's seat smiling at me the lack of teeth and dirty shirt that this man had on gave me a horrible vibe so I just gave a little smile back and continued walking

I look up and notice that he's driving alongside me and asks if I had directions to the closest gas station I stopped and pointed in the general direction and told him where to go, and that it was less than a five-minute drive. When out of nowhere he just started to laugh. I guess I just kind of stared in confusion and fear as he squinted his eyes at me, like he was trying to get a better look at my face. Then he said, I'll take a guess, but I think I can tell from those eyes, you've been smoking, little miss. I kind of just laughed and tried to walk away when he said, Hey, come back.

So I stopped in my tracks. Why I didn't just keep walking is beyond me, but I turned around and he pulls out a rather large bag of weed and asks if I want it. I tell him I'm okay and that I don't have any money. And he said something along the lines of, I don't need your money. Take it. I reassure him I'm fine. and that I don't need it. And I just try to continue walking, but nonetheless, he continues driving alongside me.

He then asked me if I needed a ride and tells me it's too dark to be walking home alone, which really frightened me. He continued trying to coerce me into his car, and I became more and more unsettled. I began to look for the closest house with the light on, and after finding one, I tell him, this is my house, good night, and then walk up some stranger's driveway and walk straight into their home. There was a middle-aged couple sitting in the living room, and they looked extremely shocked and equally angry, and I just started to sob out of shock and relief and apologize profusely.

I explained to them what just happened, and the very kind lady assured me that I did the right thing, and then gave me a ride home. Looking back, I probably should have knocked, but I was scared, under the influence, and still a child. And the homeowners were very understanding. This is still one of the scariest things that has happened to me, but I'm so glad that I trusted my gut and got away from the man whose intention seemed anything but pure. I still consider myself lucky that I even got away. Edit, thank you for all the positive responses. I'm guessing some of you were wondering whether or not the police were called.

They were. They took a statement from me, but because I hadn't remembered the plate number and didn't know what model or year the car was, nothing really came of it. The police were super unhelpful, and while taking my statement, the officer was super unprofessional and was almost yelling at me, telling me that I needed to speak up, which made me cry. Keep in mind that that was the day after, so I was still very shaken up by the whole ordeal, and I've always had a very quiet, shy nature to me, like I mentioned before. But there was an alert posted on the local school's website,

and the story did circulate around the community Facebook page, telling people to keep an eye out, and to make sure their children were accompanied while playing outside. I'm glad that my story helped potentially keep other children in my community, safe, but it was disheartening that they never caught the guy. I think a lot of people would probably say that their freshman year of high school was pretty rough. And I'm sure a lot of those people are right and had valid reasons as well.

I'm definitely not one to say that they were just being dramatic because I, too, had a pretty bad freshman year. I didn't like to talk about it for the longest time, because I'm definitely not one to talk about it for the longest time, because I had some pretty bad self-esteem issues as is, but I've healed, and have become a lot nicer to myself since then. Also, I've come to understand that I also didn't deserve or warrant any of this, so I have no reason to blame myself. As my story goes, I was going to be a freshman at our local high school.

New school, but it was the same school district, which, meant that I would at least have friends there so that we could all be nervous and stressed together. I was a pretty normal kid growing up, or so I thought. I was the oldest of four, so I was the first to go to high school. I wasn't outgoing, but I wasn't reclusive and shy either. I had a good amount of friends, and I did fine in school, too. I always passed my classes with minimal issues. I hated math, but I got through it, and I turned in a minimal amount of homework late. I didn't stand out in class or make myself known either. I was just there. But then things went a bit different in high school. Most of my classes were fine,

except for my chemistry class. Science was one of my favorite subjects, so I typically didn't have any issues, but chemistry. At least in depth as we went into this class, it seemed to be more of a challenge for me. That's a mention, the teacher did not help either. When I first started attending the class, I immediately got the feeling that Mr. Pendleton was going to be a hard ass. He was very curt in his speaking. He didn't really joke around and was always on a very specific schedule.

He would get upset very easily if someone interrupted him during a lecture, including slamming his hand down on the desk or the whiteboard. He would do this ear-piercing whistle to get people to pay attention. He was always just very intimidating. I always thought it was weird to the point that, if kids bothered you so much, why even be a high school teacher? Anyways, I did my best in that class. but I admittedly struggled with locating the elements on the periodic table and remembering their symbols.

I knew some of the common ones but struggled with the rest. I tried asking him for help, like if he had any suggestions on making it easier, but with a dead stare he looked at me and said, Just memorize it. It's not that hard. I walked away from that conversation thinking that I was truly in the wrong. as if I was the only one that ever had issues with it and that's how I took it. Over time, I did not get better in that class. I continued struggling with some of the topics,

and Pendleton did nothing to make me feel better about it. When I got my assignments back, he didn't just mark things as wrong. He would put some mean comments next to them, making me, again, feel like there was something wrong with me. We had a monthly quiz that we took going over all that we learned that month, and when he was passing out the graded quizzes, he would hand it to some saying things like, do better, study next time.

But never encouraging or optimistic words. Then he got to me. He flipped open my quiz and asked a question out loud, calling out a specific person to answer. He confirmed it was correct, and then pointed out to my incorrect. answer. He tossed my quiz at me and let the whole class know that I had the worst grade, singling me out. Everyone was staring at me, and I had never been more embarrassed.

I felt incredibly stupid at that point. I put my head down, feeling the eyes burning into me. I remember actually going to the restroom and crying. My parents did ask me about school and weren't dismissive, but they also didn't think the situation was that bad. I do blame myself for part of that, as I didn't really tell them how bad it was or how much I hated that class. I told them about how I didn't like the class, how the teacher was really unnecessarily mean, and how I seemed to be singled out. I showed them my assignments with his remarks. I told them about being embarrassed in class and how I did. seemed to be the only one affected by it.

They agreed that he seemed pretty mean, but said that they would talk to the principal about it. I even spoke to my friends and others that were in his class, and they all agreed that he was a complete jerk, but didn't understand why I was being picked on so much. Except one friend that usually excelled in a lot of classes. He basically blamed me saying that I needed to study more, and that he was just trying to push me to do better.

I wasn't friends with that person for much longer either. So while I waited and hoped that my parents would actually be able to make a difference, I tried to push through the harsh words and embarrassment and really worked my ass off to at least pass the class. I had friends that helped and devoted a lot of time to get through it. But I did it. When we took our quarterly test, I passed it with a low B, and I was very proud of myself.

Apparently, Pendleton was not impressed by this, though, as he slammed my test on the table and he made sure to ask out loud, did you copy off of X's test? X being the person that sat next to me. They looked at me funny, too, and actually started sitting somewhere else, so, yeah. That didn't make me feel better either. He said because he couldn't believe that I miraculously got better overnight.

I was pretty upset and quite frankly fed up with being treated like this, so I defensively told him no, and that I had studied more and he wasn't willing to help us. The room was silent, and the tension was thick, but I felt pretty good for saying it. Pendleton, however, was not amused, and told me that I needed to stay by behind after class. I was not looking forward to that, and in fact, I tried to blend in with everyone and leave at the same time, but he definitely noticed. He called me out with his booming voice halting me in my tracks. I waited by the door, and once everyone left, he told me to go over to his desk. He then asked me why I told the principal that he was bullying me. I replied

that I didn't say anything to the principal, which was true, and he yelled at me again saying that I was lying. He said some other unpleasant things to me, but for some reason, I was just over all of it, and I yelled back at him that I had told my parents that he was being a jerk, and that he shouldn't be a teacher. He responded back by slamming me against the whiteboard, holding me by my shirt and once again yelling some pretty hurtful things at me. I was honestly expecting him to try to hit or strangle me.

His face was beat red. I could see the veins in his temple bulging out. I was terrified. Thankfully, Miss Stewart in the class attached to the right, knocked and opened the door to see us in this position. I wish that she wouldn't have knocked because the knock was enough time for him to let go of me. but judging by the look on her face,

she knew that something was wrong. I was in tears and I walked towards her to leave. She asked me if I was okay and I said no, and Pendleton just sat back down at his desk. I went to the nurse and asked her to call my parents as I'd gotten sick, so she did. When my mom came to pick me up, I told her what happened,

and she immediately took me back to the school and to the office. She went to talk to someone about it, and I just remember sitting there worried that Mr. Pendleton was going to show up in the office. After that day, my mom would take me to school after the second hour, which was when I had his class, and I just collected my work for those first two classes. Miss Stewart also reported what she saw, so I guess having a witness was what gave the principal, or whomever,

the authority to suspend Mr. Pendleton. I was entirely relieved that he was gone, and I could tell that I wasn't the only one. The first couple of days without him were weird, but the sub definitely helped lighten the mood. By the end of it, though, we were all able to be less formal and actually had a little fun in the class.

I still had a hard time turning in tests and assignments, fearing that I was going to be made fun of, called out, and that anxiety bled over into my other classes as well. My freshman year was very difficult, and I struggled with myself image, as mentioned. It slowly got better over time, but I think I really had Miss Stewart to thank for that. She helped me build my confidence again and really assured me that it wasn't me, but Mr. Pendleton. She actually confided in me, saying that she had heard him shouting on many occasions and even at students from other and past classes, but that she had never seen him put his hands on any other student.

I still wonder today if I was the only one, or if there were others that just were never caught or never said anything. Hell, I still don't understand why I was singled out so hard. I know I wasn't the only one that wasn't doing well in the class, but I was the only one that seemed to be targeted. And I don't know why. He never did return to our school, and I did much better after that. I just hope that he was never able to teach again, if that is how he treated students. So I live in a pretty sketchy area where there are a good. crap ton of homeless people, some shootings have happened, and there's been times when people have

gotten kidnapped. I can't deny that I am an attractive girl, I'm 17 and around 5'4, but I do appear a bit older to some people, especially because I have tattoos and whatnot. The point is, men tend to approach me quite a bit, especially old men. I'm sort of used to them staring and cat-calling me, but I've never had anyone follow me before. On the weekend, I decided that I wanted an Arizona and some snacks, so I asked my mom if we could walk to the liquor store. It's a five-minute walk, so it wasn't far at all, but there are a lot of homeless people and prostitutes who just hang around the path to the store, so obviously you're going to be a bit on edge. I have three sharp pocket knives that I always carry on me, just in case anything happens whenever I'm out. There's nothing unusual happening.

I've walked to the store a handful of times, so I was pretty comfortable, especially since I had the pocket knives. I got onto the sidewalk and made eye contact with two men who were kind of eyeing me. It threw me off immediately, but I just kept walking. The parking lot was kind of full, so I did feel kind of relieved. I eventually got inside and got my snacks, but I noticed that one of the guys had come into the store right after I entered. I didn't notice this until I had realized that he was following me through the aisles, and I instantly felt my heart drop.

I saw him hovering over items as if he was looking, but he just didn't want to come off as suspicious to anyone else, since there were like five other people in there. I get in line, and he gets right behind me. At this point, I'm shaking, and my mind is racing. I paid for my snacks, and I started walking towards the door, but my gut knew that something was wrong. Like, really, really wrong. I'm very intuitive and sensitive to energy,

so I felt this time's ten. I instantly turned last minute and started looking at these gift cards right by the door, while the guy walked outside, so I assumed that he left. I called my mom and explained what had happened, so she came and picked me up in her car. She got there, and I walked outside, but what I didn't realize is that the dude was waiting for me, and he purposely stood to the left side of the door so that I couldn't see him anymore. I got into the car and my heart dropped when I noticed the whole parking lot was empty and there were actually two men waiting for me.

He walked up to his friend and started saying something in his ear and then they both just stared at me while we drove away. This scared me to my court. It's happened a couple more times now but this was the only time that there were two people instead of just the one. surgelley, Pugance Moines for 15 minutes.

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the conditions apply. I live on a main road in a kind of sketchy area. Not completely unsafe, but an area that I've posted about before on here

because of some of the creepy stuff that has happened to me. But this one is the creepiest. I had gone out around six for food. It recently snowed, and my city sucks at sidewalk plowing, so it's an Arctic exhibition for a few days walking through the deep snow and ice.

As I trudged through, I passed a man who lives in my neighborhood, and he can act strange. He walks oddly and can be pretty creepy at times. He passed me one way, I pass him the other, and we go separate ways. After I got my food, walking back, I thought that I saw him coming my way. I quietly, but out loud, said, Oh man, not him. But then that slowly faded away as this person walked off the path towards the church on the street. The church has a big LED sign, which you could hide behind.

As I got closer, I realized it was a younger man about my age, with a gray hoodie and beige cargo pants. He was acting strange. He walked like a Disney cartoon character, and his face had a big smile with eyes shifting at a million kilometers per hour. Then I saw as he looked at me approach, and quickly pulled his hood over his head and stepped beside the sign, obstructing my view of him.

I don't know if he saw me see him, but I realized what might be going down. I just stopped on the path. From the snow, it would have been too much to turn around and head back. My boots were getting sucked into the slushy, snowy path. I waited for a few moments, and he must have realized then that I knew because he came back out from the sign and went up to the church window. The church is also a community center,

and there's a room facing the street that kind of looks like a dance room with a large mirror. He took off his hood, and he started to fake dance around in front of the window. He kept looking back as if his little distraction would have been enough to end my interest in a what the hell is happening situation, but it didn't. It disturbed me more. When he realized that we made a sort of shuffle around each other, his smile disappeared and he kept trying to inch his way towards me, but he got bogged down in that same slush that I had stopped in.

After I got further away, I just watched as he put his hood up again and walked away normally, now towards the restaurant and mall that I had come from. This area gets stranger and stranger every day. This happened towards the end of my senior year of high school. and, unfortunately, is something that was just as memorable as the rest of the year. I will not be sharing my location or school, and any names I use will be fake, because, technically, I was not the victim here, so I don't want to invade their privacy any more than I already have.

I still feel it's important to share this story as a way of helping others and to stress the importance of, if you see something, say something. I don't know if it's the same for other high schools, but it was quite common for the seniors to pull some kind of massive prank on the school as a whole. They were supposed to be harmless. It was like a universal rule

so that no one got kicked out or suspended. It was also typically done around spring break, giving them time to execute it. So, to keep with tradition, several of us seniors, including myself, started plotting our scheme. The school was going to look like a glitter bomb went off at it. We had tons of glitter and confetti that we had bought from random party stores, and a few bulk bags on eBay for a stupidly cheap, possibly shady price. One of my friends, called Jesse, was our golden ticket as he was a teacher's aide,

which meant he had access to the rooms that had all the spare keys to the classrooms. We started the day before spring break started. There were a lot of teachers and faculty there, as they were probably wrapping things up for the break, so we waited outside in one of our cars while Jesse went in to look like he was working on some last-minute things for a teacher. After a few hours, people slowly started leaving, so he led us in through the south door and ushered us into different rooms. rooms to fulfill our plan. It started out completely smooth. We got through several classrooms, almost ran into one teacher but managed to hide from them. We all even got a good laugh about it too.

Then we came across the classroom of Mr. Jackson. Mr. Jackson was the media teacher, and he was actually pretty cool. I guess when it's an elective we tend to like those more anyways, right? The class was awesome. We made different media-related projects, such as our own radio broadcasts, recorded and put together a new session, including local-slash-national news topics, sports, and weather. It was actually a lot of fun, and interesting as Mr. Jackson used a lot of his own equipment. So, we were working with some very expensive and high-tech cameras, microphones, and even the software was pretty advanced.

Mr. Jackson was laid back, and easy to talk to when it came to anything from the assignments to more personal things. He was even a bit of a prankster himself. When he caught someone sleeping, he would do something harmless, such as having us all leave the room, turn the lights off, and have them wake up confused. Like I said, pretty harmless. So when we came across his room, I didn't want to do anything to the equipment, but I wanted to do something additional or extra to his room, knowing that he would appreciate the prank. I started looking around the room to get ideas of what to do when I started going through his desk. In the bottom drawer, I found several tapes similar to the ones we used for our projects. In fact, I recognized the names of some of my classmates on them.

However, I also found two tapes that only had a label of Class of 92. This caught my attention because, at the time of this event, it was not the year of 1992 or 93, or even in the 90s for that matter. My curiosity now peaked, I decided to take one with me. thinking I could use it for the prank, or maybe it was a memorable class and could do something special for him as a farewell or a graduation gift. In regards to the prank, I just covered his desk with glitter and filled one of the tape cabinets with it too. I had two friends with me in that room that saw me with the tape, and wanted to know what was honored as well. So I agreed to let them know or watch it with them if they wanted.

We left the school that evening, mission successful, and agreed to watch the tape the next day at my place since I had a VCR in my room. However, I couldn't stop thinking about the tape and what could be on it, or what could be so important to keep that specific year. So, I decided to watch it that night and would just let my friends see it the next day. I know you all have probably already figured out where this is going, but, to this day, I still fight myself if taking that tape was the right thing to do. The tape started during what appears to be a graduation ceremony and then cuts to that same classroom. The room was almost completely empty.

A few people walked past the camera and you could hear the door close. What was still on the camera was a girl in the second row from the front. Then, I watched Mr. Jackson walk by the camera, towards the door, and then started talking as he walked towards the girl. There was some innocent conversation occurring at first. He asked her how she was doing, how her older sister was, and even what her plans were for winter break. Then, the conversation changed to the homework or projects.

She shyly asked him about how to do something, and he pulled out another camera, as well as a sheet, and started explaining it. But while this was happening, is where my son is where my son is, stomach started to drop. I saw Mr. Jackson place his hand on her knee, and then said something quietly to her. I could see their faces, and she definitely did not seem interested in this, nor reciprocate in any way. There was some more one-sided conversation while his hand moved from her knee to her thigh. I was frozen with fear and disgust.

After about 20 minutes, the tape cut back to the ceremony. and there was nothing else after that. It was pretty obvious what this was, and the ceremony was used as a mask. I was terrified. I knew Mr. Jackson, and, in fact, I knew the girl in the video. We had a different class together,

but I was only an acquaintance with her, really, but I did have a friend that was pretty close to her. I didn't know what to do or who to show this to, since we technically shouldn't have been in the school at the time. I was still a kid, so I didn't know if I would get in trouble if I told them. Instead, I tried to ask my mutual friend to talk to her, but I tried to be vague,

not wanting to talk about the situation. My mutual friend, Katie, did not take the media class, so I asked her to ask the girl about the class, ask her if she had troubles and how she felt about the teacher or assignments. The next day, Katie asked me if I was having troubles in the class because of the girl's reaction. She said she thought the class was okay, but when Katie asked about the teacher, she got quiet and didn't want to talk about it. So she assumed that she wasn't doing well in it. The feeling of something being very wrong only got heavier in my mind.

It was still spring break at the time, so I could only dwell on it. I even admitted to my friends that I tried watching it, but that something was wrong with it, and it didn't work. I didn't want them to see it for their, and more importantly, her sake. When we did return to school, I found myself watching him more closely, and realized that he was the same as I remembered him. except I saw him glance over at the girl many times throughout the hour that we were in class. That night, when I got home, I told my parents everything. I told them about how I found the tape and what was on the tape. I gave it to them, but I don't know if they ever watched it.

I assumed they did because what I was accusing a teacher of was very real and very serious. I can be quite the jokester and always tried to keep the conversation light-hearted. This is not something I would ever bring up in a joking manner. So, I'm sure my parents trusted me on that front, too. They told me that they would take care of it, and that I needed to just go to school as normal. The rest of that week, I tried my best to act normal,

but it was hard to not want to go off on Mr. Jackson. It was hard to not want to go off on Mr. Jackson. It was hard to not want to go to that girl and tell her that I was sorry for what she went through, but I didn't. Thankfully, I only had to go two days like that. The third day, we had a substitute teacher. Everyone took it at face value that we were just getting a free day, but I think I knew the real reason. The rest of the week continued with that same sub, and then we were told the next week that Mr. Jackson wouldn't be able to finish the school year. I was so relieved, but also concerned as the girl wasn't in the class that next week either.

The rumors started to spread pretty fast in the school. Someone claimed they actually saw the police at Mr. Jackson's home, and then they tried to determine why. Then, many of the students started talking about how Mr. Jackson was pretty creepy, or how something about him was off. then there were rumors that some student came forward with certain claims and then the local news and letters sent home to our parents confirmed that this wasn't a rumor

but the truth the rest of this was information that I either got from the news my parents or people around the school he was charged with multiple things and went to prison that I knew but then I learned that when the girl was confronted she told her parents and authorities what happened, and several other girls came forward with claims as well. They also mentioned that there were multiple tapes found with not only similar things to what I saw,

but others where he seemed to stalk the girls. I was also friends with a guy whose sister actually came forward, which made me feel like all the other claims were probably true too. I mean, there was physical proof of at least one, and he was brave enough to keep it at school, So I absolutely believed there would be more than just the one. The first girl that I saw in the video stopped going to our school, and I learned that she was homeschooled. Sometimes I want to stop by her home to see how she was doing, but I didn't want to worry her or her family when a strange Kai showed up. Obviously, this has been many years ago, and we've all since graduated.

I don't know whatever happened to that girl, and I don't think she even knew that I may have been the one that put the whole thing in motion, but I hope that she's doing okay. So, I know it wasn't exactly me that was affected, but it was still pretty terrifying to see, not to mention, knowing that I had to have had some impact in changing some people's lives. Who knows how long he may have continued with this horrible act,

if I had just kept that to myself. I'm going to tell you about an event that happened to me quite recently. For practical and economic reasons, I use the taxi service. The fixed price, which costs me less than taking my vehicle, especially given the place where I live, as already said, an ultra-rural village, isolated from all cities, and where to go to the bank or go shopping,

You have to go 10 to 20 kilometers. In general, the taxi service I use is ultra-professional. Recent vehicles, clean, maintained, friendly drivers, always a friendly, random conversation, always on time, and almost always the same drivers. And one day, three to four weeks ago, I was given a new driver, but nothing special. And it was the same, impeccable. service, we're talking about rain and good weather, nothing to really complain about. Two weeks ago, this gentleman who already told me to call him by first name, gave me his age,

his nationality, information that came out of nowhere. And he continued his conversation by explaining that he bought a connected printer but couldn't get it to be recognized by his smartphone. I tried to give him advice and it stops there. but again I'm just there he's in too much of an enthusiastic mood for my taste I don't pay much attention to it he starts to talk about his printer again

and blurts out to me you work in this field you can help me I can't do it I can't get it connected if you want you should add me on messenger since we had arrived at my destination I stammered an answer just something like Yeah, I'll think about it later.

But I didn't know this guy. I never talked about my work. Yes, I am a computer technician, among other things, though. I did think about it afterwards, and it's information that is easily found on Facebook. For example, even if my profile is not fully public. I ended up forgetting about this, since I had to help a friend,

mired in a complicated divorce where there was domestic violence. Suffice it to say, this divorce worried me a lot more, and that moment with the taxi, it wasn't that important. Except when I had to leave, I had to call another taxi. And wouldn't you know it, it was this driver again. I was hesitant to get in. I had a sudden urge to just get out of the vehicle, and he said hello to me, but then used my first name.

He then started asking me questions about my father's health, and even made a few jokes about it. I specify that once again I never mentioned my first name, nor had I ever mentioned my father to this driver. Suffice it to say, that trip was heavy, and I was completely silent. I did what I needed to do, and, then in the store parking lot,

I called the taxi center to order a taxi for the return. The gentleman replies that there's already a vehicle that has just dropped off another person and that I can meet with them and notify them that they could pick me up. I arrived at the car, and, as expected, it was that driver. He had a big smile.

He helped me with my bags by placing himself behind me, against the trunk, and then put his hand on my back. He kind of caressed it. It made my blood run cold. The driver then asks me to get in the front, because the rear doors have a problem unlocking. I just want to run away, quickly, very quickly.

I get in the seat, telling myself it's just 10 kilometers by car and it'll go quickly, and I tried to hide my emotions. That was a mistake. This driver started talking to me and asking questions trying to get answers out of me. Questions very focused on sex. Increasingly disgusting questions. Saying things like, You get compliments when you finish a man?

Have you ever tried the Moroccan cigar? Illusion to the fact that I had bought cigars. He said all this with this just awkward sense. smile, putting his hand near me, moving it in my direction, while I was trying to cram myself against the door, holding on to the handle, and planning to unlock it quickly. Doors, which, by the way, seemed to have no problem, since it didn't indicate that there were any issues. And, of course, instead of taking the shortest route, he took the longest, which makes the time go from 10 to 15 minutes to almost 50 minutes in an ultra-isolated wooded path.

I just responded vaguely to his comments or tried to make little jokes hiding my growing anxiety. I don't know. I don't really want to know what this guy was up to. We got to my house. I jumped out, grabbed all my bags in one go and went home. And while I was at home in the hour that followed, this driver tried to message me on WhatsApp. I blocked him immediately. I didn't even read it. After calming down a bit, I contacted the taxi company and explained this situation.

The gentleman asked me, Are you talking about this guy? And I answered in the affirmative. And then he told me, in a very mafia-like tone, Don't worry, we'll take care of it. At the end of this, I said to myself,

that I may not have been the first to report him, which is kind of scary. And with his, we'll take care of it, I decided to look into another taxi service. This whole thing is still spinning in my brain. P.S., I forgot to specify it in the story, and would like to remain as anonymous as possible, but I'll say that I'm Belgian, and I am a man. This really changes nothing. Whether you're a woman, a man, an adult, a teenager, or a child, this is not acceptable behavior.

I genuinely have no clue why I haven't said anything about this yet, considering so much weird stuff happens in my life. But this was probably one of the creepiest encounters I've ever had, and I feel lucky that I walked away. One summer night a few years ago, I was out for a drive with a friend. We decided to make a little late night stop at a nearby waterfall for a smoke session, since it was always super dead and really peaceful in the evenings.

This specific time, I didn't make it anywhere near the waterfall. As we were getting out of the car, I, 19 female at the time, really had to pee. Now, I used to go to this waterfall very often. and I know the area like the back of my hand, even in the dark. So I went and found a spot where it was too dark for me to see more than maybe two feet in front of me and tried to stay as close to the forest exit as possible, without being seen by a semi-busy road. The entire time I was up there, I absolutely know that I was being watched.

Very closely. I ended up getting out of there as fast as freaking possible, jumping in the car and locking the doors. That entire time, I could feel someone's eyes digging into me like daggers. I was genuinely ready to be grabbed. What confirmed that I was definitely being watched happened when I got back to the car. I saw a kid run across the street, directly up to where I was. He came from nowhere, literal cliff on one side, hence the waterfall.

and I could genuinely only describe him as the little boy from the jungle book, clothing and all. I get majorly weird vibes every time I go there now that I never, ever got before. It still has a weird feeling in the day. I genuinely don't even know how this happened so quickly. That kid would have had to have scaled a large cliff and moved at a super, super high speed. I'm going with the most logical explanation, in my city, which is people living in the woods, with possible ulterior motives.

But at this point, I'm not ruling anything out. This was by far the weirdest and creepiest encounter I have had in a long time that I recall, and it has honestly just kind of stuck with me. I hate going to this waterfall now, which absolutely sucks, because it's so close to my house. and it's absolutely gorgeous. I don't know. I just got the weirdest vibes.

Also, just before anyone says anything, I know how stupid this was. But I was 19, and I'm stubborn as all Christ, so nothing would have talked me out of peeing in a place where I need a flashlight. Safe to say, I've never been back up to that part of the park since. I, female, 26, had recently moved into a duplex by myself, away from a messy house situation with my four male housemates.

It was an oasis of rugs, plants, and an acceptable level of tidiness. One night, around 9 or 10 p.m., I was watching TV and probably smoking, because I was bad for that then, when I heard a knock at the door. I opened it. I know. And there was a really scruffy-looking guy. Maybe early 30s, just standing on my porch. He seemed drunk or high and mumbled something at me about coming inside. Unprepared for this kind of interaction, I dumbly said the words to the effect of,

You're not coming in. I don't know you. Though he didn't seem to understand. He gave really off, vibes and then mumbled something about meeting someone at a bar and having drinks with her. I thought maybe he meant to knock on my neighbor's door, a maybe 40-year-old sweet but pretty rough lady that I had met a few times. I pointed out her door and, to my relief, was right, and he left. I locked and chained my door and pulled my blinds right down as my living room was fully visible from the porch.

That should have been the end of it. But I had a really uneasy feeling from then on, like I was a sitting duck. I will mention that I was a people-pleaser and was too busy worrying about hurting his feelings to immediately slam the door in his face like I should have, and these days I would have. Fast forward six hours in the dead of the night.

I still had my living room lights on, which would have been partially visible from the edges of my blinds. I was still up because, stoner, and I think I had just walked into the bedroom when I heard it. The softest, quietest, don't wake the neighbors knocking on my door. My gut fell out of my butt, and I was rooted to the spot, looking unbelievably at my door as he gently knocked 30, maybe 40 times continuously.

It was ages before I was able to move, to think, or do anything. I called my boyfriend and told him in a frantic whisper what was happening, and I think he told me to say that I've called the cops and to leave right now. I did so, in a pathetic, shaking voice, and then heard silence. Too scared to move closer, I stood frozen, half in my bedroom, half in my living room,

half in my living room for an eternity, until I believed he was gone. The next morning, my boyfriend visited and dragged me over to my neighbor. She told us that he was a really weird guy that she had invited over and then regretted, later kicking him out. She didn't go into details, but she was very concerned about his coming back to my door. My boyfriend made her text him and share all of the awful things that would personally happen to him if he ever knocked on my door again, which, thankfully, he never did.

Hey there, friends. That was today's episode of the As the Raven Dreams podcast, and I really hope that you all enjoyed this collection of scary stories. If you did, please do consider checking out my YouTube channel where I do these same stories, but a little bit earlier than I do them here on the podcast form. and also in slightly different collections. If you really enjoy the podcast,

please do consider giving it a rating of any sort if the platform you're listening on has ratings. Any honest rating is appreciated by me, be it five star, one star, however you want to do it. Just know that rating the podcast helps tremendously. And if you would like to support further, I do have a Patreon and channel memberships if you'd like to do things on the YouTube side,

where for as little as a dollar a month they get early access to my content. Never ever expected, but always appreciated. That said, friends, I hope that I do see you on the next episode of this podcast. And of course, until then,

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