As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 123 - Scary Craigslist, Creepy Kids, and Parallel Universe Stories - 13 True Scary Stories

Episode Date: May 10, 2024

Welcome to the chilling 123rd 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 dealings on Craigslist, terrifying encounters with kids, and chilling parallel universe 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... J. Mitchell, Andrew W., Rodney A., NotCraigNewmark, Mrs. Willow, VoiceOfVeronica, Emily, Jay, londonmama2019, ammc87, EmilyKayTV, Open-Strawberry1664 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. This happened a number of years ago, but every time it comes up, I legit get chills down my spine and get sensory overload. Like, all of my senses. I had moved to a new city for a job. My work decided I needed to transfer to a new location. They paid for the move in the first two months of rent, but that was it.

And unfortunately, there were some logistics issues that ended up with me not working for nearly four weeks. This kind of sucked, as not working meant not getting paid. It was confusing. I was supposed to be salary, but... was still paid based on hours worked. It's not really relevant, so I'm not going to try and figure it out in this story. I don't work there anymore, and I would never recommend that company to anyone. I do still live here, and I found a new job since, but again, neither here nor there.

Anyways, not working for those few weeks meant that I had very little money to my name. They paid for rent, sure, but I still needed to do. food, and I wasn't going to sit at home and do nothing for a month. I figured the quickest way to make some cash would be to do some gig work, and I had heard a friend once tell me about all the money he was making, working for people on Craigslist. I went to check it out, and I saw an ad for a guy that was offering $200 cash to help him do some lifting for a few hours that weekend. It seemed like easy money, and I was totally free.

so I sent him a message asking if he still needed the help. He responded pretty much right away, saying that he did, and that since I was the first to respond, if I wanted it, he would send me the details and delete the post, and the job was mine, no questions asked. I agreed, basically said, screw it, let's do this, and he texted me the information. That weekend, when I pulled up,

I was a bit nervous about the whole thing. thing. I'd had the whole week to really think about the fact that I was walking into someone else's house to do work, and they were offering a good chunk of money. Of course, my thoughts went to this being a scam, or worse, bait. And the house itself wasn't very well kept, so that just kept adding to my worst-case scenario thoughts. I figured I would gauge the situation based on who answered the door, get the job done quickly, and get the hell out of Dodge. I knocked on the front door,

and this scraggly old dude in a greasy tank top answered, and I immediately decided that, if he tried anything funny, I could probably take him. I don't know why that's where my mind went, but it was. He asked, Are you here for the moving gig? I nodded, and he led me into the house, without another word.

The place was pretty rank. It had a stench that I couldn't place, and it was definitely heading in the direction of a hoarder's house. He then led me out to the backyard, which was just as bad. Overgrown, littered with garbage and old appliances, in the middle was a huge sofa, ironically covered in one of those plastic dust covers, so it actually looked like it was in good condition. There was other furniture, boxes that looked old, plastic tubs, and just a lot of what looked like trash covered by a large blue tarp.

He pulls the tarp up, and it's more of the same. He then motioned towards the clutter and says, I need you to get all this stuff here and move it into the garage. It's been emptied out, so there's tons of space, but all of this needs to go in there. I walk over and look at the pile, and then over at the pile, and then over at the garage. the garage, which, yeah, was surprisingly emptied out. I shrugged, figured it would go quickly enough, and got to work. I grabbed some of the boxes off the top and move them into the garage.

He kind of dictates where he wants them, explains his organization process. It was a bit strange. He seemed to have a good idea of how he wanted things, but the state of everything in the yard and house made it seem like he struggled with keeping things organized. I spent a couple of hours moving and organizing a few things, doing a bit extra and helping him move some of the furniture and other items that weren't in the pile. Not the plastic-covered couch, though.

He said that it was a nice place to sit and look at the yard. We got near the end of it, and all that was left was a couple of plastic tubs, and another item that looked rather large, which was covered in its own tarp. Yes, a tarp-covered item underneath a tarp. It was odd, but

I figured he just really wanted that to be protected. I grabbed the tarp to pull it off, and he calls out to me to leave it. I look back at him and mention that I don't mind moving it if he needed it moved. He stands up and walks over to me, which was the first time he had done that all afternoon,

and again tells me to go ahead and just leave that. I got a bit curious, And I asked him what it was. He just chuckled, saying noughts to worry about it, and then motion towards the other tubs. He then says that if I can get those taken care of, he'll go get my money and order a pizza for lunch, if I wanted to stay,

saying that he was more than pleased with my work, and that I at least deserved something to eat. I just sort of nodded and said that I appreciated it. He quickly hobbled off into the house, saying that he was going to call in for the pizza and that he'd be back in a few minutes. As soon as he disappears into the house, I decide that I need to know what was under that tarp, thinking it was going to be some sort of weird porn stash or something.

And I wish that it were. I lifted the tarp up, and, to my surprise, there's a damn coffin under this thing. A legitimate coffin, made of a nice shiny mahogany, still in perfect condition. Now, this was weird, sure, but it wasn't too weird. I mean, you can just buy coffins, right? They're not illegal to own.

And while they're expensive, I'm certain you can just go buy one and have it. And then I decided that I wanted to open it, thinking, you know what, I've never seen what the inside of a coffin. It's often looks like. What I didn't expect was that this wooden box would have an occupant. I'm not going to get into details, but yes, there was a body in this coffin.

Yes, it was real, and yes, it was just as disgusting and horrifying as one might think. I shut the lid and covered it all back up immediately. I very quickly turned to finish the rest of the tubs, so that I could get out of their ASAP. When he came back out, he handed me the money and saw that I had finished the rest of the work, and thanked me. I told him that, as much as I wanted to stay for the pizza, my mom had actually texted me saying that she needed me to come over, family emergency and all that. He seemed to buy it, saying that he hoped everything was okay.

I told him that I'm sure it would be fine, just that I needed to go, and quickly, apologized for the timing. He said it was fine, that the pizza was going to get eaten either way, and he thanked me again for my help. I rushed myself out of there as quickly as I could, getting to my car and driving out of that neighborhood and away from that whole situation. When I got home, I struggled to decide if I should call 911 about the whole thing. I honestly didn't know the legalities, but I also didn't know if that body belonged to a loved one or a missing person. So I did end up calling 911, and I have to say that as I explained it, it sounded ridiculous. I told them about why I was there, explained that there was a dead body

in a coffin, and that I was certain that it was real. She assured me that they would check it out. I have no idea if they actually did or what they found, but I know that I haven't set foot in that part of town since then. I learned a lesson. Don't ask questions. Do the job. And ignore the curiosity when it comes to large boxes under tarps. I'm a teacher, and I have been for about 23 years now.

I've taught everywhere from kindergarten to freshman year high school. from teaching such a range of kids they've all had their pros and their cons the older they were the more rebellious they were or the more they talked back but it was also easier to explain things to them younger kids tend to listen better but then you have to keep in mind that they are younger

and less experienced so sometimes you really have to break things down and even explain simple right and wrong scenarios. Overall, I don't think I had a favorite either way. However, the younger kids really did say the weirdest things. Some of them were funny or nonsensical. Others were a bit more alarming.

I wanted to share some of the experiences that I still very clearly remember. This occurred when I taught a kindergarten class. Our normal class routine included reading. time, where, for an hour, I would read a book while they all sat around and listened. They typically got to choose or vote on the book that they wanted, but I had just bought a story pack of six books, so I was reading one from there. I don't remember the exact story. It was one of the short stories in the first book, but there was a talking rabbit that accompanied a young child through a forest after getting lost.

No, it wasn't Hallis and Wonderland, but now that I think of it, maybe it was a rip-off. Anyway, I tried to engage the kids in the story by asking questions or letting them ask questions.

So there were frequent pauses in reading time, which was fine. There was a boy named Aidan, who was always a very curious child. He asked so many questions, and I always think, thought that he was just a smart kid, and his curiosity, if he kept it up as he grew up, would take him far.

But the questions and comments during this reading time were a bit more morbid. He started by asking, does Bunny die in this story? I thought it was a normal question. Some kids may have experienced death in their own pets, maybe even relatives like grandparents. So I told him no. As I always go over stories before I read them to make sure there are no inappropriate topics in them, then he asked if the bunny does die, would it go to heaven? I try to steer clear of religion in class for obvious reasons that I shouldn't have to explain.

So I just told him that it was a great question, but that I didn't know, and then suggested that he asked his parents. He seemed quite satisfied with the response. After the story was over, he asked, Do you have any stories where someone dies? I was taken aback by the question, but just told him no with a raised eyebrow. Reading time finished, and we went back to our normal class curriculum afterwards. Later on, during recess, I saw Aidan sitting in the rocks,

not playing, and he seemed like he was holding his knee. He wasn't crying or looking scared, but I was worried that he had injured himself, so I approached him. I asked him if he was okay or if he was hurt, but I noticed that his knee looked fine, but he looked deep in thought, so I asked him what he was thinking about. I can't wait to see what my bones look like. He said this in such a calm and dreamy, sounding voice, like it was a totally normal thing to say out loud. I tried asking him what he meant or why he wanted to see them,

and he just said something about how he likes to see plain bones, which is why he likes to eat chicken legs. Then he explained that looking at his knee was as close as he could get to seeing his bones. Surely it had to be innocent. Just a curious young kid, right? Either way, I tried my best to explain that he wouldn't see his own bones, because then that would be a bad thing. And I tried to offer some child-friendly skeleton book.

We had a few that went over the structure of the skeleton of humans, as well as some animals. Aidan still said some pretty creepy things like that throughout the year, but thankfully he never took any actions to actually see his bones. Well, at least not in my class. There was another kid in my class named Abigail. It was always Abigail, never Abby. She seemed okay, but just seemed to have issues with making friends.

She was always really standoffish, watching others play. I approached her one time and asked her if she was okay and if she wanted to play with them. She said yes, but that her friend would get mad for leaving him. I smiled and told her that her friend would get mad for leaving him. friend was welcome to play too if they were out there. I began looking around, thinking that this friend must have been nearby, and possibly as equally shy as her. But I didn't see anyone else lingering like she would.

So I asked her where her friend was. She seemed to look past me and said, He's right there. It's the shadow man. I stood up and quickly turned around, but there was nobody there. Before I got to ask again, she looked down at the ground and said, He won't let me play with the other kids. He just tells me to do bad things.

This thing was obviously causing her problems, whether it was her imaginary friend and she had the bad thoughts, blaming it on them, or she actually had someone or something following her around. When it comes to the paranormal, I absolutely believe in it. and I believe that kids seem to be more in-tuned and sensitive to these kinds of things than we are. So I told her that, regardless of who it was, it sounded like a bully,

and that if she didn't want to do what it said, or if it made her feel uncomfortable, then she should just say no. A few days after that event, we had a storm, so recess was inside. We were all playing in the play area in the classroom, and I was at my desk, bouncing between paperwork and watching them. I happened to look up at the right time, and I saw Abigail holding a pair of scissors

to the back of another girl's head. Out of reflexes, I yelled Abigail's name, which startled all of the kids, and the one that was about to get her haircut turned around to look at me and saw Abigail. I ran over to them and told them to continue playing, and then asked Abigail what she was. was doing. Her eyes just looked glossed over, and in her soft little voice she said,

The shadow man told me to do it, or he would take me away to his world, where there's no sun, only darkness. What the hell? So I had a heart to heart with her, and again explained right from wrong and how she shouldn't listen to this shadow man. I ended up writing up a pretty extensive email to her parents about the situation too. They never responded back to me, but I did notice that slowly, Abigail seemed to turn into a pretty lighthearted and playful girl. Maybe their parents knew more about this Shadow Man than what I knew was there. I have one last story that I'll share for now.

There was this boy named Carson, who was in the same class as Abigail, actually. that class was a handful for more reasons than just these two kids. So Carson seemed to be able to tell the future. I know that it sounds ridiculous, but I still have troubles with it myself. Carson would make these random comments, and I just took it as him being dramatic. For example, he made something during art time and told me that it was for his grandma. I thought it was a sweet gesture, but then he said, She's going to fall and break her hip soon.

I obviously didn't hear him correctly, and thought he had just said that she had fallen. But no, he corrected me. I said something, and he clarified. No, it hasn't happened yet, but when it does, I will be ready. Okay, a little weird, but I let it go. No point in arguing with a child. About two days or so later, his mom came and picked him up early because her mom had fallen and had to be taken to the hospital.

She was worried that she wouldn't be home to get him from the bus. Okay, so Grandma did end up breaking her hip. Bizarre, but whatever. But then there were several more times where Carson would seemingly predict the future, and they came true. He mentioned their dog passing away after getting sick. He had seizures, and he died from it. He said his mom was going to get into a car crash. Someone had ran a red lights and teaboned her.

I became nervous talking to him, fearing that he would have a new prediction and that I would be on edge. We had a birthday party for another kid, and while everyone was enjoying their cupcake, I walked around to make sure all the kids were doing okay, needed a napkin, threw away their trash, and so forth. I stopped by Carson's desk, asking for his trash, and saw him trying to wrap up his cupcake.

I asked him what he was doing, if maybe he wasn't hungry, and he shook his head. No, I want to share it with my dad because he's going to die at work tomorrow. That one was pretty intense, as he said it's in a very matter-of-fact tone. I stayed calm and collected, and while they enjoyed the little party, I emailed his mom and told her what he had said. We talked briefly as she picked him up that day about it, and she said that it was definitely strange, and that she had witnessed him saying similar things at home. But she always seemed to brush it off like it was just his imagination.

I tried to match that with her, not wanting her to think the teacher was crazy, but come on. Not once did he predict correctly, but multiple times. I just prayed that one wouldn't come true. And thankfully, throughout the school year, Dad never died. Hopefully that one was just his imagination. When I remember Carson, I often wonder if he still makes predictions like that. So there are a few kids that scared me as a grown adult. I love teaching, and still do today.

but sometimes, kids can unintentionally be pretty unsettling. I just have to remember that they're kids, though. It's not like they're intentionally trying to scare me, right? I have plenty more stories about these things that kids have said are done. I'm fairly new to your channels, so if your audience likes them, I will happily write up some more for you. We'd say that's their dojo. Prere to play a pleasure with

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Rigolet. Publié. Savour. Admire. And profite. Via Rae. The voice we love that we're playing video games in our bedroom on my birthday five nights ago. For probably an hour or so.

He was on our bed playing Xbox. I was on the PC, not even a foot away. When we finally got off the game, we both took our headphones off. and he looks at me saying, Do you want to smoke a bowl? I respond with yes, and joined him on our bed. Around ten seconds after he initially asked to smoke,

he went to grab his phone and I was just looking at him. Then a female-sounding voice, maybe me, clear as day said, Can we take a bowl? I wasn't expecting to hear my own voice, so I still don't know if I'm trying to think it wasn't, but we both heard it.

It was only a few words off from what my boyfriend said, so we first thought maybe a recording, hacker, device relay, Alexa, cops. We truly have been over everything, and it's a dead end every time. It was a completely different sentence altogether, so we got over that option very quickly. My boyfriend had never believed in any type of alternative universe before,

but it's the only logical conclusion. We're both convinced this was a glitch, and in some other timeline, I said that to him instead. It's happened way too many times, me saying that exact phrase, an exact scenario, even in the same tone.

Was this maybe my past best friend visiting me on my birthday, legit wanting to smoke with us? A mimic? A ghost? We both got immediate chills and left the house to my parents. I was hotter than I've ever been in my life the whole night, with sweat beating down my face and was calm as day hours later. I woke up to a horrible dream of me and my boyfriend in our own bed at home, and in the dream I woke up, rushed to the end of the bed, to see a demon figure.

And before I could even react, I was awake. Another thing, maybe related or not. We just moved into this house four months ago. Ever since, I have been feeling so drained. No energy. My mood has been erratic at times. Maybe I'm vulnerable. I'm so lost right now, but trying to stay positive.

I also want to say that, no, we were not just intoxicated or whatever. We didn't even get our bowl because it spooked us so bad. We do have carbon monoxide detectors in every single room in our house. They are on and working and have been thoroughly checked. I appreciate the concerns, but unfortunately that's not our problem. So let me know what you think. Glitch, ghost, mimic, loved one? Any feedback is appreciated.

Edit. Fast forward to two days later. My boyfriend and I have to fly across. the country to visit my family. We tried to put this out of our minds the best we could. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll ever live my life the same. I finally let my guard down and thought to myself, nothing can come with me.

I'm safe. That wasn't until we saw them. My boyfriend points out an older lady. Very witch-like, you know, the kind that you see and just know they have too much knowledge. But right in front of her, I pointed out a man, spitting image of a demon in human form. He had leather and chains, and a cloak slash cape, dressed in black from head to toe, Sampaku eyes, very violent looking.

He's only staring at me, in my eyes. I can literally feel it after I looked away. Not just him, though, witchy too, until they had to physically turn their heads to continue looking into me. Spooky enough, right? Well, just get this freaking mind flip. My boyfriend didn't see the guy. Now, you tell me how in the world he sees this witchy older lady staring at me two feet away from the man in front of her and doesn't see him.

Once we shared our concerns and agreed that that was not normal, I realized I could just be losing my mind, or I'm being watched. The next day we're out to dinner with my family, and I go to use the restroom. I was hesitant because it was scary to me in dark, and I just didn't want to be alone, not even to go. I heard my boyfriend joking with my family about how I was scared. So, of course, I thought he was the one who came up to the bathroom door and said, but he wasn't. The first time back to the house after our trip,

and the garage door opened for us. We rolled out the roommates. They were all upstairs. Electrical problems. Everything's working fine and has been checked. And our garage clicker was in the glove compartment. Impossible for us to have bumped it or accidentally pressed it. As soon as we rolled into the driveway, it started opening.

If that isn't the biggest, come on in. I don't know what is. So, I'm a pretty vivid dreamer, and I can remember most of my dreams. They're like mini-movies, and I've had like two or three nightmares in my 36 years of life that I'm aware of. This is the first dream I've had where I legit died. I'll try not to ramble. Dream takes place in a stereotypical suburban neighborhood with one-story houses, not my current two-story apartment complex.

My next-door neighbor has done something awful, and the neighbor across saw it. The sheriff tried to intimidate her not to testify. I guess he was in on it. I was helping her in her front yard and overheard everything. A detective from the city came by and started talking to me about the incident and the sheriff. At that moment, the sheriff stepped out and the detective's story. started talking to him. As I walked away, I could feel the sheriff staring daggers at me, and I felt someone else

staring at me, but I couldn't see them. So I quickly went back to my house. As I was settling down for a night of working at home on my couch, I don't do this in real life, I decided to close my blinds all the way because of the ominous feeling I had in the street earlier. As I was closing the blinds, I glanced out to scan the streets and then bam.

Something hit me in the forehead, and I was out. Everything went black. As I slowly woke up, it felt like a minute or two, the center of my forehead hurt a lot. I was trying to run through what had happened. Was I standing too close to the window and hit my head?

Did something outside the window and hit it, and it somehow hit me? As I was thinking this, I realized the lamp I had on was off, and I was lying on the air mattress I sometimes used instead of on the floor. Again, not in real life.

Slowly turning my head, eyes half open, I looked towards my window, and I see the orange glow of the street light and a dark silhouette just above me. Before I could focus on what I was seeing, there was another movement,

and a loud band. I jerked my eyes closed. My right ear was ringing. What just happened? Was I just shot? I felt warm liquid pulling under my thigh and butt. My forehead still hurt and my ear was still ringing but nothing else. I didn't feel any pain.

Maybe it wasn't me. I remember feeling the warmth of my dog next to me. Oh my God, did they shoot honor? Or was it me? another shot and I felt my bladder release. It was weird. They just shot me.

Was I murdered? Did someone just murder me? Why? And who? Was it the sheriff? I don't think so. The silhouette wasn't fat enough. But oh my God, I was just murdered. I thought all of this as the blackness

became blacker around the edges and shrank in like the black. screen at the end of Looney Tunes. It's the only way I can think to describe it. And then as it closed, I woke up. I was just murdered. I was very confused for a second. I could still feel the echoes of pain in my forehead and my right ear ringing.

No actual pain or ringing, though, just kind of a sensory memory that had happened. I felt like I had legit died. I did a run-through of my apartments, lights, locks, closets, all the checks. And after that, I started to think, what if I just witnessed the death of a parallel me? I mean, oh my God, it really freaked me out because it felt so real.

And not just the pain, but the atmosphere of, oh, crap, there's something wrong. A seriously wrong atmosphere. Usually if I dream of something, I'm me for like the first few seconds, and then turn into someone else when it gets serious and actiony. But this was the first time that I was me the whole time. Sorry for the long post, I tried to keep it to the relevant bits.

Like I said, I dream in full-on movies, sometimes commercials. So, what do you guys think? Did I just experience the death of a parallel me? I have one Craigslist dealing That was an absolute nightmare for me I've had a lot of them go south But they've mostly just been people showing up and saying Hey, I know I told you 500, but I only brought a hundred dollars and a two hundred dollar gift card to Starbucks

That I swear to God is good and I haven't already loaded it up in my phone They've mostly been that kind of stuff But there was one dealing I had that was bad like scary, bad, for reasons that'll be obvious. This happened in 2019. I was seriously strapped for cash after having been laid off from a certain big box electronics store that had been going under for the last decade.

My location had closed entirely, and all of us were told that we didn't have a job anymore, basically two weeks before it all happened. because of this, I needed to figure out a way to make money quickly, to pay my rent and bills. So I turned to selling things that I owned that had value. During this specific period, I was selling my small guitar collection. I only had four, but they were nice, and they were actually my dads. They had some sentimental value, but I was running out of options.

After doing some research on the guitars, I found that two of them had some actual value, and those were the two that I would sell. After looking them over for any damage and looking up some information on them, I found that they were worth around $800 a piece, and that $1,600 would be enough to keep me afloat for a little while. One guy had messaged me saying that he would offer me $1,000 in cash, if he could come get them that same day, which was crazy to me. I mentioned that I was only asking for 800, a bit wary that this was a scam, but he said that he had a gig the next day, and that he would be leaving town in 12 hours to get there.

He was desperate because his other guitar had been stolen out of his van. That actually all made sense to me. The situation sounded legit, and nothing about what he had said really raised any red flags. He was a desperate musician in a crappy position. We went back and forth a little bit, and at no point did he give me serial killer vibes. So, I agreed to making the sale right then and there. The only thing that I had issues with was his insistence to come and get them from my home. This wasn't something I was willing to do, and I told him as such.

I mentioned that I was willing to sell it to him for his offer, and that I would be happy to do so right away, but that it needed to be in a public location. Nothing against him, but I'd had a bad experience with someone knowing my address that I didn't want to know it, and I wasn't willing to give that information out. After some reluctance, he finally agreed to meet me in a public place. He said that he would go to Big Box Electronic Store parking lot and to meet him there in 20 minutes. The only thing was that this wasn't really a public spot.

He had offered up the big box store that I had just been laid off from, so I knew for a fact the parking lot would be empty. In the end, though, I needed this sale to happen, so I just agreed, figuring that there could be a bit of symbolic irony in selling the tools of the hobby I'd given up to work full time for Big Box store for the last seven years. Plus, it was a well-lit parking lot,

even without people around. I sent him the message, agreeing to the location, and I said that I'd be there by 7 p.m., which was a little less than half an hour. I grabbed the guitar, looked over one more time, put it in the gig case, and placed it in my back seat. I was actually kind of regretting selling it. It was a beautiful guitar, and while I hadn't touched it in close to three years, it was still mine. I then opened my bank account app to get those feelings to go away, and they did. So I went ahead and drove over to the big box store lot, and I waited. I sat parked under one of the lights, and waited, and then the clock rolled around to seven,

and he hadn't yet shown up. I was starting to think that I was getting ghosted, which would have been hilarious to me, but around 705, a black SUV rolled up into the lot, slowly. They crept into a spot a little ways away from me and then very slowly started rolling closer. They ended up parking perpendicular to my car, which was odd, but whatever. It was an empty lot. I took a deep breath and opened my door, offering a slight wave like, Hey, I'm the stranger that you're buying guitars from today.

after a few seconds of awkwardly standing there and them not getting out, their door opened and outjumped this very average-looking guy. I was actually grateful that he was just a random dude, and not some seven-foot-tall muscle monster that could break me in half. He asked if I was the guy selling the guitar, and I said I was, and that it was in the case in the back seat. He asked if he could look it over first, just to make sure that it was in good condition.

I agreed and grabbed the case, placing it on my trunk, opening it and motioning for him to take a look. He pulled it out and looked over it, running his hands along the sunburst paint job, and giving a bit of a whistle, which told me that he knew what he was looking at. He smirked and looked over at me saying, you need to learn how to take better pictures.

Your shots did not do this beauty justice. I laughed, completely letting my guard down, thinking this guy was legit. How else would he have such an appreciation for this old guitar? Well, the true answer was that he was a con, and he just had the charisma. But at that point, I didn't realize that. That came when he mentioned that he was going to go get the cash from his car, and that he was definitely interested. Now, at first, that sounded perfectly reasonable.

but he went over to his car and got in, shutting the door. And though his windows were really dark, it looked like he had grabbed his phone and was talking to someone. After a few moments, I was starting to feel a bit uneasy. Something just felt off. I took a few steps toward my driver's side door and opened it, reaching in and starting the car. That may sound strange, but it was an almost instinctive.

thing. Like, something told me I needed to do it. And I'm glad that I did. I stood back up just in time for this guy to hop out of his SUV. He stared at me for a moment and nodded, motioning for me to walk over to him. I took one step toward the back where the guitar was, and after a second of us just standing there, he took a couple of steps forward, and then reached behind him. I immediately knew what was about to happen, and I took a quick step back towards the driver's seat. As soon as I saw the gun in his hand, I jumped in, threw it and drive, and gunned it. I heard the popping of the handgun going off a couple of times as I drove, but thankfully he didn't hit anything. Of course, it was at this point that I realized I had left the guitar case on my trunk, open. and I watched as it flew off my car and hit the ground, shattering into a few pieces. In the end, I had to let it go, if I wanted to get out of there unscathed. So, I just swore under my breath and kept on going.

I kept looking back at the destroyed guitar and this guy standing at his SUV looking like he was seriously mad at what had just happened, and just thinking that I barely made it out of there alive. I ended up stopping at a McDonald's, about a mile down the road, and frantically calling 911 with my hands trembling. I tried my best to give the cops a coherent statement. They took my information and the description of the guy and the SUV. I also gave them the information from Craigslist, but I didn't think that would get them any closer. I had escaped this situation alive and unharmed, and out a very valuable guitar, all because, I had let my guard down.

I guess the only justice is that no one got the guitar in the end. There was no way that he could have salvaged it with how it hit and broke. So, he had done all this for nothing. I ended up selling the guitars to a pawn

shop that gave me a decent price, and things have gotten better in my life since. But I can firmly say that I have never used Craigslist for anything ever again. I've always been really good with kids. I'm the oldest of eight siblings,

and now have five nephews and four nieces. It seemed to always just come naturally to me, to be a shoe-in parent when I babysat, or just watched my siblings, or being the cool aunt that they all trusted. At the time of this event, I was around 26, single and living in my house by myself. well, other than my two cats.

My neighborhood had a lot of families in it that had one to three kids in each. They were all pretty nice and honestly, fairly well-behaved kids. When they would ride their bikes while I was out in my yard, they would wave and say hi. Sometimes they would be doing donations or fundraisers for their schools, and I would participate. It was, honestly, a pretty, peaceful neighborhood, and I loved it. But then there was a family that moved in that kind of disrupted that peaceful life for me. I had found out that it was a mom and a dad and their son that all called Tommy.

They had all moved into the dad's parents' house, apparently his childhood home. I don't know if it was to help to take care of his mom, or if maybe something happened to them and they lost their house. I didn't talk much to the parents. They also lived a few houses down, so I didn't really have an opportunity to do so. But Tommy, I definitely had multiple run-ins with him, and I wish that I hadn't. Tommy was probably around 11 or 12, I believe. He started out as just another normal kid on the block. I saw him playing with some of the other kids, riding bikes, and riding bikes, and

such, so I paid no extra attention to it. But then there was one day that I was out front, mowing my little yard. I started getting that feeling that I was being watched. I stopped the mower and looked around and just saw Tommy standing at the edge of my driveway. He was just staring at me, watching intently. I smiled and waved at him, but he didn't wave back. It was weird, and I tried to shrug it off and continue mowing, but I could sense that he was still watching me.

From that day on, I started to sense that there was something about him that just did not sit right with me. A few days after the mowing event, I was sitting on my porch swing, reading and enjoying my coffee. It was one of my favorite things to do when I had nothing to do. My front yard wasn't fenced in, so it was normal for people or kids to walk over or sometimes even pets that cut out or strays. I pretty much welcomed all of it. It was a safe neighborhood who wouldn't want to pet a new cat or dog. The swing was on the left side of my porch, and my driveway was on the right, so I didn't see someone walking up at first until I heard a kid shout. What are you reading?

I looked up, startled, and saw Tommy standing near my porch steps, holding a small knife, with his head tilted and eyes locked on me. I told him the name of the book and he asked what it was about, so I explained it briefly. Yes, I'm a sucker for romance books and spooky YouTube stories. So I was joking around and I said something like, It's a romance about two people falling in love. thinking he would be like gross or something. I kind of got that response, but a lot more intense.

That sounds boring. You should read a book about a serial killer. I do like thriller books, too, but why be so specific? About a serial killer? I asked him why, and he just said they're cool and more interesting. Wanting to change the subject, I asked him why he had a pocket knife on him. He shrugged and then held up the next. knife like he was studying it.

I don't know, in case I need to stab something. I know I had to have a concerned look on my face. My brother and I found a knife in the dirt one day when we were younger, and after looking it over and me almost cutting my finger trying to close it, I brought it to my mom. I was always scared of me or my siblings getting hurt, so I tried my best to prevent it where I could. so when he just nonchalantly said in case he needed to stab something,

it kind of bothered me. I tried asking what he would need to stab and where he got it from, but he said he didn't know and that he just found it. Maybe he could sense that I was ready to take it from him or something, because he quickly turned back around and walked off without saying anything else. I knew it was dangerous for him to have that knife, but I felt like I had no place to tell his parents it wasn't okay, so I never did. I wasn't a friend, family, or even a teacher, so I just kept it to myself.

From then on, I seemed to see Tommy everywhere. Yeah, it was normal to see kids in the neighborhood, but it was more than that. I would leave and see Tommy standing at the edge of my driveway. I would be coming home and he would be sitting on the road. rock hill across the street, like he was waiting for me to get home. I would even go out for a jog and I would see him, standing nearby, just watching. He was a small child, so why did it feel like I was prey being stalked? There were a few more major incidents with Tommy that really freaked me out.

The next one happened one Sunday evening. Our trash collectors came every Monday morning, so I have. had to take my bins out. Later that night, I forgot to empty my recycling bin, and groaned that I had to walk to the end of the driveway with it, but I bucked up and took it out.

As I started walking it out, I noticed my trash bin was knocked over, and I heard some soft shuffling. I had never had issues with my bins before, but I knew that we had a few raccoons in the area, so I was nervous

at first to get any closer. but then I saw Tommy pop up from it. His eyes were wide, like he'd been startled too, but everything else about him seemed calm. I asked him a little more sternly because why wouldn't I be angry or curious? Tommy, what are you doing? He again shrugged and said, I like your stuff. It's cool. He then held up an empty soda can and said,

can I keep this? I was so creeped out and confused that I just nodded. He smiled and shoved the can in his pocket and walked away. I went back in my house thinking, What the hell was that? What did he mean I had cool stuff? Why was he going through my trash? Why was he out so late and how many times had he done this before?

He didn't make a mess, at least, but still going. Going through someone else's trash was weird and potentially dangerous. He didn't know what I had in there. Still, not comfortable with telling his parents, I decided to make a post on the next door app. I just mentioned something about how someone had been going through my trash and that it was definitely a person, a kid at that. But I couldn't tell who it was.

Unfortunately, no one said that they were having a similar experience, but that they would keep an eye out. So Tommy seemed to be singling me out specifically. This made it even weirder for me. What was he hoping to find in my trash? It definitely creeped me out, but he was still a kid. Maybe he was just an oddball. I grew up with some myself, and I'm sure some thought I was one too.

I didn't go through other people's trash, but regardless, I thought I could just deal with it, seeing him occasionally, until he got older and grew out of it. But, of course, it wouldn't be that easy. One of the creepiest experiences happened one night when I was sitting at home, enjoying my night off. After having dinner, I took a shower and went straight to my room wrapped in a towel to grab my pajamas. As I started getting dressed, I heard a tapping sound on my window. I had dark purple curtains drawn so I couldn't see out, but I knew we were expecting a pretty crazy storm that night. I assumed it was the rain or maybe even hail hitting it, so I ignored it.

After I was dressed, I went to put on my slippers as I was planning on lounging in the living room for a while, when I heard the tapping sound again. This time it was a little louder, and also too patterned for me to ignore. I went to the window and slowly pulled the curtains apart when I nearly had a heart attack. There was Tommy. His face pressed against my window, smiling and waving wildly. I screamed, What the hell, Tommy? Go home! I don't know if he could hear me, but I was scared and angry.

Why was he trying to look into my window? Not to mention, it made sense then that he was knocking. on the window. So he was probably trying to get my attention, and not just trying to peep. But why? After I said this, I closed my windows and ran to my backyard. The window was on the side of the house, but it was easier to get to from the back. I ran outside, still in my slippers. Thankfully, it wasn't raining yet, and I saw him slowly walking back to the front. He wasn't running. He wasn't running. He didn't look scared or like he was caught either. Just kind of browsing. I know that I was scared and upset, so I should have calmed down. He was still a kid after all, but I plainly asked him,

Tommy, why are you in my yard? You need to go home before I tell your parents. He just looked at me and shrugged. I don't know. I'm just like watching you. I told him to go home and I watched him walk out of my yard and up the street. I will remind you that it was dark out. It was about to storm. He didn't ride his bike, based on how he kept walking up the street, and he lived a few houses down. Why did his parents not seem to care about his whereabouts? I was frustrated, but also part of me was concerned for him.

So I even walked to the end of my driveway to make sure that he got home safely. I could just barely see him enter, but I did see him walk up to the porch patio. It was kind of hard to sleep that night, wondering if he would come back. So I slept in the living room. The next day I contemplated what to do. I didn't want to call the police. He was still young and I'm not the type to think that being arrested and traumatizing a child, nonetheless, was a solution.

So I told myself it was time to call him. to tell his parents. Something needed to be done, and it should probably start at home. So, I got out to my car earlier than I usually do for work, and I drove over to Tommy's house. His mom answered, and I immediately, and politely, explained what had happened. I explained the knife that he had. I mentioned him watching me and seemingly following me.

I also mentioned how he was trying to look through my window. I would not have expected her response. She didn't look surprised whatsoever. She didn't look shocked or embarrassed. She didn't even apologize for his actions. I know that I wasn't a parent, but I think if a stranger or neighbor approached me and told me the same thing about my kid, I would be concerned about his actions. Instead, she shrugged and said,

Yeah, well, you know, boys will be boys. He's at that age where he's really curious about girls. Then, she had the audacity to ask me if I was undressing with the windows open. It was my own house. Why do I need to watch what I'm doing in my own home? I didn't want to start a fight with this woman, so I just said that he needed to stay out of my yard, or else I would have to call the police. She literally rolled her eyes at me and said that she would talk to him about it,

and then practically shut the door in my face. I left their house feeling like nothing was accomplished. I didn't know what else to do. I just hoped that even if she didn't take what I said seriously, that she would at least tell him to stay out of my yard. And it seems like that was the only thing that happened. I still saw him watching me when I went out for a jog. I saw him across the street.

He was everywhere, but he didn't. did stay out of my yard. It was still unnerving. Why was this kid watching me? Why was I the target? I wish I could say there was a better ending to this story, but there wasn't. I just lived with this. I didn't know if he was finally talked to or if he grew bored, but he did slowly stop.

Or at least, was less noticeable. I still live in the same house and his family moved out about a year ago. I don't know what happened or why, but I'm honestly thankful they moved. I hope that if this was a phase, that Tommy did just grow out of it, and that his parents were more involved and talked to him about how that was unacceptable. Otherwise, the neighborhood is still great, and I think I'll stick around. I will let you know if I get any more weird neighbors, though. Several years ago, I had an older Honda Civic that I had an older Honda Civic that I had

I was needing to get rid of. It was fairly old, but it had surprisingly little mileage on it for its age, and I had taken great care of it. The only damage was a small ding on the rear passenger side door where some jerk hit it with a cart. I loved it, even though I didn't get to drive it as much as I'd liked, but I no longer had a need for it, and I didn't want such a nice little car to rest away in my driveway. Because it was in such good condition, I decided to list it for $1,200, but was willing to be talked down to a thousand if it didn't sell in a week or so.

I could have asked for more, but again, I was more interested in getting this thing to a new owner that would actually drive it. The ad had only been up on Craigslist for a couple of hours when I started getting a flurry of responses in my inbox. the usual lowballs and dummies asking if I could drive it to Manitoba. I live in Missouri. That kind of nonsense. But then I clicked on one of the responses that kind of stood out. Mostly because it was oddly aggressive. I'll give you $400 for that POS.

You should count yourself lucky that I'm even willing to offer that. I decided to respond to him, mentioning that the asking price was $1,200. and that I was pretty confident I could get it with the condition of the car. He responded again, saying, You're a dumbass if you think you'll get a grand out of that fog machine. Take the 400 and stop being a greedy prick. I was taken aback.

How many times had being a jerk like this worked for him? I had to tell him in no uncertain terms that I was not going to take that much. So he needed to either make an actual reasonable offer or get lost. I figured if he was going to be rude, that I could be rude right back, right? Honestly, he was kind of getting on my nerves with his aggression and persistence. He then told me to go F myself, that I would be sorry for not taking his money. I told him to have a nice day and that I was done with it, thinking he was done, and that this was the end of the conversation. The next morning I got up and was going through my normal weekend routine, drinking coffee,

and checking my emails. I was clicking through the responses that I had gotten later in the previous night and was just about to message someone back that had offered 1100, when I glanced out the window to look at the Civic. I swear my timing was divine intervention to some extent, because I looked up at the exact moment to see some guy holding a gas can, standing over my car, and throwing a match on it. I rushed out the door as quickly as I could,

grabbed the garden hose and tried it as best as I could to put out the flames, which were now engulfing the car. It was no use, obviously. The whole thing was fully taken over by fire. Thick black smoke was billowing up into the air like a signal to the world that the car was no longer for sale. My neighbors all started pouring out in a panic, just in time to hear the guy at the end of my driveway screaming.

There! Now you'll never sell that job. junker for 1200, you greedy a-hole. Should have just taken the 400. It didn't click until that moment, for whatever reason, that the person destroying my car was the same jerk from Craigslist. I have no idea how he figured out where I lived, other than I had pictures of the car on the ad, and maybe one of them showed the numbers on my house.

Neither way, the man was there burning the car, screaming at me like a madman and taking off down the street, on foot. Fire trucks and police started arriving within minutes, and I was just left standing there watching it burn as they tried to put it out. While I was giving the statement to one of the officers, another walked over holding my gas can that I'd left sitting by the garage, mentioning that it was likely what was used as an accelerant.

If I had to guess, I'd say that he was planning on destroying the car, but that the gas container offered him a... a quicker way to do it over just causing damage. His plan was probably to just damage it, and I had accidentally given him the opportunity to completely destroy it. For a few weeks after everything, I kept expecting this guy to message me with a threat, or just to gloat that he had won.

But he never did. I had given all the information to the cops. I just hated the fact that he practically ran by them without them even noticing him on that day. because he would have been easy to catch at that point, but because I was pretty much paralyzed in watching my car burn, I hadn't said anything at the time. I never got a call from the cops about finding him,

about having a lead or anything, so I had to just accept that it was a loss. They probably just chalked it up to the dangers of dealing with crazy people online. In the end, I suppose I was lucky that my car was the only thing the psycho torched in his misguided and twisted revenge over, I guess, me saying no to his way too low offer. I have to say that I'm lucky because it's clear this guy was not all there, and I had technically given him the opportunity to burn my damn house down.

I will never forget that sinking feeling that hit me as I watched my car go up in flames, all because I told this guy no. part of me almost feels bad for him that his life is so small and pathetic that he'd go to such disturbing lengths over such an insignificant thing while another part of me knows the world is full of ticking time bomb lunatics

who just cruise around looking for something as small as a Craigslist argument or conflicted interaction to completely set them off Hi friends I tried to post this in the glitch in the Matrix subreddit but it got flagged by the mods, so I'm going to try here. It was probably 2018 or so.

I'm in my mid-20s. I was living in a house with roommates at the time, and everything was normal. The house didn't even have creepy vibes or anything. There was no party happening, no drugs or alcohol, just normal. Beside my bed is a little table where I charge my phone and have my lamp. important details anyway it was creeping up toward midnight

so I decided to turn in for the night I get in bed plug my phone in turn off my lamp and close my eyes just like I always do the next thing I know my lamp is on I'm sitting up in bed

my phone is plugged in and I'm pressing the side button to turn it off I place it on my bedside table and then my consciousness return to me. I'm like, wait, didn't I just do this and get in bed? What the hell? I glanced at my phone that I just put down, and it's 12.15 a.m. approximately 15 to 20 minutes after I knew that I went to sleep the first time. My mind starts racing and I feel anxiety bubble up, and then I look at my phone, and no lie, it starts ringing. No caller ID. 1215 a.m.

on some random night. Like, this does not happen to me. I'm in too much shock to answer and am low-key freaking out. I watch it ring and eventually stop. No, voicemail. A no-call or ID phone call in the middle of the night after I just lost 15 to 20 minutes. No joke. I dead-ass go to the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror to check for any marks or bruises or scratches that weren't there before.

but everything is normal. I go back to my room to everything still being normal. Eventually my nerves settle, and I fall asleep. And that's where my story has a decidedly unsatisfying end. Nothing happened the next day. There were no lasting ramifications or weird changes after that. Nata. But, man, if I could go back and choose to answer that call,

I wonder what would have happened? Who would have been on the other end? And did they have answers to what had just happened to me? It feels too coincidental to not be related. Does anyone know of this sort of thing? Has anything similar happened to you? I'm honestly trying to get some insight here. Thanks.

I have a story about an event that I attended that was posted on Craigslist of all places. which, I guess, should have been the biggest red flag about all of it. I was actually reminded of this by my wife because of the whole Willy Wonka thing that recently happened in, I think, Glasgow. We experienced something that was actually somewhat similar, but it didn't make the news or anything. I think we all just wanted to forget that it happened afterwards.

I was perusing Craigslist, trying to find something that I, don't even recall anymore, when I saw an event post for a neighborhood Easter extravaganza. I was curious, and I figured there was no harm in checking it out, since the wife and I didn't really have any plans for Easter for our two kiddos. The first thing I did was Google the address to see how close it was, and was surprised when it was only about 10 or so miles away, which made it reasonable for us to go if we decided to. I remember the description was pretty basic.

It just said that the extravaganza would be that Sunday, on Easter, from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. That it would be fun for the whole family, and that they would have the biggest Easter egg hunt in town, with over 5,000 eggs to find. Each of them stuffed with different prizes, candy, cash, and other goodies. They also claimed that they would have a magic show performed by the Easter Bunny Hes. himself, which I thought would be pretty fun as our girls were five and three at the time. So they would probably think that was great. Now, at the time, I was pretty well psyched, thinking that this would be a good time for the kids, and that we could enjoy the day together, making some memories.

Looking back, it was definitely too good to be true. And I should have realized that when I found it on Craigslist, and not something like Facebook or whatever. But then I thought maybe they were just advertising it anywhere they could. Maybe it was on Facebook. And they had also posted it on Craigslist so it could reach more people. I talked it over with the wife, and after a bit of discussion and comments, like, I don't know, are you sure it's legit? We decided that we would, at the very least, drive by and see if it was worth the time.

When we arrived at the address, we parked in the lot and had to walk up to the location, and it was pretty clear that someone's expectations outstripped reality. The festivities were contained to one random yard, and attendance was, let's just say, almost non-existent. There were a few parents there with some antsy kids, and I could tell all of the adults had the same thought, thinking, what the hell were we doing there? There were a few streamers hanging from the trees, and the only real decoration was a hand-painted sign that said, Happy Eatser.

Yes, they misspelled Easter on the sign. And it kind of looked like it was painted and dried mustard. There weren't any tables with food for the adults, like the ad had mentioned, and there was literally a single Easter basket with a couple dozen eggs in it. complete with the big prizes of a single Hershey kiss and a quarter. I know that it doesn't take much to make the kids excited, and both of my girls were super happy to have that 25 cents, so I guess kudos to them for that.

After a couple of minutes of thinking that we were all going to have our organs harvested, and laughing about this whole thing with another couple, one of the self-proclaimed organizers hollered, Hey everyone, it's time for the Easter Bunny Magic Show. He seemed enthusiastic about it, so I thought that maybe, just maybe. This would actually make the time worth it. The whole thing was clearly the definition of over-promise, under-deliver. But I figured that the girls would get to enjoy the fun of a man in a bunny fur suit,

performing some silly tricks. Then, this absolutely hammered dude dressed as the Easter Bunny stumbles out with his fur head lopsided and the pants sagging slightly on one side. He sways back and forth a bit and puts his hands up yelling, Happy Easter everyone! And then fumbles around on a small table for his props. His first trick was what I think was supposed to be a car.

card trick. But he struggled with the deck in his big fluffy hands, and he ended up dropping all the cards on the ground. He struggled with trying to pick them up for a second, but clearly couldn't maintain his balance, and then gave up after a moment or two. He then said, Sada! Like him dropping the cards was the trick. He then turned back around to his box on the table and pulled out, I kid you not, a bottle of Jack Daniels, and proclaimed, Next, I will make this whiskey disappear. Then, he attempted to drink it with the bunny suit on, which made him miss his mouth and pour half of it all over the suit.

This must have been the last straw for the guy, because he let out this strange, guttural grunting sound, and then fell flat on his side. you could hear a pin drop in that moment. All the kids were staring wide-eyed, about to burst into tears. Us adults were all watching this train wreck with bated breaths, waiting for Ashton Coochard to pop out and tell us that we'd been punked. My oldest daughter looked up at me and said,

Is the Easter Bunny dead? And I just had to look at her and shake my head slightly, not sure if I was lying or not. After a couple more moments, the organizer ran up and shouted, Hey, show's over. Everyone, please, back up a little bit. And then the other one shouted, I'm calling 911. My wife and I just kind of stared at each other.

Eyes still wide, completely in shock. All of us funneled out into the parking lot area and sort of just talked a bit as we watched an ambulance pull up with the lights and sirens on. and the paramedics rush in to save the bunny man. We ended up leaving before they wheeled him out. The last thing I wanted was for my little girls to see the Easter Bunny wheeled out on a stretcher, or worse, possibly in a body bag. I don't think the guy was dead, but I honestly can't say for sure.

We ended up just going to a restaurant for a brunch buffet that was actually pretty good, and decently priced, so... I guess silver linings and all that. The whole day was, for lack of a better word, a mess. It was awful, and part of me feels bad for the people that put it all together. I feel like they wanted to make something magical, but on a budget of $20 and an owed favor, if that makes sense. Thankfully, my girls don't remember the day,

other than my oldest does seem to have a memory of thinking that the Easter Bunny was dead. In the end, it may not have been the day that I wanted it to be for all of us, but it was definitely the most memorable, Eitzer celebration that I've ever been to. My experience isn't as exciting as some of these others, but I thought I would share it anyway. I had taken my six-year-old daughter for a walk to the playground, and we had just moved houses, so I didn't know the area very well.

I checked my Apple Maps to see if there was a quicker way home as my little one was starting to complain a bit. The quickest way was through a graveyard. We started walking, and the birds were singing. It was quite sunny, perfectly normal. As we walked further through, the atmosphere just changed. It's really hard to explain, but it felt completely flat. No birds, no people,

just a really oppressive feeling. We also noticed that some things looked not quite right, like gravestones facing in different directions. I've never seen this before, and it was bizarre. Some were in rows, some sideways, and some facing the opposite direction, and there was a huge pile of dirt against the side of the little church. I didn't want to scare my daughter, so I kept chatting.

Then she seemed to notice it too, and said, This is horrible. I don't like it here. I checked my map, and it had gone crazy and was directing us the opposite way, and kept changing and moving around. I followed the path around, and as the main street came into view, everything seemed to go back to normal. Birds, people, traffic sounds, even the sun seemed to get brighter.

When we got home, we talked about it and told my husband. My daughter called it the creepy graveyard. The following week, we went back to show my husband, but it was like a different place. No weird vibes at all. It was very peaceful but completely normal and we couldn't find the gravestones facing different ways. I read a book last week about time slips, and the way it felt was described by a few people who had experienced time slips. So I'm now wondering if this could be what happens to us.

I hope that this is relevant to this sub. I just found you all, and I relate to a lot of these stories, so I wanted to share my own. If soulmates are real, I wholeheartedly believe that my dog, Jake, is one of my soulmates. From the moment that I met him, something told me that we have been to together in many past lives, and we should be together in this one. Jake was one of 12 puppies that my aunt's dog Maya gave birth to. They live out in the country, so their dogs kind of just wander, and one day Maya showed up

pregnant. I was having a sleepover with my cousins, and I got to meet all of the puppies. They were so tiny that they literally fit in the palm of your hand. I remember immediately really liking Jake because he was one of the only male puppies to be brown. Other than that, all the brown ones were girls and all the black ones were boys. My aunt was trying to find homes for these puppies,

but I already knew that my parents didn't want to have more than one dog. We had a German shepherd at the time, so I didn't even ask. A few months passed, and I eventually had another sleepover, my cousins. At this point the puppies had grown up. I believe they were about seven weeks old, so still little, but definitely puppies. There were only about five puppies left, so I was really excited to see that Jake was still there, but again, I knew my mom and dad didn't want another dog, so I had no intention of taking him home that day. Jake, however, had other plans. The whole two

days that I spent with my cousins, Jake followed me everywhere. He even jumped into the pool after I did, and I knew that I had to at least ask. When I looked into Jake's eyes, I feel like he was telling me that I was meant to be his human. Well, my mom pulls up to pick me up, and I'm standing in the driveway holding a puppy next to all of my cousins with a huge grin on my face. She could immediately tell that I was about to ask her something. As soon as I started explaining, all of my cousins joined in and said that I needed to take Jake with me. My mom was reluctant, but she said that she would give me a two-week trial to prove that I would take care of this dog all by myself. I believe I was 11 years old at this point. If two weeks go by and I don't

prove that I'm responsible enough, then we would bring the dog right back. I spent the rest of my summer sleeping on the couch in the living room next to Jake in his crate, so that I could wake up whenever he started whining to go to the bathroom outside. During the day, I spent all my time training him and taking care of him. Needless to say, I passed the two-week trial, and for 14 years, I spent almost every waking moment with Jake attached at my hip. When I would leave the house for sleepovers or Girl Scout camp, he would spend most of his time sitting by the door waiting for me to get back. In 2017, I moved out of my parents' house,

and unfortunately I could not take Jake with me. We didn't have room for him, and he also had a younger dog sibling at this point who adored him, so I didn't want to separate them. However, I only moved 30 minutes away, so I often would have playdates with Jake or take him to the dog salon for a spa day. My biggest fear, though, was him passing away while I was not near him. One day, in October of 2021, I'm having another play date with Jake. But in my mind, I knew something was different.

Jake was pretty old at this point, had had two ACL surgeries, and was relatively slow moving, so our playdates were usually just us chilling on the couch together while I scrolled on my phone or something. But the whole time, my brain is just telling me over and over again that I needed to give Jake every ounce of my attention. I put my phone down and just laid next to him and pet him. He didn't seem any different than how he usually was. He was just happy and chill. I spent the whole day with him. His younger dog sibling was even at doggy daycare,

so it was literally just me and Jake at my parents' house. I also took tons of photos of him and with him that day. Night came, and my parents came home from work. I saw Jake stumbling into the living room where his dog bed is, and immediately noticed that something was off. I was supposed to head home, but, Everything in me was telling me to stay. About 30 minutes later, it really became apparent that Jake was in his final moments of his life.

His head was in my lap, and my mom, dad, younger brother, and my partner were all there with him. His little sister was also right there, coming over to sniff Jake every now and then. I just kept petting him until he took his final breath in my arms. I don't know what it is that made me aware of this day being Jake's final day on earth, but I'm really glad that I tuned into whatever it was. Maybe it was even Jake who decided when he would leave this life, and he waited until I was with him. Who knows?

Jake was my best friend in this life, and I know that I will see him in the next. I've been babysitting since I was allowed to be home alone. I babysat my own siblings, and when my mind understood that I could continue to do what I normally do, with some authority and get paid for it, I offered to babysit any chance that I could. Maybe it was being around so many kids, but it also made me realize how much I loved kids,

and how well I can work with them. It's actually the reason I went to college for children's psychology. While I went to school, I continued to babysit, house sit, or pet sit wherever I could. It was basically my job. I was lucky enough that my parents helped me buy an apartment, so I could focus on schooling and continue doing what I loved. However, there were some sitting jobs that I would end up quitting,

or had quite the lasting memories of, good and bad. Cessaly was one of those unforgettable jobs. Cecily was an eight-year-old girl. Her parents found me on a babysitting website. I had listed myself and had tons of reviews, so it was normal for people to find me that way. Cecily's mom was a full-time caretaker. She basically took care of those in hospice, but from their home.

So she couldn't take Cecily with her, understandably. And Dad was a police officer. definitely not the place for her either. They needed someone to watch her on days that daycare didn't align with mom's schedule. Dad was practically always on call so he couldn't watch her alone. So they had two days they specifically needed me to watch her and asked if I could watch her in an emergency, promising they would pay double. I agreed. It was simple enough, and I only had one other set schedule at the time.

They understood that I may not always be available for emergencies, but if I was, the double pay would be nice. My first day was pretty simple, a quick tour of the home, introducing me to Cecily and some awkwardness when you first get to know a new child. Unlike some kids, Cecily was very outgoing, and it didn't take long for her to open up to me. She immediately wanted to show me all of her toys. and play with me. She wanted to make all these plans with me, and it was really sweet. She wasn't only child, so I think she just really enjoyed the company and attention.

This was how the first few weeks went with me watching her. She showed me all the new things that she got or made in daycare, and we'd play for a little while. I would go into the living room and watch some TV while I did schoolwork, if I had any, and then I would make dinner, we would eat, and she would either sit in the living room with me, sometimes we'd watch a movie, or she would go play in her bedroom. Her parents said that she had what they called a settled downtime, which was right after dinner. She could play or do what she wanted, as long as it was calm and quiet.

It was their way of getting her ready for bed, I believe. One evening, I was in the living room and Cecily had gone to her room. room to play some more. Her room was the first one off the living room, so with her door open, you could hear her talking. So when she first started having a conversation, I assumed she was just playing with her dolls or stuffed animals. Really, no big deal. But usually when kids play pretend like that, you hear both sides the conversation.

In this case, I was only hearing one side. I would hear her say things like Purple, what's yours? Oh, mine too. Did you also like cats? I used to, but I can't anymore. It was like there was legitimately one side of a conversation missing. I knew that she didn't have a phone because they didn't have a landline,

and she didn't have her own cell phone either. So, the next guess, was an imaginary friend. I had encountered quite a few people. kids like that too, so no big deal. Later that night, I was helping her get ready for bed, and she mentioned how she had a night light, because both she and her friend were afraid of the dark. I asked her what friend, just making conversation, and she said the one that stays the night with me.

Okay, so she did have an imaginary friend. I got her into bed, and the rest of the night went by with no incident. It was probably a week or something. two later, when the freakiest part happened. Once again, I was getting her to bed, and when I turned around to pick up one of her toys in the floor, she started laughing. I put the toy away, and when I turned back to her, I asked her in a playful tone. What's so funny, Cecily? My friend, she keeps making me laugh. I asked her what her friend was saying to make her laugh. No, she's moving her neck and making funny faces. She said giggling. Her neck? What's funny about someone moving their neck? Or rather,

how can someone move their neck in a funny manner? So, I asked her, what do you mean her neck? How is she moving her neck? Cessaly giggled again. She has a giraffe neck. It's all wiggly and her tongue is blue. And mine looks that after eating candy. A giraffe neck? What does that even mean? I just told her that that does sound funny and tucked her in. I shut the door, leaving it cracked open some and went back to the living room. Usually the imaginary friends are described like the child themselves. I had never heard a child describe them like something as wild as that before.

While I sat in the living room, the thought of the giraffe-neck friend was circling my head. so I went to text my friend about it. She was actually one of my former teachers and was around 12 years older than me. She reminded me that some kids are more sensitive to things that we cannot see, and maybe this wasn't an imaginary friend. Maybe it was a ghost. I hadn't even thought of that at first because I was skeptical.

I feel like ghosts or spirits probably exist, something about energy not being to be. destroyed, maybe, but I had never had any true experiences myself. Not to mention I feel like all of those Ghost Hunter shows on TV are staged, and really ruin the true experiences, if they do exist. But Cecily's description of the friend just seemed too unique and specific. That same week, when I watched her, she gave me a picture that she drew. She told me it was a picture of the three of us.

myself, Cecily, and her friend. She said that she wanted to show me just how silly she looked. But what I saw made me feel like I was in some kind of scary movie. There were two normal-looking people, one by a bed and one standing by the door. And then there was a third person standing to my right. But that person was terrifying. They had a long neck that was drooping over, Think like a droopy stem on a dying flower.

Their eyes appeared closed, and their mouth was frowning with their tongue sticking out. The mouth and the tongue were blue. To be blunt, it looked like someone who was suffocating or dead. That's when the neck thing started to make sense to me. This person looked like they had been hung. I tried to ask Cecily more about them, if she knew their name, or if she knew anything. else, but she didn't.

She said that she called her flower because her dress looked like a flower, but then everything else she told me was the normal thing she'd hear a kid tell you about their friend. Her favorite color, favorite animal, what she liked to do and so forth. Cecily was not afraid or concerned about flower at all. She just said that she looked funny, but that she was a good friend.

I didn't know what her parents believed, and I was not about to bring it up if they didn't and make myself look crazy. As long as she wasn't having problems, I figured I should just let it go. And that's what I did. I continued to watch Cecily for months after this. She rarely brought up flower unless I mentioned her, which was rare. But knowing that she potentially had a ghost friend was pretty freaky to me. Cecily's mom's shift changed, so I was no longer needed after some time, and we never had any troubles throughout my time with them.

But now, all this time after, Cecily and her dead friend, live rent-free in my head. Hopefully she was at least a good influence, and hopefully Cecily was able to bring her some peace. I've shared some experiences on here. if you'd like to read some of my past post on the topic, you can just look at my history on here. I can't remember if it was on this subreddit or not. Anyhow, I've been trying to compile my experiences in a way where I can follow the breadcrumbs. To be honest, sometimes I just don't want to think about it because I think I sound crazy, or might be losing my mind. There are moments when I'm more inclined to share my experiences, and then there are

are moments when I think about if someone wanted to, they could use all this against me. Isn't that what happens to people who live or think outside of the box, outside of the norm? We aren't able to meet outside of the fringes of society. Anyhow, over the last few years, I've been having experiences where there is two-way communication going on. There were times, especially when it started happening, where I was communicating. with myself, but it obviously wasn't me. It was someone that appeared to have the exact same DNA and genetic makeup as me, but it was from another reality. It would be in the form of a daydream.

It's the best way I can describe it. It would happen when my guard was down. In other words, my mental capacities were not as rigid or attached to my perceived reality or senses. I know this might sound counterintuitive, but I believe that more of us would have these experiences if we weren't so attached to the physical world around us, including our own perceived reality.

No, I wasn't high or tripping, although I do believe that some psychedelics may aid in prepping the human mind to experience these connections. I just don't think they are necessary. I think the human mind can attain these levels of awareness and communication without the use of external substances. These moments would usually happen late in the day, when I would be tired. Not to the point of falling asleep, but tired.

These weren't dreams either. Yes, I have had dreams where I believe they are an extension of other realities, but what I'm specifically talking about right now is about communicating with other realities. These were never initiated by myself, to my knowledge. There would be moments where I would be talking, and I would see who I was talking to, and they would ask me a question, and then my vision would return to what was right in front of me, and I'm answering out loud that question that was asked to me seconds before. I don't think that it was astral projecting.

I think my whole self was in the physical, little, spot in my reality where these encounters took place. But I think the other realities have the technology to communicate with other realities. And they somehow meet them where they are at. I apologize if any of this is confusing. And I understand if you have written me off as a raving lunatic. I wouldn't blame you.

I'm just trying to see if there are others who have had similar experiences. There were times where it seems. that I was communicating at once with three different realities. Then I stopped having communication with what seemed to be my others from alternate universes. It then started shifting to where I was communicating with people I had never seen before in my life, and it looked like they were wearing attire from the 1940s or 50s. I know that sounds cliche, but that is the best way that I can describe this. It was a group of three people.

One person was sitting at a desk, and they had what looked like an old walkman, headphones around the temples of their head, and two people, a man and a woman, would be standing behind them. I got the impression that it was the person sitting down with the headphones on the side of their head that was doing the communicating. Then I got a glimpse where it was a room full of these groups of three people. In other words, an auditorium-sized room, full of desks, where one person was sitting down and there were two behind them. I moved to a new town about two months ago, and these experiences and encounters have stopped. I am a veteran and got blown up twice when I was in Iraq, so through the VA I was able to get my head checked in more way than one, because I was honestly concerned something was wrong.

and nothing problematic nor concerning has shown itself. There are so many theories I have about all this, but that's all they are. If there is technology that other realities have, there's no telling what year they are in. Just because we are in the 2020s doesn't mean that another reality is. There might be something to have someone with the same genetic makeup and the same DNA, being able to communicate with their others in another reality. The more I try to figure it out, I just find myself with more questions. I appreciate this subreddit.

When I read other people's experiences, it encourages me to press forward. I'm open to hearing if anyone else has had anything similar happen to them, or to hear their ideas and thoughts on the matter. 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 whatever platform that you're utilizing. And if the platform you are on has a rate the podcast option, please consider doing so.

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

Speaking of stories, if you have one you would like to submit to me, please go to as the ravendreams.com and click the button in the middle of the screen that says submit your story. These stories are mostly sourced by listeners, so let's keep the podcast alive. If you've got one, I'd love to read it. Anyways, friends, I hope you're all having a beautiful day and a lovely week. And I hope I see you again very soon. But until then, remember you're loved, you're valid, you're important. You're the best you that you can be, never forget it.

And until next time, much love and sleep well.