As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 111 - Crazy Ex lover And Other True Scary Stories - 13 True Scary Stories

Episode Date: February 16, 2024

Welcome to the chilling 111th episode of The ATRD Podcast! Today, we will step into the shadowy corners of reality, where everyday life takes an eerie twist & ordinary people experience the extraordinary. Today we will be diving into stories about... So, turn down the lights, tune in, and let the haunting tales of everyday people take you down that dark and creepy road. Remember, these aren't just stories... these are true experiences that remind us that our world can truly be scarier than fiction. 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... ByronW, C-AphrodiTEE, D.R, YouAreWorthIt, William, Maria B, Hallow, Wise-Stranger-5245, Bubble_animator4071, hanhawks, And any authors that requested anonymity. '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

If you have a story you would like to hear featured on this podcast, please go to ashtherravendreams.com and click the button to submit your story. Also, if the platform you're listening on has the option to rate this podcast, please consider doing so. And thank you. I've been listening to your videos for a while now, and I'm one of your older viewers, I guess you could say. I thought that you might be interested in my story about my ex because she was probably the best and worst thing to happen to me, for reasons you will soon understand, as well as the cause for one of the scariest things to happen to me in my life. So, here goes. Ronda and I attended high school together and had an on and off relationship. Our time was tumultuous, swinging between great days and

intense fights, sometimes leading to temporary breakups. We were both young and immature, struggling to comprehend our emotions. Rhonda displayed controlling and, at times, abusive behavior, resorting to slapping and punching me when angry. Despite the physical aggression, I never retaliated. I only tried to restrain her. My communication skills were lacking, which I'm sure did not help our relationship. Then, as graduation approached, we mutually agreed to end the roller coaster.

parting ways and never crossing paths again, as if that chapter of our lives never existed. But then we had people trying to set up our 10-year high school reunion. I was working with my dad at his home repair and carpentry business, and had inherited my grandparents' home by this time, so I was pretty comfortable with where I was in life. I went to the reunion expecting to reconnect with some old friends, but it was not anticipating rekindling old flame. Rhonda showed up as well and she looked incredible.

We started talking and it was as if no time had passed. We connected immediately and as we talked we both seemed the same but had obviously grown up and matured. We agreed to meet up after the reunion and the rest was history. After dating for about a year, I proposed to Rhonda and we had a fantastic life. We even had two little girls, Rebecca and Caitlin. Rhonda was working as a substitute teacher, and I was still working with my father. When we married, we moved into my house, of course, as she was living in a much smaller house. There was nothing but love between the two of us and our children, raising them in a very loving and supportive home for many years.

But then we could both tell that we were growing apart. Rhonda didn't seem to be happy with where she was occupation-wise. I encouraged her to do what made her happy. If she wanted to do something else, if she wanted to go back to school, whatever she wanted. Because it was my dad's business, I made great money and we were in no way struggling, so even if she didn't work and just focused on school, we would have been fine. But nothing I suggested seemed to make her happy. However, she either refused to tell me what she really wanted,

or she didn't know what she wanted, so we were always in this never-ending cycle of her being unhappy, and us not being able to come up with a solution. So, after a long and serious talk, we decided the best thing for everyone would be a divorce. Rhonda told me that while she still loved and cared for me, she felt like she settled down too fast. and there was still a lot that she wanted to do.

She even mentioned how she loved our girls, but thinks that she became a parent too fast. It was heartbreaking, but I appreciated her being honest and up front instead of doing something behind my back and hurting me and our girls. But since part of this was her not wanting to be a full-time parent, and since the home was mine, we agreed that I would keep the girls with me

and she could see them whenever she wanted, and they could go see her or stay with her whenever they wanted, as long as it didn't interfere with their schooling. At the time, Kate was six years old and Becca was four when we divorced. I didn't kick Rhonda out either. And, in fact, I offered to move down to the finished basement so that she could have our bedroom until she found her own place. I still loved her, and she was the mother of my mother.

kids, so I wouldn't feel right leaving her homeless. She did end up moving out a few weeks after our divorce was final, but to my surprise, it was with another man. I was upset at first, thinking that she had moved on too quickly, or maybe she found him while we were together, but I guess I'll never know the truth. But regardless of it all, life continued on and I did my best. The girls still had questions and at times expressed how they missed their mom, but I made sure they always had access to her, be it by phone or visiting with her. But one day while I was making dinner for us,

I had a knock on my door and was served with custody papers. I was blindsided on this, not to mention confused and betrayed. We had agreed that we would share custody, but that was apparently no longer accepted. I tried calling her about this, but all she would say, or rather scream, was that she wanted her girls back and that she would do whatever it took to get them. Attending the hearings, I was told that in order for me to be able to consider custody, a social worker would have to do random check-ins on my home and meet with the girls alone for interviews. All of this because Rhonda claimed my home was not safe. and even worse, said that I was an unfit father.

For the first time and a long time, I was livid. I would never do anything to hurt my girls, and the home was always fine. They even had their own rooms with everything they could need, clothes that fit, a good bed, food, shower, and a solid roof over their head. And I cannot stress it enough that I would never lay a finger on them. I would probably go to jail

if I found out anyone had. So where did any of this come from? And why would she do this to me? But I played her games and followed all the rules. I got a lawyer and fought tooth and nail to prove all of her claims were false. The girls met with the workers and confirmed they were happy in that they liked their home. They even said they didn't want to move, but that they did want to see their mom more. And I can't blame them for that.

Ronda only seemed to want to see them on the weekend, and when they called her she didn't talk long to them. I can't force her to do more than that, though. Overall, I won custody as she didn't even have a home for them. She was still living with her boyfriend, which was at his mom's house, so the girls would have to share a room, if anything. She was awarded every other weekend with them, which technically made her lose time with them, but is what it is. I allowed her to have them any weekend she or the girls wanted. When all was said and done, I was pretty upset. I tried to do whatever I could to avoid putting our girls through that.

To avoid them being asked awful questions, but that's not what Rhonda wanted. But after it was over, we moved on to try and have the most normal life that we could. The girls were still happy. It's been a little over a year since our divorce, since all of our lives changed, but this was our new normal. I expected to have to split up weekends, summers, and holidays for the foreseeable future, until Becca was 16. So when they went to their moms for the weekend,

the last weekend before school started for the year, I expected it to just be another trade-off. We had a normal meeting spot in times, so when I showed up and didn't see her, I called her. No answer. It was a bit strange, but I thought that she was just running late. And maybe that was why she didn't answer. I tried the home phone that she gave me and her boyfriend answered.

When I asked for Rhonda, he hung up. Confused and annoyed, I tried her cell phone again and it went straight to voicemail. I started to become alarmed. What was happening? Was she truly ignoring me maliciously? Or did something happen to her? I called her sister to see if she knew anything. Her sister, Charlotte, was not as close to her as she used to be.

Her sister actually testified during the custody battle, but she was on my side. She told me that she felt something was going on with Rhonda that she wasn't talking about, and that she did not like her new guy. The odds that she knew anything was slim, but I needed to know what was going on. Unfortunately, she didn't know where she was either, but tried calling around too. I drove out to their home, but there were no cars in the driveway and no one answered the door. I was starting to panic, and in the back of my mind, I feared that she had left with the girls. Would she really try to run away with them?

I know how she used to be in high school, but I thought that was left behind. Was the old Rhonda back? would she really try to do something to them? The only thing I had left was to call the cops and report them all missing. They checked the numbers that I had and the home with the same results. I had to show them proof of custody, and they then classified this as a kidnapping. My ex-wife was now being looked at for possible kidnapping.

This was my life, and I was terrified. They put a bolo out for her and her car, but that's all we could really do. I had to wait to see if they found her and my kids. I drove around anywhere that I could try to find them with no luck. Three days. I went three whole days, not hearing from my girls or my ex-wife. I didn't know if they left the state, if they were in danger, abandoned and left somewhere, or, God forbid, even dead on the side of the road.

I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I could do nothing but drive around or wait by the phone hoping to hear something, anything to know that they were okay. But then I got a phone call on my landline from an unrecognized number. I answered it, and I heard a familiar voice. It was Becca. She sounded scared and said that she remembered our phone number

and that she wanted to come home. She told me they were in a hotel and that their mom wouldn't wake up. I clung to that phone as I helped her try to find something with an address on it. She was seven, so she knew her numbers and could identify the letters, and, with helping to spell it out and filling in the blanks,

I had a location. Just as I feared. They were already two states away. I told her to stay on the phone, not wanting to lose her, and I called the cops on my cell phone. They were able to find the hotel in the room they were in. They got my girls, and after a quick check-up at the hospital,

they were free to come back home to me. I took the next available flight that I could to get them, and Rhonda's sister actually drove out there to pick us up. The aftermath was just as messy. Becca explained the best that she could what all happened that weekend. The day that I dropped them off, Rhonda told them they were going on a trip. From there, she drove them across Ohio, through Indiana, and Becca called me from a hotel in Illinois. She said that she was scared because her mom kept trying to get the girls to drink something,

and she said that it smelled funny, but every time she refused, Rhonda would just become angrier. But when they were in the hotel, she said that she was really mad. and yelled at them, and at the walls until she took some medicine, and they couldn't wake her up the next day. They were in that room most of the day with no food, only had the water from the sink to drink, and that's when she tried to use the phone to call me. I was heartbroken. What was she trying to get them to drink? Rhonda did end up waking up, and she turned out okay, but she had apparently taken several sleeping pills,

is why the girls couldn't wake her. She denied the whole funny smelling drink thing, though, and claimed that she had no idea what they were talking about. Ultimately, she was charged with violating a court order, but the kidnapping charges were dropped. Part of that was my choice. I didn't want to see her go to prison and the girls not be able to see their mom anymore. I know a lot of people, like my ex-sister-in-law, would call me stupid,

but it's hard to explain if you don't have kids or haven't experienced something like this. She now gets supervised visitations, which is better than nothing. I know that she was also told that she had to go to therapy as part of the deal to see the girls. So I hope that's helped. I still don't know what caused any of this. I could understand if she wasn't happy with the marriage, but to do this to our kids was unexpected and terrifying. It's been almost a decade since this happened, but thankfully neither of them seem to remember it.

Or at least, they don't seem to hold it against their mom. I just hope that they know how much they are loved and how much I am willing to do to keep them safe. Lazzang surgelley, puissance-molyne, for 15 minutes. We'd say that's their dojo. Pre-to-joo? Vive the pleasure with the Ojo. more recent machine-a-sou and the game of casino

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for you help you know. This actually happened to me only a couple of weeks ago.

I work part-time in a clerical job. It's not an exciting job and it really doesn't

matter to the story. It just matters that I was working and that on that day I had

gotten how late due to there being extra work for me to do. It was unfortunate that it was so late because I was hungry and didn't really want to stay up later to make something to eat, but I also have a bit of an aversion to fast food. Nothing against people who eat it, but anytime I go to McDonald's or Wendy's, I end up getting really sick.

Anyways, I decided that I would stop by the 24-hour supermarket on my way home, pick up something quick for tonight, and then get something that I could put in the slow cooker tomorrow morning, since tomorrow was likely going to be as late as today. I pulled in, the parking lot was pretty much empty, with the exception of a couple of cars here and there. I found a spot close to the entrance that was under one of the parking lot lights. As I got out and was walking towards the door,

I heard another car pulling in, one that I couldn't help but pay attention to. It was making these awful popping and clanking sounds as it chugged into the lot. It was an old rusty-looking sedan that had obviously seen better days, but, hey, we've all been there, right? I watched as it crawled into the lot and around to an empty spot a few down from mine. Then watched an older gentleman, wearing a green jacket and a baseball cap get out, and that was pretty much the end of it in my mind. as I was walking the aisles trying to think of something to make in the slow cooker, I turned and noticed that the Green Jacket Man was in the same aisle as me.

This wouldn't have been a big deal, except that when I looked back and saw him, he did the whole avert your eyes so they don't think you're staring at them thing. Except he was about as subtle as a drunk moose. He was staring at me wide-eyed, and very quickly turned his head to look at the shelf behind him. It was a bit weird, but I decided that he may have just been a bit of a creep and kept on, making my way out of the aisle and a few down to get away from him.

I walked down the aisle and then out into the main opening towards the dairy section in the back. And, to no surprise, there Greenjacket was, staring at me in a way that made my skin crawl. It wasn't just the whole stare. It was this weird, creepy grin that he had. while he stared. I know some people will say that it wasn't a big deal, that I should have just gotten over it, that he was just looking at me or thought that I was attractive,

but it was skeevy, and my instincts were telling me that he had ill intent. I thought about confronting him, telling him to screw off, but decided against it, and decided that it was best to just get my food and go. I walked through the aisle that I knew I knew, needed to go through, grabbed something really quick, and turned to walk toward the registers. But when I turned to walk that way, Greenjacket was standing in the middle of the aisle with that

same purvey grin. Now, I'm normally a pretty reserved person, and the only reason I even considered confronting him earlier was because I didn't appreciate the look that he was giving me. But beyond that, I do not like confrontation. but part of me knew that I was going to have to face Green Jacket head on, and that he was not going to go away or leave me alone. So I started walking toward him and said very loudly, Excuse me, I need to get through. I said it loud enough that anyone in the aisles nearby would have hurt me,

hoping that at least making a scene like this would be enough to dissuade him. It did not. as soon as I said this and tried to push through, he put his arm out and seemed to try to hug me. I think that's what he was trying to do, but I'm not really sure. It was like he was trying to wrap his arms around me and put me into a hug. I immediately jumped back and was able to get out of his attempted grab, and I asked him what the hell he was doing.

He laughed and made a comment about how I looked like I wanted to have fun. tonight. Which, I don't know if that was a comment on how I was dressed or something, but I was dressed as business casual, so no idea. I told him that I needed to get past him and that he needed to get out of my way and to not touch me. He once again laughed and said, What if I want to touch you?

How are you going to stop me? That was probably the most terrifying thing anyone has ever said to me. and the fact that this guy was willing to say this and make this scene in the middle of a grocery store, it was pretty telling. I reached down to my key ring that was in my pocket. I had a clip on pepper spray attached to them, and I pulled it up. As I did, I yelled, You need to leave me alone, or else I will pepper spray you.

I yelled it loud, loud enough that an employee walked over to see what was going on. When he noticed that we were being watched, he aggressively looked at me and said, As soon as you step out into that parking lot, you're done for. And then turned to walk to the end of the aisle and out the front door. The employee walked over and asked me if I was okay and what had happened. I explained that the guy was being a total creep and what he had said, and then mentioned that he had threatened me at the end there. The employee told me that he wanted to be.

wanted me to come up front and talk to the manager, and that they would call the police since he had threatened me like he did. I thanked him, asked if I could make my purchase, and he nodded saying that he would ring me up. We got to the front, I bought my food, and then explained to the manager what had happened. I told him what the guy had said and that he had attempted to grab me or hug me or whatever, and what he had said there at the end, and the manager agreed that I should stay inside. and that they would call the cops to make sure this guy wasn't outside waiting. I stood there and waited with them for what felt like forever, thinking that this guy was probably gone by now.

I started thinking that I should go ahead and go, that this guy's threats were empty, that he was just trying to get to me, but my thoughts were interrupted by a police officer shouting, Drop the gun, drop the gun, or I will shoot you. That pretty much dragged me right back to reality and put a little. lot into perspective about this situation. After a few moments of watching something happened through the glass, I couldn't see all of it

because we were off to the side, I watched the officers wrestle green jacket to the ground and put him in cuffs. So, to wrap this up a bit, they'd gotten the call about a suspicious man, and they were told that he mentioned he would be waiting for me in the parking lot. They started walking toward the building, and apparently they noticed this guy, standing off to the side in the dark. And he was very clearly holding a gun in his hand. There was a brief fight with him, but he gave up pretty quick when he was outnumbered three officers to just him.

So apparently Greenjacket was 100% waiting for me to leave. He was hoping that I didn't take his threat literally, and he was armed. I don't know if he was going to just shoot me and leave me for dead, or if he was going to drag me to his car, but I'm thankful that I took his threat seriously, and that the employees were willing to listen to me. There was a lot more talking to the police than I had ever wanted that night, but after talking to them about what he had done in the store,

backed up by camera footage, everything was pretty well settled. They could see this guy had intent to do something nefarious, and that he was planning to make good on his threat. They took him and one of the officers walked me to my car and followed me home to make sure that nothing else happened, though I'm pretty sure none of us expected anything more to happen. Considering the time I didn't even bother eating dinner that night, I just went to bed.

I'm thankful that nothing more happened, that I was more or less saved by the employee and the police, and that this random dude ended up in cuffs. Obviously, I've been a slight bit haunted by this ever since, and I've been a bit nervous to go out at night alone. But hopefully, this is temporary, and I can get back to life here soon. Oh, and creep in the green jacket,

I hope you get to serve some major time for your actions, and I hope that we never meet again. I want to explain that I grew up in a new, time without computers or internet or video games are much of the things that you younger people take for granted i barely know how to use email on this laptop my wife has to help me with a lot i don't know how to find these sites or blogs or much of anything so sending these stories to this site is the best that i can do i'm lucky that i can almost type from reading some of these stories i gather the person that has this place or sight is called Raven.

I tried to send in some other things from my time on this earth, and I hope they made it through. I just feel that I need to get some of this stuff out there before I'm gone. I really don't care if anyone believes me, but I thought that maybe someone out there would maybe have experienced something similar. I've told a very few people about this. Only two others. I've never written it out. First, let me tell you that this happened quite some time ago.

It was 1968, and I was in high school. I had several friends and we all hung out together, did the usual stuff that young guys do. But back then, it was our misfortune to have to walk pretty much anywhere we wanted to go in town. Not everyone was born into money. None of us, anyway. There was a scenic drive park slash golf course

That was five blocks from our area And most all of us guys lived within a block or two of each other I was close friends with one kid I'll call him guy He was a year younger than me And we used to hang out Go fishing and check out the girls Usual young guy stuff

One day Something happened that changed us inside. We used to go to that park and just walk around and see what was going on there. Maybe someone might be flying their model planes. It was common to cut through some of the wooded area for the shortcut. Heck, we knew that park better than the back of our own hands. Guy and I had walked clear around the park and got bored with being there

and decided to head back home. So, we got to this one trail that went up and led through a wooded air. area. It was a fair-sized area, maybe half a football field, five or six large old trees in the middle of the area, with trees and bushes all the way around the

edge, and three side slopes downward, steeply. The other end is flat, and opens out to the Park Blacktop Drive, and one of the exits is right there within a couple hundred feet. There was a dirt and gravel drive that led into the area from the Park

road, and there was a stand of medium-sized trees and sticker bushes and downed limbs. It was on the east side of the drive. The other side of that dirt drive was fairly open. We could take the path and take a shortcut or go on the park road, and then have to walk up a long hill and around some curves that would take longer. So, shortcut it was. The trail was partially covered, being more just a pathway through and up. We got

to the flat area, where it opened up and kind of followed closer to the east side, and we're almost to the other end and close to the drive. As we got close to a tree, we heard a noise down the hill to the east. We thought that we could hear voices,

and we figured that it was just some kids coming up an old trail that was never used anymore. We knew that there used to be a trail because there were very old logs for steps that were there. But it was so old and overgrown that no one used it anymore. It sounded like someone was coming up and it had to be kids. What adult would want to use that? So, we decided that we were going to scare the crap out of some kids. We climbed up in the tree about 25 feet and waited for them to come out into the clearing so that we could freak them out. Well, it didn't turn out like we thought.

and we waited for a few minutes. It sounded like someone was almost to the top and then nothing. Our attitudes were mild back then. We kind of said bummer and just sat up in the tree for a while. Just talking about stuff. And then Guy made this really strange gagging sound. I looked over at him and I didn't know what the heck was wrong with him. He made a funny gagging and gurgling sound and his eyes were pretty large.

and he was looking down. Then he pointed and said, Look. I looked where he was pointing and I saw it right away. There was a hand, partially sticking out from under the bush at the top of that old trail. It had kind of long fingers that were grayish brown color,

kind of hair colored. But then I caught the eyes. There was a pair of red-colored eyes looking up at us. We watched for a few seconds, and when it looked like the eyes blinked, that was when we went into panic mode. We were trying to break off branches that we thought we might be able to use as a club or a weapon. Well, the tree was winning. When we looked down again, whatever was there was gone.

I looked all around, but couldn't see anything. We waited for a few seconds and then decided to make a run for it. We climbed down slowly, watching all around, and when we got to the last eight feet, we jumped and ran for the drive that led into the area. Now, this is the part that I can't forget. We were running fairly quick, I thought, across the clearing to that drive. Guy was just behind me when I heard him scream. I looked back as he passed me up. I saw something run from that bush, a close.

cross the clearing, and into the trees and sticker brush on the east side of the drive to our left. Guy was ahead of me now, and I definitely made the attempt to catch up and pass him. What I saw was just not right. The top half was built like a person, but that's where it stops. It was hairy all over, at least inch-long hair. No clothes. The head was kind of oddly shaped. The face looked...

I mean the chin seemed longer than it should have been. I thought that it had a small curved horn, at least on the side of the face that I saw. It had arms, but the legs did not look right at all. They looked like they bent backwards, and it kind of loped along on all fours, really fast. I'm not sure, but the feet looked like they might have been hooves. It went through that brush and trees and stickers like it wasn't even there. I shot one look over and saw it running through it, not even looking where it was going, not 20 feet away from us. The head was turned toward us, and it was looking right at us as it ran.

I didn't know if it was going around trees and other things or just passing through them. It was just wrong in every way. It's hard to express the whole thing any other way. It's not supposed to be. That's it. it is not supposed to be. We got to the edge of the park road that led to the exit out of the park. The stand of trees stopped right there at the edge of the park road.

We were running faster than you can imagine. Whatever it was that was chasing us, it stopped at the tree line. We did not see it come out, but we still kept running at full speed. I sure was not going to slow down. We ran five blocks to my house at full speed and still didn't feel safe by any means. Trap, we were looking out windows and trying to find my baseball bat and anything else that we could that would protect us. My mom knew that something had happened, and I recall her saying that we looked very pale. I don't know about Guy, but I could not stop shaking for a long time.

We told her what had happened and what we saw, but I had. I don't know if she actually believed us. I'm 72 years old now, and that was a long time ago, but I still remember it. Like, I just went through it. In fact, I talked to my friend Guy only a couple of years ago. We have kept in touch through the years. He made a career in the Navy and had been a master chief on a ship before becoming a recruiter. But still, after all this time, I get to think of it.

about what happened, and I have to question myself about it. Did that really happen? After so many years, you actually wonder. So, I asked him, say, Guy, I need to ask you about something that has been making me question myself. He asked me, what's that? I didn't know how to bring it up, other than, do you remember that day that you and I were going through that park and saw something? No, I'm not kidding you.

This is a guy that was in the military for over 30 years. But I watched the color go out of his face. The look on his face told me all that I needed to know. But I asked him anyway. Did we really see that thing? All he did was stare at me for a few seconds, but he didn't. say a thing. All he finally did was gnawed his head in the affirmative.

We never said another word about it. And yeah, this was for real. A lot of growing up is learning that, when you get what you want, you need to be prepared for it to be nothing like what you expected. I was raised on horror and paranormal encounters. The books, the Discovery Channel documentaries, and the tales told late at night I would hold on to for years. I had always wanted to have that defining moment to show me that there was more to the world than meets the eye.

There were small brush-ins, knocks on doors, odd noises, seeing things out of the corner of my eye, but... But all that could have been my mind playing games on me late at night. I didn't count these as proof. When the paranormal made itself known to me, it was not a small knock or an unexplained whisper. It was a roar that dared anyone to ignore it. I no longer questioned the validity of others' experiences. This world has never been as it seems. I would like to preface this with a brief trigger warning.

The story deals heavy with an abusive relationship and mentions suicide and addiction. When I met G, I was a barback at a local club. I had made myself a profile on Meet Me to find a community after high school had brought old friendships to a head. Anyone who has any experience with this app knows that it's shady. But at the time, I was extremely new to online relationships. I didn't have the slightest bits of self-preservation. That being said, one night after a shift, I allowed the same. the stranger to take me out to the desert to watch the stars.

He was soft-spoken and sweet. He was attentive to my words with his intense stare. I was enamored by his tattoos, and how he smelled of musky cologne. He told a gripping story of how he had just returned to the state after being left for dead by a gang he used to work for. He was a bad boy. I ate it up.

Before long, G was my boyfriend. I learned he lived with his grandparents while he got his life together. He spent his time off volunteering for the elderly, because he felt he owed the world more after being a delinquent in his gang years. He told me his grandmother wouldn't appreciate me staying the night with him, so I would always head home after we spent time together. One night as I got off work, I offered to stop by and get a good night kiss. When I pulled up, G. came boldly.

out of the house, asking me if he and his cat Todd could stay at my apartment. He said that something was wrong in his room, and he didn't feel like it was safe to stay. Confused? I agreed. He told me to wait in the car as he gathered his things, but I wasn't about to stay put. Despite his arguments, I followed. His room was in the basement of the house. We made a right at the front door, down a first set of stairs, that we made a first set of stairs that landed in his grandpaw's small man cave. Another right turn took us down the stairs into the computer room, his bedroom, and a supply closet came off of.

As my foot left the steps, touching the linoleum floor, all of the oxygen available turned to molasses. Breathing felt like drowning. Walking felt like fighting the persistent current in the waste-deep river. It felt like quicksand encased me. with no kind of slow descent. A cloud of doom rested on my shoulders. I was sick with the urge to cry and run all at the same time.

The light fixture wiggled and flickered on and off. A primal fear struck my heart. Gee and I searched for Todd as quickly as we could, finding that he had stuffed himself into a pile of quilts in the storage room. Todd was placed in his carrier, and we left immediately. On the 15-minute drive to my apartment, I was speechless. The presence of evil on this plane of existence had slapped me in the face. Gia told me his house was haunted, but everyone says that.

We stayed at my house that night and did not speak of the basement. Though it plagued my thoughts, things stayed that way. We didn't discuss it. I left the home before night and didn't encounter anything out of the night. norm. That was until his grandma moved across country. She was making a nest for her and her husband in South Carolina to move, and would not be returning for a while. She told G that it would be all right for me to move in for a while if I agreed to help care for her flowers that she grew in her large yard. Wanting to be closer to G, I agreed. I packed a duffle and told my roommate where I'd be. They were

happy to have the apartment to themselves for the time. The first day that I moved in, G. sat me down to have a talk. He informed me that his grandfather suffered from sundowner's syndrome. He explained that, at night, he would almost become someone else. He would believe wholeheartedly that he was a Nazi in the throes of World War II. I had never heard of this, but I listened to his warning. He explained that they didn't really know if Grandpa's... could see the other people in the home, and that it was honestly best to just stay out of the way.

They had never bothered him, and didn't plan on seeing what might happen. The thought made me nervous, and I had a million questions, but I just nodded. As the days passed, I got to see firsthand what he meant. At around 10 p.m., the old man's voice would slip into a transatlantic accent. Picture the announcer at the beginning of the courage the cowardly dog show. He would announce, Hitler died at 9.45 this morning, over and over. He would march the house and make other random announcements,

before retiring to his man cave to watch cops and bark slurs at the screen. During this time, he would sit in his recliner and eat an entire head of lettuce, dumping a bottle of red vinegar over the leaf. He'd grunt and chomp, lettuce dripping down his chin and across the floor. We would stay in his room from that point on. I got used to the routine, and I felt bad for the man. Eventually, G. grew jealous of my job at the club, and he made me quit, meaning that I was spending all of my time tending to the house and the gardens.

My contact with the outside world became more and more limited. As G. became more comfortable restricting me. The house became my everything. I would wake up in the morning, feed the dog and cat, clean up his grandpa's messes, tend to the garden, then watch TV. I soon found that his grandfather came home sometimes in the middle of the day. The first time he came to the door yelling and scatting like a jazz singer in his transatlantic accent. I hid in the garage, not knowing what to do, was the first time he came to the door yelling and scatting.

this voice was associated with him drifting to those back corners of his mind. I waited and hid until the house fell quiet. My mind raced. I was made to believe that this only happened at night. I carefully stepped to the garage door back into the house, closing the door too soon. I was not alone. Grandpa stood at the top of the stairs to the man cave, his broad shoulders upright at attention. Do you know the enemy?

He growled, his voice gravel. My mouth opened and closed silently. Did he know I was here? Do you know the enemy? He repeated. His head turned slowly until I could see his eyes peering back over his shoulder, not quite at me. I didn't move a muscle. He drew a large breath.

You are the enemy! His voice boomed, I jumped and flinched against the garage door, closing my eyes tight. I only opened them when I heard the thump of his feet down the stairs and the bathroom door slam. I took the opportunity to run to G's room in the basement. I was only at peace for a few moments before I heard the basement door creak open. I sat out of view of the doorway just in case. He came down the stairs, and I heard him. the squeak of the computer chair followed by the click-clack of the keyboard.

I turned the doorknob all the way to, open, silently peeking through the crack. Instead of a regular monitor, there was a large TV screen that allowed his grandparents to easily see. The screen was on Google, and the search bar read, Why does it hurt to die? At that unsettling sight, I closed the door again and laid down to nap until G.K.

came home. From that point on, I stayed very aware of when Gramps came home and avoided him at all costs. I told G what had happened, and he told me to never watch him on his computer, that he had seen things he didn't want to. Gramps worked for the local high school getting troubled teens into jobs, but G. confessed that he thought he had seen him looking up CP late one night, but wouldn't tell me anything else. I began to realize that I had jumped the gun living with this man. Days went by faster and faster. I knew how to maintain the house and limit interactions with Grandpa. Gee started being short with me. He didn't want me talking to friends and convinced me they weren't good for me.

I sunk into isolation. I only knew G's friends. I smoked a lot of weed to forget I was basically a house pet. G drank all the time. I asked continually if he still loved me, if he wanted me around. He would lose himself in the drink and talk of the heinous things he had done in his gang era. His confessions made me fear him. One night we sat at the table in the backyard.

His bottle of fireball and my bowl accompanied us as we listened to music. G. ran his fingers along the tiles set in concrete that made the design of the design of the of two lizards on the table. I could feel his energy shift as he softly began to recount other dark seeds of his past. The table had a large crack that had been repaired.

It hadn't been the result of a clumsy move or a windstorm. Gee confessed that this table had been a gift his father made for his lover, who had rejected him. In response, his father had dumped it into the girl's driveway and shot himself.

I knew his father had past, G had a tattoo of his name on his chest, but I had never known how. Tears filled his eyes, and my stomach felt like an empty pit. I placed my hand on his and rubbed his leg with the other, opening my mouth to speak, though I never had to stumble through the words you say after being told something so awful. Without warning, our ears were filled with what I can only describe as a 16-bit train whistle. It was so incredibly loud that it felt as if my head was surely to burst. We both grabbed our ears and bolted for the house.

The noise only doled slightly as we ran through the living room and out the front door where it appeared to amplify tenfold. We looked around the neighboring yards. No one else appeared to hear it. No one was reacting. There was at least five neighbors out and about, but no one could hear it. This house was in the middle of town, nowhere near train tracks. I backed away from the house until my foot slipped off the curb.

As I stumbled into the road, all irregular sound disappeared. The birds in the trees returned to chirping, kids yelled over frisbee games. It was as if nothing ever happened. We talked about it non-stop for the rest of the day, trying to find an explanation that didn't exist. I think of this event as the catalyst for all the madness that followed. That night, G and I were in bed.

It was long past Grandpa's sundown rambles of the night. The house lay quiet until we were torn from sleep by the sound of a drill. You know how you can hear a drill's motor run hard as it makes its way through wood, then it slows as it bores through and completes the job? It was that sound. over and over G and I froze momentarily before he sprang into

action, retrieving a gun from his nightstand and rushing quietly out the door. I sat up in bed listening for what was to happen. The drill abruptly stopped as I heard G paced the upper floor. The silence made the unknown worse,

and after a good 20 minutes of footsteps G returned. His brow crinkled in confusion. He told there was no one there. Nobody outside, no signs of any disturbances, and grandpa was sound asleep. This started happening every single night. Between 2.10 and 2.30 every single morning, the drill would rip into action. It got louder and louder, seeming to get closer to our room. No matter how fast we reacted, there was never anything there. Though it never stopped being unsettling, I did get

used to it. I would stay awake through the event every night and then slip into an uneasy sleep until morning. At some point, G ended up not having to work for a few weeks, so we started helping me tend to the garden. As we went to either end of the backyard taking care of our individual tasks, I heard the distant sound of G whistling and humming a tune. As we met at the center of the yard, he grinned at me. What were you whistling over there, babe? Yeah. It was very sweet. I tilted my head in confusion. I wasn't whistling, I laughed.

I don't even know how. You were whistling. I heard it. We both stared at each other for a second. Both of us heard whistling coming from nearby. Even the same tune. But in two different voices? This event continued to happen as we worked every day.

The whistling would quiet as we would come nearer to each other. until it would disappear. It brought a cold chill to my spine every time. As the number of unexplainable events stacked on each other, my sanity declined. I felt as if there was no way this could be real. Just as I learned to accept one thing, another would come at me and set me out on ease.

One night, I lie sleepless in bed waiting for the drill to interrupt the silence, when instead a sound that I could. can only relate to an avalanche rocked the house. It sounded as if a million bowling bowls were unleashed across the hardwood above us. G jumped out of the bed and bolted up the stairs. As expected, he returned with no explanation. As he sat on the edge of the bed wringing his hands, the thump, thump, thump of tiny children's feet running upstairs rocked the shelves and the walls.

We didn't move. We didn't check. We knew nothing had changed. changed in the two seconds since he had checked the upper floor. I found my way back to sleep eventually, though it didn't last long. I woke up after however long later to a full body panic. I couldn't move, I couldn't draw in any air. My eyes snapped open to G's dark glare boring into me, almost through me.

Hot tears welled out of my eyes as I realized the reason I couldn't move was that He was on top of me. His hands were firm around my throat, and he was trembling. His grip tightened, and a dry groan escaped my throat. As blackness started to cloud my vision, he let go. He got off me and laid down as if nothing had happened. I sat up and gasped, breaking into sobs, and G-tilted his head like a puppy with his furrow browed.

"'What happened to you?' He cooed in a sickly sweet tone. I couldn't respond. My body was overtaken with shock as he kept talking. Hey, hey, baby, what's wrong? What happened? Are you crying? I finally croaked out.

You effing choked me. You were trying to kill me. G denied remembering any of it, comforting me and reassuring me that he was sorry and didn't know what happened. I said that we needed to get out of the house, and G agreed. He suggested going to the desert where we first hung out, and he would teach me to shoot his guns, and maybe even ride dirt bikes. I agreed.

By that afternoon, we had bikes, guns, drinks, and snacks loaded in the truck, and were parked at a dirt hill designated for these activities. G set up cans along the hills and showed me how to shoot. He shot four, and I shot the other four. The state was doing its job of taking my mind off of the events of the night prior. I was proud of my aim for a first timer, knocking back a swig of pop while he reloaded. He pointed to the hill and told me to go ahead and set the cans back up. I gave him a kiss before trotting down the way to the hill.

As I bent down, I glanced back over my shoulder. G stood by the truck, the pistol in his hand raised to aim, and his finger was, resting on the trigger. I dropped to my knees and screamed, burying my ears in my palms and anticipating anything that could come. When nothing happened, I glanced back. G was leaning on the hood of his truck, taking a swig from a flask of fireball,

the gun now in his holster on his hip. I jumped to my feet and stomped back to him, demanding he tell me what the hell was wrong with him. He acted as if nothing had happened. once again feigning concern. My head buzzed with doubt and confusion. Was I really so stressed that I hallucinated that? It made no sense.

Gee said that we should put the gun away and unload the bikes. I had never ridden before, and it took me a while, but I was eventually able to go about ten miles per hour behind him. He took me up and around hills and showed me some pretty places. We would stop to chat and take sips from our drinks, and I was beginning to really enjoy myself. G kept leading me, going easy for a few hours before coming up on a hill, and taking off down the other side where I couldn't see him. I laughed to myself and my heart thumped with excitement.

Was he challenging me? I sped up the hill after him and realized as soon as I hit the top that there was basically nowhere to go but straight down. Before I could evaluate the situation further, the sand under my tires slid as it began down the hill. My head snapped up as I panicked. I couldn't remember how to stop. I held on with white knuckles as I bounced uncontrollably down the slope. As I thought my fear couldn't get any worse, two men came into my peripheral vision from behind a large bush with guns drawn.

I was soaring right through the range of another shooting area. The men's hands flew in the air as they yelled out in surprise. I'm so sorry, I screamed, finally finding the brake as my bike went up the next slope where G waited. His helmet was off and his face was beat red with laughter, not the concern I had expected. I looked behind me to see his tracks in the sand. They went around the edge of the range, and he knew right where he had led me. I took off as fast as I could back to the truck, climbing. in and sitting silently as G prepared

us to leave. This man was not who I had previously known. Not at all. His once endearing and gentle voice was now unsettling. The calm way he spoke about everything in the past day made me nauseated.

I wanted out and G. knew it. After that day, G. started taking my phone when he left the house. I didn't have access to anyone. My message were monitored, the drilling bit sounds at night started interchanging with the bowling ball-like rumbles. Grandpa bellowed through the night about war and Hitler.

G dipped back and forth between being loving and being a monster. I didn't know what to do. One day I found myself trapped in the kitchen as Gramps came home from work. He seemed to be in a normal headspace, so instead of hiding away, I decided to talk. I asked him if he had ever experienced anything paranormal in the home. The old man froze as he stared into the fridge. His head bowed for a second as he sighed, and he pulled up a chair to the table. Did G ever tell you that we thought his father was possessed?

He asked. I couldn't fathom those words coming from his mouth. I had never known G's grandparents to believe in anything of the sort. I shook my head. Well, before we lost him, he was in with a bad crowd. He continued, hurt becoming clear behind his eyes. He'd become someone else. He wasn't our son. He was evil.

We watched our son disappear while his body wandered our home. He housed that spirit. He was violent. He was angry. We reached out to anyone in the community to help him. four different priests visited our home. Every single one gave us the same name, and every single one said they couldn't, or wouldn't, help.

The man's lips trembled as he pulled a sticky note from the stack on the table. He wrote a name with a pen taken from his shirt pocket, briefly showing it to me before turning on the gas stove and burning it to ash. We promised we would never speak the name. I hope that you understand. and I'd appreciate it if you followed suit. The letters on the paper danced through my mind over and over as I nodded. It took our son.

He stared out the front window as the smoke from the charred note cleared the area. I don't know why it's still here. It took our son. I didn't know what to say. Grandpa turned from the conversation and back to the fridge. I sat at the table with this new information stirring my brain to a mush. Is G possessed? Is his family just full of nuts?

Days passed and I became more and more afraid. I wondered if G would do to me what his father had done to his ex if I left. I didn't want to be responsible for someone else's life. I slipped into an autopilot and tended to my chores. I avoided G when I could as I racked my brain for a way out. I didn't know what to do. The nightly sounds of drills and avalanches kept me awake. I had begun roaming the house to try to find my sanity

in an explanation that I'd never find. G slept peacefully as though we could no longer hear it, and I was thankful as I didn't find his presence comforting. As I lie in bed one morning, after a night of failed ghost hunting, I drifted to a troubled sleep plagued with nightmares. I woke to what sounded like an ocean's waves swirl. wishing in my ear. I lay still, my eyes flicking back and forth as I tried to figure out what I was hearing. It was only in my left ear. I shook my head and the noise persisted. I had to wake

G up as I needed help. I called his name shaking his shoulder until his eyes opened. I need you to look in my ear. There's something wrong. He sat up and grabbed his phone, turning on the light as I tilted my head for him to see. He took one glance and gasped, telling me to hold still. My heart raced as he grabbed a tool from his nightstand and slowly poked at my ear.

The sound abruptly stopped as I felt tiny feet crawling across my cheek and up my temple. I screamed and soared to my feet slapping away at my hair. There were earwigs in my ear. Not one, two. I ran up the same. stairs and threw myself on the couch, knees to my chest as I heaved and cried.

I stared straight ahead of me as G laughed it off and went to take a shower. I stared out the sighting glass door in front of me as I sat alone. A Vanta black figure shot across the yard and up the tree in front of the window. It was broad daylight. There was no explanation for it. The sight made my stomach sink. Until now, everything that happened had been auditory. It wasn't so much fear that I felt anymore, but resignation.

With all the chaos I was endearing daily, I had almost hoped that whatever was doing this would just take me away. But I was stuck. I wish that I could say that there was a big resolution to this, but here's how it ends. G's grandma returned soon after I saw that figure. After a week of living back home with me, there, she went on a rampage and kicked me out.

I pretended to be upset when it all happened. I packed my bag that I had come with and went back to my apartment. As soon as G. was back at his own place, I broke up with him. G. lost his mind very briefly, and then exited my life. To this day, this brief period of my life leaves me with a million questions that I'll be fine, knowing the answer to. I learned firsthand that evil exists in many forms and that there is more to the world than everything that we can see. Look, Air Canada, does a sold world? Super, an offer for the assort. Station thermal, volcano. Parlant of volcanoes. You've seen the price for the Japan?

Hmm, epargne and sushi. Wow, the solds are good for Mayork also. We could go to the or do you have to the round-doney? Or it's a long march on the board of the sea-sile.

Hmm, I adore the canolies. Wait, this sold and endurance limited. Reserved to

R-Canada.com or at your agent of voyage. The conditions can't apply. So, this experience has stuck in my

mind, and I remember it like it was yesterday. When I was probably 10 or 11, the year was

probably 2000 or 2001, I was at our local park with a friend riding our BMX bikes. And this particular park was super awesome because it was practically a skater-slash-BM-ers' dream. There was stairs and ledges

and natural jumps built into the layout of this patio plaza, which then led down to a sandy beach line of our local lake. So, normally it's pretty busy, and you'd get kicked out by random hero adults or lifeguards, telling you that you can't have fun here and to go elsewhere. Go figure. But this was an overcast kind of cooler, mid-to-low-low-50s kind of day,

so the park was completely empty, besides me and my buddy. So after an hour or two, we're starting to get bored and noticed that it was getting late in the day, maybe about 5.30 to 6 o'clock, and sunset was about an hour, maybe hour and a half away as tops. I'm talking dark.

No more sun, streetlights on kind of sunset. About 30 minutes prior to this, I had noticed a van. I think it was either white or possibly off-white, like eggshell, colored, pulling up in the parking lots and park facing us directly, which was probably about 300 to 400 feet away. I couldn't see the driver too well, but I know for a fact, that he never got out, and nobody got in. At first, no big deal, but after 30 to 45 minutes,

during which I would occasionally look in his direction every five or ten minutes or so, and every last time he was staring straight, dead ahead at us. He wasn't preoccupied with anything or anyone else. My buddy started to notice this, too, and while I started to get this weird feeling that something wasn't right, I didn't mention it in such a way that would seem like I'm thinking, this guy's going to kidnap us and do weird crap to us. I simply replied, yeah, I noticed him too.

That's odd, but left it at that. So it's now about 20 to 30 minutes before dark, and we've gathered our things and decided to leave. Luckily, there was a really busy gas station across the street from the park, maybe a quarter to half a mile from the parking lot slash plaza area. But as we start making our way down, one of the multiple paved walking paths that lead to the exit, me and my friend noticed this van had started its engine

and was proceeding to back out of the parking spot. So now we're a little on edge, and we rush into the mini-mart. We go inside and both were like, what the hell, and thought that was kind of stuart. startling but proceeded to wait in line to buy our candy, and momentarily forgot about what had just happened. Unfortunately, as we walked out the door of the store, we saw the same janky van sitting across the four-lane roadway

at the park's turn-in entrance, with his blinker on, just sitting there. And mind you, we were in the store for a good five to seven minutes. There's no way he couldn't have safely merged into traffic. Luckily for my friend, he lived maybe five minutes away from the mini-mart. Just had a ride straight behind the minymart about 10 to 12 blocks, all of which was two or three heavily lighted residential-type road straight home. And unfortunately for me, my house was probably about 15 minutes away.

Maybe less, but I had to ride north of the gas station minimart, along this kind of rural highway slash higher speed road, like 40 to 50 miles per hour, with no houses directly on it, and a street light every, like, half mile if I'm lucky, before turning on to a different 25-mile-per-hour rural kind of road that was sparsely daunted with houses, before taking a third turn onto my heavily populated normal neighborhood,

that has eyes and ears and would certainly see a child kidding, abducted. My friend pretty much was like, best of luck, I'm out, and took off towards his, while I started my short ride back home as well. So I'm about to turn off of the higher speed highway kind of road and look over my left shoulder as I turn right. And what do I see? The same van driving by my road. And after passing me, also immediately starting to slow down. It was like slow motion. I can still picture the fear that I felt when I saw the brake lights on the van. Mind you, he didn't slam on the brakes or do anything that would draw attention

or be considered erratic or reckless. But my first instinct and thought was that he's slowing down to turn around and double back. At this point, I'm scared witless. Growing up, my mom would always watch murder shows and unsolved mysteries, that kind of stuff. So I was well aware of the idea of people, especially kids, being taken by strangers and defiled, tortured, killed, assaulted, etc. And I swear on my mother's grave, bless her soul, I never even to this day had ridden or peddled a bike as fast or as hard as I did that evening. Literally every ounce of my being was put into going faster than I had ever gone. the entire time thinking this van is going to pull up next to me and do whatever.

I was pedaling so hard just staring straight at the ground, focusing on my feet that I almost ran into a parked car like two blocks from my house. It was literally inches away from running head on into the car. I never bothered to look back once I saw those brake lights. I didn't want to know how close or how far whoever was driving that van was from me. All I knew was I was scared and best believe I'm not going to be kidnapped without

the perp having to work for it. Anyway, I made it home, but never told my parents, even to this day. I never brought it up, and I don't know why. Sometimes, I think, was I possibly kidnapped?

Or was it a fiction in my imagination, and maybe just an odd set of coincidence? I know Unsolved Mysteries and various other shows about murder and mayhem that my mom watched. It didn't help the situation. But, yeah, that's my story. Just thought that I would share it. Opinions very much welcomed. Stay safe out there.

Too many people go missing or disappear each year. I just wanted to say a little about coincidences. Some people may experience things that aren't usual, but later experience the same or similar thing, not shortly after, which then makes the usual into something more unusual. Have you ever said something, a sentence or just some random word, and then hear it just a moment's later on radio or TV, etc? I seem to have that happen a lot.

I mean, sometimes three times in one day. Sometimes it can be a very average word or a whole danged sentence. Word for word. Just one example. My wife was talking to me about some things she was planning to do, and I was sitting in my recliner watching some TV. I was flipping through the channels all the while listening to my wife. She had mentioned tasting some food at work that one of the other girls had brought.

She punctuated her sentence with that sound that says, wow this is really good the good old mm-hmm followed with I can't wait to try that recipe I had just turned to a different channel and a guy on the TV said mm-hmm I can't wait to try that recipe now I have to say that that is kind of creepy and it seems to go beyond coincidental it was exactly the same words I told my wife that I seemed to be experienced experiencing a lot more of these coincidences lately. She told me that she had to admit that she too was noticing this. She used to say that I was just imagining it, and that I was trying to find things like that. How the heck does a person do that?

I sure didn't know that some guy on some random TV station was going to be saying the exact same words that she had just said at that very moment. There are some coincidences, though, that can pry on your mind. I'm 72 years old now, and I had something happened to me years ago, probably when I was in my 20s, and it has stuck with me ever since.

This is something that I had dreamed, and it really freaked me out. I was married back then, and my wife and I had gone to bed. I went to sleep, and for some ungodly reason, decided to have a danged nightmare. Here's my husband.

rather unsettling dream. In my dream, I was over at my mother's house and was doing some work for her, and she asked me to go to the basement and get something. I've been down in that basement hundreds of times, since I grew up there. It's just an unfinished basement. Nothing out of the ordinary. I used to build model planes down there when I was a kid, had my weights down there, so I really didn't seem to think anything of it. I headed down to get the item, and the stairs went down along a wall to the side instead of coming down in the middle like some places. I got to the bottom of the steps and turned left and headed for the other room where she kept her shovels, rakes, and some other gardening tools.

The furnace was in that section. I turned the light on in that room and went in and across to the other side where a workbench sat. I was searching in a drawer when I noticed a scraping and cracking sound, like cement cracking apart. When I turned, I saw what was making the sound. About a three-foot diameter spot in the basement floor was raising up like a bubble and was breaking apart, as it came up. Dirt was also being pushed out while it did this. It was happening slow, and soon I saw something else in there.

There was cement and dirt that had been pushed outward and what looked like an off-white-ish round thing. About the size of a basketball was wiggling itself up through the dirt. I bolted for the other room and made it to the bottom of the stairs. I watched through the doorway into the other room, when the lightened there flickered and went out. I froze and waited. Then something went through that room from left to right,

but it was far enough back in that room so that it remained in shadow. But I heard a growling and, I guess, what I can only call a slurbing sound. I watched the doorway for a few seconds, and then I saw it. It was headed my way, too. I can't say that I ever imagined anything like this thing. It was maybe three feet tall. It had a very large, pale, off-white, somewhat gray head, which took up a third of its body.

The eyes were large and just had a black spot for the pupils. I don't recall seeing any nose at all, but that mouth, it was nasty. There were needle-like teeth lining the whole mouth, and it was wide. There were two very skinny-looking arms that were dangling down against the sides, and the hands were dragging on the floor. It had short legs and came towards me, shuffling quickly and, tilting back and forth as it hurried towards me. Some brown liquid was dribbling down the chin onto the floor.

I tried to run up the stairs, but there was something invisible in front of me. I couldn't get past it or through it to get up those stairs. And that thing was getting really close to my right side. I could see my wife and my mother and my sister at the top of the stairs waiting for me to run, to get up there with them, hurry. I could see them yelling. to me, but I couldn't hear them at all. I kept pounding on this barrier trying to get up those stairs, and that thing was almost on me.

I remember screaming. The next thing I knew I was waking up, and my wife was slapping the hell out of me trying to wake me. She said that I was staring straight ahead and just screaming. Why the hell would I dream something like that? That was my dream. Well, nightmare. That said, I'll finish the side.

I didn't go down in my mom's basement for weeks after that dream. Well, yeah, I was rattled. But eventually I was over there one day and had to go down there to do something. Reluctantly, I went down and headed into the room that had the tools. I went through the door and turned on the light to that room, and I froze. I'm not sure, but I may have stopped breathing. I think my eyes almost popped out. right there before me in that exact spot in my dream, the cement floor was broken out, in pieces in a three-foot diameter circle, and dirt was piled out around the area.

I flew out of that room. I went up those basement steps in maybe two strides, and I ran outside. I remember my mom followed me so concerned and wanted to know what had happened. I told her about my dream and about finding the hole in the floor. I guess I was pretty worked up. She finally got me calmed down a bit and told me that she had been down there and had broken that spot up and dug it out to try to put some new cement in there because it was cracked from surface water.

I just looked at her for a few seconds and said, You're kidding. That had to be the worst coincidence anyone could ever have. I sometimes wonder, What might have happened if I hadn't gotten slapped awake? I want to preface this first by saying that the story may not be for everyone. It does include abuse and talks of my own death, but I'll keep those details to a minimum.

But I did want to include the trigger warning. I met this guy Jordan one night while out with some friends having a few drinks. We made eye contact after my friend pointed out that he'd been staring. at us. All it took was me smiling at him, and he came over and bought a solid drink. After chatting with him that night, I got his number, and since I was interested in him, I texted him the next day. Little did I know how much this would change and even shape my life. We started dating shortly after, and for a while there, everything was great. It was good enough that I let him convince me to move in with him.

I found myself staying over there many nights, so I didn't renew my lease and just moved in with him officially. Some people, including my mom, thought that it was way too fast, and was reasonably concerned. But I did my best to assure her. I mean, I thought that I loved him. I thought that we loved each other. But once I moved in, he showed a whole different side of him.

He became incredibly controlling and possessive. He wanted to know where I was at all times. I had to call him when I got to work and when I was leaving. If I took too long, either way, he would call and ask where I was. I used to stop at the store or occasionally run errands after I left work, but I couldn't do that anymore. He was suspicious, and I would either have to pick him up to go with me or wait until he got home.

I had to start planning dinner's way in advanced or have groceries delivered because, otherwise, it would be late before I got done, which he would also complain about. He never made dinner, I always did. I don't even know what he did for food before we got together or on the nights that we didn't go out and have dinner before I moved in. And if he didn't know where I was at all times,

the accusations would fly. I must have been out there messing around with someone else, and that name-calling and other verbal abuse, it was degrading. I wasn't seeing anyone else. Hell, I didn't even have time to consider it with how much I had to do for him. I slowly became more and more reclusive, feeling like it would just make things easier if I stayed home. He would know where I was at all times this way.

I did have some friends, and even my friends. and even my mom come visit me, but if they were unexpected, he became even angrier. Usually he would hold it in until they left, but he would still make passive-aggressive remarks while they were there, which would then make them uncomfortable enough to leave.

And that's when I noticed him becoming physical. Anytime I had company over, or if we went out with others, like to dinner, he would keep one arm under the table and pinch my leg. and it was never just to play around or get my attention. He would leave large red marks and bruises all over my legs. I liked wearing a lot of skirts and dresses,

but if we were with others, I started wearing jeans to make it hard on him, which only angered him more. My life quickly went from bad to living a nightmare, and I didn't know how to get out of it. There were days that I called into work because of how bad I looked. I had all but given up as he watched my every move.

He'd even put a camera in the living room, saying it was for security, and if I so much as touched it to do things like dusting, he would lose his mind. I honestly felt trapped, and thought that this would be my life until I died there. Hell, I even considered ending my own life to just put me out of my own misery. But then I thought about it. my mom and my younger sister who looked up to me and what would Jordan do or say to them

what would he do to me if he found me first between that and calling myself a coward I couldn't bring myself to do it yeah just another fun side effect of being with Jordan but then out of nowhere Jordan came home with news that I never would have expected he told me to pack my bags because I had to leave. I was confused because I lived there. It wasn't like I had my own place anymore. He then reiterated

that he was done with me, that I wasn't the same girl that he got with just a few years earlier, and that he no longer loved me. He just flat out was kicking me out. I was stunned. I didn't know how to react.

In fact, I was happy to finally be able to leave, but I knew him well enough to know this couldn't be true. It had to be a test. And if I didn't beg him to let me stay, what danger would I be in then? So I started crying out of fear and confusion, asking him to let me stay,

and he never changed his stance. I even asked him if he was seeing someone else, but he wouldn't answer. It wouldn't surprise me if he was, though. So, as he stood over me watching me pack a few bags with my clothes and other essentials, I sniffled as a few tears fell. I hated myself for this part, but I was still fearing it was a test. I stood at the door with my last box and asked if he was sure about this,

cringing that he would change his mind. He angrily told me that he was and shut the door in my face. I got into my car and I burst into tears. But that time, they were out of relief and happiness. I was finally free from Jordan, and I had my life back. My mom didn't really know what all was happening in that apartment, other than she was suspicious of him. I'm sure that she knew something was wrong, but I always told her it was fine,

and I even pleaded with her to not get involved. Usually I would get defensive saying I was fine so that she would let it go. fearing what he might do to me if he found out that I told her. I don't blame her one bit for any of this, and I never would, so please don't judge my mother either. She would have done all that she could for me, but I made sure that she thought everything was fine, so nothing would happen to her or my sister.

Anyways, that was the only place I could go. I hadn't physically seen her in months, and when she saw me, we both started crying. I still had bruises all over me, and I know that I looked like hell. I couldn't bring myself to even take care of myself, thinking that none of it mattered anyways. I broke down and told her everything. After a lot of talking and crying, she helped me to unload my car and bring it all back to my old bedroom. My little sister was 17, and was still in school.

My mom pretty much kept my room as I left it. I didn't have a bed in there anymore, but my shelf, dresser, and a few other items were still in there. She, of course, told me that I could stay as long as I needed. And, in fact, I know that she preferred it. She loved having me back home. To speed things up, Jordan never contacted me after that day. I didn't understand his reasoning, but it was just like a breakup and we never spoke again. I tried to continue my life as normal as possible, and no, I never pressed any sort of charges

thinking if this was it, then so be it. And I would never have to deal with him again. I also didn't know if anyone would believe me, that he just let me leave. That's not something a normal abuser would do, right? So, again, call me stupid or selfish for not thinking about another girl getting with him, but it's all I could do to get my life back at the time. I did start therapy to teach myself that it wasn't my fault, and that I was worth the effort,

and between that and my mom and sister, I was healing. But that would all come to a screeching halt when I was leaving work late one night. It had been about three months since Jordan left me, and I was genuinely happy. I was still single, wanting to focus on me, But I was enjoying my life with my friends and family again. As I unlocked my car, I didn't notice anyone around me,

which is why I was caught off guard when I felt someone come up behind me and slam me into my car. Once they started talking, I knew that it was Jordan. I was too terrified to speak, which caused him to turn me around forcefully, and that's when I saw the knife. He was holding it against my throat. He then confirmed my worst nightmares. He said that the breakup was a test.

He said that I failed since I didn't fight hard enough to stay with him, and that I was going to pay, as he slowly poked me with the tip of the knife. I thought that was it, that I was going to die right there in the parking lot. But as I started crying and pleading with him to let me go, I heard another voice shout, Hey! As Jordan had previously,

previously ingrained in me, I instantly stopped crying and held my breath. Jordan backed up, dropping the knife, and started walking away nonchalantly. Then I spotted another man walking toward us, which got Jordan to actually run off. The man stopped by me to ask if I was okay. I was shaking and crying, but this time when the guy offered to call the cops, I didn't refuse. I was terrified, but I was also fed up. I was getting my life back, and I refused to let him win anymore. When the cops arrived, I told them everything.

The bruises from prior were healed by now, but I had a witness for that night. I got a restraining order, and I pressed charges. Going to court was difficult, and I almost backed out, but my sister convinced me that I needed to do. do this, and I knew that I had to. I wanted her to see that I was strong enough, and that hopefully, I could still be a role model to her. We lost our dad when she was six, and I was 14, so I needed to make sure that she understood

that this was not what a relationship was about. Overall, he was charged with assault that night, and spent some time in jail, but not nearly as long as what he should have gotten. I do still have a restraining order, but thankfully I have not heard nor seen him since that night. I've become a much stronger person now, and I'm actually happily engaged to a great man. I've known him and have been dating him for years,

and my mom and sister also approve of him. So I think that I am doing much better. So to those of you out there that are, in similar situations, just know that you are not alone. And even if it feels like no one cares, I promise you that someone does. I know I do. And thank you for sharing my story. This happened pretty recently.

I, 23, female, work in property management. I was not supposed to be working alone that day, but my manager and coworker called in sick. and my other co-worker had requested time off that we all forgot about. I voiced my concerns because the property is in a crime-ridden area, and I've had some bad experiences in the past. I actually transitioned to a different role because I no longer felt safe, but they offered me a lot of money to come back, so I did. The front doors stayed unlocked during business hours,

so literally anybody could walk in. Also, it's a large and busy property. I needed someone with me just to help with all the tours and residents. Nobody was able to do anything, so I called one of our sister properties and begged for their leaser to help me. They agreed, but the leaser was going to have to leave early. I agreed and was just happy to have someone help. Flash forward to an hour before closing, and the leaser had to go. literally as she walked out, this disgruntled man walked in holding a duffel bag.

I hate to profile him, but he was clearly homeless, and not all there mentally. He walked up to me and handed me his ID. I asked how I could help him, and all he could say was, you don't respect veterans. I again asked how I could help him, and he couldn't give me a straight answer. I was getting fed up when the co-worker who had requested the day off happened to come in just to say hi. My co-worker instantly knew that something was off, so he came over to investigate.

The homeless guy didn't like my coworker asking him all these questions, so he opened up his duffel bag and started sorting through it. He pulled out a piece of women's lingerie and threw it on my desk. Then he pulled out a box, and in that box was an SD card. He was trying to put it into my computer, and I told him not to do that. He listened to me, but proceeded to rummage through his bag. He seemed very irritated because we kept telling him,

if you can't tell us how we can help you, then you need to leave. At this point, I'm getting scared that he's going to pull out a gun and just light us up. Instead of a gun, he pulled out a knife. Instantly both me and my co-worker start screaming at him to put the knife away and leave. He eventually put the knife away, but refused to leave. I messaged my manager, who was out sick, but lived on site, to please call the cops. And I told him there was a guy with a knife in the office. My co-worker, who was with me, didn't physically force him out,

but he guided him out by walking towards him and making himself look threatening. Finally, the dude leaves, and we immediately lock the doors. He kept trying to come back in and was cussing up a storm outside. Eventually, he made his way to the convenience store that is attached to the building. Within 30 seconds of him going in, about four squad cars pulled up. We pointed at the store, and they ran in there. The guy got aggressive with the police, so they did beat him, and ended up detaining him.

I told the police to look in his bag for the knife, and they found it. I identified the weapon and answered some of the police questions. I didn't press charges because this was clearly a mental health crisis, and jail isn't going to reform that. He needs serious professional help. The DA pressed charges on my behalf, and the courts granted me a protection order. They also let him go. go without bail. The last update that I got was that he didn't show up to his court hearing,

and now there's a warrant out for his arrest. Gee, I wonder why. I haven't seen him since this event took place, and that's all I really care about. I'll start this off by saying this. Me, and all other people mentioned, are neurodivergent. But I'm 100% sure that these stories are true. at least the ones that happened to me. But no one else had any real reason to lie about their stories, so I believe them as well. This will be a few different situations that have happened over the span of almost a decade. For context, all of this happened on the same property,

which is owned by my grandfather on my father's side. I will keep area descriptions vague, as I don't want to accidentally docks me and my family. I'll start with my first paranormal encounter. I was probably about four or five when this happened. Now, just as some more context, we live in a double-wide trailer with a few add-ons attached to it, an extra room and two porches.

In the middle of the trailer is a hallway, and off of this hallway is a door leading outside. During the fall-slash-winter, we always cover the door with a huge, really thick curtain to help keep the heat in. Now, to the story. I was walking down the hallway and suddenly a gaunt, pure white hand, with long nails reached out from under the curtain and grabbed my ankle.

Strangely, this is where the memory ends. I have no clue what happened after it grabbed me, no matter how hard I tried to remember. ever since then I noticed that I've subconsciously tried to avoid going near that curtain. Like, I walk on the opposite side of the hall whenever I have to pass it. A few years later, when I was about six, I saw a black humanoid dash across my bedroom walls and then disappear. I mean this in the sense of it floating from one corner of my room to the other extremely fast, and then disappearing.

Naturally, I was terrified, and I ran to my parents' room crying about how I saw a ghost in my room. They told me the generic, it was just your mind playing tricks on you BS to try to calm me down. Admittedly, that worked, and I soon stopped crying and went back to my room to continue whatever it was that I was doing. Later, when I was about 10 or 11, I saw another black humanoid. only this time I was with my mom. We were walking over to my aunt's property, she's our neighbor, so it's maybe a two-minute walk from our trailer to her camper, to see about picking some apples off of one of her trees.

We turned left to get off the road and onto her property, and about 20 feet away from us was a black humanoid. It was just hovering there with its arms out, almost in a tee pose, except its arms were turned up. It also didn't seem defined. For example, look down at your arms. You can clearly see where it ends and what behind it begins. This thing didn't have that clear end of its mass.

It seemed almost to blend in with its surroundings. It was also more like a person's silhouette instead of a person. I didn't feel like it was malicious, but I could feel its stare, even though it didn't have eyes, or any features for that matter, I could feel it staring at me, like it was trying to tell me something,

and it disappeared soon after. I didn't know what that something was at the time, but now I think it was an omen for what was to come, based on the next event that I'll tell you about. The next event that happened happened when I was 12. As a basic description of our trailer, when you enter through the front door to your right, will be the kitchen and dining room, and to your left will be a sort of living room. Basically, it just has a rocking chair and a wood stove.

In the kitchen slash dining room area, there's a large window on the same wall as the door. I was just pacing walking around the table with no real purpose. When I looked out the window, to see a gaunt, pale white figure. Now, because of how the window was set up, I only saw its top half, but that was enough for me. Its arms were two different lengths, and it had two massive leathery wings sprouting from its back. Its face was worse, however, with no hair, mouth, or nose. Its eyes were just six black slits in its face. It wasn't all bad, though, considering it, or shall I say, she,

had impressive assets. Look, don't judge me. I'm a straight male, of course, that was the first thing I noticed. Anyway, as all these encounters have gone, she was gone in an instant, leaving me with some very mixed feelings about it. My last encounter, though not the last story I will tell, is when I talked to her.

Admittedly, this is the lamest encounter to top off a lot of already pretty lame encounters, She had tried to intimidate me. I don't remember how. And then I had turned the conversation into a, let's say, erotic experience. Yes, I was 12 when this happened, but it was not at all innocent. And also going through puberty, so moving on to something more interesting. This happened with her standing on the roof above me.

I was in my bedroom and us talking back in front. forth like how a person talks to another person, and it all ended in her just stopping to respond. I was talking to my dad about some of the above experiences, and he told me some of the things that he had experienced. Now, my dad also grew up on this property. Hell, he was literally born here, as in not in a hospital, but literally on this property. He said that when he was growing up, he would often see a man walking around, only for him to disappear shortly after he saw him. And one time he saw this man walking up a hill. Later on, this was actually fairly recently.

It was really foggy out, but he had to water the greenhouses so he went outside. He watered the first one and started walking to the second one. After a while, he said he was thinking, man, I should have made it to the other greenhouse by now. what's going on? He was walking up a hill when he decided to check his phone, and he noticed it was an hour later. He then realized that he was wearing the same clothes that the man he saw when he was a kid was wearing, and that this was the same hill.

Now, I know that this could have just been my dad trying to scare me, but he's not the type of guy to joke about the supernatural like that. And we were exchanging stories, so I have no reason to think that he was lying. And that's all I've got. I hope that even if you don't believe me, you at least found this entertaining. As a quick update, I now believe that the hand from the first story belongs to the creature from the last two stories. But I don't really have any proof of that, or any of this.

So, oh well. I should note that at one point in the middle of the night, I woke up to what sounded like a person walking around on the roof above me. What's weird is that no one else heard this. It might sound normal to someone that's never lived in a trailer, but these things literally have no sound protection. So if someone is talking at one side of the trailer, there's a good chance that you'll be able to hear them on the opposite side of the trailer.

Well, that's all for me. I love the stuff you make, Raven, and I hope you keep it up for a while yet. You're probably my favorite narrator at this point. Thank you very much, and I plan to. I'm sure that I'll sound crazy, but I'm super creeped out from a recent interaction at a grocery store. I was shopping with my toddler, and an older lady, maybe 70-ish,

who was by herself just came up and said, ma'am, just so you know, all canned veggies are on sale for 50 cents this week, and went on about how it's a great deal and they don't run it often. I said thanks that I appreciated the heads up, and that I'll definitely grab a few on my way out. Then she begins to walk away, and is almost out of sight when she stopped and looked back and smiled at my son. She then asked how old he was. I said, oh, just over a year. She then asked if he was my only child and some other random questions about him.

Then she goes, Hey, I just remembered I have some clothes in my trunk, all boy stuff in the 2T to 3T range, and asked if I wanted them. I politely declined and I said we would be shopping for a while, and that I didn't want to hold her up. She then proceeds to say, Oh, not a problem, I'll just wait outside, and then I can come back in and find you before you leave. Are you a single mom? Would you need them? I got this gut feeling that something was off about this lady, and I just said, nope, not a single mom, and we have all the clothes that we need,

and then thanked her for the offer. She tried a few more times saying things like, I just don't know what to do with them. If you could use them, I'd be happy to give them all to you. At this point, it really felt like she was trying to lure me in my son to her car. I continued to decline the offer, and then walked away. I did a few more laps around the store looking for things that I needed,

and at one point I saw her standing in an aisle in the center of the store with a younger man, just people watching. I could just be super paranoid, and she was just a sweet old lady trying to be nice. But something in my mind just told me to get out of the conversation as quickly as possible. I feel like parents will know that having small, child with you, make strangers talk to you all the time, and make small talk about your sweet kiddos. But this conversation did not feel the same as the others I've had while out and about with my son. Has anyone else ever had a similar experience? This happened to me a few years ago,

probably back in 2017 when I was 14. I still think about this encounter almost every day. My dad lives near a small lake in Wisconsin. There are only about a hundred people who live in the neighborhood. My brother and I spent every other weekend up there, so we knew pretty much everyone. My dad's house was the second house on top of this large hill, at the very top is a gas station and a diner, where I would work over the summer. At the bottom of the hill was the lake and a small beach.

That morning I was waiting. at the diner, and at the end of my shift I bought a slushy from the gas station and was planning on going down to the beach for the afternoon. Parked outside the diner was a gorgeous teal vintage car. I'm not sure what brand is I'm not good with that stuff, but it seemed to be from the 60s, and it caught my eye. There was an older man in the driver's seat and his wife in the passenger seat. They had their windows up, and I wasn't too close, so I was a little. I didn't get a great look at them, but I did notice that they were looking at me. I didn't think anything of it, and I started walking home. On my walk home, I remember wondering where they could be from. We don't get many tourists, and I would have remembered if someone drove a car like that.

The diner was off of a pretty quiet highway, and it was really used by out-of-towners. But I assumed that they were just driving through. My younger brother and I went to the beach that afternoon and hung out for a few hours. When we decided to head home, I packed up my stuff, probably a minute before he did, and started walking home before him. On the walk up the hill, there was probably half a city block's distance between us. He could clearly see me, but we were too far to talk. I heard a car coming towards me and looked back,

and moved to the side of the street. It was the car that I saw earlier at the diner. They slowed down as they approached me, and I started to get nervous. The woman in the passenger seat rolls down her window, and I nearly crapped my pants. They both seemed to be wearing hyper-realistic latex face masks. There seemed to be no beginning and no end to the mask. There weren't any noticeable holes for the eyes, yet they're on. eyes definitely seemed real, and there was no seam at the edge of the neck.

If they were wearing masks, they were some of the best masks that I've ever seen, and must have cost a fortune. But it definitely was not their skin. There's no way. Something about them was so... Off. The woman asked me for directions to a highway that I've never heard of. I didn't drive yet, so this in a...

itself wasn't weird, but I pointed them to the highway by the diner that leads out of town. They thanked me, rolled up the window, and drove away. I ran to my brother and told him what happened, and he said they looked pretty normal when they drove past him. But they looked normal to me that morning as well. The masks were too good. You had to be close enough to notice how strange they looked. there was just something so unsettling about them. They didn't really do anything odd except ask a girl who was clearly too young to drive for directions.

But it was a very small community. I might have been the first person they had seen in hours. It was just the way that they looked. I had never seen anything like it, and I haven't seen anything like it since then. I mentioned it to my dad when I got home, but he didn't have to have a little bit of it. much to say about it. I still feel deeply unnerved when I think about it, more than six years later. I don't believe in much of the paranormal stuff, and I do think that they were human. But why the masks? What were they doing there? And why ask a child who is obviously too young to

drive for directions to a highway? Has anyone ever experienced something like this before? And then parker and profite. Embarked and relaxed. Cirotay. Bookiné. Oh, that also. And profite. Via Rae.

The voice that we love. It's something else here now. Something new. From, exclusively on Paramount Plus, it's the series Stephen King calls scary as hell. Everything here is impossible, but it's also real.

Sci-fi vision calls it the best show streaming right now. We're running out of time. and we still don't know the rules. Don't miss what the movie blog calls something you need to watch. Saving those children is how we all go home. From Binge All Episodes exclusively on Paramount Plus. When I finally moved out of my parents' house,

I always said that I would have a budgie for a pet, as you can leave them to their own devices whilst at work, and there's no cravings for food or walks. The first one I had was called Marty McFly. Now, two things you need to know. One, he knew what the biscuit tin was and what was inside. He would go nuts until he had a piece of digestive. Two, he adored my mother.

Which brings us to Christmas Eve. Marty would come with me to my parents' house over Christmas, so whilst I was at work, my mother came over, put him and his stand in the car, and then started back home. On the journey, Marty hung on for dear life and never made a sound until she reached a junction which had traffic lights, which were on red. All of the sudden, he chirps and squawks, causing my mother to look at him. Upon looking back up, the lights had changed to green, so she moved forward.

Just then, from the right, came another car, straight over the junction, running the red light. To this day, I think Marty saved my mom's life and stopped a trip to the hospital. Hey there. This happened around 2017 to 2019. Between those times, I was around 14 to 16 before moving to my mom's place in Pennsylvania. I was living in West Virginia with my dad, and I was dating this guy who was typically normal. someone you could call, go on walks, dates, etc. Though about five to six months in,

he started to get aggressive real fast and even made me feel insecure and sometimes crazy. I was on the phone with him in an argument. My sister heard him while she was on the phone with her guy friend and they were talking on speaker, and he heard the other guy and then accused me of cheating. I hung up on him. just crying until my sister comforted me along with her friend.

After I hung up, he blew up my phone stating how much of a disgusting person I was, and other horrible names. I didn't cheat or see other guys since he wouldn't allow me to see or talk to other guys. He heard me talk to my brother and his best friend, and even yelled at me for that, while my dad was around. He was accusing me of cheating on him. him with my family and my family friends. I felt utterly sick that he said that. We did eventually break up. I was living my best life, recovering other friendships, and even creating new ones.

I'd gotten close with this one guy who knew about my trouble and kind of took care of me in a way to make me feel comfortable and safe. He was three years older than me, and I felt happy with him, but knew that he wasn't mine. If you know, you know. We never did anything special, except him making me feel special, which I regret dearly. Him and his girlfriend, our ex, now, broke up during this time, so it wasn't anything personal to either side. We started doing things at night, causing me to sneak out, and feel eerie about it, always

watching my back constantly scared of what my ex would do. My ex did find out about this, and when my fling, we'll call him, tries to come over, he got jumped by four big guys. He barely made it home. He was stabbed, robbed, punched, and other horrible things. I felt sick and scared that they would be coming to our place. Before he had the other guys jump my fling, my brother and his friends knew about everything, and he called my ex to say a few words. And my ex said that he was going to shoot up our place, rob us, and even kill me.

To say that I was scared was not the word to say. I couldn't describe how much fear I felt. Though he didn't do any of that, it still scared me. And then two months later, he nearly killed one of the people who made me feel comfortable and safe. Hey there, friends. I hope that you enjoyed this. this collection of scary stories on this episode of the As the Raven Dreams podcast. If you did, make sure that you follow the podcast on whatever platform that you're utilizing.

And if the platform you are on has a rate the podcast option, please consider doing so. Those ratings push the podcast into the algorithm, and we all know how the algorithm controls everything, so yeah. I also do have a Patreon if you go to patreon.com slash as the Raven Dreams. You can support the channel further. For as little as a dollar a month, you can get early access to all of my content in audio format. The content's a little different as it's based on what I upload to my YouTube side, but it's the same stories. Just in different collections of stories than how they're presented here.

Speaking of stories, if you have one you would like to submit to me, please go to as the ravendreams.com and click the button in the middle of the screen that says submit your story. These stories are mostly sourced by listeners, so let's keep the podcast alive. If you've got one, I'd love to read it. Anyways, friends, I hope you're all having a beautiful day and a lovely week. And I hope I see you again very soon.

But until then, remember you're loved, you're valid, you're important. you're the best you that you can be never forget it and until next time much love and sleep well