As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 187 - Scary Driving & Paranormal Stories

Episode Date: August 3, 2025

Today, on the 187th episode of the As The Raven Dreams podcast, we have 9 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 the terrors that can occur on the open road as well as creepy ghost stories! If you enjoyed this episode, be sure to like or rate the podcast, and leave me a comment with your thoughts if the platform your own supports it! Scary story episodes 2 to 3 times a week If you have a story to submit, would like to find where to listen to the podcast, or want to find me on social media platforms, all of that info can be found at https://www.astheravendreams.com You can also send stories into my subreddit (r/theravensdream) or email them to me at [e-mail] Want to check out some ATRD Podcast Merch? ➤ https://teechip.com/stores/astheravendreams Or for signed merch ➤ https://ko-fi.com/AsTheRavenDreams I wrote a novel, "The Insomniac's Experiment" by Raven Adams! Check it out on amazon (Or you can email me for a signed copy!) Join Patreon to get early access and support the Podcast! ➤ https://www.patreon.com/AsTheRavenDreams Check out my gaming channel with my pal Ghost_Ink ➤ @superNefariousBros On YouTube Disclaimer ➤ Episodes include a content warning for language and sensitive/disturbing content. Listener discretion is always advised. ALL Audio and visuals on this podcast are copyright of AS THE RAVEN DREAMS / RAVEN ADAMS and may not be duplicated, in any format. Bless This Mess. Thank you to all of the authors that have stories in todays episode... Michelle Bodenham, Lia, Cyndy Spei, R.B, Heather, JQ, SmallTownBoy, Sonny M., RemarkableMarker As Well As Any Author That Has Requested Anonymity. TimeStamps… Midroll ads after Story 1 and Story 5 1 ➤ 1:53 2 ➤ 16:53 3 ➤ 22:25 4 ➤ 29:33 5 ➤ 41:15 6 ➤ 1:03:54 7 ➤ 1:07:19 8 ➤ 1:14:10 9 ➤ 1:19:31 ----- #TrueScaryStories #AsTheRavenDreams #GlitchInTheMatrix #RedditStories 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

Hello and good afternoon, my friends. Some of you may be coming in here saying, Wow, Raven, been a while since we've seen you. Allow me to explain a bit of what happened really quick before we start this episode and why I was a bit absent last week. I'm going to put it very simple. Thursday morning, and before I say this next thing, I want to let you know I'm fine.

I'm totally fine. Thursday morning, I decided to fall down the stairs. I woke up at 5.30, and by 5.36, I took the pane slide to the first floor. Thankfully, I fell backwards and slid down the stairs, not forward. So, because that would have been very bad. But I decided to take the backslide down the, down the stairs. So I could not, on Thursday, sit comfortably, or Friday, sit comfortably.

Yesterday, it was a little better. Today, it's about the same as yesterday. But honestly, yeah, so I decided to fall down the stairs, and that's kind of why. I took some time off because I couldn't really do much work. Sitting in a chair is very uncomfortable. I don't have a riser desk, so sitting is kind of a necessity. I figured it warranted a couple days off. I don't know about you, but falling down the stairs is not something I want to start doing ever or do again.

So anyways, that's why we were kind of slow on episodes last week. Sorry about that. I will take the episodes that were supposed to go up last week and cram them in somewhere this week, so they are still up. Sorry again. and yeah, hopefully you all enjoy today's episode. It's some driving paranormal stories. Should be a good time. Uh, yeah.

Go ahead and laugh at me in the comments if you're on the platform that has comments about falling on the stairs. Please laugh because I need the humor. Anyway, see you next time, friends, enjoy. Hi there. I'm new to your channel, but after hearing some of your more unexplained and glitch stories, I wanted to share something that happened to my grandmother and myself when I was younger. It's something I still try to make sense of as an adult, and it makes it even harder that not many people believe me.

This happened back in the early 2000s. I was nine years old and was sitting in the back seat, in my booster seat, buckled in. I was spending the summer with my grandparents, like I usually did, and it was always a blast for me. They turned my mom's old room into my room, and slowly my toys and clothing collections spread to their place as well. It was my second home, and I loved it.

On Fridays, my grandma met up with some of her friends to play a game called Bridge. I remember that as a kid it was very confusing. She always let me pack a backpack full of toys, coloring stuff, whatever I wanted to help keep myself entertained, as we were typically there for several hours. My parents lived in the mountains on the east coast. It was a smaller town. I remember there were a lot of older people that lived there,

and I even remember asking my parents if that's where people had to move when they got old. I remember this because my parents still tease me about that question. Anyway, it was a small town that was connected to the outside world by a winding mountain road and that snaked up and down the ridge line for what felt like, as a kid, forever. Most of the time, I enjoyed it. I would watch out the window as we curved around and went up and down. But on a bad day, like when you weren't feeling too good, you had to roll down the window, close your eyes, and pray that you didn't get sick.

I've taken that road countless times with my grandparents, and my parents. We had to take it to go to the growth. grocery store in town for errands to visit neighbors or go to her bridge games. But Grandma was an excellent driver. She'd been driving that road for decades, as she put it, and she knew how to handle it. She knew where to take it slower, even if it was slower than the posted limit. She knew where to look out for the curves, especially if it had been raining or snowing. Hell, there was a hailstorm and she refused to even let my parents leave.

and we ended up staying there that night. She knew every bend, every steep grade and every spot where the guardrails were weak or missing entirely. When I was learning to drive, she always told me, if you drive too fast up around here, these mountains and their curves will humble you real quick. This event happened one Friday during the summer. We were leaving my grandma's friend's place and heading back home from her bridge game.

We were just about to enter the mountain when this little blue sedan came flying by us. The road that we were on was a two lane, with passing sections. We were just about to hit the mountain, and down at the beginning it's in no passing zone, since there was a steep hill. This driver clearly didn't care about that, and Gunded past my grandma to get ahead. I remember this because the car was pretty loud,

and it had one of those large black spoilers on the back. I also remember it because there was a large tractor trailer exiting the mountain, and they just barely miss each other. My grandma just shook her head. I can still hear her thick southern accent as she said out loud something along the lines of, if they don't slow down before they hit those bends, they're going to find themselves staring at the bottom again. We continued our drive as I talked about whatever kids taught.

about when maybe ten minutes later we heard a car revving up again around another curve we spotted that same blue sedan now swerving past a small silver car I remember commenting that we had caught up to them I remember that my grandma said that speeding wasn't going to do them any good around here then we rounded the mountain to one of the most dangerous sections of the road it was a series of sharp switchbacks that descend about 500 feet down the mountainside. The curves were so tight that you could barely see 15 feet ahead of you, and there was nothing but a thin guardrail between the road and the sheer drop into the valley below.

There were signs posted about the curve, speed, tons of safety warnings, and my grandmother always took the road slow. She didn't mess around with that kind of stuff, always telling me how you're behind the the wheel of a very large and potentially killing machine, and that it's your responsibility to make sure that doesn't happen. As we began the descent with the silver car in front of us and the blue one in the lead, I watched the blue car take that curve way too fast. I watched their brake lights kick on, and I remember hearing the screech of tires.

It was long and seemed to go on forever. I heard my grandma softly say, Oh my goodness. And then we both watched as we heard metal on metal. As the blue car crashed into the guardrail and flew off the side of the mountain. My grandma let out a sort of yelp or scream, which then made me scream and I started crying.

My grandma came down to a complete stop and the silver car seemed to slow down, but ultimately just kept going. Grandma put her car in park next to where the guardrail broke, and I think she tried to peer off the side, but she didn't get out. Her voice was shaky, and she bowed her head and said a prayer for the car. I don't know why she didn't get out, but I really don't blame her. Now, as an adult, I don't think I would have been able to look either.

Hearing her shaky voice, though, it only made me cry harder. I was terrified. I had just witnessed somebody's death. The drop had to be at least 300 feet straight down into a dense forest. My grandma didn't have a cell phone at the time. They weren't really huge around then. And my dad only had one because it was paid for by his work. So after my grandma said her prayer,

she reached back to calm me down and we drove away. However, we didn't drive straight home. home. She instead drove to a police station. I remember walking in with her and she explained to an officer that she needed to report an accident and that they should hurry in case the person was still alive. She explained to them what had happened and gave them directions and then they asked her to take them to the location. We drove back to the location where we saw the car jump with two cop cars following behind us. Once we got there, one of the cops had already started blocking the road while the other got out with my grandma. She had the windows cracked, but I was told to stay in the car. I watched as they looked over the edge of the mountain.

I then watched as the cop looked concerned, and my grandma would shrug and talk with her hands a bunch. After about ten minutes or so, she got back in the car and we went home. I asked her if the people in that car were going to be okay, and she took a while to finally answer. And all she said was, I don't know. But here is where it gets bizarre. The next day, a detective came to my grandparents' home and asked to speak with her alone. Then he asked to speak with me. Because I was a kid, he had to wait for my grandfather to get home,

so that an adult was with me. They didn't want my grandma to do it. I guess conflict of interest or something. So when he got home, they asked me what I saw, what I remembered. I told them everything. I probably gave them more than they needed, but I gave them our whole itinerary for that day. I explained how we went to the bridge game.

I explained our drive two and the terrifying drive back. I explained seeing the blue car. pass us as we entered and how we commented on them going too fast. I explained that I saw them pass the silver car, and then I saw them fly off the edge. I even asked the detective why the silver car didn't stop like we did. He asked me more questions about specifics, like details on the car, if I saw who was in the car, and even if my grandma had had anything to drink at her friend's house. My grandma drank tea, like nothing, and that's all she ever drank, and then he left.

After that, my grandma didn't seem all there. As a kid, I assumed that she was just shaken up about the whole situation. Maybe the cops told her that they didn't survive, I wasn't sure. But then my parents asked me about what happened, and as I explained it all, they would constantly ask me, Are you sure this happened? Are you sure you saw that? Are you sure grandma didn't tell you that?

I thought the questions were odd, but again, I just answered them honestly and didn't understand. Little did I know that this would become quite a point of contention in my family. I wouldn't learn until I was a teenager that nobody believed us. When my grandma talked to the cop at the location, they couldn't see the car down there, yet the guardrail was broken. They later had a rescue team go down the side to try and find them or recover anything, or I guess any one, but they were nowhere to be found. The car was gone, and there were no signs of people. There were even indentions between the trees and other plants like something hit it, but nothing was down there.

There was no other sign that an accident had occurred. With how high up we were and all the rocks and trees down the side, there was no way that someone would have been able to pull that car out of there in the time it took us to drive to the station and bring them back to the site. Even if we include the time it took for the rescue team to get down there, which was the same day, without anyone noticing. Not to mention, it was highly unlikely that someone would have survived that fall, and if they had, they would have been in no shape to just pluck their car off of a mountain.

So what the hell happened to that car? Over the years, Grandma would sometimes bring it up. She always maintained that we both saw that car go over the cliff. We both heard the tires squealing in the clash of metal. She would even motion to me to confirm, and I always did. I remembered all of it in detail. I would even finish her story, especially as I got older, which matched hers. But slowly, people became more and more agitated by my grandmother.

My mom would often argue with her and tell her that she was just mistaken, and clearly she had scared me enough to repeat the same thing as her. Someone even claimed that she had hit the guardrail and made up this elaborate story to cover up her accident. But the problem with that theory was that the front bumper only had a small dentinant from a small bump that occurred at her grocery store. There was no new damage. And with how destroyed that guardrail was, she definitely would have had more damage to it.

More damages to the side, too. As time passed, we both learned to just stop bringing it up. No matter what, my parents seemed to never show any interest in our experience. My grandma passed away almost eight years ago, without anyone still believing us. I still try, and sometimes my mom seems to consider my version of events, but then quickly shuts it down and the conversation is over.

I fear that I'm never going to be believed either. I may have been young, but I know what I saw. I know what I heard. And I remember my grandma's reaction being, filled with fear. I looked at her for comfort after witnessing the crash, but when I saw the fear in her face, I couldn't help but be even more terrified,

and I remember that I cried harder. I have no explanation as to where the car could have gone. There was no cave, no water below for it to just float away, just more mountain, rocks, and trees. But the police all claimed that there were no signs of a car. The guardrail has since been repaired, and there's no sign that anything actually ever happened. Sometimes I want to find a way to explore the place on my own, and figure out how to climb down the mountain myself, but I also have a slight fear of heights,

and I really don't think I could do it alone. I want answers, though, and I think overall, for my grandma's sake and reputation, I will explore more options. If I do, I'll definitely update you as well. Until then, I hope that you enjoyed my bizarre and truly unexplained story. Hopefully, someone out there believes us. Lazzang sur-gely, puissance-molyerned for 15 minutes. We'd say that's their dojo.

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help. Hey, Raven. I'm from England and I've been listening to you for a while now, and would like to say thank you so much for doing

what you do. I've had a few rubbish years that I'm now starting to come out the other side of and you've played a massive part

and distracting me or helping me to relax. Thank you very much and I hope things do get better for you. I've got a creepy and 100% true ghost story that I would like to share with you.

I've held on to this for a long time and have never told anyone else because I didn't want to sound crazy. Before the main event, I need to take you back in time to 2001. I was 16 and started regularly visiting my boyfriend's home so I could spend time with him and his family. This house layout had stairs and went straight in front of you as you opened the front door, and the living room slash kitchen area was to the right of the front door. One evening we were sat watching TV in the living room, and I heard something that sounded like a person running up the stairs next to the living room. I said, oh, is there someone else here?

And they all gave me a funny look and said no. Then it happened again the next time I was there. I thought to myself, okay, maybe I'm hearing the neighbors. And then I realized that there are no neighbors attached on that side. And even if there was, that walk that I heard with the footsteps on, is on the wall the stairs are on, so we wouldn't have been able to hear the neighbors. The third time it happened, my boyfriend's nan was there and said, oh, there he goes again. I looked at her and said, so you hear it too? And she was like, oh yeah, this house is haunted, and we often hear something going up or down the stairs.

My boyfriend said that he and his mom didn't want to freak me out, so they didn't want to mention it. Now we can fast forward seven years. I'm 23 in its 2008. Me and my boyfriend are separated, and I'm in a new relationship. The house that was my boyfriend's childhood home and creepy stair footsteps house has been being rented out for a number of years. I was looking for somewhere for myself and my new partner to rent, and my ex-mother-in-law suggested that we rent the house off her as it was in the area that we needed. We agreed and moved in the next month.

I'd completely forgotten about the nightly, creepy footsteps, until my new partner said the one day, gosh, aren't the stairs in this house cold? As they said those words, all those creepy nights came back to me, but I didn't say anything thinking, of course, there's an innocent explanation for what I had heard. The first week went by fine and we were sat in the living room, and I felt like I'd gone back in time when we sat there. Yet again, I heard someone very aggressively running up the stairs. This time, however, my new partner looked at me and then jumped up and ran to the stairs looking for someone.

I had to explain that no one's there. It's just something that happens in this house. The stairs are haunted, apparently, to which they got me to explain what I knew. A month or so later, me and my partner had an argument. It wasn't a bad argument, just bickering over something silly, and as I was talking, I ran down the stairs into the kitchen. I then heard the picture on the top of the stairs shatter with a bang. I went back up the stairs and said,

Huh, very mature, as my partner was coming onto the landing to say the same to me. It was at that point we both realized that neither of us had broken the picture. In fact, neither of us were even near it. It just exploded, even though it had been there a month perfectly fine. The next incident happened when I felt a very cold gust of wind as I went to talk down the stairs and literally got pushed, or that's what it felt like,

from the top to the bottom. I landed at the front door at the bottom of the stairs in a heap with finger marks on my arm. I kept trying to work out how I would put those finger marks on myself, but there was no way I could place my hand in the correct position. So where did they come from? It really freaked me out. It freaked me out enough to start looking,

into their homes to rent. Not long after I was hoovering and mopping downstairs. The wooden floor at the bottom of the stairs was drying, and as I walked over it to go upstairs, I noticed a massive footprint. Too big to be anyone that I knew, or most people, to be honest. It was honestly huge.

I mopped over it again, thinking it was a print that had somehow re-shone up, but it didn't matter how much I mopped it. It was still there. I placed my foot inside the giant footprint for size reference, and it freaked me out so much that I literally grabbed my keys and trainers and left the house and refused to go back in. It wasn't long after this that we decided to move, and my ex-mother-in-law told me that nobody who had rented it had stayed there very long, with tales of creepy things happening around the staircase. I honestly think that there might be some kind of portal where the stairs are in that home. And it's an area for a lot of activity that, no matter how much you try to ignore it,

just doesn't want to be ignored. Hi, Raven. First off, I just want to say how much I enjoy your videos. I usually listen to them while working, and it genuinely feels like I have a friend keeping me company in the background. Pleasure's mine, my friend. Anyway, I live in a small city called Deradun, nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas,

in the states of Utarakand, India. So, this all started on the 4th of August 2022. I used to study in a school near the Miawala area, and it's probably the most popular school in that particular area, so they try at all means to not let this information get out of the school, but coming from someone who lived through it, I can assure you it actually happened. So a little context for the actual event that followed.

It was a clear, sunny Thursday in school, regular classes were going on. Practice for inter-school dance and music competitions were going on in the music and dance rooms of the school, and everything seemed normal to us. But as soon as the bell rang for the end of the school day, news started spreading that some girl in the dance room fainted while practicing, and slowly the news started to get more detailed as people started saying that the girl had a heart attack, that she was foaming from her mouth and had gotten rushed to the hospital.

This was told to us by people that were present at the scene, so we had no choice but to believe them. Later that day, around 8 p.m. at night, we all got a message from our school confirming the unfortunate news. The girl was one grade senior to us studying in the 12th commerce, and she had unfortunately passed away. The reason of which was not stated in the notice, it wasn't clear whether she died on the spot or at the the hospital, but what we got to know from friends who were present there is that she died on the spot in the school itself. This was the notice. With profound grief and sorrow, we regret to inform the sad demise of our beloved students of name withdrawn, Academy. The school will remain closed for the next two days. The school reopened on Monday, 8-8-2020-2 regards the principal. Our school

gave us two days of leave and did a few minutes of silence. silence to mourn for our loss. The news came out that the chairman called priest and did pujia, religious practice, in school, and the priest was our friend's father. In the academic session of 2022 to 2023, the dance class was in the basement. But for the next academic session, they shifted the class to the new building along with the art room and music class. Everything was going normal for a few months, but then one day something strange happened. So, It was early in the morning. An assembly was going on.

And our accountancy teacher, who must not be named since he really didn't want to be associated with this incident. He used to get mad at anybody who asked him about this. He wasn't usually a strict teacher, in fact he was very funny and sarcastic, in his late 20s. But for some reason, whenever we asked him about this incident, he used to get all serious. Anyway, he was standing at the back of the line and started to feel a bit sick. so he went back to his class, which was 11th Commerce B. One thing you should know is that 11th Commerce B was shifted down to the basement where the dance class used to be.

As our teacher approached his class, he took a glance around the classroom, which was empty because assembly was going on, and he sat on the chair and put his head down. Now, as the assembly usually goes on, the office staff who sit on the CCTV monitor usually check, if there are any students sitting in the class, because that wasn't allowed in any case, unless asked for permission,

such as if a student got sick during or before the assembly, they used to go to the sick room. So like any other day, that day too, a ma'am was checking the CCTV camera until something in particular caught her attention. She quickly double-checked it and rushed to the class in the basement. As she entered the class, she saw that our accountancy teacher was sitting there with his head,

on the table. She got a bit confused at first, so she decided to ask our teacher about it. She said, Sir, where is that girl who was sitting with you just now? Sir got a bit confused. He said, what are you talking about, ma'am? It was just me the whole time. Nobody entered or left the classroom. But ma'am was sure about what she saw, and so was sir. Both of them thought that the other one was messing with them, but what happened next, baffled them both. After a few minutes of discussion, Ma'am finally said that if he doesn't believe her, he could check the CCTV footage. Both of them went to the office to check it, and sure enough, ma'am was right. There was a girl sitting in the front bench right in front of our teacher, who appeared to be old enough to be in class 12.

She was wearing our uniform, but not the right one, since we all were wearing our house uniform that day, but she was wearing the main uniform, white kerta with blue polka dots and blue sawwater. But they couldn't really tell who she was because the cameras are in the back of the class, so faces are not really visible. Not only that, she was sitting so still, just not moving a muscle and looking right at our teacher. This creeped both of them out. The news spread like a wildfire. Every teacher was talking about it for a day, but from the next day nobody uttered a word about it. I suppose management found out,

and to protect the goodwill of our school, they had shut everyone up. But that was not the only thing that happened. The school decided to forbid entry into that particular region of the basement and shifted those classes on upper floors, giving it the name of maintenance. Even though everything was fine in those classes, and there was no maintenance work going on there at all.

We could see because the library is right next to it. It stayed closed for a few months until they opened it up again, but now instead of 11th Commerce B, they made another art room there for juniors. No maintenance work was ever done until that time either. We tried to ask our teachers about it, but they would just shut us up. It's been one and a half years since that incident, and we still don't know who that girl actually was in the footage, or what they saw on the CCTV when Mayam entered the class. Did she disappear? Was she still visible on the camera? I guess we'll never know.

This happened to me when I was 21 years old. I'm 24 now, so it's still pretty fresh in my mind. I went to a friend's batch theret party and had been there late. By the time I left, it was probably close to one or two in the morning. I drove myself there alone, and the drive home was about 40 minutes from my friend's place, so I knew better than to drink. I had one beer early into the party and had water and Coke the rest of the night, on top of a ton of chips.

So, I know still not really okay, but I wasn't impaired by a long shot. I left the party, getting on to the hunt. highway ready for a nice drive, so I had the windows down to enjoy the moment. It was early June in Nebraska, so it was still relatively cooler in the evenings, which was perfect. I was on the highway with only about half the drive left, when I saw headlights in my rearview mirror approaching my car. They were higher up. I had a small two-door car, and this was clearly some kind of SUV. If you drive a smaller car, you'll probably relate to this, because when an SUV comes up

behind me, they easily blind me, and I have to adjust my mirror. No big deal, though. I'm used to it, so I just flipped my mirror a bit and kept going. But I noticed this SUV got pretty close to my car and then would back up. That is when I got a little annoyed. I was in the right lane, so if I wasn't going fast enough, they easily could have passed me, but instead they were doing whatever it was they were doing. That was until they finally got over to my left, but instead of speeding up to get past me, they met with my speed.

I looked over whenever I heard someone shout. The man in the truck was now trying to get my attention for some reason. I couldn't quite make out what he was. sang with the wind and the music, but I heard the words, wrong and pull over, as he pointed to the back of my car. The man looked genuinely concerned, and not angry or aggressive, so something made me think that maybe there was something wrong with my car. I slowed down and stopped on the grassy shoulder. I watched the SUV pull off behind me, as I put my car in park and was just about to turn my car off, when something suddenly screamed at me to not get out of the car.

Something made me stop and think, what the hell are you doing? I've watched too many true crime shows and knew that I was probably overreacting. Those shows probably have me a little more paranoid than I need to be, but I kept the car running and my window rolled up three quarters of the way. I watched the man get out of the driver's seat and jog over to my window. He looked like he was in his 40s, wearing jeans and a red t-shirt with the logo on the pocket. Maybe a work shirt, but I couldn't make out the name of the company. He went to my window and stopped with his hands on his knees as he looked into my car.

He greeted me and then pointed to the back of my car, saying that my bumper was hanging off on one side. It's bouncing around pretty bad. It might be hitting your tire. You'll damage your rim if you keep driving with it like that. I twisted around in my seat to look out the back window. I don't know why I did this, because of course I couldn't see it from where I was. I was confused. I hadn't hit anything. I certainly didn't remember backing in to something.

No one said they had hit my car at the party, and I knew everyone there, so I couldn't believe that no one would have told me. I also didn't have anyone hit me while I was driving. So when could that have happened? While this was circling in my head, the guy said that he could at least tie it up real quick for me, so that it wasn't dragging until I could get it in somewhere to actually reattach it. He asked if I could hold it in place for him while he did so. I was confused, but I unbuckled my seatbelt and was just about to get out when, once again, my gut told me to think this through.

That's when it finally dawned on me. If it was dragging and even hitting my tongue, tire like he claimed, wouldn't I be able to see it sparking or hear it grinding or thumping when it hit something? I did have my window down after all. So, I told him this. I said that I hadn't heard the grinding at all. He gave me a friendly smile and said, well, not always, claiming that it would depend on how it was hanging. I may not even notice it. The gut feeling was at full force at this point. I was not feeling good about this situation, and I really wasn't comfortable with getting out of my car. I wasn't far from home, and I still lived with my parents, while my dad helped me with everything related to my vehicle.

I stayed calm, and I thanked the guy for pointing it out, but said that I would wait until I got home to have my dad help me with it. I watched his expression change, like he was offended by my comment. He pushed that it wouldn't take long and that he just needed some help holding it up since it was dark out. I was firm and again said that I understood, but that I needed to get home. That's when he put his hands on top of my partially open window, gripping the top of the glass. It once again could have just been innocent, but getting that much closer to me made me even more uncomfortable. Clearly annoyed, he said, I'm trying to be a good Samaritan here, and help you out.

And you're just going to blow me off? Why would someone take the situation so seriously? You offered to help, and the person declined. You still tried to help, but why get so upset about it? Being the people-pleaser that I am, I apologized and made some excuse about how my parents helped me purchase the car, so I have to go through them for any types of repairs. And again, thanked him for letting me know.

That's when he started in on the insults, if you can call them that. This is exactly what's wrong with your generation. Someone tries to help you when you act all stuck up and ungrateful. What do you think? I'm some kind of creep or something? Because I'm not. And he even threw some kind of comment in about how he had a lot of female friends. I didn't know how to respond to this.

I was already nervous and confused, and his anger out of nowhere, froze me in place even more. I thought I would just slowly put my car and drive and leave. He was still at my side, so it's not like I would have hit him or anything, but he must have also realized what I was doing because he

pulled on my window, breaking it instantly. I gunned it out of there as he tried to reach into my car, but I was able to drive away before he could do anything. I watched as he ran back to his car and I could hear him burning out too. I was terrified that he was going to follow me home.

I wasn't thinking straight. I know it because my first thought was to call my dad. He would be at home waiting for me, so that's what I did. I know he could tell that something was wrong the moment I asked if he was home. His voice got deeper with a serious undertone to it. I explained to him what was happening, and I heard him tell my mom to call the cops. He told me to keep him on the phone, but to come home immediately.

and explain everything he did or tried to do. I was terrified, thinking this guy was going to ram the back of my car, but he never did. He caught up to me, but kept a distance away. Now I was concerned about him following me home and knowing where we lived, putting not only me in danger but also my parents. I pulled into the driveway where my dad was standing right on the edge, watching and waiting. As soon as I put my car in park, my dad walked towards my car before running to the edge of the driveway. That guy had, in fact, followed me all the way home, and my dad was now yelling at the guy to stop.

Thankfully, for everyone involved, he burned out and didn't stop. By my dad's voice, I have this feeling that he would have probably dragged him out of his vehicle if he had slowed down enough. However, because of what my mom had told the police, he was already waiting at the end of the block and flipped his lights on real quick, and had followed the SUV that had just burned out in a residential area. The neighborhood we lived in was very strict about that kind of stuff anyway. I got out of my car in tears at this point, and my dad hugged me to calm me down. I explained to him what exactly happened when another cop showed up and I had to start over for him. afterwards we walked around my car and I felt sick there wasn't a damn thing wrong with my bumper

it was still attached and not a single piece was dragging or dangling that explained why I didn't see or hear anything the guy lied about the whole thing of course and so what were his intentions in getting me out of my car they had me go inside with my mom to calm down while my dad finished up with the police they had given no indication on whether or not they had caught up with the guy yet. My dad didn't say much afterwards until the next morning when we had all calmed our nerves. We scheduled an appointment to get the window fixed with the help of our insurance company.

That's when my dad shared what he and the cop had been talking about. The cop told him that they had received very similar reports over the summer about a guy in an SUV stopping people to help fix something that was wrong with the back of their car. There had been three reports already.

One woman got out, and he actually tried dragging her to his car, but she had managed to pepper spray him, and the other two wouldn't get out of their car. I was lucky to not get out of my own car. I was a smaller girl, and there was no way that I would have been able to fight him on. I didn't have anything to protect myself at the moment, and he broke my window by just pulling it out.

My dad kept in contact with the cop, as in he would call in to see if they ever caught the guy because they didn't that night. So far, he's still out there somewhere, probably trying to do it again. I'm not paranoid when someone drives a little too close to my car, and I carry a couple of self-defense items with me, but thankfully, I haven't run into him again, nor have I been stopped. I just sincerely hope that nobody else falls for his tricks. Hello, Raven. I've been listening to and greatly enjoying your channel for a few years,

but this is the first strange experience I've submitted, here or anywhere else. I apologize in advance for how long this turned out to be. I tried to keep it as short as possible. I don't know whether to call it paranormal or a glitch in the Matrix, so I'll let you decide. Anyway, this event happened in 1993 when I was 14 years old, but first, context. I've always been kind of an outcast, even in my own family. Don't get me wrong, I love my family and know that they love me, but I had a rough childhood. I won't go into the details of my trauma, only that it started when I was five, and involved,

a close family member, so I often would avoid going home whenever possible. The trauma also negatively affected how I relate to people. I was shy, withdrawn and often anxious as a child, which made me often feel sick to my stomach, and I was the frequent target of teasing at school. Put simply, I was unpopular. I have siblings, but they're all older, and they were unaware at the time of the trauma.

trauma that was happening. To them, I was just a clingy, annoying little sister, always wanting to do what they did and to go where they went. They had no idea that I was behaving that way, so I wouldn't be left home alone with the person I desperately wanted to avoid. I did have two best friends back then. This would have been from 85 to 1990. I'll call them Kay and Nancy. We all lived on the same street, and I spent as much time as possible at either of their houses. I would ask to sleep over every weekend and even more in the summer. As I was mostly well-behaved and polite, their parents didn't seem to mind having me around all the time, thankfully.

Due to my constant anxiety, there were several times when one or both friends wouldn't want to spend time with me, though. I guess someone as needy and clingy as I was back then would have probably gotten tiring, even for little kids. I should also give some background about the neighborhood I grew up in, a typical lower middle-class suburb in southeast Michigan. It was mostly a quiet, boring couple of blocks

where all the houses were built around the same time and looked very similar except for one, the oldest and only two-story farmhouse, located around the corner from my house and situated directly in the center of the block. The farmhouse had a big, covered porch in a giant backyard, and it would have stood out amongst the single-story, brick, ranch homes that surrounded it, even without the ominous feeling that it gave me. The first

owners, that I knew of, were an elderly man and his adult son. I only saw the son when he was walking to or from his van to go grocery shopping. I would occasionally see the old man looking out the living room windows, or very rarely on the porch in a wheelchair. He didn't smile or wave like some other old folks in the neighborhood. He would just sit and stare. He seemed sad and angry, and I thought he was kind of creepy. No matter if I was alone or with other kids, if I got near that house, I would get an eerie feeling.

And though I knew it was rude to stare and I would feel scared, I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes off the house until I got far enough away, like the house itself would somehow get me. The old man eventually passed away and his son moved out of the house a few months later. I'm not sure if he sold the house or maybe he was forced to leave, but it sat empty for what seemed like a really long time. Anyway, in the summer of 1990, a new family finally moved in to the farmhouse, and they had a daughter my age that I'll call Jane.

She was tall, slender, with blonde hair, blue eyes and a sweet personality. The total opposite of me who was brooding, short, and chubby with boring brown hair. She was instantly popular. After her family moved in, I would see her playing with the other kids,

but I avoided her. Mostly because I was shy and kind of frightened of her because of the house that she lived in, but I'll also admit that I was jealous that Kay and Nancy were now spending all their time with the new and interesting Jane. One afternoon they were all right, riding bikes together, while I peddled around by myself at the opposite end of the block,

jealous but unwilling to invite myself over to play with them. To my surprise, Jane biked over to me on her own and said hi. It's funny. I don't know or remember exactly what was said during that introduction, but we instantly clicked and became true best friends. We were basically inseparable from that point through high school. A lot of paranormal things that happened to me during my youth were when I was with Jane inside of her creepy house,

or the surrounding yard. There are several stories I can tell you, but I will start with what I consider to be the most bizarre. It was a weekend in September, or early October of 1993, and I was spending the night at Jane's, which I had done many, many times before. This night, however, was different. because Jane's older brother had just gone off to college, so she got to move into his bedroom in the basement.

Jane and I were both really into the paranormal and would spend a lot of our time trying different things. I got pretty good at reading tarot cards. We both collected crystals, and we would read or watch anything to do with aliens, witches, cryptids, or basically anything supernatural. The only thing we didn't try was a Ouija board, but that was because I was too afraid. afraid of them, and I still have never touched one. That particular night, we were experimenting with playing records in reverse to listen for hidden messages. Jane's brother had left a bunch of them behind when you went to college, plus we had a decent

amount of our own records that we'd found at vintage stores or yard sales. Jane was a huge Beatles fan, and had all of their albums while I had a lot of 70s rock-like Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd, along with her brother's record. we had quite a selection to play with. We were in the basement bedroom, with the lights off, except for a few candles and had lit some incense while we played several different records in reverse. I guess I should state that we were both completely sober.

Other than sneaking an occasional cigarette from a parent, we never drank or did any drugs of any kind, so I know for certain that what happened wasn't the result of an intoxicating or hallucinogenic substance. Anyway, I was feeling thoroughly creeped out after listening to Stairway to Heaven backwards, so Jane suggested a switch to a Beatles album. Being such a big fan and both of us being into creepy stuff in general, we knew about the Paul is Dead theory,

and we're trying to find the supposed hidden message about it in the lyrics. We spent a lot of time messing with the Sergeant Pepper album first, and did hear some creepy things. Once we exhausted that record, we switched to the White album, and eventually the song Revolution No. 9. If you've never heard that song, it can be unerving played the normal way. Playing it backwards, though, I think it was the creepiest song we played that night. We played it several times, both forwards and backwards,

listening intently for hidden lines or messages. As it grew later and I became increasingly more jumpy from our research, I was less willing to sit on the floor by the record player, taking my turn to spin the table to play the creepy song backwards. I eventually moved to sitting on Jane's bed, flipping through a book on the paranormal I had checked out from the library, while Jane sat on the floor with her back against the bed and a crate of records on the floor between her legs,

looking for the next album she wanted to try. Revolution No. 9 was still playing on repeat as she flipped through the albums. It was on its second or third playthrough since I'd gotten on the bed when I heard Jane Gasp. I looked up from my book to see her staring at the doorway, frozen in the motion of pulling a new album from its sleeve. The bedroom had a bead curtain in place of an actual door, and the room was situated in a corner of the basement so that you could see most of the basement through the open doorway. The only area that was completely hidden from view was a small utility area where the washer and dryer and water heater were concealed by a wall. I asked Jane what was wrong, but she didn't answer,

just stared in the direction of the doorway unmoving for what felt like forever. Finally, she said that she thought she had saw something, but it was probably just her cat. She then quickly put the album in her hand and switched off the record player, roughly grabbing up the white album record and jamming it. it back into its jackets, too. I could tell something was really bothering Jane, because she was usually very careful with the albums.

But when I questioned her again, she just said that she was tired of music and wanted to watch TV before going to sleep. She had a TV in her room, so we grabbed a snack and lay on the floor watching sitcom reruns until close to 2 a.m. when we were both too tired to stay awake. Everything seemed pretty normal as Jane got into bed,

and I got comfy on the floor. Jane had a chair that unfolded into a sleeping mattress that I used whenever I spent the night, so I was very familiar with it. I fell asleep right away and must have immediately started dreaming. In my dream there was a man, very tall and thin with no hair, not even eyebrows or lashes. It was almost like he didn't have any details or color to him at all. I feel like he had a face, but I don't remember.

remember what it looked like, and I couldn't tell you if he wore any clothing or if he was just detailless all over like a Ken doll. It's like he was a blank person, except he glowed slightly, like putting an LED light into a pearly white balloon, if that makes sense. He was sitting on the floor a few feet away, and I had sat up on my mattress turning to face him. The glowing man was communicating with me, but I had to really concentrate to understand what he was saying. It reminds me now of trying to hear dialogue over the radio when the station isn't coming and clear.

It wasn't allowed sounding interference. I'm not even sure if he was actually speaking out loud, but it seemed like something was scrambling his words. I was able to understand him after some time, and he started to explain to me that the world, quote, your world, as he put it, was not how it seemed on the surface. and that if I wanted to, I could see the world for how it really was. He used a lot of words I'd never heard before or since, and I have no idea what they meant,

kind of like technical jargon, but I was able to understand the majority of what he said. The glowing man told me all I had to do to be able to see the real world was make a choice. He said the object of choice didn't actually matter, but it was the act of change. choosing, whether to live the way I had always lived or be given the ability to see the world for how it truly was. That was the important part.

It seemed really important to him that I knew the item that he was about to offer me were purely symbolic, a visual representation of choosing A or B. Then he asked me if I was ready to decide. I don't think that if I'd been given 20 days, I would have truly been ready. For some reason, this choice terrified me, more than the strange glowing man. It felt like the biggest choice I would ever face, and if I chose wrong, I would regret it forever. But I eventually did say yes. I was ready to choose. Instantly the man was closer to me, but I didn't see him actually move.

All I could see was his strange blank face and his hands, now palms up in front of me. All around us, the room had become a black void. There was a small object in the palm of each hand, and he explained that, if I chose his right hand, to the left from my perspective, then I would be awakened to the true world. If I chose from his left hand, my right, then I would continue on with my life as I knew it, unchanged from the person I currently was. I looked down to the items in his palms and saw that they were pills. The one that was to my left was an intense fiery orange-red, and the right was. was a serene greenish blue. Both of them seemed to glow lightly, just like the man.

I remember the immense fear and dread I felt about making the wrong choice. I really wanted to pick the blue-green one because it was a pretty color. Green is my favorite color, and I've always hated orange. But I was compelled to take the orange one. Even as I stared at the pretty greenish color, almost like I was longing for it, I felt my left arm moving and my left hand reached for the orange one. I remember thinking that I should choose the person. pill on the left, despite the color, because I was left-handed. A really arbitrary way to make a life-altering

decision, I know. As the fingers on my left hand made contact with the orange pill, my dream suddenly ended and my eyes snapped open. I was lying on my back on the mattress, but my head and shoulders had slid sideways onto the cold basement floor. I could remember the dream vividly, and I was so afraid that I was shivering. I called out quietly to Jane to see. if she was awake wanting to tell her about my crazy nightmare, and I thought I heard her say yes. I sat up, but it felt like I was moving in slow motion, like I was in a swimming pool with heavy weights on my limbs. As I turned my head to look at Jane, I noticed a glow. It was the same blue, white LED glow of the blank man from my dream. I looked over my shoulder. My mattress was positioned

parallel to Jane's bed so that the head and feet were facing the same direction. to see Jane still asleep, lying flat on her back. Directly above her was the head and torso of the blank man, facing down toward her, but he was coming out of the wall above her bed. This would have been impossible, not that moving through wood or plaster walls is something I would consider likely to happen, but the head of her bed was pushed directly against the cinder block basement wall, and there was nothing on the other side of it besides Earth.

There was even a tiny ventilation window a few feet away high up on that same wall, so I know for a fact that it was an outside wall and not an interior one. I called to Jane again, but she didn't move or wake up, though. It seemed like the glowing torso bending out of the wall above her tilted slightly in my direction, like it saw me. I really wanted to reach out and shake Jane awake, but I was terrified to get anywhere near that glowing man. Even though it didn't seem like he wanted to do.

to harm me in my dream. Now that I was awake, all I felt was terror. There was a menacing feeling that rolled off of him, and I'm ashamed to admit that, in my fear, I bolted upstairs, abandoning Jane to the glowing man. I hid in the bathroom for what felt like forever, but I began to shiver from cold as well as fear, and I was scared Jane's parents would find me out of bed. They were pretty strict. Plus, I felt guilty for leaving and wanted to check on her. When I finally managed to work up the courage to walk back through the kitchen and down to the basement, I remember the clock on her microwave said that it was 3.30 a.m. I tried to be quiet as I went down the basement stairs, but it was an old house, and they were very creaky.

As I was pushing the beads over at the doorway, I saw Jane sitting up in bed. I asked her if she was okay, and she said she was, but she looked frightened. She said she woke up and saw that I was gone and asked if I was a little. okay. I told her I was, but that I'd had a nightmare. She then asked me if I ever talked in my sleep before. I said yes. At least I did when I was younger and shared a room with my sister, but I couldn't say if I did it anymore. My sister and I both had occasions where we were talking to each other before bed and thought we were both still awake until something someone said was nonsensical in their sleep. Can talking in your sleep be a family trait.

Anyway, hearing that I had talked in my sleep before seemed to calm Jane down a little bit. She then asked what my nightmare was about. I didn't want to tell her, mostly because I didn't want to explain to her about waking up to see the blank torso coming out of the wall over her while she slept and then running away. But I did tell her everything. As I spoke, she got really quiet. And when I got to the part where the glowing man was looking down at her through the

wall above her head, I could see that she was truly frightened. I asked her if she'd had a nightmare too, and she said no. Jane told me that I fell asleep before her, I also snore, but it took her a while to settle down enough to sleep. Jane said that just as she was dozing off, she heard me say something, but she couldn't understand what it was. She said that she turned in my direction to see that I was sitting up and facing away from her and mumbling quietly.

She tried to get my attention, but she couldn't. After a couple of attempts to get me to wake up or talk to her, she said that she clearly heard me say, Choose one before I slumped back over onto my mattress. Jane said that she was freaked out, but she forced herself to lie down, trying to convince herself I was just dreaming and talking in my sleep. She did eventually fall asleep,

until the sound of me coming down the stairs woke her up. She never saw the glowing man, and again stated that she didn't. didn't dream anything, but she still seemed just as scared as I was. We decided to spend the rest of the night both sleeping in her bed, which was not the most comfortable as it was only a twin, but I think neither one of us would have gotten back to sleep at all if we didn't have the comfort of the other one nearby. We talked about my dream and what I saw after I woke up again the next morning, and a few

other times as well, but it didn't help either of us make sense of it. We continued to to be best friends, spending most of our time together until the 10th grade. Over the years, we had several other strange things happened to us. I think that is what eventually caused us to drift apart. As we got older, Jane wasn't as interested in the supernatural, and she really didn't like talking about our shared experiences, especially the glowing man. By 10th grade, we had completely drifted away from each other,

only sharing an occasional hello in the halls at school. Now, I know what you must be thinking, that I'm either making all of this up completely, or that I had seen the Matrix movie, or at least a trailer for the movie, and those images got mixed up in my head as part of a nightmare, and it was not anything supernatural or special. But the night I dreamt about the glowing man and choosing which pill to take happened in the fall when I was 14 years old, in 1993. According to Google, The Matrix didn't release in theaters in the U.S. until March 31st of 1999,

and the trailer wouldn't have come out until earlier that year or possibly the end of 98 at the earliest. They didn't even start shooting the movie until March of 1998, a full five years after I'd had that dream. And while, yes, the internet did exist in 1993, neither Jane or I had a computer in our homes until 95. 96 from my house, and there's a book that the movie may have been based on that was written in 1981, but I've never read it, and I didn't see the movie until I was in video rental stores. I swear by everything I hold dear that I had no knowledge of the Matrix movie or any books until after it had come out in theaters. When I saw the movie for the first time, I had rented it from Blockbuster Video,

and watched it at home by myself. When I got to the scene where Morpheus offered Neo the pills, my stomach dropped. Yes, the pills in the movie were a slightly different color than the ones in my dream. Morpheus is not a glowing, detailless man, and I definitely don't resemble Neo at all, but the scene felt way too familiar because I had already experienced it five years earlier. Though I don't have the ability to dodge bullets or fly, I'm really not athletic at all. I have felt like something inside me changed that night that I had the dream. I've always felt odd or out of step with the rest of the world,

and that feeling intensified after that night. Strange things happen too and around me all the time. Many times I have encountered entities or shadow people. I get strong intuitions about events and people's emotions on a near daily basis, and oftentimes there is a falseness. or artificiality to the world that leaves me feeling unsettled. This looming sense of dread that gets stronger every year. Welcome to bea-r-r-rail and profite.

Embarked and celebrate. Rigolet. Publié. Savouring. Admire. And profite. Via-Rai, the voice that we love. Hey, Raven.

Big fan. This story starts in 2020. It was the middle of the COVID pandemic. As a high schooler, I usually spent most of my nights gaming with friends and sleeping a few hours before online classes. The classes usually ended quickly because my professors had a hard time adjusting to the whole online thing. So, tired from the whole non-sleeping thing, I decided to go to sleep as soon as classes ended. The first time I woke up, I had a horrific nightmare.

and woke up sweating with shortness of breath. It was around 5 p.m., and I decided to try to sleep a bit more. During the second sleep, I had sleep paralysis. Nothing weird happened, but it was just a weird feeling for me, and after all that, I was still tired. Two important things for the sake of this story are that when I was 10, I was gifted a digital clock that beeped every hour. But because it got old, it's still.

started beeping four minutes later. And the second thing is that I always, and I mean always, locked my door during that time, because I have brothers and didn't want to be interrupted by them. After that sleep paralysis, I was just rolling into my bed and couldn't get to sleep. And the clock beeped at 904. In my mind, I'm thinking it's okay.

I have a long time to get back to sleep. Moments later, it beeped 10.04, then 11.04, 1204, 1, and then 204. And I couldn't get to sleep. I was a bit frustrated, but it was kind of understandable because I slept the whole evening. After a few moments, it beeped 304, as everyone who watches horror movies and scary stories, would know I was feeling a little scared. After some time, I started hearing footsteps in the hall.

That's normal because I have room next to the toilet. and I thought that one of my family members woke up and needed to go. So I hear these footsteps, and they stopped next to my door, which was very strange. But this time my heart was pounding, and I was breaking into a sweat. Then I heard my door open, and at that time I knew that something wasn't normal. I completely forgot that I had locked my door and thought that maybe my mother wanted to see if I was asleep. But something started walking towards me. I was lying facing the other side of my door, my pulse racing, and I was sweating even more.

Then when it got to my bed, it touched my hip, and I immediately fell asleep. In the morning, while I was terrified of the thing that had happened, I casually went to the toilet, but my door was locked. In the following days, I had bruises on my forearms in both hands and inner thighs. They were all bruised up like I was in a fight. And, well, that's it. Thank you for reading my story. I hope that your listeners felt the same goosebumps I feel every time I tell this story. Hey, Raven, here's a paranormal tofer for everybody.

Story one. I have crazy neighbors all over my street. Some of them are cool, and some, well, let's just say I'd rather never see again. but there's one in particular who practices black magic. She's posted about it online and her mother has complained about shadows popping up in their house. Most of the time, the magic hasn't affected me. Key word being most. It was an unusually warm night in January.

We had just gone through a monster thunderstorm and everything was quieting down. Until I heard a couple of thumps and felt my bed shape. At first I thought it was my cats playing underneath it, but then I felt a cold breeze across my face. I knew the window wasn't open and the storm hadn't messed with the roof. I didn't hear any glass break either, but the temperature was dropping rapidly. All of a sudden, then I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and suddenly I felt paralyzed, with fear, anxiety, confusion, and my body just felt weighed down by something invisible. I didn't know what was happening, but I just started praying.

I recited the Lord's Prayer, the 23rd Psalm, and told whatever it was to leave my house, and to never come back in Jesus' name. Instantly, I could move again. The room was warm and everything turned back to the peaceful quiet it had been before. However, that was not the last incident. About a month later, I was getting ready for bed. It was just a typical Wednesday night. Cold, windy, but perfectly clear.

Anyway, I was listening to one of your videos, actually, until my phone froze up. The bathroom light flickered, and then a robotic, creepy laugh started coming from behind me, and there I was paralyzed again. What do you want? I thought, and was surprised when it responded out loud. She said we could play in the neighborhood.

She loves games. For a second, I couldn't breathe. Then I spoke as firmly as I could to the entity. I said, You're not welcome here. I'm sending you back to wherever you came from in the name of the father, son, and holy spirit. You will never return. You will never address myself or my family.

Now, leave. It laughed once more. playing with the lights again and then silence. Your video resumed and I could finally move, but this time I was very tired, sad too, and I noticed the sulfuric smell on the staircase. That night I tried, but I just could not sleep. But I did throw out some holy water and epsom salt around the hole upstairs the next morning,

and thankfully I haven't encountered another demon since. I hope my neighbors still. stops playing around with demons. They're not stronger than God or as angels, but they're more powerful than we are. Unless we speak the name of Jesus, then they're afraid and we'll leave. The spirit world is not a joke, y'all. Trust me. Story number two.

I was dreaming one night a few weeks back. During this experience, I was riding in my brother's truck through a very well-known mountain trail on the west coast. I won't say the city and state to keep this semi-anonymous. But it was absolutely amazing. And I wouldn't mind moving to that region myself. But back to the story. We were playing an older country music station, windows down when my sister-in-law suggested that he stopped for gas.

He pulled over at the next exit, and we all got out to stretch our legs. Their dog, star, not the real name, a golden retriever, not her actual breed. started barking. My sister-in-law took her over to a wooded area so she could run around and do her business and just burn off some energy.

I stood back at the truck pacing around until my brother asked if I wanted something to drink. I said yes, and started floating, not walking with him to the store. Remember, this is a dream. The rest of my family, including Star, floated behind us. I reached out my arm and wrapped it around her,

pulling her close to me, and that's how we all entered the little store. Nobody seemed to be inside, but an annoyed lady who kept saying, No dogs allowed, no shoes, no service. Hello, can you hear me? At least, I thought there was no one else, until a man gently called out to me. Hey, Heather, come down to the floor. I'll get you some shoes. Looks like you guys left your shoes by your truck.

I need to talk to you. I did just that, but... Who was this? Here, Susan, quit yelling at them. I'll buy her these pink flower shoes. I just need to talk to her. He paid for the shoes and then handed them to me. I handed Star's leash to my brother and then followed the man outside the store.

Who are you? And are you planning to hurt me? I asked, feeling uneasy. No, of course not. I know you, sort of. It's complicated. You see, you've encountered me before during your dreams. We've just never talked.

You're in danger of some life-altering things happening to you. Your health, which I already know is bad, and some other things. He didn't say other things, he told me specifically, but it's extremely personal, so I won't be revealing those details. He kept going. Heather, I need you to stay strong. It will be earth-shattering, and it'll feel like your world is ending, but it's not. Your health will get worse.

much worse before it gets better. But you will get better. You'll feel like a new woman when it's resolved. He hugged me tight and then sent me back into the store and then I woke up. I wasn't scared, though. Deep down, I just knew it was true. Yes, his words have been coming true. I've cried many tears about all this mess, but I know that it'll be okay.

God has me. And as for the man, I'm not sure exactly who he was, but he did seem oddly familiar though. Two years ago, on a night in February, in Larimer County, Colorado, I was driving to a nightclub, and I was going to meet up with some of my guy friends to party

because Saturday nights are always for the boys. We would do this about every Saturday, unless one of us was busy that night. I had fun every time I went, but to be honest, I would sometimes feel pressured to go. That Saturday, I stayed most of the daytime at my grandparents' house, which was not too far from where I lived. After I finished staying there, I went home, and when I got home, I showered,

and got dressed in nicer clothes. After I did that, I put on socks and fancy shoes, grabbed my phone and wallet and car keys, walked out the front door, got in my car and then drove away. What I didn't know is that it would be my last time ever driving a car. The nearest highway from my house is only five minutes away. About 15 to 20 minutes on the highway while I was driving in the 70 mile per hour section, I saw a police car facing the opposite way on the left lane from where I was driving.

My initial thought was that he was looking to give people. people some tickets if they were going way above the speed limit. And I wish that was my thought, but it wasn't. I didn't see what was on the ground since I was driving in an SUV. I kept driving and then all of a sudden I felt the car had something really heavy. I then realized that I ran over a person. The car then started to slow down and I started to put it in park. I moved to the side and put on my hazards.

when I got to the side, I completely stopped the car, and right there, I started to have a mental breakdown. I started screaming and crying, knowing that I might have actually killed someone, but not on purpose. I actually wanted to get out of my car or even drive back to see if this person was all right. But that would be impossible to do because, one, I'd be driving the wrong way, and two, cars would be driving at nearly 80 miles per hour. and I didn't want to end up like that person. So, my next option was to call the police and report to the station. I then called 911 and connected to an operator and said what had just happened.

The operator said they already knew because an officer was radioing in what had happened. I then asked if I could meet them at the police station, and the operator told me, sure. I got to the station like ten minutes later, and I was, panicking the whole way there. I went inside and I had to fill out a form describing the incident. After that, I handed the form over to the woman at the front desk, and after I did that, she said to me that the department would be in touch over the next week, starting tomorrow.

I told them okay, and I left the station. I took out my phone to see a bit of unread messages and some missed phone calls from some of my friends. They were probably waiting for me at the club. I called one of my friends whose name is Bob, and I told Bob that I wasn't coming, and I told him the reason why. He sounded shocked on the phone and asked if I was all right. I told him that I wasn't in my right mind, that I needed to stay home for a few days. He sounded disappointed, but he understood well enough that I needed time for myself.

I got home, and I immediately crashed out on my bed. Over that entire week, I learned that the victim's name was Brent Thompson and that he was 28 years old. He got pulled over because an officer ran his tags and he realized that his registrations were expired. When the officer interrogated him, Brent gave a fake name, and when the officer found out that he was lying, he turned to confront Brett, and that's when he made a big mistake that he forever came to regret. He fled, and then jumped on to. to the interstate where I was driving.

That's when the officer tased him, and Brent fell to the ground. Seconds later, I hit Brent. I didn't see him on the ground, nor did I see the officer on the side lane, as it was pretty dark outside, and I was going fairly fast in my car. Sadly, Brent's did not survive being hit, and his family filed a lawsuit against the officer and the department who was actually a deputy. His name was Lorenzo Lujan. The district attorney determined that his actions were lawful,

and he was not charged for what he did. I wasn't charged or fined either. I've never driven a car again due to the traumatic experience on that fateful night, and now I just book an Uber or I have my friends drive me. My new construction home has always had a really weird feel. I moved in in 2018 after living in a very actively haunted townhouse. The old house had orbs everywhere, sleep paralysis, hard steps on the stairway, someone trying to

break down the door but no one was there, and the usual dark entity floating above my bed. Since I came from such a crazy situation, I was not too worried when my dog started barking at the same corner all the time, or when I felt people touch me, when no one was there. I live alone with my dogs. This experience happened when I had already been in the house for seven years. My house had been cleansed of spirits several times,

but the last lady told me, you're too close to a cemetery, so never welcome anything in. No welcome signs, no angel statues outside, etc. Make sure to always have it, least one light on in or outside the house. This particular day I had forgotten to turn on the outdoor lights and went to bed. At around 12.57 a.m., I heard my dogs barking like crazy downstairs. I couldn't hear the outdoor neighborhood dogs barking, which is usually the reason why my dog started their barking late at night. I yelled for them to stop and immediately felt something

come towards me, very quickly from downstairs. I was lying on my stomach and immediately felt paralyzed. That was weird because I was fully awake. Whatever it was got next to my bed, and I could feel it looking at me. I started praying and asking the thing to leave. I don't know what happened next before I lost consciousness. I don't remember after I started praying, but I never felt the entity leaves, so I'm not sure how long it was there that night.

When I woke up the next morning, I didn't feel it anymore. I have not slept in the dark since. That feeling was the scariest I have had in a long time, and I still don't know what it was. 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 support 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 side of things get you early access to all of my content. It is 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.