As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 116 - Creepy Neighbor, Unexplained Horror, Stalker & Paranormal Stories - 23 True Scary Stories

Episode Date: March 22, 2024

Welcome to the chilling 116th 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 Creepy Neighbors, Paranormal horrors, Stalker stories as well as other Creepy Unexplained stories. 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... GimmeThatCheese, William, AstridJ, pothosbabebelikov, Morbid_reflection (Ziggy), pjrdolanz, Excelsior1610, honeybee-blues, snowwhiteandthe7Js, pufferfishstole, Sea_Stomach6139, PrincessPunkinPie, Lyn101189, Raven, ColeyClaudette, PeytonLeigh0616, mlinktieline, Will&Jackie, Maia (via Amy), B_Mendoza, HALPME As Well As Any Author That Has 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. 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. My fiancé and I moved into a little neighborhood in eastern Kentucky back in 2019. It was a nice little place for the most part. They liked to have block parties, and just about everyone would participate in one way or another, and the demographics were all over, too. There were people close to our age, with and without kids, some older people, and even a guy that seemed a little out there,

but otherwise was mostly harmless. Surprisingly, the story isn't even about him. Rather, it was about our direct next-door neighbor, Martha. Martha started as a pretty normal neighbor. As we were moving in, we would catch her watching us from her front window or standing out on her porch, sweeping or dusting off her porch swing. Little things like people do under the guise of being nosy. We were the new people, though, so it was no big deal to us.

As we continued moving and getting settled in, she would smile and wave at us, but there wasn't much else in ways of contact from her. One day after reorganizing and some unpacking, we ordered a pizza, and since it felt so nice out, we sat out on the porch with two fold-out chairs and just enjoyed the night. That's when we officially met. She was taking out a bag of trash when she called out to us, so we started to us. started talking. She introduced herself, said that she had been divorced for over 20 years and that she got the house. She seemed to brag that she was pretty well made with the alimony and the few lawsuits that she had won. Kind of weird, but was whatever.

We introduced ourselves, and when I mentioned fiancé, she did what most people did and asked when the wedding was. We said that we were just planning on having a small ceremony at the wedding. the courthouse with a few close people, and then she practically scoffed. She spoke directly to Jackie, my fiancé, telling her that she hoped I was worth it if I wasn't willing to give her the world and have an extravagant wedding, and then told her not to settle. She laughed about it afterwards, but it was still kind of rude at first. Getting married was important to both of us. A large, expensive Sarah, was not. I even asked her many times if she was sure this is what she wanted, and she agreed.

I had to convince her to at least have a nice dinner party afterwards with just our close friends and family, because all of it really was not a big deal for her. But after that conversation, she just kind of lingered and then said that she would leave us be, and went back inside. We just chalked it up to having one of those neighbors, left it alone. A few months later, we were pretty well settled in, and since it was close to autumn, we wanted to start working on the backyard so it would be ready for us in the spring. There were a lot of dead vines along the privacy fence, weeds all over the raised garden bed in the

back, in the area that we wanted to use to start our own produce garden with, as well as some other potentially nice bushes that just needed some extra tea. After cleaning it up a bit, we had some music playing and just sat out back drinking a beer and enjoying our work. Shortly after, Martha comes out back and again starts talking to us. We mentioned what all we did, and Jackie offered to let her through the back so that she could see, and she agreed. She came over and she seemed impressed with what we had done. When Jackie started mentioning her plans for part of the yard, Martha cut her off. You need to get rid of those ugly bushes over there.

They make it impossible for me to see into your yard with them there. I try telling the couple that lived here before, but they never listened. Taken aback, I just looked at her, not sure how to respond. When Jackie laughed and said that she had no intentions on removing them, She said that they were pollinator bushes, so they were good to have. But that she would keep them trimmed, they weren't going over the fence to her side. But they were staying otherwise. Martha did not seem happy with this response and told us basically,

Well, it's your yard, I guess. And pretty much left after that. We both agreed that we may just put in more if we had to. From then on, Martha seemed to be against us. or more so against Jackie for the longest time. If we were outside, she would smile and wave at me, but the moment Jackie came around, she would grimace and walk away. She would greet me at the mailbox, but would hurry along

or even stand in front of our mailbox while she went through her own, blocking Jackie from being able to get to the mail. One of the worst things she'd tried was when Jackie was coming home from work, Martha was in our front yard and stopped her. She asked Jackie why there were so many different young girls coming and going from our home. When she questioned this, Martha claimed that she saw three or four really young and pretty girls visiting when she was gone, and that she thought about calling her but didn't have her number, hinting towards getting it from her. Jackie told her that she would handle it and walked away, only angering her more that she was denied her phone number.

and I really don't understand her reasoning for even wanting the number. Jackie, of course, told me what she said, which is how I know, and thankfully neither of us are the jealous type. She knew it wasn't true. The only other women that ever came over to our house were our moms, my sister, or sometimes Jackie, would come home with a friend, but that was it. It seemed to anger Martha more, knowing that whatever she was scheming, was not causing a rift between us. But it didn't seem to stop her. She tried to do all these little things to get under Jackie's skin at first. Jackie had a few yard ornaments out front.

The front yard did not have a fence, and they would be slightly moved. She had a ceramic flamingo wearing a Hawaiian shirt, sitting by the steps up to our door. Martha had moved it to the edge of our yard. I work from home and have always been a pretty big tech guy, so we've had security cameras since day one. We reviewed the cameras and we watched her pick it up and move it. Why, though?

We thought we would ignore it for a while, but after she did the same thing twice more, I finally confronted her. She always did it early in the morning. before we were even awake. But I set my alarm and was up and ready. When I got the notification on my phone, I immediately went outside to see her in a robe

and carrying our flamingo. I startled her when I loudly said, Hey, what are you doing? She dropped him, thankfully it didn't break somehow, and smiled at me saying that she thought someone was moving it, so that she was moving it back. I told her that it was always at the front, my camera shows her moving it.

She then tried to go through the list of excuses. It looks better over here. It looks creepy and she can see it from her window and she doesn't like it. And as she did this, she was opening her robe ever so slightly to expose her thighs or the top of her braw. This woman was old enough to be my mother, so I really don't like to think that's what she was going for. I told her that regardless of what she thought, she had no right messing with our stuff, and that if it continued, I would be calling the cops to get her trespassed. She seemed to take the not-so-subtle hint, and quickly walked away.

I really thought that that was going to be the end of it, and that we were just going to have a cranky old neighbor, but I was so wrong. We didn't have many interactions with her, besides her now being hostile towards the both of us. Until people started mentioning break-ins in the neighborhood. However, the only one reporting them was Martha, and she never told anyone who the victims were. And then, one day as we were making dinner,

someone knocked on our door. I went to answer it, and I was surprised to see two cops standing there. They asked to come in, and I of course let them in. I sat on the couch as they explained the recent break-ins in the area. Then he mentioned that Martha was a recent victim. I was surprised.

We heard and saw nothing, so I asked if she was okay. Sure, she was a pain, but I didn't wish any harm on her. One of the cops didn't have a very good poker face, and looked at me suspiciously while the other one kept the same demeanor and asked me more about it. until the question started becoming more accusatory. He then broke it to me that Martha claimed that she saw me throw the rock in her window, which is why they were over here talking to me. I told them neither of us had anything to do with it,

and that we had been home the whole time. I even told them about my cameras and showed them the footage. They looked over it, scrolled through the entire day, and they didn't see us leave the house once. or go over towards her place at all. I work from home and Jackie had the day off, so we had both been inside all day. Satisfied with what they saw, they said that they had no proof and only hearsay anyways, so they just wanted to ask questions.

They apologized for the intrusion and left. I was beyond furious. She was now trying to, what, frame us? I was even starting to doubt all of the brain. Raken's. Did she break her own window just to set this all up? Who would even do that? But just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, a few nights after that incident, Jackie and I were in the living room watching TV when there was a loud crashing sound, and our front bay window was smashed in, with a rock that was now sitting on our living room floor.

Jackie ran to the kitchen and called the cops, while I approached the front door, now holding the only thing close to a weapon that I had, an umbrella. I walked outside and saw nothing. Maybe they didn't realize we were home and fled when they heard a scream. But with everything else that had occurred that week, I went back to check the window, and my worry quickly turned into anger. There, on my living room floor was the small decorative rock

that Martha had along the side of her house. I knew that it had to be from hers, because they were all painted. I immediately checked my camera, and wouldn't you know it, she walked into her yard carrying this rock, lowered her head, I guess to try and hide her face, and threw the rock through the window. I showed the police the footage when they arrived, and they pretty quickly went over, and she was walked out in cuffs. After I calmed down that night, Jackie convinced me that the whole ordeal probably scared her enough,

and that we probably shouldn't press charges. Instead, she had to pay to replace the window and apologize to us, and to be honest, that was pretty satisfying. We got the window replaced pretty quick, and to our surprise, we rarely saw Martha after that. If she was outside and we went out, even if it was just to get the mail or take out the trash, she quickly went back inside. She attended one of the block parties since then, but she steered clear from us. We became pretty good friends with a couple across the street, and they said they were surprised because she used to complain about them a lot, but seemed to stop out of nowhere. So it appeared that we were not the only ones that she targeted.

I still have no idea why, though. We actually lived there for a few more years until we finally moved, but Martha was still there. I just hope the new owners either get along with her, or, on the other end of that, are willing to stand up to her bullying. Hi, Raven. I wanted to share a story with you, and this is probably the most interesting one I can think of. I hope it's something that you would be interested in, too, because I know. I know it's probably a little different than your normal stuff, but I love sharing it. Anyways, here goes.

This is a story about a little family heirloom that's been in the family for generations. I guess maybe some would call it a knick-knack or trinket, because it isn't really valuable, at least not anyone outside of our family. You see, all it is is a small porcelain figurine. It has a little girl and boy sitting on a swing, both smiling. There's a tree on it with a branch that goes across the top, which is where the swing attaches. However, the strings of the swing are real, which makes it actually move if you wiggle it, nudge it, or something similar. Now, between the twine that is used and the very small metal rings that attach it to the porcelain,

it makes a very specific squeak, or almost like a whistle when it moves, especially when it swings really hard. As far back as I could remember, it sat on a shelf in my grandma's house, and sometimes she would speak to it in Norwegian, a language my grandparents were fluent in. My mother was also pretty good at it, but I sadly never learned. I did learn a few phrases my grandmother used frequently, which included, love you, what to do, and now the equivalent of I'm a mess.

Sometimes she would even say these to the little swing. Being a kid, I always thought it was funny hearing an adult talk to an inanimate object. That was always my grandma. She was eccentric, funny, and always playful, so I pretended to do the same at times. But sometimes I would talk to it too, about random things. or being a child, I would just push it to make it swing. I liked to pull it back as far as I could and then let it go. Don't worry, I don't do that anymore.

But my grandma, mom would catch me doing it and would scold me, basically saying to be careful, as great Nana was afraid of heights. Again, being a kid, I didn't really grasp the significance of it, nor what Nana had to do with it, but I just let it be. But then as I grew older, the stories surrounding this particular heirloom started to make more and more sense to me. People would talk more about it, how it was a connection to our departed loved ones, a conduit for them to stay with us. Grandma explained when I was a little older that great Nana sat there so that she could see us and we could spend time with her whenever we wanted. I met Nana when I was very small, so I unfortunately don't have many memories.

memories of her. As I grew up and understood death and the meaning of it, it began to make more sense to me. Then when my grandparents passed, I fully understood the significance of the little swing. The swing was then passed down to my mom. She had four other siblings, and while some believed in it, others didn't, and they all agreed to let her have it. The swing sat on a corner shelf in our living room. Now that it resided in my childhood home, I got to observe it more and experience the phenomenon that was that little figurine.

Randomly, we would all be sitting for dinner or maybe watching TV, and it would start swinging. As I mentioned, if there was a movement or force to cause it to swing, it could. But there was no air near the shelf that would make it move. not to mention nothing else in the shelf moves sometimes it was a little squeak

and my mom would respond to it then there were times where I may have been arguing with one of my siblings or maybe one of us was arguing with my parents and it would swing violently and squeak my mom would come out to stop the fight and she would say to the swing thanks mom

or tell us to behave as grandma was watching It became a joke to us that grandma and grandpa were telling on us. But then there was one time that I was just having a bad day, and I found myself crying in my bedroom. My door was open as no one was in the house, as my dad was still at work, and my mom was outside playing with my siblings. I had gotten in trouble and was sent to my room.

But as I laid in my bed moping, I heard a very loud squableness. squeak, and I knew what it was. I went out to look at the swing to see it violently swinging. I approached it and put my hand on it to stop it. And at that moment, I felt a warm embrace around my shoulders. I knew it was my grandma comforting me. I told her that I was okay and that it was my fault as I did something bad and even apologized.

Shortly after, my mom came in to check on me. and she asked if grandma tried to talk to me. I explained to her what happened, and she agreed saying that this was grandma's way of talking to us, so that she could always be with us. For some reason, it made sense. Every time something bad happened, and it would swing, she was trying to stop it. That's how she always was with us, being the mediator of the family. So when I was having a bad day, I would talk to her via the story.

swing and would feel much better. Such was our life growing up, always talking with each other and consulting with the swing. Even when friends came over, I know I looked funny to them, but I would introduce them to my grandparents by showing them the swing. In 2014, my mom passed away. My father knew how much that swing meant to me, so instead of keeping it for himself, he wanted me to have it. And while I would have accepted him keeping it,

I didn't hesitate to call it my own. The swing now sits on a shelf in my living room, right next to a picture of my parents and grandparents. And as the tradition continues, she talks to me too. I feel like she's a bit more vocal, though. If I don't greet her when I come home, she starts swinging until I acknowledge her. when I have a bad day

I just sit and talk to her my now husband met her before she passed and he knew the whole story of the swing I had to make sure that he didn't think I was crazy before we got too serious he'll even make jokes with it when we play a fight or something

and it'll start going off we're now expecting our first child and I honestly can't wait to share it with them as well So there's my story of our little family heirloom That seems to be a conduit for our loved ones lost I've been trying to track down where it came from or who made it But no one in our family knows where it's from My mom told me that she remembered it being at her great grandma's house

And my grandma told her the same It seems to always be passed on to the women in our family too As it seems to be more powerful powerful or connected to us. There's also no sticker, initials, stamp, or tag anywhere on the piece to tell me anything about it. It's like it was homemade, or maybe a defective item, which I could believe either. On part of the branch, you can make out a small ridge section, like someone touched the wet paint, and left a very small part of a fingerprint.

I always wondered if maybe there was a way to have it identified. But knowing that it's old, I would hate to do something to it to change or ruin the way that it works. So I never did anything with it. It's also small enough to hold in one hand, but as a kid it was heavy enough to use both hands. So what was so special about it? Why this particular piece? What was it that connected our family members? members to it. Despite the unanswered questions and the unexplainable phenomenon,

I've come to appreciate the connection. It's truly a welcoming presence that I'm happy to be a part of, and I hope to pass along. I hope that you enjoyed this story. I have always wanted my own dog. I put a lot of research into it, and I decided to get a Bernese mountain dog, which my mom graciously paid for part of as a graduation present. One thing to know about this breed, and my dog in specific, serious, is that they are very friendly

and don't know a stranger. Before getting him, I saw videos of the same breed just napping while repair people came into the backyard. This was not an issue for me. We have a very protective St. Bernard at home,

and I didn't think we needed a second guard dog. and as I wanted to be able to take my dog out, it was better for him to be friendly. Around October, when the chill was just starting to form in the air, a friend and I decided to get some pumpkin-flavored coffee for us and a pup cup for Sirius, and then go to a local park to get him some exercise now that it wasn't too hot for him outside, and smoke some.

This is not one of the nicer parks. It used to have a dog park attached, but due to continuous flood damage, it was closed down and now the area where it used to be is mostly secluded. And there's plenty of people who use that for their advantage and do drugs there, like we had planned on doing. There's also lots of families on the weekends, but this was the middle of the week during school and work hours, so the park was pretty empty when we got there.

As we walked, we passed a man who was training, for something that I'm not sure I'd like to know about. He was carrying a full army pack and was drenched in sweat, and when I later told my stepdad about this, he said that he had seen the same guy running along the main road, where there are no sidewalks. Sirius completely ignored him. We also met a couple who had a Rottweiler puppy a few months younger than my dog,

and we stopped to let them play for a moment and talk to the couple. Serious had absolutely no issue with the pair, and was very happy to receive pets from them. Eventually, we got to the location we were planning to smoke at, directly underneath the train tracks, which is the most secluded location in the park, as there's only one path to get to it, unlike the rest of the park that loops around. This area used to be a road, but was purchased by the city for the park, so it's empty. Besides a house or two just passed the barriers. We're there for around 30 minutes, before an older man walks by, gives us, how's it going,

the way people do when you pass them on a walk, and then turns around and walks back the other way. A little while later, he passes back again and notices us still sitting there. It stops and then says, Are you girls all right? Are you waiting on a ride? This creeped me out slightly, but I tend to be overly cautious, so I say, no, we're okay, which was true. I had driven there and I was still nowhere sober enough to drive, and we were just enjoying the nice weather before it got too cold. He responds by telling us to have a nice day and turning around.

Serious, through these interactions, just continued to play with the stick that he was chewing. on. I mentioned these encounters, just to solidify how absolutely strange the next one was. Soon after, a man who seemed to be in his late 40s or early 50s started to walk towards us. Instead of turning around like the other man had done, he starts to walk directly towards us. Sirius absolutely loses it, barking and growling at this man and attempting to lunge at him. Despite the fact that he was only around seven months at this time, Sirius is a big dog,

probably around 70 pounds at this point, and the man was very freaked out, and just continues past us walking faster and keeping his distance. However, like I said earlier, there is nothing behind us besides an empty road in thick, heavy woods. My friend and I continued to sit there talking until I was sure enough that he was gone. That was weird, right?

I asked my friend about 30 minutes later. She agreed with me. Where did he even go anyway? That was something I hadn't considered at the time. But looking around, I couldn't think of anywhere he could have gone. Because we were high and stupid, we come up with the brilliant idea

to wait and see if he passes us again. And if he doesn't, we'd walk to walk to. toward the road behind us to see if there were houses that he could have gone to. However, him living in one seemed unlikely. He was dressed for hiking, with one of those backpacks specifically made for it. And if he lived so close, I didn't think he'd be dressed up for a hike. He doesn't pass us again, so we walk up the small hill and pass the barricade.

There's around three houses just past it, all pretty run down. In the second we get to the first one, a man comes out on his porch with a gun and just stares at us. So, safe to say, the people who live there aren't a fan of people from the park on their property. I think the only solution is that he went into the woods. I had never seen my dog act like that before, and I haven't seen him act like that since. Every other time he acts like everyone he meets has known him for his whole life. I've always thought that dogs have better instincts than us, and this just proved it for me. We're both pretty small girls, around 100 pounds and under 5'5.

And it's scary to think what could have happened had my dog not been with us, and we had no way to defend ourselves in such a secluded area. Nowhere near as creepy as the other stuff I've read on here, but still very strange, and I have no idea. Me and my mate, Dee, both 17, are both cruising around our local area in his new car. It's important to note that Dee had not passed his test, nor had insurance,

therefore we usually drove at around two or three in the morning. We pulled up to our local petrol station to get some cigarettes. I had a go-tee and didn't get ID'd, so we came here often. As we pull in, this pretty built dude asks us to roll down our window. We roll down and get chatting to him. He tells us that his wife is very angry at him because he's been on a bender and can't get home and is desperate for a lift back.

Then he offers us 500 pounds for a lift to a city that is only 40 to 50 minutes away. I'd be lying if I didn't say that our dumb 17-year-old brains immediately thought that this was an easy payday. Then the reality set in that we were driving illegally. But we didn't want to tell him that, obviously, so we politely declined. He then gets really insistent that we have to give him a lift. Like really insistent.

I finally realized that surely he can just get a taxi. A guy working in the garage would definitely call him one, and it's not like he's short on cash. nor would the taxi even break 100 pounds. So I say this to him, and he genuinely has no answer to it, and just insist that we give him a lift. The actual conversation went on for almost 20 minutes, but unfortunately I can't remember the details.

I offered to book him a cash taxi, and after many attempts of convincing him on how much cheaper it is, he accepts. We say we're leaving now, as, we were both weirded out, and he just turns to us and says, You guys are freaking idiots. We just kind of smile and then start driving. Out of nowhere, a guy, even bigger build, runs at our car,

and just throws his drink all over Dee through the open window. Obviously, Dee is fuming and jumps out of the car, and I follow. We walk up, and the guy that was talking to us profusely apologizing for his mate's actions. I remind D that we're driving illegally and the last thing we want to do is get in a fight and have the police be called. So we get back in, drive off, and cancel his taxi. The rest of the night, we were just trying to make sense of what just happened. It just never sat right with me. I don't know why he was so insistent. Maybe so when we got there he could just jump out and run so he gets a free lift for him and his mate. It could have been to be a free lift for him and his mate.

It could have been to rob the car, but then knocking out two fully grown lads for a beat-up dinger seems a lot of effort. I've always been genuinely curious as to what would have happened if we accepted, and how bad of a situation, it could have been. This happened when I was 13, almost 20 years ago, but I still think about it weekly and have a deep yearning to understand. I've never shared it because it was so unsettled. and confusing, but also deeply personal and comforting. My grandmother, Marietta, passed from lung cancer during summer break. I had a good friend Amanda who lived in my grandparents' neighborhood, right next to them. So whenever I would visit her, I would also play with my friend Amanda.

And even if I wasn't there, Amanda would visit with my grandmother, and they would talk about flowers and gardening. She didn't have a grandmother figure in her life, so I was okay with sharing every now and then. My grandma made a big impact on Amanda in those years. About a week after my grandma passed in July that summer, Amanda and I went to the movies. I had just gotten my first cell phone maybe three or four months before that.

A chunky plastic flip phone that couldn't text, but did have the game's snake on it. I had maybe four numbers programmed into it. We were waiting outside after the movie was over, and I get a phone call. It's my grandparents' home number, a home number that they have not used in over a year. When my grandma got sick, they moved in with my aunt and uncle, so the home number I grew up calling was no longer theirs, but was still programmed into my phone. My heart skipped several beats, and I should have been.

showed my phone to Amanda whose face also went pale, and tears wiled up in her eyes. That doesn't make sense, was all that she said as we looked at each other. And then, as if on cue, we both turned our heads and looked inside the glass door of the theater. It was packed in the atrium, a big circular open space that you walked through with your ticket before getting refreshments before the movie. To the left was a game room that was loud with the sounds of pinball in shooting games. To the right was an ice cream shop that was perpetually empty.

Who gets ice cream at the movies? And in the middle of the atrium, stood my grandmother, clear as day. We both gasped at the same time, but couldn't move our bodies. There was no skylight, but a single beam of light seemed to shine on

one person, standing in the very center of the crowd, everyone walking around her. I remember the softness of her white-grey hair glistening under the fluorescent lighting. I remember the smile on her face. One of knowing mischief is happening, but also knowing it's a secret. I remember the teal turtlene-tlene-turtle neck sweater she was wearing and the gold earrings she had on. I remember the way my heart tried to leap out of my chest,

the breath that I suddenly couldn't find, as a familiar ache appeared in my stomach. Grief was a close friend at that point in my life. I pulled my eyes away for a moment to glance at Amanda, whose eyes were also locked on my grandmother's presence inside amongst the crowd. Finally, she looked back at me, face filled with what I can only describe as momentary terror. We both began to cry. When we looked back, she was gone.

I looked back down at my phone and it showed a missed call, We went inside, crying and holding hands. We stood in the middle of the atrium where she had been, looking up at the bland beige ceiling for the source of light. There was nothing but the smell of popcorn and the scream of kids playing ski ball. After that happened, we never spoke about it again. We grew apart in the years after, and sometimes I think about reaching out to Amanda to see if she remembers what I do.

But part of me also wants to retain the memory as it is. Sacred and special and mysterious. And strange. First, I know that this will be a lot of text, so get ready. Second, this was a personal experience. I know what I heard and saw that day, and I don't need anyone's approval. I'm not asking for anyone to believe me. And I don't have any proof but my words, but...

I would like to share it here anyways. So, let's go. The year was 1999. I was a 10-year-old kid living with my mother, brother, and stepfather in a small, humble house, in Santana de Parnaiba, Brazil. We'd been living there for just over a year. For context, to this day, our home in the other houses on that street stays only on one side. The other house is, and the other side there's a big huge Atlantic forest reserve and there's a quarry inside of it as well today there's a tall wall that separates this forest from the rest of the neighborhood but in that year this wall did not exist yet also the street was muddy there was no asphalt there and that street was a bit far from the rest of the neighborhood if you go down the street you'll have to walk 200 meters turn right and take a street that

will lead to other streets, or just walk straight for almost one kilometer in an empty road with no houses, just trees and bushes, to reach another neighborhood. If you go up that street, you would find other houses, but always side by side on the same side. My mom's house was the first one, or last depending on the direction, of that street. So one night I was sleeping in my room along with my brothers, my stepfather, and mom, they were in their rooms, and they heard a loud, heavy, and slow steps on the ground, far away from outside the house, coming from probably down that empty road. The sound was heard from far away,

but it came closer and closer one step at a time, slow like an elephant on two legs. When the sound reached the house, these strange footsteps began to climb the outside wall, as there was no wall separating the house from the street. The steps kept the pace. They didn't even slow down when climbing the wall, as if it, whatever it was,

could walk up the wall unaffected by gravity. The house vibrated with each step, and then I woke up. I heard the last few steps on the wall, and then it started walking along the slab. keeping the same slow pace, until it stopped at the top of the stairs that gives access to the slab, and these stairs led to what was the living room at the time. To close access to the slab, there was a type of door made with a wooden frame and asbestos tiles,

at the top of the stairs, and from inside the house it was closed with a bolt and padlock, and the steps stopped right in front of it. and then things started to diverge a little here. I was listening in my bed without understanding what was going on, and after three or four seconds of silence, I heard a loud metallic noise rolling down the stairs, like someone had thrown a lot of tin cans. But my mother and stepfather said they heard a loud, heavy thing rolling down,

like a dead body or something. My mom and stepfather ran out of the room, as they thought that someone was inside the house. I was in my bed scared. When they entered my room, I asked what was happening, and they said that they didn't know. After checking under my bed, I couldn't help but be curious, and I went to the living room. There I saw that the access to the slab was still locked, and there was no cans or body on the stairs. Also, there were no running steps after that sound. Everything went silent, and the steps never came back.

My stepfather grabbed a flashlight, and we got up the stairs to check. Everything seemed to be in place, except for our dog. It was crying and was completely curled up, stuck in motionless in its own chain outside his house that was underneath our water tank. We never saw anything like this before or after that day. My mother and stepfather still live in the same house, but today it is renovated and completely different from that time. I know it's weird, and again, I have nothing to prove that that night really happened. But I know what I heard.

If you read all of this, thank you. I hope you at least found it entertaining, regardless of whether you believed it or not. I assure you that it was true, and I'm willing to answer any questions about my case or provide any details. When I was 28, I was looking for a new place to live. I wasn't too happy with the apartment I was in anymore, and I wanted to find something with a bit more room, but still a reasonable price. I was paying too much for a one-bedroom apartment, so when I found a duplex with two bedrooms and a full base, for nearly the same price, I was pretty thrilled.

It was in a nicer neighborhood, and was pretty close to my work, which was a real winner for me. I moved in quickly and settled in even faster. I'd like to think that I'm a pretty outgoing person, so I became curious when I hadn't seen my neighbor once while I was moving in. Until one day I saw a middle-aged woman leaving the other duplex. She was in a suit skirt with a jacket, obviously dressed for a nice office job, so I assumed she was probably just really busy and kept to herself. But the times that I started noticing her were pretty sporadic. It was only maybe two or three times a week, and sometimes I would see her arriving and other times leaving. One of those times, I was just coming home myself as she was leaving.

We made eye contact, so I stopped to say hi and to introduce myself. She was very nice, and she told me her name was Teresa, but she actually didn't live there. Her 80-year-old dad, Carol, did. She said she came to visit him a few times a week. She would get his groceries, take him to doctor's appointments, things like that. She also mentioned that he didn't get out much, so I probably wouldn't see him much, but that he would probably talk my ear off if I did see him. After talking for a little bit, she left and I went about my business.

From then, I would occasionally see him when he got his mail, or left with Teresa to go wherever. When we were outside at the same time, he would talk to me about pretty much anything on his mind. He was definitely a kind old man, and the fact that he pretty much kept to himself, it made me think he was going to continue to be a pretty great neighbor. This was a few months into me living there at this point.

I came home from work and saw Carol sitting out in the chair on his side of the patio in just his cargo shorts. He had a magazine that was rolled up, and he appeared to be swatting the air in an annoying manner. I approached him, and his face softened, and he jokingly said, Oh, how was work, dear? That was just who he was, and I didn't mind. We talked for a moment when he brought up how much he hated mosquitoes. I suggested bug spray and the little citronella candles. As we talked, I mentioned how I used to have the teaky torches on my apartment balcony,

so I could sit out there and not be bothered. He thanked me, and said that he would remind Teresa to pick some up when she went shopping for him next, and then we said goodbye. A few days later, I saw him outside again and watched from my window as this man sprayed himself all over with the bug spray. He sprayed his legs, his arms, his torso, and even above him like he was misting himself. It definitely looked strange to me, but then I thought maybe there was something about the bugs, like a phobia, or maybe he had a fear of being bitten.

Or maybe they were just really that much of an annoyance to him. It really wasn't my place to judge, so I left it alone as life continued on as normal. But it was the following night that I sat in my living room, eating my dinner, when I started smelling something funny. It was a strong chemical smell, but I couldn't quite tell what it was. I was worried that something may have caught on fire and started walking around my unit. My cat had been sitting next to me, so I knew that she didn't get into anything. I checked all the sockets, anything electrical that I could think of, including the heat lamp on my iguana's cage. But everything seemed fine.

But the smell still worried me. Was it in my head? Was there something wrong with me by chance? I decided to walk out front to get some fresh air and see if maybe I could still smell it, out there. The answer was yes. I could definitely smell it. But I had also figured out what the source of the smell was.

It was Carol, once again spraying himself with the same bug spray, and I could now place that scent. We immediately started talking because he heard me open my door, of course. He claimed the bugs were getting worse, and were now getting inside his home. He talked about how he couldn't stand it so he spruce. sprayed all the vents, the doorways, even his air filter. He doused it with the stuff. I tried to get a better explanation at that point,

wondering if he was still talking about mosquitoes or something else. All he could tell me was that they were bugs and that they were everywhere. I told him to be careful with the spray, trying not to sound mean and said that it could be harmful to ingest, and that maybe we should contact the rental office so that they can treat for them instead. He said that was probably a good idea, and I went back inside, opening some windows to air out my side of the place. I made a mental note to myself to let Teresa know the next time I saw her to do the same,

and to not buy him more bug spray. I was able to let her know, but she said that she had only bought him the one can, and assumed that he probably ordered more online as he did do that sometimes. Again, it wasn't my place to tell her what to do, but the amount that he was using was almost disturbing, and to practically drench yourself in it was not good either. I saw my share of mosquitoes out there,

but he made it seem like there was a swarm of them all over him at all times, and I can assure you that that was not happening. I just told her what I saw and that I was concerned with him spraying it so much, and she said that she would talk to him about it, and that was that. Unfortunately, the bug spray wasn't even the worst of it. While I was in bed, going in and out of sleep, I had become pretty hot, and was almost irritable with how hot it was. I sat up in bed wondering if there was something wrong with the AC,

and no sooner than when I got out of bed, the smoke alarms started going off. I panicked and ran out of my room to see flames from the living room window and tons of dark smoke coming in from the vents. I grabbed my cats and my iguana, scaring them both, I'm sure, and ran through the back door, running to the front yard. I had a button latch on my hatchback so I was able to open it and put them both in there. thankfully they both get along too I had to put them up before I actually approached the cause of the flames

because it was coming from Carol he was holding one of those teaky torches against the wall and was watching it as it slowly caught fire I screamed at him what the hell are you doing but when he turned around that was a face I had never seen before he looked so angry and his eyes were so wide they looked like they were going to pop out.

He said that he finally figured out a way to get rid of the damn bugs. He said that he made a fire on all of his vents, which also meant that our shared wall was on fire and was now torching the outside. I was so afraid to approach him, being a small woman, but I did, and he surprisingly handed the torch over to me. But he continued to talk about what he had done. Like it was some hobby or other harmless project that he was working on.

I had my phone on me, and I had grabbed it as I was rounding up the pets, so I finally called 911 once I had my bearings. The whole time, Carol was just continuing to talk in the background. The fireman arrived quickly and put out the fire, and we both talked to the police about what had happened. Thankfully, Carol did have Teresa's number memory, memorized. So we called her, and she was there pretty fast, too. It was the only time that I ever saw her not dressed up.

That was an awful moment right there, and I think it really opened Teresa's eyes about what was happening. What did you do, Dad? She was pleading with him as he continued to talk about the bugs. It was terrifying, but I also felt so bad about the whole thing. I felt like it was my fault. I shouldn't have brought up the spray or the torches or any of it. Once the smoke cleared, literally, they were able to go inside to assess the damage. Most of it was on our shared wall, and the outside wall, of course, and there were some burn spots on the carpet on Carol's side.

I had to move a lot of stuff out of my living room so that they could come in and repair it, but otherwise it was still a good sturdy building. I didn't see Carol much after that. Teresa had come by and got some of his stuff, but she told me that he was going to be living with her for the time being and said that she should have done that a lot sooner, joking that she would have saved gas anyways. I wished her well, and once all of his stuff was out,

that was the last that I saw of them. After some repairs on the other side, I finally got some new neighbors. It was a younger lady with a baby, and so far they haven't meant too bad. I still live there, so Carol lives rent-free in my mind. Sometimes I will randomly smell something funny, or I'll hear the neighbor's smoke alarm go off, and it sets me into a panic. We've talked plenty of times,

and she's mentioned how it goes off when she's cooking, so I know everything is okay, but my heart rate still jumps a bit when it happens. I do hope that Carol is doing better now, but since the fire was so close to home, it has kind of become a pretty big fear of mine. Leaving my friend's house, I accidentally backed into a brick mailbox.

My bike rack hit the mailbox, so my car was okay, but it completely demolished the mailbox. No big deal, right? that's why we have insurance, right? I went to the neighbor and told them what happened and gave them my insurance, phone number, and name. All I got was his first name. From the get-go, this dude was creepy.

He kept hitting on me, trying to date me, specifically trying to, quote-unquote, feed me. I left. On my drive to my mom's, I'm attending out-of-state college and parents are divorced. The guy I backed into, Robert, began to text me and call me. He was insistent that it was better for both of us to just pay out of pocket for the mailbox, sending me links to companies that could fix it for $500,

and demanding I go on a date with him so I could give him the cash for the repair, and he could feed me. I don't know what his deal with the food was, but I declined everything, but was starting to get annoyed by his constant text and calls. Finally, after two days of it with my responses only, Please contact my insurance. I sent him a text saying that he was harassing me. I blocked him, but he made a new number and threatened to report it as a hit and run to the police.

I'm in law school, okay? This wasn't a hit and run. I blocked the second number, and then he used a new number to ask me if I wanted him to send a screenshot or video of the accident to his insurance. I admit this made me angry. I called this number and dug my nails so hard into my thighs that I drew blood, as he threatened reporting things, asking me on a date, and trying to entice me to just pay cash.

I finally screamed, Don't contact me again, you effing inbred POS. My dad heard me and was upset that I said that to someone I wasn't an accident with, and that I said that to a guy who thought I was cute and just wanted to. a date. I then blocked the third number. Next day, he reaches out again to tell me I gave him the wrong policy number. I told him I didn't. He then said it would be easier to pay cash and that I was the problem, etc.

He was talking to his insurance, I guess, and began trying to validate my info. He had my mom's name, address, and phone number. I verified it. I told him to not contact me again and blocked his new number. Next morning, super early, I get a text basically saying he finished the claim, and I was awful for making it harder than it needed to be by going through insurance and not going on a date with him. He then included,

You're so beautiful and ugly at the same time. Don't take risks. Stay on the good path. Goodbye. At this point, I got scared. FRITNFIFTH number, blocked. Then at midnight he texts, You up? I know where you live. Don't try and screw me over on insurance.

I'll report it as a hit and run. You should have just gone on a date with me. I took the phone to my dad, showed him the texts, and filled him in. My dad, a pretty scary dude, then calls the guy. He answers. Shoot, I knew you were into me. When it come over? My dad got very mad.

My dad said that this was beyond harassment, that this was his final warning to not contact me, that we didn't care how he reported it. Robert began saying that I came on to him and offered sex as a payment, invited him to my house, and that I was a horny B-word. Instantly blocked. Police contacted, insurance notified all the things. Next day, talked to insurance. Protective order filed. Get another text. telling me I shouldn't have involved the police, block the seventh number, notify police, and then go stay at my dad's because the dude doesn't have his address. My dad is a very tall and very scary dude who loves his Second Amendment. Late last night, I'm watching Star Wars with my dad and older brother and the doorbell rings.

The dad goes to see who it is, and it is freaking Robert, with a trash bag filled with things that I, quote, left at. his house. I call the police. My dad goes ballistic, just all the things. The police come and arrest the guy. The bag? It was filled with lingerie, a knife, lip bomb, and a Dita Vontess fetish book. So I just met with an attorney. Plot twist, the guy doesn't own the house. He's an illegal immigrant, is married, and is being deported. I feel awful. that he's being deported, but I genuinely think that he wanted to assault and or kill me. I go back to school in a few days, and I'm so terrified that he or someone else will follow me.

Edited, to add, I've kept my friend, his neighbor, informed through the whole process. He hasn't reached out to her except for video of me backing into the mailbox. I don't know if an illegal immigrant can be charged with crimes, but he was arrested for stalking. walking, trespassing, felony assault, as he tried to push my dad and then spit at him, insurance fraud, as he lied about the accident to his insurance agent, possession of a deadly weapon with intent, the knife in the bag, and attempted breaking and entering. They just kept adding on the charges.

I thought I would post this here and see what you guys think. So I don't want to make this a novel, but a little background. This took place in early 2016. I was going through an incredibly tough time, emotionally and mentally. At the time, I lived in an illegal basement suite with my BFF. My bedroom wasn't a bedroom, really. It was like a big storage room. On the left, when you walked in the door was the laundry area,

with a very thin wall separating it from my room. The wall didn't have a door, just an opening. about five foot wide with no lights inside, so it was always shadowy. To the right, when you walked in, was a larger area of the room, my bedroom. It had about an eight-foot ceiling, and right by the door was a support pole in the middle of the room. On the far right was my bed, and straight across from the door, and the pole was a built-in wooden shop desk. So, I've always had vivid dreams, but this one goes beyond that, beyond even the least. beyond even the lucid dreams that I have had.

In the dreams, my BFF and I were sitting on my bed in my room, chatting. Everything was fine until I suddenly got a cold and terrifying sensation. I didn't want to look at my desk. As my friend was talking, I felt a pool keep telling me to look, even though I was afraid to. Eventually, I couldn't help myself and I looked over at my desk. Crouched beside my desk on the floor was a girl. I don't remember much about her, besides she had long, stringy hair, but I was immediately drawn into her eyes. They were blank white, and unlike any eyes I've ever seen in real life.

Like they were portals sucking me in. My friend, her voice, and the room around me faded until all I could see was this girl. and I felt this evil presence unlike anything I have ever felt. I was paralyzed from this darkness. It felt like it lasted forever, but at the same time, just a second or two, before I woke up in my bed. It was dark, and I was scared as hell. I've marked this asleep paralysis due to this next part. When I opened my eyes, there was light coming through my bedroom door for my BFF's nightlight in the hall, for seeing the bathroom.

I could see a silhouette standing by the pole near my door. It was not the girl. It was a tall, skinny, and completely black figure, like a shadow that I couldn't see through. It was almost absorbing the light instead of reflecting it normally. And it was tall, and unnaturally thin. It seemed to be stooped down to fit in my room. Although I couldn't see a face,

I knew that it had a mouth and eyes and was looking at. at me. I was scared witless, but somehow, very strangely, because I'm a wuss, instead of panicking, I thought to myself, screw this, and closed my eyes and fell right back to sleep. The next day, I remembered it immediately, but had no ill effects or any other encounters like it after. Now, this all just sounds like a typical nightmare or sleep paralysis, and it probably was. But what makes me personally believe this was an evil entity that visited me are three things. One, I had never and have never since had sleep paralysis. Two, I was going through a very dark time, the darkest time so far in my life, and I believe

I was very vulnerable emotionally and spiritually at that time. And three, I have never been more sure of seeing and feeling pure evil, as I felt when I looked at that girl. I have always believed in forcing negative energies away. Even if I don't always believe in them, I always tell spirits and ghosts, etc., to leave me alone. I don't need or want proof. I'm too scared.

I think that's why she didn't attach to me, even though I was very vulnerable. Obviously, this is just my takeaway from my own experience. I would love to hear other things. thoughts on it, or maybe someone has had a similar story, and I would love to read it. And thank you. Back when I, male, was about 16, I fell extremely ill. It seemed to start as a stomach bug as I was nauseous.

My head was splitting, and there were other unpleasant symptoms. My parents let me stay home from school, and when I wasn't better the next day, they let me stay home again. But I only seemed to get worse. I stayed in my bed for three days, only briefly leaving to use the bathroom if I needed to, which was rare, because I couldn't keep anything down, not even water. My parents would come in and check on me, and I would just say that I was about the same,

thankful that I was at least still coherent. The real problem, and story here, began on the fourth night of suffering through this. I woke up in the middle of the night, really needing to use the restroom. The problem with this was that I was too weak to get there. The room was spinning, and keeping my eyes open longer than a few seconds would make me feel sick. So, I resorted to rolling out of my bed and crawling to the bathroom with my eyes closed. I could feel my way to my door, through the hallway and into the bathroom.

I remembered getting to the toilet, but then being too increasingly. incredibly weak to do anything else. I tried to pull myself up and only became sick. The only energy I had left was now consumed by the dry heaving, and I collapsed on the welcoming cold bathroom floor. I don't know how long I was there, but at some point, I heard my mom say my name and ask if I was okay. All I could muster was a groan, and I felt her presence and rub my face.

She mentioned that I was burning up, and I felt a cold rag rub my face and mouth. She then picked me up, and I felt the motions of her carrying me and placing me back in my bed. She held a glass in front of me and said that I had to drink some of this, that it was very important. So as she held the straw to my mouth, I took a few large gulps and stopped. She then said that she was going to take me to the hospital in the morning, kissed the top of her. of my head and left the room. The next morning I heard my mom's voice once again, but this time she sounded a bit perkier.

She asked me if I was feeling better. With the light coming in from the window, I kept my eyes closed and told her no. She seemed confused and mentioned the glass of water that was half full and the rag on my head. I reminded her that she did that and had also brought me back to my room. I also told her that she said she was going to take me to the hospital.

She didn't say anything else, but shortly after, my dad came into my room. He helped put a robe on me, I was just in my boxers, and carried me to the car. My mom was taking me to the hospital just as she said she would. I was in the hospital for another two days, with very little memory of it. But from what my mom told me, after I was. was home and more coherent it was a good thing that she did I was severely dehydrated and the doctor said that the water I drink that night probably gave me the strength I needed to stay conscious but that it could have been a lot worse if I wasn't brought in

to get fluids in me I forget what exactly I had but yeah it was pretty bad anyways we talked about something else about when I was at home sick and that was the night that I collapsed in the bathroom. She had me explain everything again and just went pale. I figured it was because of what I told her, about crawling in there or something, and mentioned that it wasn't her fault because I probably didn't describe how I was feeling well enough.

Boy, was I wrong. The problem with what I said was that she said she didn't do any of that. She said that she didn't wake up at all that night. She didn't find me in the bathroom. and she certainly did not carry me back to my room. And that's where it really dawned on me. There was no way my mom carried me to my room. I was taller and heavier than her.

I was a teenage boy. I asked her if maybe she had dad carry me and she said no, that he was in bed all night too. She said that she also didn't clean me up. She didn't bring me the water or the rag. But then she asked my young, younger brother about that night. He said that he heard a groaning sound that woke him up because it scared him. He was too afraid to leave his room, but as he listened, he did hear my mom's voice as well.

And from there, he just assumed everything was fine and then went back to bed. So I talked to my mom that night. She helped me, and she carried me back to my room, and my brother also heard her. But she claims that she did none of that. I could definitely believe the carrying part because she could barely lift me off the ground. So, then, who was it?

Somebody had to have carried me to my room and cleaned me up, because I certainly didn't. I could believe that talking to her was a hallucination, with how ill and dehydrated I was, but then who carried me? My parents

keep saying that I must just not be remembering going back to bed. But it doesn't make sense to me. I remember passing out on the floor and waking up to her talking and physically feeling somebody pick me up. If I did do it, then that means that I would have had to have stood up to even grab myself that glass of water. I still don't know what to believe about what happened that night.

I knew that he was scared and that he was pretty young, but I wish that my brother would have opened his door. He would have at least seen me go to my room and possibly answered some questions. All I know is that whoever or whatever carried me to my room and made me drink that water could have possibly saved my life. When I was a sophomore in high school, I used to be very close friends with this girl, Kay. Kay and I met in middle school and we instantly clicked. We would hang out after school very frequently. Kay had a very turbulent childhood. Deceased father, foster care, substance abuse mom, and Kay's family would househop a lot. Our sophomore year, Kay's family was staying with their step-aunt's ex-husband. My parents never really stressed about me

hanging out with Kay because she was such a kind soul and a great influence on me. Now, the man Kay was staying with, let's call him R, was interesting to say the least. I remember the first incident that made me scratch my head. It was when we all went out to dinner with Kay and her family, and R tagged along. Kay and I were sat at the table with him, and he was venting to us. I was 16, Kay was 16, and he was venting about his dating life and showing us pictures of his Tinder bio, and all the women that he was chatting to. We both kind of laughed it off,

and engaged with him not thinking much of it. Sometimes when Kay and I hung out, R would have us come to the basements, and he had his room with a drum kit, and he would play them for us with the lights off. Anyways, the strangest encounter I personally had with him was when I went to Kay's house to hang out for the day, and she went to take a shower.

hour. While she was in the shower, I was sitting in her room, and R wandered in and told me he wanted to show me something cool in his room. Kay's room was on the first floor, and R's room was the only room on the second floor. Being the naive girl I was, I agreed and followed him up the stairs. When we got to his room, he realized it was locked and seemed very annoyed and jittery, because his key was downstairs. Now, instead of going downstairs, R takes a credit card out of his wallet and tries to unlock the door that way.

Thankfully, it didn't work, and something clicked in my brain. I decided to go back downstairs and sit in the bathroom with Kay until she was done with her shower. I'm now 23, and looking back at it, I honestly don't think there was anything cool to show me in that room.

and I think the moon and the stars that he never got it unlocked. I never told Kay, but as we got older, I casually asked her if she had any weird encounters with him, and she said no. I'm not really sure how to end this, but I'm thankful I never got to see what was beyond that door.

Hey, Raven. I just want to start with, I've recently discovered your podcast, and the first time I heard you, you read out, Hey Raven, I about jumped out of my skin, and it sent chills down my spine. My name is also Raven, and I genuinely thought you were speaking to me. Anyways, there's been three moments in my life that I cannot explain. The first moment being when I was much younger, around the age of eight or nine.

I was in my room playing with my cat. The house was empty. Both of my parents and older brother were outside. When all of a sudden, a very loud sound of static came blaring from my parents' room. I had quickly jumped up to go investigate. I peeked into their room and realized that the sound was coming from an old alarm clock. The alarm clock was dusty and had not been plugged in in a very long time. I was later told that there could have been batteries in,

it, but even if there was, who turned on the radio. Another moment, me and some friends had decided to try and use a Ouija board. There was four of us there, two males, Jay and Ben, and two girls, me and Kate. Ben and Kate took the Ouija board down to our chosen spot, which was a gravel spot next to an old forest. A small creek ran through the forest that I had once found an old arrowhead in the box, bottom of. So, we, of course, thought that seeing if we could contact any Native American spirits was a great idea. While Ben and Kate took the Ouija board and some candles to our spot, me and Jay had walked up the road to another friend's house. I was dropping off a gift

I had gotten him while we were out. On our way back to where Ben and Kate had gone, Jay had gotten some ways ahead of me, and I was trying to catch up. Then, out of nowhere, I heard the sound of footsteps. They sounded as if they were running up behind me. But Jay was ahead of me, and no one else was out. Suddenly my entire body was hit with these cold chills, and I felt stuck. I couldn't move, and then tears began to come down my face uncontrollably. I remember calling out to Jay asking if he was messing with me, but he of course,

The horse looked just as confused since he was ahead of me. Then the feeling started to ebb away, and I was able to move again, and catch back up with Jay. We continued down towards Ben and Kate. When we grouped back up, Ben and Kate had left the Ouija board and candles on the gravel together, and we had circled up to figure out how to use the Ouija board safely. We came up with our game plan, and when settled, we finally turned to start. Jay went for the candles, but they were gone. We all began checking our pockets, but nothing.

Then we checked the surrounding area. The gravel, the bushes, the grass, nothing. They were just gone. We never could find those candles. Another moment I was riding in the car with my now ex-boyfriend one late night. It was cold and had snow on the ground. though it was not actively snowing when we left his house. Well, we came back to a roundabout in the road, and I blinked.

When my eyes came back open, we were at the roundabout entrance, and a car was coming straight towards us, with their bright headlights on. There was heavy snow falling on the headlights, and then I blinked again, and we were out of the roundabout. The other car was gone. And there was no falling snow. To give some background information, I run a pod simply for fun or to bring awareness to the dangers of the world and people around us.

But learning about weird occurrences and true crime has made me more weary of people and behavior. I'm usually really good at chopping occurrences as people just being people. But I do work in an area known for sketchy behavior, drugs, abductions, and stuff like that. That being said, this happened while I was working the store alone. We have cameras, and I'm a fairly big person. I'm six foot and a heavyweight athlete. I'm female, though you really couldn't see that due to the amounts of layers that I was wearing. Around 12, my friend, who will call them A,

came to keep me company and sat behind a trash can we have in the corner of the store next to a heater. A man pulls up in a black Lexus and is making wide-eyed contact with me the entire time, which kind of made me uncomfortable, but with my size and appearance, I'm used to men gawking at me. He kept up the staring for a couple of minutes, and then the short man slinked out of his car. I say, welcome in, which was met with him starting to swiftly walk around and behind the counter where I work. I was cutting an avocado for my lunch and had a knife in my hand. I got a very strange feeling and told him sternly, If you need anything, I can help you over there.

You cannot be back here. A looked up and coughed. The man whipped around looking at A and briefly said, I don't need anything, and speed walks out, which left A and me with a terrible feeling. So A eventually leaves, and I sit down and study on my break where we are pretty dead for at least the next hour, usually. These three teens, around my age, probably a year younger, come in. The one that started talking to me was visibly sweating and shaking with nerves.

Which was strange, because it was freezing outside. Like, you could throw water and it would turn to ice cold. Thinking nothing of it, I asked what I could get them. He then blurts out, Can you give me an Uber? I said that I could order him one, which was met with, No, I have cash, can you give me an Uber home?

I said, no, I can't leave the store, and I was absolutely not going to be driving strangers on God knows where. He points at the phone in a charger that his friend was holding, and I said there's an outlet over there that you can use. He went to plug it in by my computer, which I said, Hey man, use the one over there. He walked all the way to the back to get right next to my stuff,

which was a little weird, but whatever. The girl with the two guys pipes up as soon as they sat down. No, you can't say that. You'd weird her out. While the other guys said, just go ask her. and then continued to whisper something about their plans. And, you know, I'm always happy to help, but I started feeling uneasy. Then they stand up, I kid you not, like five minutes after they sat down.

They just get up and leave and say, Bye, thanks for the help. And the main guy pulls keys out of his pocket and continues to get into the car that's been parked in front of my store the entire time. Also, very uncomfortable. comfortable feeling. Luckily, my manager came in shortly after. It was all fairly strange. This happened a couple of years ago to me and two other friends, 21 female. We were probably 17 at the time. It was summer and we had plans to go to our friends' house. There's this park

that is halfway from mine and hers, so my friends and I decided it would be nice to sit in this hut in the park, and have a smoke on the way to our friends. This was in the evening, so it was getting dark already, and time passed it was dark enough for the streetlights to turn on. It's important for the story to explain a bit how the hut was situated in the park. The park was shaped like a big circle around a lake, so the hut that we sat at had two entrances from left and right side. These entrances then connected to the main park path.

The hut is open and just has bench seats in a circle and a roof, but open air, if that makes sense. Anyways, the streetlights on the right side were not working, so it was extremely dark on that side. My friend and I are chatting away, and people are walking past like normal. Nothing strange. Then this man comes from the left, and is walking really slowly. Now, normally this wouldn't catch my attention, but it's the summer. and he had on a long, thick trench coat with a top hat that had a feather and sunglasses. He walked super slowly into the dark and just stood there in the dark.

I could make out his silhouette just standing there. At this point, all of my friends are quiet as well and we're feeling uneasy, as we're all girls. Then the man begins to walk back towards the street light that has light on the left side. He stands there for a couple of seconds, staring again, and then he proceeded to walk slowly down the path to the hut, still staring at us. We thought maybe he would just walk through and want to scare us, but no. He then sits down in front of us and begins to talk. For context, we live in Brussels, so he started speaking French and said,

What a lovely evening, ladies. We speak and understand for. French, but in that moment, we knew it was smarter to pretend that we didn't. So we just say, sorry, English. You can see him get agitated and mad. He starts going on this whole rant about how we should speak the language of the country and stupid English people think they're better than everyone else. As I said, he was quite mad while saying all this. I began saying to my friends that we should probably leave. Now, our friend is expecting us at her house. soon. Since my other friends were so scared to, the minute I said that, they said yes, and started

to walk the path to the main park path. But they left their bags and everything, and I had to call them back, like, guys, your bags. And they came running back, and while we were quickly gathering our things, he's just staring at us. We got our things and started walking, when suddenly we hear, hey, come back here. We turn around. and see him holding up a can of coke that my friend had left, and he said that we shouldn't litter and to come back and throw it away. We began to run at that moment, and we didn't look back. The whole way to my friend's house we were so creeped out and scared,

that we thought he would follow us or something, and any person who walked behind us, we panicked. What scared us the most was that he had his hands in his pocket the entire time, and the moment he held up the cocan there was something else in his hand that shined with the street light none of us could make it out but we assumed with the shape of the object and the way it shined from the light his behavior and him having his hand in his pocket the whole time as well

as calling for us to come back we think that he had a knife we've never seen that man since and all of us refuse to go around that area at night now It really scared us I know the story might not be as creepy of an encounter as some of the others that are posted here But this has stuck with me and my friends for a while To the point that we've named him the hat man

We're not sure what that man would have done if we had stayed longer or had come back to throw the coke can out But I'm glad that we didn't find out Be safe out there You never know people's intentions And if you've read the whole thing Thank you for taking the time. My sister Sherry and I were nearly eight years apart. She was the eldest.

Of course, that made me her constant tag-along. She was at the end of the boomer years, that made me Gen X, and completely opposite. Never mind that she was a winter and I was a summer baby. I am twice divorced. She was in her 27th year of marriage. Cher wasn't a just stay for the kids' woman. She was financially strapped to my parents. She was trapped all her adult life.

My mother had kicked me out after the first divorce. After that, Cher and I had a very business-type relationship. We always stayed in touch no matter the fuss. We lost our dad to a fatal car crash in 2012. Then we lost Cher to four different terminal cancer. on December 16th of 2020. In her last moment, she said, Why does my birthday have to be so far away?

It would have been on the 29th. She was in unimaginable pain, but wanted one last Christmas and birthday with us. Their deaths took all barriers away between my mother and I. Her mother was in the TB clinic, at least five times in my life. Unfortunately, my mother got the most powerful, jeans from her, so now it's my fight to stay close to her. In Irish families, seniority is everything.

Now it's my turn to take the reins, as I'm the eldest child. It was several years after Scher's passing that she finally touched me. I was in the bathroom, of course, leave it to my sister. I felt like someone was gently placing their hand on my left shoulder. I ignored it. We are a superstitious family, but sprinkled with dash of skepticism. Then, when I walked into my room, I felt like a pointed finger tapping on my left shoulder again. I felt like my roommate had snuck up behind me. I turned around and saw no one. My anxiety was at an eleven, but I said out loud,

Cher, if that's you, contact me any way you want. Just don't touch me, please. She hasn't since. But will not leave me be. Same with my niece Ashley. She has her way of reaching out to each of us. Leave it to my sister. She's the type that would be waiting in line for heaven,

get to St. Peter and whisper, I have some unfinished business. I'll be right back. Very soon after, the hearts would appear to my niece everywhere she went. In the clouds, boulders, and trees that she had walked by with Cher so many times. Then the numbers began. I blew it off several times until I couldn't anymore. I was on workers' comp, and I could care less what day it was, let alone what time it was.

I began seeing one-11, or 11-11 on my clocks so often that I stopped to listen to her. I would just acknowledge share and thank her for reaching out, that I'm looking after the family the best I could. I finally started delicately asking her daughter if it happens to her. She was in shock, of course, and began sharing every moment that she could remember. Surprised, yet not, she'd been seeing 3.33 all the time. I remember her calling while we had been texting in Messenger. She felt so validated that she wasn't crazy. Cher and I had a love-hate relationship with Christmas after my niece and nephew were born.

A piece of her truly did love it. I hadn't since we moved so far from our family in CT. The first Christmas we spent at moms after she passed, it gave us more evidence than ghost adventures ever did. I had called my niece to see when mom wanted us there. She turned around and said, You won't believe what I'm looking at. In a panic, I said take a screenshot.

The time on the only stove was 1111.1.8. all the others were a minute later. Cher was a fantastic cook and her kitchen was her world. We just said, there she is, saying Merry Christmas. Then, as I was about to pull into my mom's apartment complex, my clock in the car was 1.11 p.m. I took a pick to show my niece later. After dinner, as we were in mom's kitchen cleaning up,

My cousin, my niece and I were honestly focused on getting the kitchen cleaned up for mom. Then we had planned to open the gifts. My cousin was facing the stove, and my niece and I were facing away from it. We had decided to talk to her about the things that Cher had been doing to us. My cousin began raising her eyebrow and interrupted us. She said, sorry, but you should turn around right now. Look at the stove. And of course, what time was it?

it was 3.33 p.m. She hasn't stopped. It's been four years now, and I always know when my niece is thinking of calling me. When I should check on mom, when something is very wrong. The time isn't all she can do. She was never tech-savvy in life. She is now, though. Anyone with a YouTube playlist will know this,

that it takes at least three steps to edit it in any way. I always watch a specific playlist of music before a therapy session whenever it was my therapy day. After a really taxing week, soon after New Year's, I went to start my playlist that I named therapy license. The first song was one that I never added, even though it was a song that my idol sang. That was it. I always wanted to believe but never had an experience until she passed. She continues to this day. It's been four years now.

There was a huge ordeal between my mother and us on how she should be buried. My niece heard her say multiple times before hospice came that she wanted her ashes spread out at our beach, where we grew up in CT. Mother wanted a proper Irish burial near family, so she had a place to visit her. We agreed. Circumstances caused a delay. My niece and I decided to let my mother to have her away. She had a portion of the ashes, and she said that we'd take her home on our own. Things have changed now.

We'll be taking her home this summer. We all feel shares not at rest and won't let go until then. I am looking forward to giving her the peace that she needs to move on. I will miss her terribly. Something in me really believes she won't show up every now and then anymore. it makes me feel like I'm going to be grieving her all over, though no one in my life yet deserves to more. I really thought, if I ever experienced anything paranormal, it wouldn't make me feel like my soul is breaking.

Yet a part of me is so selfish, and just wants to keep those little moments coming so I don't feel so alone. The biggest part of my heart can't wait to rent an Airbnb for June, enough room for everyone who wants to wait. watch us. We plan to buy a spray of Cher's favorite flowers to take one last swim with her. Love you too much, my big sissy. I will be so happy that you can feel free to spend time with our family, as most are there waiting for you. Peace be with you, Cher. I'll see you when it's my time. The O.P. actually wanted to add some more details, and they sent me a message with the information. It's kind of a continuous saga, really. My cousin was a... very close with her. They were the eldest kids in the family. She was the one who saw the time

at my mom's at Christmas. I began going back to therapy soon after her passing. She didn't tell my mom or I that she was terminal. I think that she knew we would never give up on her care, but she was ready to stop. The treatment was making her much worse. I couldn't get that. So much time I could have had with her if I knew. I would cry every time she showed up at 1.11 or 11-11. Sometimes it felt like she was in the room with me. I would talk to her a bit and then let it out with therapy. They asked me to center myself before a session,

so I made a YouTube playlist of my favorite music and would meditate. A couple of months into it, I went to start it, and that list had changed order. Anyone who has one knows that it takes a few steps to move. the order. It was so jarring that I didn't even talk about it right away. I felt like I should talk to my niece first since she was going through it too. I feel like even she had had a hard time believing it right away. Then it happened again the following week. Again two weeks later. Now she gets it. It didn't stop until I finally told my therapist. I felt like she wanted me to let them know that she is still taking care of me.

A little over a week ago, I posted here with my story from the summer that had been sitting really poorly with me. You can read the whole thing here, or for a TLDR, that's too long, didn't read, late at night, and my friend's very remote cottage, I went outside, heard a super-close, super-identifiable sound of a hunk-a-hunk-hunk-clown noise. but nothing was visible. My dog acted super weird all night while there. I didn't tell anyone.

A few months later, my buddy whose cottage it was told me that he had relentless nightmares of clowns while he slept there as a kid. There's more nuances to that, if you care to read the full post. Things have gotten weird since. The night that I posted, my boyfriend and I fell asleep on the couch. We went to bed, and while laying there I asked if he checked the doors were locked and he said yes. I decided to get up and double check in case in our sleepy state he missed one. They were both locked.

I woke up around 2.30 to some weird noises that I chalked up to my downstairs neighbor, just having a late night. I got up to go to the washroom to find the back door unlocked. Weird. I do a quick look around the house, but nothing's stolen, so I lock it and go back to bed. The following morning, I'm on my couch having coffee. Dog is in her bed in my room still. There's like a sofa table and a couple feet of space behind my couch.

And I heard freaking knuckles cracking, like one hand and then another. My first thought that ran through my head was, oh crap, the door was broken into last night. and someone's passed out behind the sofa and I didn't check here last night. I live like two blocks from a homeless encampment. Weirder things have happened in my neighborhood. I jumped off of the couch, but nobody was there. I decided that, from the post yesterday, my best course of action is to control my emotions, set intentions, and be firm.

I have a smudge stick that someone gifted me ages ago, so I tear the house apart looking for that. open the doors and windows, and walk around firmly telling whatever it is that it is not welcome here, and that I only accept love and light in this home. It was a nice day, so I left the window right behind the couch open. An hour or so later I'm sitting there and the freaking window slowly closes, making this horrible squeaking noise, and then slams shut. The dog, who's now beside me on the couch, gets up all freaked out, goes and sniffs the window and then screws off to behind my bed where she hides in lightning storms.

So, at this point, I'm over this. I want to get out of the house, but at the same time I have all this stuff from the thread the day before running through my head about not letting this control my emotions. So I resolved to leave. But still calmly get ready, like, like I normally would. I'm in the shower, and suddenly I feel all wrong. I turned my whole body so I could see both edges of the curtain, like I was sure something was going to reach in. I decided to be brave and slam open the curtains, only to find my freaking sink cabinet doors open,

and I did not open them. Last night, I woke up in the middle of the night to two bright orange dots on the wall, The opposite wall has no windows on it. I'm weirdly obsessed about no light while sleeping, so there's no electronics projecting light. And when I kind of stared at them, they got brighter. But that kind of felt like it could have been an optical illusion,

that the longer I stared at them, the more they came into focus in the dark. And as I'm considering all this, I realized a third one had formed and was now getting brighter. And now, here I am. Unsure if I'm going crazy or what's going on. I don't know how to describe the feeling I'm having. It's fear adjacent, but I think I have a grasp on the idea that this thing can't really hurt me if I don't let it.

I just feel kind of crazy. I haven't told anyone about this IRL, and just needed to get it off my chest. Maybe to be validated that this is. is weird and that I'm not insane. Edits to add, also I've been having crazy wild nightmarish dreams all week. This is super significant

because I haven't dreamed since I was a kid. I, 22, female, was on vacation in San Antonio with a friend for New Year's. In retrospect, I would have picked anywhere else to celebrate, but I had never been to San Antonio before, so I thought it would be cool. When we pull up to the place, it's very obvious it's not in a great neighborhood.

But it was extremely cheap and within walking distance to the riverwalk. I'm no stranger to questionable neighborhood, so I wasn't too concerned about the area, as it was very quiet. On the day of New Year's Eve, my friend got food poisoning and asked me to get them some stuff from the gas station down the road. I wasn't comfortable taking their truck, and since it was only an eight-minute walk, I started heading out. I got to the gas station, no problem, but they didn't have pediolite, so I started walking to another gas station, only five minutes away. This is where it gets sketchy.

I'm halfway to the next gas station, and I notice there's two homeless guys walking around outside their tents next to the street that I'm on. Originally, I was going to walk past them and pay them no mind, but when I got closer, I could tell that they noticed me, and were staring at me, hard. I'm 5-5, not super athletic, pretty strong, but I'm not taking my chances with two grown men. Instead of going straight past them, I turned to the corner. I assumed they would go about their business and leave me alone. I hear one of them say, Hey Randy, come over here. And I glance behind me, and I see three men now following me.

They're far enough away where I'm not worried, but extremely cautious. I glance behind me again after a few minutes, and they're hunched over huddled up like they're trying to sneak up on me, much closer this time. I make the smart decision to say screw the pediolite and round the corner back towards our place. I may be one to two blocks away when I check behind me again, and they have also rounded the corner and are walking quickly.

I start booking it, and I hear the men behind me yelling at me. I didn't look back this time, but I could hear shuffling feet breaking into a run. Thankfully, I made it inside before they could see where I went. I peeked out the people in the door and watched in horror, As these three men came barreling around the corner and frantically looking around for me. They're arguing and pointing around, but eventually they screw off. If I wasn't so alert, I shuddered to think what would have happened.

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Via Rae, the voice that we love. Hello, Raven. It's Amy again. I have a friend who lives in Colorado. And just recently, she had a very scary experience involving one of her neighbors. She gave me full permission

to share this story to your channel and just asked that I gave her a fake name in different location for the story. I hope that you enjoy this one. It was a very scary experience for her, but in the end, she is okay, safe, and the issue was resolved. Back in spring of 2022, I, 39-year-old female, had just purchased my first home in a small town in Michigan, to be closer to my family. Growing up in a somewhat low-income family, I was more than excited and proud to have finally purchased my own house.

I was single, no kids, no pets, and this was a big milestone for me. The house was a bit smaller, definitely single-family-sized, with just two bedrooms, one bathroom and one level. But it was more than enough for me. My backyard had no fence, and it also led to the neighbor's backyard, who also didn't have offense. The neighbor, who I didn't formally get to meet, appeared to be in his mid-50s, average height, and had a few tattoos on his arm.

Now, I'm a pretty private sort of person, so I didn't make note to go over and introduce myself to him, and vice versa. We both kept to ourselves. But that soon changed. About maybe a month into moving in, I woke up one morning, a cup of coffee in my hand, and was about to sit on my porch that overlooked my backyard. I remember it was on a Saturday because I didn't have to go into work that day,

and was planning on enjoying a quiet morning peacefully, just enjoying my coffee and reading on my porch. However, when I stepped out, I noticed something that I was not expecting to find in my yard. My neighbor, who I'll just refer to in this story as AJ, had installed a small chain link fence. Now, most of you, including myself, would at first think there's no problem with that, as long as it's on the neighbor's property line.

But when I took a better look, I noticed there was a door on the fence. Basically, the gate was right in the middle of the fence that would open right up into my backyard. Curious, I walked over to closer inspect the fence and did see that the gate door was in fact installed to go between my yard and the neighbor's yard. Most fences, when installed in a backyard, are intended to run along the perimeter of the side

between each property. So having an open gate door seemed odd. I decided not to say any, to the neighbor about this, just noting that it was weird and put the issue in the back of my mind. However, about a week later, as I was once again coming out onto my porch, I noticed something lying in the middle of my backyard. I walked over and saw that it was an empty beer bottle. I bent down and picked it up, and I noticed the gate between my yard and AJ's yard was left wide open. I looked around and didn't see AJ was anywhere in sight, but I could only assume that the

empty beer bottle and opened fenced door were his doing. This definitely became a red flag for me, and I started to make more notes of being wary of him. Things quickly escalated, and the next morning, when I woke up, I was making my morning coffee and had heard a thud on my porch. I quickly opened, opened my back door and stepped on to my porch to see my neighbor sitting on one of my chairs, smoking a cigarette. He didn't even look surprised when I saw him. Appalled and even a little scared, I asked him what he was doing on my property. He just smiled at me and shrugged his shoulders. I again demanded to know why he was on my property, and I asked him to leave immediately.

Again, he sort of just shrugged his shoulders, stood up, and walked off the porch. He left through the open fence door, while I angrily shouted at him to not come back on to my property again. At first, finding the empty beer bottle and open gate had me aware, but now I was on high alert and scared about this. I talked to a few friends and family members about it, and they suggested. that I start installing a security camera on my back porch, so I can have physical evidence if AJ should ever return onto my property. So I did just that, and with the help of my brother-in-law, the camera was installed. My sister also argued that if the door on his fence was opening into my yard, I should go

as far as putting a padlock on the door to prevent AJ from being able to come onto my yard. I didn't think that was necessary. Now that I had the camera installed, I felt a little more at peace about the situation. A few weeks later, it's around 9 or 10 at night. I'm in my bedroom, curled up in bed with my book, when my phone notifies me of movement spotted on the security camera. I pull up the camera footage, and to my horror, I see my neighbor standing on my porch,

and seemingly checking out the door. Fortunately, it was locked, but the camera live feed showed him actually trying the doorknob. Horrified, I press on the microphone button for my camera and tell him that I can see him, tell him that he needs to get off my property right now. AJ looks up at the camera and gives that same non-carrying smile and shouts that he just wants to talk to me.

I repeat to him to leave, and that I would be calling the police. I jump out of my bed and phone the police, all while watching AJ just standing on my porch. To sum it up, he eventually left before the police arrived, but they did issue him a trespass warning. And no, this still wasn't the end of it. From then on, I did not feel comfortable even stepping on to my own backyard. Any yard work I did, I dreaded doing and worry that AJ would be outside and that he would try to approach me. I did start the process of getting a privacy fence installed in my yard just for extra security measures. I also would still find an empty beer bottle or two lying in my yard,

to which I finally took the advice of my sister and put a padlock onto the fence door, in hopes of preventing him from being able to enter my yard. Still, this did not deter him. My security camera showed him break the padlock and open the door. When this happened, I had rushed out phone in hand and recording him on my phone as another form of evidence of him trespassing onto my property again. He actually had the audacity to yell at me for placing a padlock on his fence, while I argued back that he was now trespassing on my property,

even after being given trespass warnings by the police. Eventually, I got my privacy fence installed. I had hoped that this would finally put a stop to AJ, and yet this only showed how much further he was willing to go to trespass and enter my property. I had actually recorded him climbing over my privacy fence and jumping into my yard, As usual, I had to demand that he leave and that he was being recorded. Then, the worst had yet to happen. It had been around a few months of this constant war with AJ,

when I was awoken one night, around 2.30 in the morning, to a loud crashing sound at my front door. Startled, confused, and terrified, I snatched the golf club that I had been keeping underneath my bed and went out into the hallway to investigate. To my absolute shock, my front door had been kicked in. It was still on its hinges, but the door was kicked in so hard that when I went to check the damage,

I realized I wouldn't be able to close or lock it. I quickly dialed the police and my parents to tell them what had happened. By the time both the police and my parents had gotten to my house, I was a mess. The emotional trauma and terror over the last two months had finally taken its toll on me, and now I was outright terrified for my life. The police went next door and questioned AJ, and thanks to my recordings and previous history of AJ being served with the trespassing warnings and complaints,

he was served a restraining order, and after that, he had finally stopped harassing me. Within that same year, he ended up moving away for good. I know this story isn't as scary as a lot of the others that you hear, or have probably read, but this experience still terrified me. I had a neighbor who completely disrespected my privacy and my personal property. I still have no clue what his motives were each time I'd catch him on my property, or how much worse it could have gotten. I'm just beyond thankful that I never have to deal with him again and can finally put it behind me.

This happened a little over 10 years ago, but the memory is still very vivid. My parents had just rented a new house for us, and my sister and I were splitting the basement. I had my full-size mirror placed against the back wall at the time, so by looking in it, you could see the open doorway that led to the stairs. They were just around the corner of the doorway, so you couldn't actually see the stairs, though. Anyway, my sister also had a big wardrobe that she kept her TV on and her clothes in, which wasn't lying flat against the wall.

It came out at an angle, with its back towards the stairs, basically. So I was doing my makeup one day, not too long after moving in, and I looked down to grab something, and when I looked back up, there was a little boy crouched down in the corner behind my sister's wardrobe. I never got to see his face, but he was wearing a yellow shirt with red shorts and black shoes. As soon as I caught sight of him, even though he didn't see me, he got up and shot straight out of the doorway, and I assume up the stairs.

Of course, I got up as quick as I could and tried to chase after him, but he was gone. There was no sound from him. No heavy footsteps that should have been there by the way he was sprinting, and nowhere he could have hidden. The underneath of the stairs was open since we had just moved in, and I could see every inch of it. I don't know who that boy was.

I tried to research the house to see if there was any stories about it or a little boy in the area but couldn't find anything. All I know is that, after I looked at him, for him, I felt nothing but sadness following him. The whole area that I grew up in was known for shootings and illegal activities and such, so maybe he was a victim of something like that. I don't know. Just an experience that's stuck with me ever since.

I've been on this subreddit before, and I'm starting to realize I've unfortunately been a magnet for this stuff my entire life. So this happened a few years ago, and my brain is still fuzzy because, honestly, I've kind of blocked this out from my memory. My older sister, 23 at the time, and myself, 20 at the time, went to Washington, D.C. one year, and I was super excited because I'd never been before. We started the trip with a private tour of the Capitol building, where one of her friends worked at the time. I was honestly super stoked. Even though I had already become disenchanted with politics at that age, it was still really cool to be in the building and learn about the history of the country.

After that, we went to the Smithsonian, and just genuinely had a lot of fun educating each other in different subjects we were always into. I was always more math and science-oriented, and she was English in history. At the end of one of the days, we were headed to the metro station to get a train back to our hotel. Now, I'd been on train platforms like this before, having visited my uncle in NYC a couple of times, and since then been stationed in Chicago with their metro system. So I have a pretty good understanding of how trains and stops work. My sister said that she needed to go to the bathroom and to wait for her before I got into the train.

and I told her okay before making my way to the kiosk to reload my card. While I was at the kiosk, I got this feeling that someone was looking at me. That overwhelming feeling of just being watched, and it was uncomfortable. I turned my head a little, and there, standing in the corner, was what I can only assume to be a homeless man based off his appearance, staring right at me, with huge eyes. At first I thought nothing of it, as we had people like this back home in Florida too, and went back to what I was doing. I pulled out my phone and started playing a game or something while I waited.

Before long, my sister came back and we got on our train. We talked for a bit about what time we were getting up the next morning to catch our flight back, since it was later in the day, around noon. When she started to open her mouth, I froze. Standing in the back of the train car staring at both of us was the same man I had seen earlier. I'll never forget his outfit. He had a dirty gray hoodie, matted brown hair, and a face that looked like he suffered from heavy substance abuse. Dingy skin, ragged blue jeans and shoes with holes in them.

I leaned in not breaking eye contact and said, That guy was staring at me earlier, and now he's still watching us on the train. She looked at him and whispered, If he gets off when we do, we'll make a dead sprint to the hotel. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't call the police. But knowing where our hotel was, on the end of town where things started to get sketchier, I don't think it would have made much difference for response time. The train stopped at our station, and we got off.

I didn't see the man following us, so I thought we were fine. It was still about a five-block walk to the hotel, and in a really sketchy part of town. It's not that we were cheapskates, it's just all we could afford in all honesty. As we walked, we continued our previous conversation, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. I turned around, and I saw that man, hidden behind a brick wall peeking out like Kilroy. I froze. my sister turned around and saw him too. When he realized he'd been busted, he stood straight up and gave a big, cracked grin, and just kept staring.

I wanted to challenge him, being 6.3 and 215 pounds at the time, and yell, what the hell do you want? But I remember my previous encounter with someone following me and just froze, barely squeaking out an F-bomb. It was about this time the man started walking towards us. I wasn't frozen anymore. We both started a dead sprint toward the hotel. As terrifying as the situation was already, what happened next still makes every hair on my body stand straight. The man screamed absolute nonsense,

loudly before letting out a joker-esque cackle, chasing after us. I was lagging behind my sister a little, that she could get to safety before me, she was smaller than me and I knew that if I needed to, I could maybe fight this guy. I grabbed my wallet from my pocket and pulled out the room key, since it was one of those hotels where you needed to have a key to access the building. Once we were inside, I realized just how far the guy was away from me.

I played football in high school, and I was still pretty fast, and I had to have about 10 or 15 yards between us, even if I was running slower. We didn't say anything. We just went upstairs to our rooms and made sure it was locked in every way possible. We left super early and took an Uber to the airport. I don't know what it is with people chasing after me, and I still don't know what that dude wanted, but I really don't want to find out. I need to tell you some of my background.

to understand who some of these people are. I, 28, female, moved into my partner, 29 males, house when we got engaged. We'd been together for two years, and we wanted to progress with our relationship further. We're happy, good communication and mutually shared goals. The only person I have friction with in this scenario is his young sister, 21 female, who, I guess, doesn't like me. She doesn't like how I come from a working-class background and thinks that I'm a gold-digger who married up. No matter what I've done, it's never enough for her, and she has tried to sabotage our relationship before,

even going as far as to make fake screenshots to lie that I was cheating with my partner. We had a small celebration at the new house together and invited some close family and friends. It was a lovely night. The next day we met the neighbors, and they seemed nice enough. I came back home from work and saw his sister was there, the last person I wanted to see, but I was friendly. She had this smug smile that made me suspicious. She left in my partner and I were pleased.

He's always been good at sticking up for me, but they are close, and she is his baby sister, so he wants me to at least try to make an effort. Now, I know all that was long, but I needed to explain it. I had a neighbor, male, 52, start knocking on the door and come over to chat with us frequently. He was friendly, retired, and I thought that he just wanted to get to know us. My partner and he developed a friendship. However, the neighbor would come over frequently and start speaking to me too.

I'd humor him and then politely tell him that I was going to call my family. or some other excuse. He then started dropping some more sexualized compliments, that my pants showed off my figure, that he would love to, quote unquote, join us sometime. I told him that we just weren't into that, and he told me that I didn't need to be shy, and that he knew that we were swingers.

Now, I don't care what someone does with other consenting adults, However, that really just is not my thing. I then asked him to leave, now. He waited a moment, but then did finally leave. I wish I had asked him at this point where he got this idea. Instantly, I picked up my phone and called my partner to tell him what happened. He told me that he hadn't said anything to give him that impression either. Either way, he was supportive.

The next part is when my friend is when my friend. my partner and I were having an intimate moment together. I won't go into details, but basically I don't know when it started. We were having a break when I noticed a figure in the window. I screamed and my partner came out of the bathroom to ask what was wrong. I told him that I thought I saw someone outside the window. By the time he went outside to investigate, all he found were the plants were crushed.

The person had left, and, fortunately, we did have security cameras around the property. We looked to see the neighbor sneak through the garden, sit in the garden bed, and look through all while... Well, how do I put this politely? Fondling himself? Jerkin the gurkin? Wrestling the one-eyed trouser snake? I think you get the picture. I instantly felt sick. We didn't see him for a week.

or two. My partner's sister then came over again and I had to smile through it. She seemed shocked when she found out what had happened and laughed about how weird it was. I still didn't put my finger on it at that time.

From then on we made sure the blinds were closed. The next time we saw him, my partner told him that we had him on camera watching us. The neighbor then told us that he thought we were into this and we both shouted no at the same. time. He told us that we enjoyed being watched during the act. My partner demanded to know where

the hell he came up with this idea. He then said that my partner's sister had told him that we were swingers, and always on the look for more playmates, me especially, and that it wouldn't be the first time that I cheated on my fiancé. My partner told him that we were not like that. The neighbor did accept this. He would still look when we walked by, but he kept his distance after that. We then invited his sister over to speak to her to see if it was true. I was furious, and I believed it even without speaking to her. My partner asked if she knew anything about it and kept insisting.

After an hour of conversation, she finally cracked and admitted that she did it. And then she laughed and wouldn't apologize. When he asked her why, she told him that it was for him to break up with me so that he wouldn't have to deal with me anymore. This all happened four years ago, and we still haven't spoken to his sister since then. Hyle, I wanted to see if anyone in the paranormal community has had experiences with a dormant ghost. I haven't heard many stories about this, and I wanted to see if people had their own stories to share.

For context, I've worked in the same office building for over three years now. My co-workers have always talked about a ghost being here. I work in a mental health clinic, and there are only ten of us total, max, usually less due to people who work from home. We are all spiritual people and believe in ghosts. I haven't had my own experience, but others have. I have talked to coworkers who have worked in the building prior to myself, and they reported nothing happening when they were here. The activities started off as very infrequent and inconsistent, like one to two times a year,

and has been increasing to new activity every couple of months. The activity? Well, my knowledge of the ghost started with the closet door, that wouldn't open, even though it was unlocked. My co-workers said it felt like a force on the other end. The door later opened on its own, despite a few of us trying to get it open. There have been other run-of-the-mill stuff, like footsteps, phantom cigarette smells, doors opening and closing, door chimes going off when no one is here, etc.

It's escalated to two apparition sightings in the last few months. Could this be a dormant spirit getting stronger? Maybe a traveling ghost? Update. My co-worker had her leg touched on Friday, and another lady saw a shadow figure at her house, and things that had followed her home since she has never had activity in her house before. I also got info that a co-worker from another department

came to the office and saw a shadow man in the break room. So that makes at least three. apparitions in the last few months. Hello, Raven. I'm sorry, I don't know what to list this as, but it's something that has scared the hell out of me. I've been many odd things happened to me throughout my life, unfortunately,

and I often wish for just a normal existence where I don't see or hear this weird stuff. This very bizarre thing has happened to me three times now, and it's a very scary and unsetable. thing. It's gotten to where I don't want to look in the mirror anymore. I shave by familiarity only. I mean, I don't look at myself when shaving. I'm 72 years old, and I can shave with my eyes closed, because I've done it a lot through the years. I put a towel over the mirror, so I wouldn't have to look at it when I go in there. My wife keeps taking it off, saying that I'm just

imagining this. No, I'm not. I was just shaving one day, and as I looked at my reflection, I stopped cold. My reflection was grinning slightly. I froze just staring at myself. As I looked, I could see the grin relax slightly and then again went back to that weird grin. I wasn't grinning. In fact, my mouth was wide open, not closed like. the reflections was. I think I was in shock or something because I couldn't move. It was hard to turn away and get out of there. I didn't say anything to the wife then, but something else happened again that freaked the crap out of me. I was washing up, and I dropped the bar of soap. I bent down, picked it up, and when I stood up and looked in the mirror, my reflection

was looking back as usual, but the eyes were going back and forth very fast. Only a quarter of an inch, maybe a little less, but they were going back and forth very fast. Then they stopped and blinked once. Now, when you're looking in a mirror and blink, you can't see the image blink because your eyes are closed. Try it. Look in the mirror and blink. No, this was different. I watched the eyes close and then open. I was out of there.

I told my wife what I saw, and she only said that she hoped she never sees that. I don't think she believed a thing I said. The last thing that happened was when I went into the bathroom to get something from the medicine cabinet. I walked past the mirror, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw my reflection go past. I got what I needed, and I headed back past the mirror. I saw something standing there, out of my reflection go past. my peripheral. It wasn't moving like before, and it was red-colored. I know it wasn't me, as I had on a black t-shirt, and I don't own any red shirts at all. I yelled for my wife who came running,

and I told her what I had seen. She looked in the mirror, but only saw herself. I asked her to stay there while I tried something. I went back to the cabinet and did just as before. As I went by the first time, it was just as before. I could see myself out of the corner of my eye in a black t-shirt. As I returned to go back, I went past the mirror, but this time it was normal. And I tried it a couple more times just to be sure. Whatever I saw was red, and just there, unmoving. Hence, I started to cover that mirror. It's gotten to where I don't like looking into any mirror in the house. We have a full-length mirror on the inside of the door for a hall closet, but any more, I'm half afraid to open the damn door to get anything out.

I've heard stories long ago about mirrors being bridges or openings to other realms, but I never really gave it much credence. Now, I'm not so sure, but I think these older people were right. What the hell was I seeing? Was it another me? Was it a different reality? Has anyone else had anything like this happen, or am I just imagining it? Like, my wife wants me to think.

All I know right now is that it is very, very unsettling when it happens. Hey there, friends. I hope that you enjoyed 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 one of the podcast. 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.