As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 161 - Scary Night Shift & Paranormal Stories

Episode Date: January 30, 2025

I wrote a novel! It is a psychological Thriller, titled "The Insomniac's Experiment", and I put a lot of time and creativity into it! It is available directly from me (autographed and with extras), and also on Amazon (digital or unsigned physical copies)! Signed Copies: https://ko-fi.com/s/bfdb8cb5f2 Unsigned or Digital: https://a.co/d/4voCEK1 Today, on the 161st episode of the As The Raven Dreams podcast, we have 10 True Chilling stories. These stories come from the shadowy corners of reality, where everyday life takes an eerie twist & ordinary people experience the extraordinary. Today we will be diving into some Night Shift Horror stories, as well as some Chilling paranormal stories. Two ad spots- at about 13 min and 60 Min. 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 Thank you to all of the authors that have stories in today's Video... DozenDimes, Steph923, Lisselle, TheCleaner, Bob-the-tank, Catherine Eliot, Cestakrve, Bron Roberts, Kris Nowak, Nolan 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... Time Stamps 00:24 ➤ Story 1 13:11 ➤ Story 2 21:45 ➤ Story 3 24:54 ➤ Story 4 29:38 ➤ Story 5 41:41 ➤ Story 6 51:16 ➤ Story 7 1:01:02 ➤ Story 8 1:13:47 ➤ Story 9 1:16:10 ➤ Story 10 ----- #TrueScaryStories #AsTheRavenDreams #ParanormalStories  #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

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with the podcast, go to as the ravendreams.com and click the button to send it my way. Also, if the platform you're on has the option to rate the podcast

or leave a comment, please consider doing so. And as always, thank you. Hi, Raven. I've been listening to your podcasts for a year now, and I love them all. My story isn't scary per se, but it's definitely paranormal or spiritual,

depending on how you look at it. I'll start my story off in the summer of 1985. It was August, and I was 12 years old. My parents and I had just moved to Edmonton Alberta the summer before and my dad hadn't been feeling well for a couple of weeks. We knew it had to be something serious because my dad never got sick. And after seeing a doctor, he was admitted to the hospital for a week. It turned out, he was a type 1 diabetic, and it was bad enough that he had to be hospitalized. In order to stabilize his blood sugars

and teach him how to take insulin by injection, and manage him to. his diet. He had just turned 42 that July, and had always been active and healthy, except he was always a little overweight for most of his life. So fast forward to November of 1986, and my dad was doing great. He lost some weight, was managing his diet and taking his insulin, and then he decided that he didn't need to take his insulin anymore. Now, my dad was the kind of man that never complained about being sick and used to say that doctors were like mechanics. They only fix you up enough so that you have to keep coming back. My mom was upset that he was being stubborn and it worried her a lot. Then, the following April, on the 7th, it was like any other

morning. My dad was up early, making breakfast for everyone when I got ready for school. He drove me to school that day, gave me a kiss goodbye, and told me to have a good day. I was 14 now and in grade 8, but that afternoon changed everything. My cousin, Glenys showed up at the school just after lunch was over, and I was called to the office. My cousin told me I had to come with her to the hospital because my dad wasn't doing well. We raced to the hospital and met up with my mom outside of the I see you. She explained that my dad said he wasn't feeling well that afternoon, and he was going to hop in the shower and then go see his doctor.

But before his shower was done, he called out to my mom while wrapping himself in a towel to call 911, because he suddenly couldn't breathe, and then suddenly collapsed to the floor. The ambulance managed to stabilize him on the route to the hospital, but he was now in a coma and hooked up to many different. machines. Needless to say, he passed away from kidney failure two days later due to not taking his insulin for the last five months. My mom was devastated, and I was angry. How could he do that to himself, and to us? It took me a long time to get over that anger because he was so young and I was a daddy's

girl. Over the next few weeks, my mom and I experienced some strange occurrences after his passing. The first one was on the evening after his funeral. All of his siblings and his mom, my grandmother, flew down from Ontario two days before. Everyone was gathered at our place that evening in the dining room and the kitchen while I was laying on our love seats in the living room. My auntie fern, showed up, my dad's first cousin, and she was all about wanting to take charge of putting all the cash gifts and checks from family and friends into a trust fund for my mom and I. My dad never trusted her when it came to money, and some of the family were trying to step in and stop her from discussing any of that, with my mom, while she was in no shape to make any important

decisions at that time. Suddenly, in the living room, the curtains that hung up. in front of our patio door, blew out like they were hit with a gust of wind as if the patio was open, but it wasn't. Then, all the cups and the cupboards started to rattle. Everyone stopped talking and looked at each other, as my grandmother walked over to the cupboards, opened them, and proceeded to separate all the glasses and coffee cups until they were silent. But once she closed the cupboards, they started to start to. to rattle again.

My auntie Fern looked very uncomfortable and left a few minutes later. As soon as she walked out, the door and the rattling stopped. The next incident happened two weeks later when I came home from school. My mom always got home from work an hour after me, so when I went inside, I noticed our storage room door down the hall was open and the light was on. I thought my mom must have forgotten to turn the lights off and close the door earlier that day. So, I walked down the hall to the storage room, reached in to pull the chain which turned the light off, and then closed the door.

I walked to our kitchen and picked up our house phone and called my friend Michelle to chat while I made myself a snack. As I was talking to Michelle, I happened to glance down the hall and the storage room door was open, and the light was on again. I quickly explained to my friend how I just dealt with that when I got home, and how it's like I never did. I was a little freaked out because I knew I closed the door and turned the light off. So I put down the phone and told Michelle I would be right back, while I went to deal with that again.

Once I was back on the phone, I told Michelle what freaks me out is that my dad was. putting up new shelves in the storage room the week he ended up in the hospital, and he still had one set of shelves left that he didn't get to assemble for it. Then, my heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest, when I glanced down the hall and saw the door open and the light on again. So, instead of dealing with it again, I let my friend go and went straight out to the patio to wait for my mom to get home.

When she pulled up 15 minutes later, she asked why I was sitting outside. I explained the whole storage room situation and told her that I had just left it when I saw it for the third time. But when we walked in and looked down the hall, the storage room door was closed, and the light was off. My mom looked at me a little skeptical, but didn't question it any further. The third incident happened two months. after my dad passed away. I was sound asleep when I opened my eyes, and I saw a faint glow in my room.

Looking around to see what was causing it, I saw the image of my dad at the foot of my bed. It was like looking at etched glass with a faint light in it. I could see everything behind him, but I could also make out the baby blue color of the suit that he wore for his funeral. He didn't move or say anything. but being 14, I pulled my covers over my head in fear and told myself that I was just dreaming. A couple of minutes later, I peaked out again to still see him standing there.

Now, I felt really scared, not of my dad, but the thoughts of my dad as a ghost. I pulled the covers over my head again and noticed through my covers that the room got brighter. As I peeked out a second time, there was now a bright orb at the foot of my bed, and it was shining different colors. Then, it slowly moved toward the ceiling and disappeared. I quickly jumped out of bed and ran to my mom's room. Without explaining anything, I just climbed in beside her and noticed that she was awake but had tears on her cheeks. It wasn't until a few years later that she asked me why I crawled in. into bed with her that night, as I hadn't done that since I was a little girl.

Then, before answering her, I asked her why she had been crying that night. She awkwardly told me that she awoke to see my dad standing in her bedroom doorway. Then he blew her a kiss and disappeared. Then I shared why I had crawled into bed with her. She told me that she felt that he had come to say goodbye to both of us. As the years went by, I got married, my dad's birthday, July 23rd, because he couldn't be there to walk me down the aisle. And I also had three daughters whom I shared photos and stories with, of my father.

So, even though they never had the privilege to meet him, through my mom and I, they felt that they knew him. My mom always told everyone that he was the love of her life, and she would still shed a tear now and then because she missed him still. Then, around the end of November of 2012, my mom was in hospice. She was diagnosed with cancer eight years prior, and I took care of her until October of 2012. Once it spread throughout her entire body, hospice seemed the best place for her to be. The staff were very loving and caring, and I was there around the clock with my own cot in her room. I only went home once a week to wash the clothes that I packed for the week and replaced a week worths of new ones.

Whenever I did this, my oldest daughter would come and spend time with her and stay the night on the cot in her room until I returned the next day. When I did this on November 20th and returned home the next day, my daughter stayed the day with us before going home. An hour after she had left, she started sending me text messages, asking me what I see and sending me a picture. The hair stood up on my neck as I saw the image of what looked like my dad's face on her dining room window. Kayla lived on the fourth floor of her apartment building, and she had a balcony only in her living room. This image was on her dining room window.

She noticed it as soon as she walked in the door. and thought that it had to be a smudge or fingerprints from her little girl that just happened to look like my dad. But when she went to rub it, she realized it was on the outside of the window. So, with her heart racing, she took a picture of it and sent it to me.

As I'm looking at it, my mom happens to ask me who I'm texting with, and I said Kayla. Then she giggled and said that she just left, left from here and asked if everything was okay. So I said that she sent me a picture, so my mom asked what, and asked if she could see it. Without saying what it was, I just handed her my phone.

My mom got the biggest smile on her face, as she said, Dad's here. He's sending a sign to let you all know that he'll be around and waiting for me, and that everything is going to be okay. An hour after Kayla sent me that photo, the image disappeared. My mom passed away on the early morning of December 5th with family at her side. To this day, I still have the photo with that image on Kayla's window. I cherish it, because I do believe he was trying to get our attention that day,

and it worked. Take care, Raven. and thank you for sharing my story. So this was something that was more bizarre than scary, except for that very moment that had happened, but I wanted to share this with you anyways. Many years ago, I used to work a night shift as a hospital custodian for a few years. Most nights blur together, just me, my cart of supplies,

and the ambient sounds of the hospital. Machines warring and beeping, nurses talking, in the distance and the occasional television. It's actually one of the reasons I can't sleep in silence anymore. I have to have some kind of ambience in the background. I went into the rooms, sometimes there were patience in them, and sometimes they were empty. I took out the trash, wiped down surfaces, and did a little housekeeping like replacing towels and extra blankets that were stored in the closets.

It was pretty late. I was actually almost done with my shift at that point. I went into the room of an elderly woman who had been there for about two weeks. I had cleaned her room a few times prior, so I'd seen her before, even though she was asleep when I saw her. She had some gifts in her room, which consisted of flowers, little stuffies, and those stick balloons. They were typically on the counter by the TV and out of the way,

but sometimes I would have to sweep up petals that fell on the ground. That wasn't just her room, though. That was for all the patients. So, that night, I did my normal routine. As I entered the room, the patient was asleep. Whether they're asleep, awake, in a coma, I let my presence be known so I don't startle them. It's just something as simple as,

Hello, I'm just here to pick up a little. and when I leave I say have a good night. This patient was never awake or even moved when I was in her room, but I just assumed that she was sedated at night to help her sleep. So I started wiping down the counters, sweeping, emptying the trash containers, even collecting the hazard buckets. But as I was collecting the small trash can next to her bed, I noticed a jello cup and spoon sitting on the makeshift nightstand.

Depending on the time of day, and the patient being awake, we could leave the food items there or ask them if they wanted to keep it or toss it. But since it had been several hours since the last round of meals, it was outside of the time we were technically allowed to leave it. We had protocols that said we had to throw out

any food items after a certain time, so I went to reach for it to toss it. That's when it started. As I grabbed the cup, I felt an impossibly cold hand touched my head, touch my elbow. It was enough to startle me and make me jump back. I looked to my left. At my arm, I saw the patient's eyes locked into mine. The whites of her eyes were watery and yellow, but what really stood out to me was how alert she looked, how determined she seemed to get my

attention. She very clearly asked me to leave the jello cup for her grandbaby. I apologized and said that I wouldn't touch it, and then smiled at her. She smiled back as she closed her eyes and said, It's his favorite. I put it back down and pulled out a small note pad that I carried. It was convenient when I needed to remember something later or for situations like this. I wrote a quick note that said, Do not throw away and put it under the little green cup.

By the time I did this, I turned to let her know, but she was already asleep again. It just confirmed to me that she was probably on something that helped her sleep. I continued cleaning the room and then left the room letting her know I was leaving. My heart rate dropped back down to normal after that, and I finished my shift with no other major events. The very next night, as I started my shift, I was chatting with some of the nurses as the shifts changed. I overheard two of the nurses talking about the patient's grandson eating jello at every visit. I thought the whole situation was pretty cute, so I asked them if that was the patient with that room number, and they confirmed.

I mentioned how she startled me as I went to toss the jello, asking me to leave it, which is why I left the note. I'll never forget the looks on their faces. They looked at me like I was talking nonsense. They asked me who told me to leave it, and I confirmed it was the patient, the older woman. in the bed. If they didn't know me, I'd think they thought I was lying to them. But one of them told me that the woman didn't speak, and in fact, had been in a medically

induced coma due to her condition. I was at a loss for words. She definitely spoke to me. She grabbed my arm and smiled at me. She told me not to take the jello. We were all just at the point of saying, huh, that's a little. weird, because either we didn't want to believe it, or maybe just think about it, or maybe they did think I was messing with them, but we just dropped it.

It stayed in my mind that whole time that I worked that evening. I even cleaned her room again that night, and there was another jello cup. This time it was purple. As I finished, I walked to the cup and wrote another similar note, but I took a shot and softly asked what flavor he preferred, and there was no response. I thought maybe she just felt so strongly about it the night prior that she had to tell me. So I placed the note, and as I started wheeling out my cart, I clearly heard, Green. I looked over at her, and her eyes were closed. Did I really hear that? Was I mistaken? So I went back to my note and wrote, Green preferred.

Maybe it would do something. I didn't know if it would or not. After that night, I was off for two days, and work was the last thing on my mind. When I returned, I started on my normal routine, which included stopping and talking to the nurses before I got started. One of the nurses I had talked to about the Jello patient approached me and asked me if I was the one that left the note again. I confirmed that I was, and that she once again, told me the grandson's favorite flavor. She looked at me surprised and asked me what she said, how she acted, etc.

I told her exactly what had happened, which was pretty uneventful in my opinion, other than the fact that she shouldn't have been conscious in the first place. The nurse said that the patient's condition had worsened, and that she had a DNR, so she passed while I was off. But she said that the family had visited again before, and when they saw the note, they actually brought another green jello. She passed after they had left.

I was shocked. Obviously, she was in the hospital, so she wasn't healthy, but the fact that she passed after the grandson was there and had the cello was almost a gut punch to me. It was like she waited to enjoy it with him one more time. She had the strength,

while in a coma, to wake up and stop me from tossing her grandson's treat. And I can't help to think that that was what she was holding on to. She just wanted to share that moment with him again. Maybe it was his favorite thing. Maybe there was an inside story to it that I'll never know. But while the nurses were still baffled by my experience, I just took it for what it was and held on to it.

knowing that the little cleaner guy may have made that woman's last days just a little bit better. Hello, Raven. I fell in love with your podcast, and I listened to it on my long night shifts at work. You're doing a great job. I want to tell you my story

where I'm pretty sure I was visited by a ghost of a close family member who had passed. The first story is about our family friend. He sadly passed when I was around 20 years old, and me and my parents lived in his family house, taking care of his elderly mother. I have to describe the house a little. It was a two-story building. Grandma lived downstairs, and we were above it. There were new sturdy doors leading to the streets and one to the backyard.

Also, there were two doors under the stairs and right above them, actively separating our flat from the outside by the house. behind three locked doors. I slept in my room opposite of my parents, and we shared a wall. When our family friend passed and we had a funeral for him, we went home as always and went to bed normally. During the night, I was abruptly awoken from my sleep by a very loud knocking on the door. It was like five or six loud, quick, full-fist bangs.

I thought it was in my mind or that it was outside on the door. the main door, but when I shook the sleepiness, I realized it went from our top door above the stairs. A reminder that this door was the last in a line of three locked doors. Nobody could silently walk to them and knock from the outside. Then I realized my parents were awake too, and they were silently talking. I heard my mom say, did you hear that? That knocking? What was that? I called to them that I heard it too, and then we all got up, got dressed, and went to investigate. My dad armed himself with a mace hanging above our fireplace in the living room in case there were burglars.

Our first thought was that maybe Grandma left a candle burning and it caught fire, alerting neighbors and firemen that were barging into our house, but everything was calm. Grandma was safely asleep in her bed. The doors were locked and everything was silent and peaceful. We went back to bed, not discussing it further. In the morning, I told my parents that it felt like my uncle had come by one last time and knocked on the door to alert us that he was in our flat. He used to do that when he came to visit,

because his illness was severe and we helped him and he was with us almost daily. My mom went pale and said, I think that too, and I didn't want to alert you at night thinking it might freak you out. So, we deduced that our friend had come by one last time to say goodbye. Hey, I've been listening since 2020, and you do some great work. Thank you. I've been delivering food at night for the better part of a year. It started out as me getting some of the best of a year.

It started out as me getting some extra cash, and now I do it just to make ends meet. Bills have gone up. Most of the time it goes without a hitch. I do my work, get paid, and sometimes a nice tip, and then go about my day or night. Thus far, I haven't had any carins or weird behavior, except one time. Nothing serious like what I'm going to tell you about. I picked up the food like usual and followed the jeanne's. GPS to their location.

They wanted me to knock and then leave it on their front step. Pretty easy and minimal human contact. I pulled up and saw a row of dark houses. The street itself was dark too. My headlights were the only lights going in and I instantly felt unsafe. I'm not one to judge. I've seen some bad spots myself. And I thought they may have wanted to save on the electric bill.

Normally when people see me around, they're looking out the blinds or the curtains at me, but they were dead quiet. I sent a message telling them that I had arrived. They told me to place it on the step. The lead-up to the driveway had bushes on the path, making it hard to see, and I didn't like that. During the day, it probably wouldn't have been so bad. I sent another message. Hey, can you turn on a light, or can you come down to the car? It was quiet, and I watched those three dots bounce. Either they were slow at typing, or... Finally, it came up with a single word.

No. I was mad when I saw it and struck the side of my car. I took a photo for evidence, hoping that I wouldn't lose the fee and contacted the delivery company, telling them I felt unsafe, and I left. I checked the receipt and saw that the meal in total came to about four. 40 bucks. I wasn't going to risk my life for that. I expected a dispute, but there was nothing. No negative review came up either. The only thing that did was a notice to be careful when delivering to that area. Realistically, they could have blacklisted the street if they wanted to. I did some

more investigations, and it turns out that other delivery drivers had been sent down that street, and most, like me, had the sense to get out of there. well, except for two, a man and a woman who had since gone missing. Where I live is kind of known as a hotspot for human trafficking, so most locals know to be wary around the sketchy areas, but these two were from out of town. I still deliver, as I have to, but I'm cautious, and I carry to ensure that I'll be safe.

Sometimes I'll bring a friend with me to make sure that I'm okay. My girlfriend has also asked me to come too, but I've refused her. My friend and I decided to drive past the houses during the day. He heard the stories, so we made our way down the street. It was quiet, and the houses all looked abandoned. Many were boarded up or had the windows broken. Other than two burnt-out cars, ours was the only vehicle on that street. I realized how the streetlights weren't working properly that night.

I pulled up in front of that house with the bushes, and in daylight, it was hard to see. People could have definitely been hiding in there. I nearly drove off when my friend smacked my arm and pointed to the yellow police tape around the scene. He wanted to get out and go check it, but I said no. I drove away before he could actually get out, and we haven't been back since. I didn't Google any more of what happened, and I really don't want to know. As soon as I can get a job that earns more, I'm not going to be delivering anymore. But that's my story.

Anyway, should I go into the creepy houses, Raven? I guess I could have another story for you if I do. Just kidding. I'm not going to go in. By the way, I listen to your stories during these long drives, and hopefully someday I'll get to hear mine, too. Well, here you go. Back in my 20s, I job hopped a lot. I didn't know what I wanted to do after high school,

so I certainly didn't want to go to college without a goal in mind. So, until I figured out what I wanted, I worked where I could. I worked in retail and even as a front desk assistant, but this story is about the time that I worked at a gas station. I started working there at nights, which is typically where everyone started. But then you would gain the privilege to go to the day shift if you wanted, or even transfer to another store after 90 days.

But as I worked that late shift, I learned that I actually liked it. It was pretty chill, compared to the high demand of the retail or grocery stores, and I didn't have to wear heels like I did at the office. The hardest part of my job was probably when I had to tell people that our coffee or soda machines were out of order. I liked the people that I worked with too, which was a benefit. It was almost like we were there to just mess around and talk all night. Most of the nights were like that anyways. So my shift was typically from 3 p.m. to 11 p.m.,

but sometimes I stayed later, depending on my ride situation. I also had a crappy car, so if it ran, I got home on time. If not, I would have to wait for my boyfriend to come pick me up, and he got off work at around the same time. We always had two to three people working at the same time, but the other two people were typically overnight, with me leaving at 11, so they also couldn't take me home. Store policy was that two employees had to be working at all times.

The gas station itself is unremarkable. It was a pretty popular one in Oklahoma that was off a pretty popular street that ran parallel with the highway. Needless to say, we got pretty busy in the mornings and in the evenings as people got off work. But by 9 or 10 p.m., it was pretty dead. My last few hours were always a break from the rest of the shift, which was nice. That night, I was manning the register as I usually did. Josie would be coming in in a few hours to start her shift, and Carlos was in the freezer stocking stuff.

It was quiet, as it normally was, with just a car here or there that would get gas, pay at the pump, and then leave. It was about ten when I first noticed this car. It was an old dark brown or maroon sedan with tinted windows. It caught my attention, because it had been circling the parking lot for about ten minutes or so. Something that was definitely unusual. It passed by the front of the store a few times, which was even

weirder to me. We were a 24-7 gas station, and it was pretty obvious. But just to humor them, if they weren't from the area and not familiar with this specific gas station chain, they could see the store hours on the door when they pulled to the front the first time, and then they would know the hours. There was no reason for them to drive by the front doors multiple times. We even had suspicious cars drive by,

like they were casing the place, but as soon as they saw Carlos or maybe the multiple cameras, or maybe the multiple security cameras, they would just move along. It didn't happen often, but it was still more than once, which didn't make you feel good about it. So, this car had to be.

circled multiple times, but they kept coming back, unlike the past experiences. I was concerned it was going to be a similar situation. I hollered for Carlos and had him come up so I could point them out. I explained what I was seeing, and he agreed that it was weird. However, we also knew how the store owner was about things like that, so we told each other if they tried to do anything that we would call someone or do whatever we needed to do. The car drove out of the lot again, and I was praying that that was it, that they wouldn't return. Maybe it was just them casing, and they were feeling a bit more confident in their abilities. Either way, it seemed like they had given up.

But not long after, maybe 15 minutes or so, they were back. This time they stopped by the front doors, and the passenger's side rolled down their window. He hung his head out, and at first glimbing. He looked old. Too old to be doing what he was doing. He had short but curly gray hair and a matching gray beard. He was just staring right at me as he blew a kiss and smiled. I just looked back down at the counter and act like it was the most interesting thing I'd ever seen.

I was looking at the spots and rubbing my fingers on it, like I saw a spot to remove or something. I remember this because I was counting the brown specks that could be. covered the beige counter, and I heard someone trying to do a burnout and then looked back up to see the car taking off down the road. What the hell were they trying to do? But shortly after that, they were right back in the parking lot, now stopping at a pump. They probably were low on gas with how much they had been circling and idling. But as soon as I saw three doors open, I started to get worried. I immediately called for Carlos again, not taking my eyes off the car. The driver

stepped out and began fidgeting with the screen while the guy in the back got out and stood with his back to the car. The passenger got out and immediately did this weird jump shake thing. It was like what I see in movies and shows when someone is about to do something dangerous or stupid, like he was getting himself amped up. Again, this guy looked like he was in, his 70s or something, and was acting like someone my age. Carlos told me to go back to the back and to not come out no matter what. He said if I did hear or see anything to call the cops immediately, and to call Josie to tell her not to come in.

I wouldn't have even thought about Josie, honestly. The thought of her showing up and being outside with them gave me the chills. I did what was asked of me, and I went to the back standing right behind. the swinging doors. This way I couldn't see the front, but I could still hear anyone talking or any sounds. The man was whistling and said,

hola! To Carlos, who just said, hey. I heard the whistling as he walked by the doors and headed to the back, by the soda machines. He then went back to the front, and I heard a crunch, possibly lying something on the counter. Carlos asked if that was it,

And all the man said was, where'd the little girl go? Carlos answered, she's on break. The man's response made my stomach drop. Aw, I wanted the pretty girl to check me out when she's coming back. In a very annoyed tone, Carlos responded, Will that be all, sir? I heard what sounded like a bunch of coins being dropped, then followed by the man laughing.

He then said, Adios, amiga. and what I can only describe as being sarcastic, and then I heard the door chime. I waited for a few seconds, and then peeked my head around the corner. I didn't see the man, so I asked Carlos if he was gone, and he confirmed. I came back out and saw Carlos picking up coins from the counter still. Apparently the man had just tossed some money on the counter and walked out with a bag of chips. He said that he was glad he sent me to the back,

because seeing that guy face to face was unsettling. One of his eyes was completely gray and clouded. He didn't have any teeth, yet his smile was creepy and his hands were messed up, like dried blood and cuts all over his knuckles. He asked me to call Josie and tell her to call when she got there so that Carlos could meet her at her car, and he said he was actually going to call the cops, too. I knew the guy was creepy, but something else was obviously

putting him on edge, and enough so for him to call the cops. After the guys had gotten back in their car, they left the parking lot but were stopped on the side of the street across from the gas station. When the police rolled up without their lights and sirens, that's when that car left and didn't come back. We both explained what we saw and the cop said that he would do some rounds to see if they did come back. They left so quietly, I don't know if the cop even realized they'd, they'd have.

were there. I remember trying to stress the importance of where they were, trying to convince the cop to go now and that they might catch them if they did, but he wouldn't, saying he had to wait for backup. It was crazy. I never saw that car or those guys again that night, and I was so angry. If they would have paid attention, they might have. Ultimately, they just took our report and said to call them if they came back again. That was the next. night that I drove myself, and I really wish that I hadn't. Carlos walked me to my car, but I would get distracted by any lights that I saw, paranoid that they may have been following me, but I got home with no incident, and my boyfriend

even met me outside, after telling him what happened at work. Carlos had also reported the incident to the owner, since it was required any time the police were called. To my surprise, the owner took it very soon. Seriously. They ended up talking to me about it, too, and mentioned how they had heard other reports about a suspicious red car driving around and following women.

It was always at night, and was when they were alone. Locking up, or leaving work, leaving a bar or school. Sometimes even just walking at night. They would follow them. Sometimes they would ask them for help, or ask them to go with them claiming they knew a place to party. or that they needed help with something in their car. As far as I knew, and what the owner told me,

they had never been successful, but they still had a lot of reports from those women. The thought these guys could have been there for me and not the store, it made me sick. What would have happened if we didn't call the cops? Would they have waited for me to leave? Would they have tried something in the store if they thought I was alone? I still have no one.

idea, and I'm sure that I'll never know. What I do know is that it made me realize some of the vulnerabilities of working at night, and I didn't like the odds as a small female. I ended up changing to days after that until I found another job, and I never looked back. The fun, workless nights we had as employees were nice, but it definitely was not worth my safety. It's December 19th. I'm spending the morning listening to your podcast and getting a few things ready for Christmas. It is, as you know, an excellent podcast.

Oh, thank you. I'm spending Christmas with my daughter at her home in Sydney. I live in Melbourne, yes, we're in Australia. And I'm spending the morning listening to you and finishing the gifts that I need to pack and take with me. Last week, I had guests staying with me. so when I tidied the house and set up their living space, I put the gifts into a bright, multicolored, and very easy-to-see shopping bag, and put them on the top shelf in the cupboard in my bedroom for safekeeping.

This morning I got them out, put them, while still in the bag, on the dining-room table, and got two of the gifts out to work on. With those two finished, I smiled as I popped them into a plain-colored bag, which is my code for... This project is complete and ready to be delivered. I took that bag into my bedroom and put it on top of a set of drawers ready to be packed into my suitcase. Then I went back to the dining room to work on the others. But the table was empty.

Where was the brightly colored bag? Where were the other gifts? I was sure that I had put everything on the dining table, but it was bare. I checked the chairs. No, not one of them. I looked around the room. I'm home alone. There's no one here that could have moved it.

Perhaps I only thought I brought everything out or had taken both bags into my bedroom. I went back to the bedroom, either to get them missing things from the top of the drawer where I'd accidentally put them or from the top shelf of the cupboard, but they weren't there. I double-checked.

the bag on top of the drawers, but it only contained the two completed gifts. I went back to the dining room in case I missed them. I looked around, under all the furniture, in the cupboards and the drawers, but the bags and its contents were nowhere to be found. I walked into the lounge room. I hadn't been in there this morning, had I? Perhaps I had. Another search, around and under and inside.

all of the furniture, but nothing. I began checking everywhere that I store things. I pulled things out of the hall cupboard, searched the cupboard and the laundry, checked under the bed in my room, in the box with the other Christmas things in the cupboard and under the beds in the other rooms. Nothing.

I began looking in places where I really doubted I would have put them. The cupboard in the bathroom, the pantry, the cupboard where the kitchen things are kept. and even on top of the fridge. I'd had a bit of a clean-out before my guests arrived last week. Oh, no, perhaps I'd mixed them up with the things I had donated to charity shop? Surely not. They were in my bright, happy shopping bag.

Surely I would have noticed. But I was a bit stressed with the guests coming. They'd only given me a few days' notice. perhaps I didn't notice that it accidentally picked up the bag with the donations. No, I always keep the donations separate from other things, and I double-check them as I take them out to the car. Once, several years ago now, I accidentally donated something that I loved,

and raced back to the charity shop the next day in hopes of buying it back, but it wasn't there. It wasn't something I ever wanted to repeat. I'm usually pretty careful when it comes to donations. Could I buy the purchased presents again? Did I have time to remake the handmade things? Where were they? I clearly remembered bringing the bag out when I decided to work on the gifts.

Is my mind playing up? Is age finally taking its toll? No, it's the house ghost. I often joke that we have a house ghost. Well, I joked others about the house ghost, but now I know we have one. Our house is around 70 years old. We bought it 40 years ago from the original owners. No one has died here, but things vanish and reappear, and I blame the house ghost.

I believe it's an old friend of mine who died when we were in our 20s, and for some reason has just decided to stay with me. Happily, he's more of a prankster than malevolent. but sometimes, like this morning, he can be a little annoying. I remember listening to one of your stories about a lost wireless earbud. It made me smile. A few months before I heard that story on the podcast, I had dropped one of my earbuds on the carpet in the lounge room. I saw it fall, saw it land on the carpet.

I saw it sitting there right in the middle of the room. I was writing an assignment for university, and I decided to finish writing down my thoughts before I picked it up. But when I went to pick it up, it was gone. I checked the floor, even moved the furniture, but it was nowhere. I saw it fall. I saw it on the carpet, but it was nowhere to be found. Your story made me smile that other ghosts do similar things.

I got angry with the house ghost about the earbud. I knew that was a mistake. Always search, give up, accept, ask politely for the thing back, but never get angry. A big mistake. Never get angry. Sadly, the earbud still hasn't reappeared, but I blame myself. Back to the Christmas gifts. I decided to take a break from searching. I told the house ghost I was giving up, congratulated him on his joke, told him I had other things to go and get on with.

I bought a new top at the charity shop yesterday, and wanted to alter it. I got the sewing machine out of the hall cupboard, having another quick check through the cupboard for the missing bag, and as I did, I told the house ghost that I knew I'd said I was taking a break, but hey, just in case. I put the sewing machine on the dining table and got to work. Alterations done, I put the sewing machine away, another quick look through the hall cupboard just in case I missed the bag the last two times I checked, and went to the laundry to get the vacuum cleaner to clean the threads from the carpet. And yes, another look through the laundry cupboard just in case the bag was actually there,

and I missed it the last two times I checked that cupboard. I looked down the back of the wash. washing machine, even though there's no way the gifts would even fit down there. And inside the washing machine, even though I'd put a load of laundry through that morning. And I even checked inside the dryer. I haven't used the dryer for a while, and you never know. But no, the bag and the gifts weren't hiding in anywhere in the laundry. I walked back into the dining room, and there was the bag, on the dining table.

in the middle of the dining table. It was not there when I put up the sewing machine, or when I packed it up to put it away. I would have seen it. It's a small table, and from where the bag was sitting, I would have had to have moved it to set the sewing machine up. I checked the contents. Everything was there.

I shook my head. I'd spent over an hour looking for that bag, and my house is tiny, a single store. story, not many places to hide a bag, especially one that's bright yellows and pinks and blues, and is pretty hard to miss. There's no way it was on the dining room table, but there it was. I rolled my eyes, thanked the house ghost, picked up the bag and walked into the bedroom to check that the other gift was still on top of the drawers, just in case the house ghost had

decided to move them now that he had given the other gifts back. or hide the bright bag again when I left the dining room. The other bag was still where I'd put it. I thanked the house ghost, I'm slightly annoyed by all the wasted time. Did I mention that I'm going to my daughter's house in Sydney for Christmas and I have things to do? I finished all the gifts and put them with the others

on the top of the drawers in my bedroom. As I headed back to the dining room, I noticed that my sewing scissors, were on the bench in the bathroom. Now, how did they get there? Oh, hang on. I think I know. Hi, Raven.

I absolutely love your channel, and I'm always impressed by the respect that you treat people's stories with. You seem like such a kind person, and I listen to your channel every day. Thank you. This is the first time I've written about this situation, and while I am the person writing it, it is actually my entire family's lived experience.

I'll be referring to my family members in vague terms to protect their privacy. We lived in Arizona, and as our children grew, we decided that it was time to move into a larger home. The housing market moves quickly in the metro area that we lived in, so it wasn't long before our realtor took my husband and I to see a home that was only about a mile away from our current home. This was ideal as we wanted our kids to stay in their current school and have easy access to seeing their friends,

and we wanted to stay at the church that we attended. When we saw the house, it seemed to have everything we needed. An extra bedroom, a home office for my husband, a huge upstairs loft, and plenty of space for friends and family to come over. My only complaint was that the home had an unusual smell. Not a bad smell, just a smell that I attributed to the current occupants, perhaps enjoying some sort of cuisine that had aromatic spices I wasn't familiar with. However, it wasn't enough to keep us from being interested in the house, and soon we made an offer that was accepted. We moved into the house, and at first, everything went well.

We'd moved home several times due to the late 2000's recession, and the process was, pretty easy for us. Everything seemed great. The kids liked their rooms. We enjoyed the extra space and we had a really nice kitchen and living area. Then one day I came home from work to find my teenage kids and our dog standing in the driveway, looking terrified. I was upset and quickly exited the car thinking something had happened. Something bad, but normal, like a pan catching fire in the kitchen. or the toilet overflowing. That wasn't the case. One of my kids told me that they had fled the house

because they had started hearing a voice that was following them around the house. Soon, the voice, which was quiet at first, escalated to roaring at them. I'll admit at first I thought that maybe they'd watched something that frightened them and their imaginations were running away with them, but I saw how truly scared they were. and I quickly noticed my dog's behavior.

She was cowering and trembling, and had voided her bladder on the driveway. I hugged my kids close, and then I went into the house. I checked everywhere in every room in each closet, even the pantry in the kitchen, and I found nothing. There was nobody in the house. The kids finally came back in, but we had to carry our poor dog back into the house.

This one event led to multiple instances of paranormal activity. We heard voices upstairs when we were downstairs, and downstairs when we were up. The smell of the house, at first not unpleasant, became stronger and stronger and soon was overwhelming to us all. Our dog, a breed with a life expectancy of around 15 years, was terribly sick within less than a year of living in the house. house. Thank goodness she pulled through, but we almost lost her. My youngest child who was especially

sensitive to energy of all kinds was waking me up in the middle of the night most nights, utterly horrified by something tapping on the mattress of the bed from underneath. Soon these disturbances progressed into visual sightings of things that should not have been there. We repeatedly saw a shadow figure on the stairs. and my younger child was regularly seeing some sort of entity that was entirely made out of teeth. We all became sick much more than usual. Things went missing and then reappeared in places that we never would have put them. My older child went through a mental and emotional trauma that had left them with thoughts of ending their own life.

It was beyond terrifying. When I say that none of these situations were typical or expected experiences for the people I love, I mean it. These illnesses and crises came out of the blue. We all became shades of the people we were when we moved into this place. It was one of the most horrendous experiences that any of us have ever had. I finally resorted to burning sage, anointing the rooms with frankincense. burning incense, praying through the house with my Bible, putting out crystals,

anything that we thought might help. We tried it. Nothing worked. I know this sounds like it's made up, and I would probably think so too if we had not lived through this, but I swear it is all true. Even my husband, who was a complete skeptic when all of this started, began seeing things skulking around this damned house.

It was completely horrifying. We felt like we were hostages, caught in some sort of portal or hotbed of activity. And these entities were not friendly. Their entire purpose was to frighten us. My husband kept saying there was no way we could leave this house. By the time the activity was in its peak, we had only lived there for less than a year and a half. We would certainly lose money if we tried selling it and... moving. But one day, my child came to us in the morning in tears. They showed us their arm,

and there on their upper arm was a deep bruise in the exact shape of a large man's hand. You could see the heel of the hand, the meaty area beneath the fingers, and a thumbprint, and four exact fingerprints. The type of bruise that would result from a large hand wrapping around their arm and digging the fingers and thumb into their flesh. I was sobbing. I told my husband that I didn't care if we just moved out and foreclosed on the place. We were leaving this house. Whatever this evil bastard was, he was hurting my child.

Not on my watch. Hell no. My husband instantly agreed with me, thank God. We contacted our realtor that day and told her that we were putting the house on the market. From that night on, our kids slept in our room with us. They had air mattresses on the floor.

We never turned off the lights, burned sage constantly, although I doubt it did any good. It at least helped us feel like we were doing something. And we tried to be out of the house as much as possible,

both in the daytime and evenings. At this point, you could almost feel it. I'm not sure how to really articulate this, but the only way I can think of to say it is you could almost feel the house breathing, as if it were pulsing with this terrible, evil opposite of living energy. Perhaps we should have disclosed what was going on in that house to the people who bought it. To this day, I pray that they did not have the same experiences that we did. but as a mother, I had to get my kids out of that place. I had to get them somewhere safe.

Someone purchased it quickly. In the instant we could, we moved our belongings out and into our new home. A much smaller, much safer place that felt like a safe haven from the evil we had lived with for far too long. That little house became our refuge, a literal place of here. healing for our family. It was tiny, but we were grateful to stay close together. My kids finally felt like they could sleep in safety. We were able to heal together. I was so grateful to see my children and dog return to their full health and vibrance. They begin laughing again, finding joy in life instead of dreading it. I'm so grateful to that safe, bright little home. We've seen,

Since moved states, and now we live on the opposite side of the country from the house that tried breaking our family apart. And I am, to this day, several years later, so grateful that we will never, ever have to look at it again. Thank you so much, Raven, for taking the time to read our story. I hope that if there is someone out there who's experiencing things that cannot explain, they will feel less. alone now. I've been working as a commercial cleaner for about a decade now. I know to many it may seem like a weird or undesirable job, but it's actually quite nice. I work overnight. I get to listen to music and podcasts, such as yours, and I usually don't interact with any of the customers. I go into the buildings, clean, disinfect, and sanitize office buildings, especially after 20,

2020, our business really ramped up. Sometimes we've even gotten calls to clean up some crime scenes. I can't really go into a lot of details on those, but I wish I could. For the most part, it's just the office buildings. It's pretty simple work, and I enjoy it. But there was a situation that I was unfortunately involved in back in 2021 that has affected me on the job since. We had a relatively new client, a law office, that started a contract with us in late 2020.

They had a small suite previously, but since they added a new partner, they needed a bigger place. So they moved to an old Victorian-style home that had been converted into commercial use. It was surrounded by some nearby stores, all within walking distance, in a pretty popular area. apparently it was easier for them to hire cleaners than having janitorial staff, which made sense after cleaning the place a few times. There wasn't exactly enough room for a janitor and all the supplies. The clean was simple enough, though. We swept or vacuumed.

In their case, it was mostly sweeping as they only had a rug at the entrance and in part of their little break room. We wiped down the tables and counters, cleaned the windows and then sprayed and sanitized pretty much anything that was touched. Handles, knobs, keyboards, you name it. They had a small lobby or waiting area with a check-in desk, three offices, what looked like a meeting room and then the break room and restrooms. I cleaned the whole place on my own in a matter of a few hours.

That night wasn't supposed to be any different. I got there at about 2 a.m. and it was dark and empty. As I mentioned, the place was old, so it still made its own share of noises from the creaky hardwood floors and a few of the windows shaking. They were actually in the process of replacing them when we started cleaning for them. I remember because one of the repair guys left a pile of shavings under the window. Anyways, I always started from the back and worked my way to the front.

That way all my supplies are near the. door. I popped my headphones on and started working on the break room. It was fairly simple as nothing had been left out and the trash was empty too. I mop once everything else is done and since that was it for that room, I moved to the meeting room. There is a single filing cabinet with an attached shelf in there that had a stack of various office supplies, pens, notepads, paper clips, and the filing cabinet was locked. I just dusted when necessary and wiped down the handles. I did notice the supplies seemed to be strewn about, specifically the note pads, and those

tan folders in the metal holder. They were all empty and unused, but they still looked lopsided, like they'd been shifted or bumped really hard. I just straightened them out and moved on. Then I went to the closest office, one of the lawyers. That's when I immediately noticed something was wrong. The desk looked like a mess. Things were scattered around.

The small plant that sat on the desk was now on the floor, knocked over. Papers were scattered around on the desk and floor. Every time I had cleaned this place, they had every piece of paper put away unless it was blank, which made sense, right? They probably had a lot of confidential information, and we had to sign clauses too about not going through anything and reporting if anything was out in plain sight.

I didn't immediately see anything on the papers, but I still didn't believe they would have left their office like that. I continued to look over the room to assess it all when I saw the shorter filing cabinet behind the desk. It had a large dent in the front and top of it, like it had been punched or kicked, maybe. I approached it and to. tried the handle and I noticed with a clunk that it opened.

It had obviously been locked. You could see the mechanism sticking out of the side. But with how it had been damaged, it warped that part of the lock, so it freely came open. I closed it and looked at the bookshelf on the other side of the wall, where I saw many binders had been pulled out and scattered around. The more I looked at this room, the more I realized that something was not right here. I was not feeling good about this situation, so I left the room, reaching for my phone in my pockets to call it in.

The place had most likely been ransacked or robbed. But as I stepped out of the room, I heard the floor creak toward the front of the building. It only creaks when you walk on it. Someone was still there. Before I could react or even unlock my phone, there was a dark shadow to my left, in a splitting pain in the side of my head. Then nothing but darkness.

When I finally came to, I was lying on the ground in the dark. I didn't turn on a lot of lights when I worked. I liked it when it was dim and besides, I didn't need to turn on every light as I cleaned. In that place, I would just turn on the hallway light and the light in the room that I was cleaning. But when I woke up, all the lights were off. I remember I turned my head making sure to not make any noise and looked around the room.

I didn't see anyone or hear the floor's creaking, so I stood up. Thankfully, my phone was still on the ground, close to where I fell, and I snatched it up immediately. I was surprised. I'd been out for almost an hour. God knows what could have happened in that time. After assessing the situation, and the knot on the side of my head and no blood, I took off. I left everything in there as is, along with my stuff, and booked it to my car. Thankfully, I always kept my phone and keys on me. Once in my car, I called my boss to tell him what had happened, and then the cops.

I sat in my car and watched the place to see if I could see any movement inside, or if anyone left, but I never did. I don't know if I was relieved by that or disappointed. The cop showed up pretty quickly, seeing as there was a police station within a short distance. As I was telling them what had happened, I saw my boss and another man approaching. It was apparently one of the lawyers. I started my story over to explain to them what I had witnessed, and the lawyer confirmed the office that I described was his.

I was asked to stay outside with my boss while the two cops went in with the lawyer. While they were gone, I had another officer come over and asked me to give a statement, so I explained it all to him as well. I remember him asking me to be very specific about the times and what I saw. Once I finished, he patted me down and handcuffed me. I was confused and worried. Why was I being put in handcuffs? He said that I wasn't being arrested and that it was just for precaution, but I was still confused.

I had called it in. I had been attacked. After some time, the cops and the lawyers walked back out. The lawyer looked a bit concerned or frazzled while the other cop that I hadn't yet talked to approached me and asked me to go over things again. By now, I'm annoyed, confused, and worried. Not to mention, my head was still. killing me. A paramedic had come over and checked on me too, making sure I didn't have a concussion. They gave me an ice pack or something, but it still hurt. Their tone was making me increasingly

nervous. They weren't treating me like a victim. They were treating me like a suspect. I started second-guessing everything as they questioned me. Did I do something wrong? Something that would make them think that I was the culprit, too? The paramedics said, ended up taking me to the hospital to make sure that I didn't have a concussion, but I was still nervous about the whole situation. I know I didn't destroy that office, but then I remembered how I did touch the handle with my bare hand. What if they lifted prints and found mine?

Would they think it was me the entire time? The more I dwelled on it, the more guilty I felt, even though I knew I did nothing wrong. I was given the rest of that week off, per my boss's orders, and just waited for someone to show up at my door and arrest me. Instead, I got a call from my boss, and after asking how I was doing, he asked me to come in. I felt physically fine after that first day, so I drove myself. He actually relieved so much of the stress from those past few days.

He probably told me more than he was supposed to, but I appreciated it. First, the suspicion of me being involved was completely gone. He had actually backed me up to not only the cops, but the lawyer too. The lawyer, however, was pretty quick to agree that I had nothing to do with it. In fact, he was pretty confident that it was probably a disgruntled client, or maybe even a defendant, because nothing of monetary value was taken. The computers and other electronics were untouched. It was specifically his office and his files.

The other two offices hadn't been touched either. I was relieved. My name was cleared and I could go back to working knowing no one would think that I was going through their property. But it was still a crazy thought, though, that they would just happen to show up at two in the morning, or a little earlier than that even, and I would show up to ruin their plans. The funny thing was, I usually cleaned their office every other Friday. But they were closed that week for some reason, and didn't want to pay for a service where there wouldn't be much to do.

So they had me come in the next Friday, the Friday that I wouldn't normally go in. It was literally a wrong place, wrong time situation. I continued working, and I even continued cleaning their place. I was just a little more aware of my surroundings. Before I start cleaning, I will walk around to each room and make sure the place is completely empty before I get started. I later learned from my boss that they did catch the guy that broke in,

and it was someone that they were suing. Obviously, I don't want to give out names or locations that would get me into trouble, but basically, they tried to steal the information they had on him to give to his lawyer, but his lawyer reported it, knowing he wouldn't be able to use the information anyways. Apparently my boss had gotten pretty close to our clients, or maybe knew them all along. I wasn't entirely sure. But that's my story.

I got knocked out while cleaning and almost accused of robbing the place. But the dude that did it was pretty stupid, and got caught anyways, and I kept my job. Let's just say that he better hope that we never meet again. Hey, Raven, my friend introduced me to your channel, and I've fallen in love. During October 13th of 2023, me and my closest friends were all hanging out at my best friend's house, Braden. We were having a good time after coming home from a school party on a Friday. But one of my friends, let's call him dog, Dog's mom called him around 5 p.m.

She asked where Dog's brother was because he hadn't come home like he did. We're all freaking out, but didn't think anything of it. Outside of Brayden's house was an accident. We hadn't known at the time, but something bad had happened to Dog's brother. Later that night, maybe 20-ish minutes, we were eating pizza and dog's mom called. She told Dog that he needed to get ready to leave as something. something had happened to his brother. Dog's brother had been hit by a school bus.

We were devastated and tried to help calm him down. I told everyone to get in a circle and to start holding hands. I had prayed in the Lord's name that he would save Dog's brother, as we all knew him and enjoyed seeing him. Unfortunately, he was gone from the earth that night. Dog ended up being with his family, as he should have been, and we all stayed at Braden's. We tried to keep our minds off of things, and it was hard.

That night we all slept in Braden's basement, and before I had gone to sleep, I had just asked, let me talk to him one more time, please, meaning Doc's brother. I had a dream that night that I was sitting in a white void on a chair, and in front of me was another chair. But who was that chair for? dog's brother.

Now, I don't have any idea what we talked about or did in the dream, but I knew. I just knew that we had talked. I woke up and I felt better. I was still, obviously, hurt that he had passed, but I'm glad that I had talked to him one last time. Hi, Raven. I love your stories, your voice, and your obvious kindness. Thank you. This is my first time submitting to you, and I'm excited.

I live in the mountains in Australia. My sister and I live together with my kid. It's a peaceful life. My sister is one of those amazing special people. She is a nurse in a palliative dementia ward in the local nursing home. She works the evening shift, and I pick her up at midnight five days a week. I sit in my car, in the dark car park. and wait, parking as close to the door as possible, so she doesn't have to walk too far.

I never go in, because the nursing home is locked down every night. A few months ago, it was an extremely windy night. I could see lightning flashing in the distance, illuminating the horizon, but the storm hadn't hit. I was waiting for my sister, who was often late, and watching the approaching storm. The car park was very dark. but in the window of the room next to the nursing home entrance, I saw a dim light brighten and noticed an elderly woman sitting there, looking out. Her eyes met mine, although I wasn't sure how she could see me in my dark car,

but her gaze was penetrating. She didn't smile, but nodded, and turned her head back to the room. For a while she seemed to be talking to someone. I watched her laughing and seemingly communicating, but I couldn't see anyone else in the room. Given that she was a dementia patient, this wasn't out of the ordinary.

I was wondering why such a frail lady was awake after midnight, especially knowing that the ward was for extreme presenting and palliative dementia residents. I decided to tell my sister that the woman was in the room before I drove off, but it was getting later and my sister still had not come out. I watched the lady again. She was very pale, white-haired, parchment skin, and was wearing white with a green cardigan.

She kept looking at me, certainly seeing me. The storm hit, and then my sister ran out. She jumped in the car, and I greeted her. Before we go, I said, is that lady supposed to be in the room there? She seems to be alone. What lady, my sister said, immediately. in nurse mode again. In that room, I pointed, but the room looked empty.

There was a lady in there. My sister told me that all of her patients were in bed, or in the living room being attended by care staff. No one was in that room. It's out of bounds to residents. Only their families go in there. She said that the room was the place where the doctors and nurses sat with family,

whose relatives were at the end stage and were dying. There was no one in there now, and the door is kept locked unless it's needed, which on that night, it wasn't. I described the lady and my sister said that it was a pretty generic description of many of her patients. However, she did say that strange things happened in her work. Nurses often reported hearing noises in that room when it was locked. I don't know whether I saw a time slip or a spirit, but I know she saw a sudden. me. And I'll always wonder why she was there that night. Hey there, friends. I hope that you enjoyed this collection of scary stories on this episode of

the As the Raven Dreams podcast. If the platform you're on has the option to follow podcast and you enjoyed my work, please do consider doing so. Also, leaving ratings and reviews are super important for the algorithm to support the growth of the podcast. I'm just one guy doing this. I don't have a team. It's literally just me doing everything. So any supports like that is greatly appreciated. Never expected, though. So if you go above and beyond with that, I do appreciate it. Some platforms also allow you to leave comments, and if you feel inclined to do so, please do. I would appreciate that. I do have a Patreon in a merch store that you can also check out if you want to support a little further. The Patreon site of things get you early access to all of my content. It is

It's formatted differently as it goes in line with what my YouTube channel is, but it is the same stories, just different collections. There is also a website, astherravendreams.com, where you can check out pretty much everything about me, my social media platforms, fiction stories I've written if you want to read those, as well as submitting your own stories, which there's a big button on the front page you click to do so. And those stories basically keep the podcast alive, to be honest with you. So, yeah. All that said, friends, I do hope that I see you again here very soon. Until then, remember that you are loved, that you are valid, that you are important. You're the best you that you can be.

Don't forget it. And until next time, much love and sleep well.