As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 228 - 18 True Scary Stories From Listeners

Episode Date: June 11, 2026

Today, on the 18 episode of the As The Raven Dreams podcast, we have 18 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 a bunch of different stories from Listeners like you! Would you like to participate in the postcard exchange? It comes with a free ATRD Sticker! Just Send a post card to the following... Lucas PO BOX 8198 Rochester, MN 55903 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 on supports it! I upload episodes every 3 days, so there are 2 days between new uploads. The podcast consists of new scary story collections, Glitch in the matrix collections, and also what I call the "Dark Dreams" collections (which are older stories, remastered and layered with rain sounds). 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 Thank you to all of the authors that have stories in todays episode... Reanette, Danielle, Tomas L, Darryl S., Crystal Hunter, Nicki M., Yammi, Tiffany from Kalamazoo Michigan, Kisu, Camaro, Britt, Lorrie, Jeff Ogden, Clinton B, Anna, Clare H As Well As Any Author That Has Requested Anonymity. TimeStamps… Ad breaks after Story 1 & Story 6 1 ➤ 1:18 2 ➤ 10:50 3 ➤ 16:30 4 ➤ 20:12 5 ➤ 23:22 6 ➤ 35:50 7 ➤ 43:29 8 ➤ 50:22 9 ➤ 53:34 10 ➤ 56:10 11 ➤ 1:00:25 12 ➤ 1:15:21 13 ➤ 1:19:43 14 ➤ 1:22:24 15 ➤ 1:24:47 16 ➤ 1:30:54 17 ➤ 1:48:17 18 ➤ 1:57:47 ----- 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. None of my audio is AI Generated, I am a real person reading real stories into a real microphone. Note: The podcast nor the host endorses any advertisements played during the podcast, ads are not chosen by ATRD or Raven Adams, they are chosen automatically by the advertisement systems by the platforms that host the podcast. I do not endorse, support, or promote any opinions or statements made in any adverts played during the show. #ScaryStories #UnexplainedMysteries #GlitchInTheMatrix Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Are you one of those media strategy people clicking through slides, scrolling spreadsheets? Yes? Good. This is for you. Because on Spotify, there's an audience that's different. Locked in. Loyal, invested. They're called fans. Fans don't just listen to music. They feel seen by it, like it belongs to them. So when your brand shows up on Spotify, that's who you're talking to. And you're right next to artists like me, Lizzo. So, are you ready to talk to fans? Spotify Advertising. You're among fans. Hey friends, I hope you are taking care of yourself.

If not, please, just take a moment today to kind of slow down if you can. Take a deep breath, close your eyes, and just, you know, just, just, just, just, just, just, just, just kind of center yourself, okay? If you can. I understand life gets hectic and you may not have the chance to immediately, but hopefully me saying this will kind of stick to your brain and you'll be able to take that moment at some point. today. I sincerely hope that you do. Today's collection of stories is kind of just a really big grab bag

of stories from listeners. Strange and scary stories from listeners like you guys. While a majority of my content is directly from listeners, whenever I say that I mean like this is just a grab bag of every possible thing you could think of. Creepy people, paranormal,

everything, so. Of course, if you would like to share your scary story if you have one. You can do so at as the ravendreams.com, or you can email me at astherravendreams at gmail.com. Both will get directly to me. All it said, friends, enjoy. This story involves my sister, who is a listener of your show too. I hope that she hasn't shared the story with you yet, and if she has, then here's the same story from my perspective, as I recall it. I grew up in a rural forest in Finland. The house where I lived was located,

at the side of a dirt road, just wide enough for one car and the dirt road led into a dead end within a forest. After the dead end, there was 30 kilometers or around 20 miles untouched forest until the next residence.

It was a really remote location, like a hut of a hermit. No people, no traffic, just us. The nearest neighbor lived a full kilometer away, or 0.6 miles. They happened to have kids who were the same age as me and my two siblings,

so my sister and I often went there to play. One winter night in the early 90s, my sister and I were getting back from a play date with this neighbor. We were nine and six at the time, my sister being the younger one. Let's call my sister Anna for this experience's sake. The sun had already set at 4 p.m., so it was pitchers. black outside.

It was quiet, as winter nights always are, so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. As we were walking towards home, from behind us, we saw a bright white light illuminating the road and us. It was really wide, too. Thinking it was a car, as the light looked like a car's headlight, I told my sister to step to the side of the road because there was a car coming. As we kept walking, no car appeared. Nothing.

We turned to look behind us after 15 seconds had passed, and the car should have already caught us, and we could only see the neighbor's yard lights from the distance. Not thinking much of this, Anna and I concluded that the neighbor probably got some visitors, as they were tightly knit with their own family circles, so having a visitor popping in was nothing unusual in their case. What was unusual was that it was 9 p.m.

And that's not normal visitation time in such remote areas without telling in advance that someone was coming. The neighbors didn't even say to us that, Hey, listen girls were going to have visitors at 9 p.m. so you have to get back home now. We thought nothing about it, and we walked back home. A week later, I walked in the yard of our home, and I can't remember why I was outside that evening. It was dark again, and I was minding my own business when I heard a clear voice in my head saying, Look at the direction of the dirt road, at the curve nearby.

I automatically turned my head toward the direction, not even questioning the voice. It was like I couldn't refuse or decide for myself if I was going to look or not. Immediately after turning my head to look at the dirt road and its curve behind the spruce trees, I saw a bright light. It went from the base of the trees up to their tops in a huge bright flash, moving unbelievably fast. It looked like a car's headlights, and I was completely baffled. Why was anyone driving on a dirt road at that time in the evening?

We never got visitors unprompted, but I still thought that it had to be a car because what else could it be? I stood there. Eyes at the spot where the light, similar to the one my sister and I had seen a week earlier, had appeared. But nothing came out from behind the trees. No car, no snowmobile, no person with an unbelievably strong flashlight.

Actually, I didn't hear a thing. From the close proximity to this light, if it was a car or anything else with an engine, I should have heard it. but I heard nothing. It was completely silent. As soon as I realized that what I was seeing was not normal, I freaked out, and I ran inside as fast as my nine-year-old little legs could carry.

I was so scared, but I pretended that I hadn't seen anything. Maybe a month later, I had left a book that I had borrowed from a library bus on the floor because I was still reading it. I can't remember its name anymore, but it was about alien abduction cases, and it featured a gray-looking alien on the cover with big black eyes. Anna, who was six at the time, saw the alien on the cover and said matter-of-factly,

Oh, I've seen one of those. My ears perked, and I asked her what she meant. There were three of them, and they waved at me, she answered. I was standing on the stairs in front of the front door, and they were up in the air. I interviewed my sister immediately. I needed to know what was going on. What did you see? Where was it?

What happened? What did it look like? Anna told me that recently she had been outside playing when she saw a light circle forming on the side of our house. The light was a slightly greenish color. As Anna turned to look behind her, she realized that the circular light was a beam of light, and it was coming from a silver craft hovering in the air. She said that it had colorful lights running around it which changed colors from green to red and orange. Anna was not surprised by this, but she went indoors.

Mind you that my sister was diagnosed with autism in her late 30s, so her behavior was unusual for a six-year-old for that. reason. Anna continued that a few days after this beam, she went outside to play again and saw a bright orb in the sky. As she watched it, it started to make all sort of funny movements. It went up, down, sideways, flew zigzag patterns, and so on. Anna said that it was funny and that she laughed, and it went on for a long time.

If I recall correctly, Anna said that. after she'd been watching it for a good while, she came back inside. Then the day when the aliens waved at her. She'd been outside again, this time playing with our German Shepherd. As she was getting ready to go back inside, she took the stairs up to our front door with the dog and was about to enter the house, when the dog started growling at something. She looked around and saw that the dog was growling at something flying in the air,

really low and near her. It was the same silver-shaped craft with the colorful changing lights running around it, which she had seen recently. The craft was so low and close that she was able to see inside it. And in its windows, there were three aliens looking like the gray alien on my library books cover. And all three of them waved at her. She waved back at them and then went inside. When Anna was indoors, she climbed upstairs and saw that the craft was hovering over our rooftop.

She didn't tell anyone or panic in any way, and I think it's because she was autistic. Now, I hear you saying that she may have made this story up, but it was her imagination. After all, she was just six. But last year, in 2025, Anna came to visit me. We're no longer 9 and 6 years old, but now 42 and 39. Anna and I now live 5 hours drive apart, so we get to meet each other twice a year or so, especially since neither one of us has a driver's license. We went to a shopping mall, and I said to Anna that I wanted to go to the specific store selling streetwear

to see if they still have the shoes that I want left in my size. So we went there. I found the shoes and as I was trying them on, Anna pointed it something on the wall opposite of us and told me to take a look. There were backpacks hanging from a hoop, which were in the shape of gray flying saucers. Like two saucers pressed against one another.

And around this UFO there was a green line mimicking its lights. In the middle of the UFO was a window and in it there was a silhouette of an alien looking straight at us with all shaped eyes. It's creepy, Anna said, staring at the backpacks. It looks exactly like the craft I saw in my childhood.

Exactly like that. Colors and all. It's like they made those bags after what I saw. It gives me the chills and I don't like it. Visit BetMDM casino and check out the newest exclusive. The Price is Right

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Hi, Raven. I've posted a story before about some weird experiences at a friend's house long ago. I decided to share another more recent story of my own, which I probably wouldn't even be writing if it weren't for what happened just a day ago. I have no idea if it's a glitch, a warning from the Matrix, a guardian angel of some sort, or just coincidence, but I don't think it's the latter. Since I can remember, I've always had a really big imagination. I've always read a lot and watched lots of sci-fi shows, and frequently I would be watching something for the first time. And just before a character speaks, a line would pop up.

into my head. Not minutes or seconds before, but literally a split second ahead of the dialogue. Most of the time it was subtle. A pause before an answer, and I would think they're going to lie, and they would. Or someone would ask, are you sure about this? And I would think we don't have a choice, only for that exact line to follow. Occasionally, though, it is far more specific. A character might look to someone in charge and ask,

What do we do now? And without actively trying to guess, a very clear thought would surface, like, kill them all, even if it's not obvious. And then almost immediately they would say that exact line. I never thought of this as predicting anything. It felt less like guessing and more like arriving at the same place, a fraction of a second early. and because it only ever happened with scripted stories,

I assumed it was just my brain recognizing patterns because of my imagination, and my brain's archive of stories that I've read and watched. That explanation worked until yesterday. I work on a hybrid-slash-remote schedule, three days at home, two days in the office every week. An office days, I usually leave at 7.45 to make it in before. 8.30. The drive is about 40 minutes at most, but traffic can be unpredictable, so I stick to that routine. Yesterday, I was ready to go unusually early by around 7.15. Normally, I would use that extra

time to make a coffee to go or spend some extra time with my husband before I go, who works from home every day. But yesterday, for no obvious reason, I felt compelled to leave immediately. It wasn't anxiety or rushing, just this insistent feeling that I should probably just go even if it's half an hour early. I got to the office just before eight, so about 30 minutes earlier than usual, as I expected. My boss looked surprised when I walked in and asked me if I got past that accident okay. I looked at him confused, the traffic was normal and I don't recall seeing any accident on my way, nor was there any standstill. Puzzled, I asked him, what do you mean, the road was fine. He then proceeded to tell me that there had been a serious accident involving a truck

on my usual route. There's an exit near our home where the quiet local roads feed into the main highway that I'm on for the last 20-odd minutes of my commute. If I'm going to work, I have to pass through it. Apparently, right at the point where I would take the exit to the main highway, there was a serious accident involving a car merging on to the highway, presumably, without checking if it was clear, straight into the front of a truck coming from behind it, who was already on the highway. My boss assumed I would be late because another co-worker who was also on that highway, the same road the truck would have been driving on, messaged him shortly before I walked in around 8 to let him know about just seeing the accident happen, and that he might be a few minutes

late due to traffic being blocked. By the way, a side note, I googled the accident, and according to the report, the car driver was severely injured, though I can't find any information on what happened after he was transported by an ambulance, or if he survived. Here's the strange thing. If I had left at 7.45 like normal, I would have reached that 6.45, like normal, I would have reached that same exit between 8 and 805, which according to my co-worker's message would mean I would find myself at the place the accident happened around the same time that it happened.

I'm not claiming anything supernatural. I don't think I predicted an accident, and I don't believe everything needs a mystical explanation, but I can't ignore the timing or the fact that something nudged me out the door early without explanation. and that potentially saved my life. And it made me rethink those moments with preempting dialogue. Was something or someone training my brain to trust its instinct that speaks before logic catches up? Would I have died if I had not listened? Anyway, thanks for sharing people's unexplained stories.

I really enjoy listening to them while I work, and I love your podcast. Well, thank you very much for listening. and sharing your story. Hi, Raven. I've been wanting to submit a weird little incident from my early childhood. My whole family talked about it for years. Still, it gets brought up from time to time, and I'm almost 50 years old now. When I was three through five years old, I had an invisible friend who I called my brother Jeff.

My parents always called him my imaginary friend, but he was very real to me. I was the only one who could see him, but I insisted everyone was aware of his presence. I insisted on holding doors open for him, setting a place at the table for him, including him in our family activities, and holding his hand wherever I went. Jeff was just a part of my toddler routine. If we went to the park, I played with Jeff. If I got tucked into bed, Jeff got tucked in too. Around this time a new mall was built in my city, so my parents took me and my baby's sister there. This was the late 70s, early 80s, so my sister was probably the first generation to be put in a car seat in the back seat of a car.

Jeff and I sat in the front seat between my parents. So we went to the mall, did whatever you did at the mall back in the 70s, and then we came back to the car. My mom opened the back door of the car and put my sister in her car seat. On the back floorboard was a little boy's wallet that nobody had seen before. It had a cowboy hat on it. I got excited and said, That's Jeff's wallet. My mom picked it up, opened it,

and there inside, on the leather in ink, was the name Jeff. It was written over and over again. Let me clarify that. imagine taking an ink pen and writing a word really hard, and then going over the lines again and again until it was very dark but not necessarily neat. I hope you know what I mean. Anyway, Jeff was written in ink on the leather. My parents were so confused.

There was nobody in our family named Jeff. The little boys in my family, my cousins and the kids my mom babysat, none of them were named Jeff. She figured it was a strange coincidence and someone dropped it in there and she never noticed. But I distinctly remember it being the only thing on the floor. I distinctly remember my mom putting it in her top dresser drawer later on, so I couldn't reach it. I distinctly remember it being there when we went to retrieve it to show our neighbor lady sometime the next day or two. Not super creepy or a glitch story, but still we're not.

weird nonetheless. I also remember that Jeff had decided he was going away once I turned five and started kindergarten, but that I had never stopped thinking about him. There was a lot of speculation as to who he was. Perhaps the baby my mom miscarried before me. Perhaps he lived in our house before we did, and had passed when he was little and his wallet was somehow in my toy box. Perhaps he really was imaginary and I manifested him so hard that his wallet was a wallet

it popped into existence. Who knows? If you share this, Raven, thank you. And if you listened to this, fellow Raven fans, thanks for listening. Hi, Raven. I don't remember if I told you this story or not, but here it is. I'm a flight attendant for a major airline, and we have a lot of ghost stories. But here's mine.

I was in a hotel on an overnight in Salt Lake City years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday. I'm an empath, so I can feel when spirits are near. I was asleep at about 4 a.m. lying on my side facing a wall. I slept with my room completely dark, and I couldn't sleep if there was any light. This is a room that had a bed next to the wall, just enough space for someone to get in or out of the bed on that side. The wall was the bathroom, and then the door to the room exiting into the hall. This just paints the picture of what the room looked like as I described what happened.

I was sound asleep, when suddenly I felt like I was being watched. I opened my eyes and there was a man standing next to my bed against that wall. I was on the open side of the bed. He had a red flannel shirt with white snaps instead of buttons. He wore a baseball cap. I couldn't see his face, but this was in the early 2000s and he strove. struck me as a trucker. There were reports of flight attendants getting attacked in the rooms frequently at that time.

I was scared and thinking it was my turn. I asked him, Who are you? I knew I was awake because my voice was shaking. I rolled over to see if anything could be casting a shadow, but it was too dark. It didn't occur to me yet that I should not have been able to see him that clearly. even the color of his shirt. I then asked him what he wanted, no movement, just staring.

I decided I wasn't going down without a fight. Someone was going to hear me scream or fight him off, so I decided to run. I had to cross his path to get to the door, but I jumped out of bed and ran to the door. I watched him the entire time and he never moved or watched me run. I was in panic mode, so nothing was clicking. yet. I got to the door and I couldn't get it open because the latches and it was dark. I reached over and flipped on the light and opened the door and then ran into the hallway. Before the door closed, it finally dawned on me what was happening.

I snuck back into the room and peeked around the corner where he was standing. Nope, gone. No one there. Needless to say, I was pretty shaken up. I finally grasped that it was an entity, not a real person. I'm actually disappointed that it hadn't occurred to me sooner. But I don't think that it would have hurt me. I feel like it was stuck in a pattern and couldn't move on. And that was my scariest moment. Thank you for sharing.

Thank you for sharing. These weird dreams occur to me on a regular basis. But here are three most remarkable ones for you and your listeners. I'm really curious to hear if any one. anyone else has the same phenomena going on. Before I go on, you need to know that my language skills are the following. Finnish as a native language, English as a native level fluent, basic conversational Japanese, which I'm currently studying, a little bit of Swedish and a few words and phrases in German.

I did study French in my teens, but have forgotten at all except a few useless phrases. Also, I have not visited any of these places where the dreams are related. The first dream that I had some years ago is very simple. I'm standing in front of one of my favorite fictional characters. He's Russian and doesn't ever speak, which he's the most famous of within the series he is from. The characters handed me a piece of folded paper with his outstretched arm. I see only the piece of paper clear. clearly. Everything around it is more or less out of focus.

Curious, I take the piece of paper and I open it. It's a small square-shaped paper, and when I unfold it, it has two words written in Russian. They're written in three Cyrillic letters, so in total there are six letters and two words. In the Cyrillic alphabet, which I don't understand. The upper word was written in a big size, and the lower word was written in a big size, and the lower word with a smaller size. I keep staring at the paper, holding it with both hands

and think to myself, I need to remember these letters. I can't read Cyrillic, but when I wake up, I want to see what these letters are and if they spell anything. I keep staring at the paper and the letters, memorizing the best way possible

until I wake up. Immediately, I open my laptop and search for a Cyrillic alphabet list. Just like I don't understand the writing system, I don't speak Russian either. So first, I need to identify the right letters from my dream, and then translate them to a language that I do understand. I'm not expecting much of anything, thinking that it's likely just gibberish that was written on the paper.

I found the letters in both words from the Cyrillic list. First words, letter and non-cerolic alphabet is V, followed by O and T. The second word I saw written on the paper in my dream spells B-O-and-I. With excitement, I typed the words into an online translator, and to my surprise, it said, This Battle. Turns out that the words were real Russian words. I talked about this dream on my blog, leaving there the Russian spelling and a few kind Russians contacted me, regarding the meaning of the words.

They said that VOT, VOT, is used in a case where there are lots to choose from, like books on a shelf, and you point at one of them and say VAT, this particular one, basically. Also, B-O-I, Boy is a plural form for a word meaning a battle, so boy literally means battles. The word for choosing something was underlined for it being written in a bigger, hand font, while the word for battles was written in a smaller font. Thus, in a very simple way, Vat-Boy could be translated as pick your battles. There are lots of battles. This one here is something to concentrate on. The emphasis on the word pick because you have to choose. You can't handle all of these battles. Back when I had this dream, I was living through a really difficult time where lots of things were going on.

And my head was trying to keep up with 15 different things at once. I had already sorted things out in a way that I understood that I can't fight against them all. And not all of them can get my undivided attention. But this dream was telling me that, no, that's not enough. Only one battle. No more. Concentrate on just the one thing now. The second similar dream happened rather close to this Russian language dream.

In that dream, I was traveling in a foreign country, in a city that I didn't know. A woman collapsed on the street near me, so I rushed to her and called for an ambulance. Because I didn't know where I was, and the ambulance needed directions in order to find this woman, I hastily looked around me to find anything that I could use as a guidepost. like a landmark or a shopping mall or a store or cafe. I saw on a brick wall a street sign, which said in my own language, Po River Road 5.

After waking up, I couldn't stop thinking about the street sign. Why was it so clear? Usually when I see words in a dream, they're foreign words, and they always end up meaning something, like in that folded paper with the Russian writing dream. But a street sign in my own language? I sat in front of my laptop and first made my mind to find out if there actually exists a river named Poe somewhere. If so, I wanted to see if it ran through or near any big human settlements.

And, if so, then I would want to Google to see if I could find a street address with the river's name on it. A quick googling gave me the answer. The River Poe actually exists, and it's in Italy. It's most famous for running through Torino. Torino is a big city with the population over 850,000, so my chances of finding a street with a name of Poe in it were high. Whether it was a Poe Street, Poe Road, or Poe Lane, it should be able to find it. Sure enough, I found for it. from Torino a street called Via Poe, literally Road Poe, like in my dream.

At this point, my heart started to beat a little fast. Would there be an address of Via Po 5, or Road Po 5 like in my dream? And if so, what would I find from that location? I typed into Google Maps, Via Po 5, and hit enter. The map pinpointed me to the right location, and I dropped the map into a street. for you at that spot. It was a nice cobblestone street with tram tracks running in the middle, and both sides of the streets were surrounded by identical cream-colored buildings. On the street level, the building housed businesses, and on top of them, in two stories, were privately owned homes.

The entry into these stores was under a long canopy, which was built into the buildings, and the way to the canopy from the street went through these arched entryways. It was very idyllic and cute. You can check that yourself, if you like. I started to click on the business names around the stop where I was virtually standing in that spot in Italy. There was an antique store, but its street number was seven. A clothing store, Natura, but its number was two. A cafe called University Cafe Bar, but its number was four.

For a moment, I felt like the Viapo 5 address wouldn't have anything else but an entrance to private residential homes. But then I clicked on the icon of a store and it said Viapo 5. I took a closer look at this, eyes wide. It was a woman's clothing store with the name Nekithpa. Nekeet pa. Well, that was Italian. and I don't speak it, but I was surprised to see that it was an actual Italian sentence. Not anything which I could decipher, like the store called Natchira or the Cafe University I had just seen.

Again, I went for my trusted online translator and typed Nekitpah. The translation was, don't quit. I was shocked. What are the chances that I have a dream with a literal actual address, and when I go to that address in this real world, there's a message for me asking me to just keep going. To have such a dream during a really, really difficult period, when I felt that nothing was worth at all,

nothing was ever going to work out because it had not worked out yet either. In a very short period of time, I had had two dreams with personal messages. Pick your battles, and don't quit. As a bonus, without going into too much detail, here are other dreams that I have had with words ending up meeting something when I googled them. I was married to an Arab prince and we went to a shopping mall called Sif. When I googled, there's a shopping mall called Sif in Bahrain. Only one letter difference.

And I've never been to Bahrain. Also, in this dream, I saw a crying woman with a child. She was crying because she was poor and didn't know where to get her. money. I was really rich myself, so I gave her money and told her, Allah has told us to look after one another, so please take this. When the mother didn't know how to thank me, I said, Allah brought us together today for this purpose. There's no need to thank me. I'm not Muslim. I don't know about Islam or Allah. I've not read the Quran, and I don't know any Muslims yet, somehow. The concept of Allah asking to do good deeds to others appeared in my dreams.

I also had a dream where a man named Eakin came to visit me, telling me that he was from Andalusia, until he revealed himself to be a demon named Aco. When I googled these, Ekin means a horse lord or a brown horse in Gaelic. Andalusia, where the man in the dream was from, is famous for its horses. And Aco was a nine-tailed fox demon from Japan. In another, I was a young man in England. World War II had just broken out two weeks prior. I had just enrolled a month prior to the military to serve in the British Air Forces.

My buddies in the Army called me Tiffy. When I searched Britain World War II Tiffy after waking up, I found out that during World War II the British Army invented a single-seat bomber plane called the Hawker Typhoon, which in the RAF slang was called Tiffy. In another, my neighbors had gotten puppies and I went to, to see them. There was a puppy called Leah, a hairless Mexican dog, and she was so cute. In the dream, her breed was called the Shalot. When I again woke up and googled a Shalot dog breed, I found out that the Mexican hairless dog breed is called Shalow, but the Aztec's god of death

with a head of black dog like a Nubis is called Shlote. What's even more remarkable, these hairless Sholo dogs are his messengers, and he too can take the form of this dog. In another, I came across a dog on the street. She was wearing a collar saying that her name is Malini. Sure enough, when I googled this unknown word, I found a meaning to it immediately. It's one of the names of the Hindu goddess, Durga. And lastly, I had a customer who was paying with a currency called VoIP.

When I woke up and googled it, it turns out that there's a financial app named VoIP, and thus the word is indeed related to money. Good morning, Raven. I'm a big fan of your show and appreciate your genuine humility. I have no idea if this will fit into your structure, but use it as you see fit. I will. Years ago, I was fortunate enough to play in the NFL. With the Super Bowl coming up, I felt this was an opportune time to submit.

an instance that makes me feel like I've been living in a simulation. I was reminded of my first experience while writing my book a couple of years ago. My book, Tackle Life Head On, is less about football and more about how average me got to live out a statistically unlikely dream. To provide more context, you would never look at me and believe I played football. I do not fit the generalization in any way. I was not a superstar in high school, and zero coaches offered me a chance to play for their university. For your listeners who may not follow American football, that is the typical path.

So, I attended a community college where I pole vaulted for their track team for my first year. After some persuading, a small college allowed me to try out for their team for my sophomore year. After sitting on the bench for two years, I finally got a chance to play a play a little bit of my sophomore year. as a senior. Fortunately, I was able to make the most of it and put up some good statistics. I did well enough that the Dallas Cowboys invited me to try out for them, which essentially means to be a tackling dummy during their training camp. So, over the course of one year,

I went from barely playing a tiny farm town college to the world's most valuable sports franchise. Needless to say, I didn't feel like I belonged. I felt more like a fan, someone who was in awe of the other players. Going into that preseason, we had 13 wide receivers on the roster, most of whom had NFL and big college experience. They would only keep four of us once the season officially began, so in my mind I felt like a fan who was afforded the chance to see the inner workings of professional organizations. And I would just focus on having fun and not getting my head ripped off.

After all, the probability is just too small. Well, it turned out that I was one of the four receivers the Cowboys kept. This backstory leads me to my unusual story. I took part in a Bible study that a player would host on our only day off, Tuesday. This particular week, our host brought along a guest speaker. She was a heavy-set black woman from Louisiana with the most beautiful eyes and smile. When she sat down, you couldn't help but be captivated by her. She commanded attention from everyone in the room.

Our host stood up, prayed, and then introduced our speaker. She was a Christian psychic. To this point in my life, I had never heard of such a person, and didn't even know if it was very Christian-like. As she sat there, she informed us that she'd be going around the room and sharing what God was showing her. Needless to say, I was very intrigued by this idea. I became increasingly more nervous as I heard her share God's vision with my teammates. It took her about an hour to work her way around to me.

I could feel my face getting flushed when her eyes finally settled on to mine. Then, a very warm and gentle smile began to come across her face. As she slowly nodded her head side to side, she reminded me of how a nurturing grandma would look at her grandchild. The first words out of her mouth were a loving, Child, you're a peculiar one, very peculiar. Not the most flattering of things to hear, but they were spot on. As I nodded in agreement, I was still a little skeptical as anyone could look at me and assume I don't fit the standard mold of the football player. She continued to tell me how I danced to the beat of my own drum and was set apart to be special.

What she'd said next is when she lost all credibility with me. In her soft Cajun accent, she continued. Child, I see you running on the field. God is hovering over you like a father does when, his child is learning to walk. You're running with confidence, knowing that if you should stumble, God will catch you. You're smiling and laughing, will tempting gravity to knock you down. You'll break records, child.

Yes, you're Mr. Peculiar. The psychic's words were very sweet and endearing. However, she didn't know anything about football. Her words, not mine. And she definitely did not know anything about me and how I scratched and just to make the team. How I wasn't even invited to play for a university. How I sat on the bench until my senior year.

I could imagine God laughing right alongside me. Like I stated earlier, I hadn't thought about that Bible study until I was writing the chapters about the unusual things I experienced in the NFL. It was during this time that I realized she was right. I was able to establish five records during my career, I'm not famous, and I'm sure no one listening would know who I am.

But apparently the psychic had a unique vision of my future. I understand that this can easily be chalked up to coincidence, and I get that. It's just hard for me to believe this timeline that I'm on. For a woman to claim that she receives visions from God and has been called to share a glimpse of my future with me, seems to be more than a coincidence. The other aspects she didn't know were that I was born with crippled feet. I learned to walk with braces still on my legs. Imagine Forrest Gump running down his driveway in the braces.

If that wasn't enough, I suffered from severe asthma. These ailments are not ideal for someone whose job it is to sprint down the field and catch footballs over and over again. But she felt that I would have success, and that God would be watching. over me the whole time to pick me up when I fall. I've been diagnosed with degenerative brain disease due to the concussions I sustained while playing football, which led me to write my book. I donate the profits to foundations that research traumatic brain injuries. If any of your listeners are interested in a copy, they can send me a message on my

Instagram at Jeffrey underscore Ogden 212. For the listeners that don't like football, I speak about my experiences on dating reality shows, Netflix, and other crazy things that I would have never imagined occurring. Thank you for your time, Raven. Have a fun Super Bowl weekend. And even though I never played for them, go Seahawks. This spring, denim gets a softer, lighter update. Introducing Old Navy's drapey denim wideleg, a new fit that moves that moves. moves with you. It's everything you want denim to feel like for summer. Easy, breathable, and effortlessly cool. With a fit that creates natural movement and a wide leg that feels modern, not overwhelming. Plus, that signature, wait, for this price, moment.

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Hello. I have a story to share with you. It's not NDE, but it's something that I want to share with you. Basically, since childhood, I've always believed in. God. I tried to follow religious traditions, like not eating meat and things like that. I was also fascinated by paranormal phenomena. I believed in magic, and I still believe that aliens exist. As time went on, I started believing more and more in paranormal things. I even watched a Russian TV show about people with extrasensory abilities and honestly believed it was real, although much

later I discovered it was all staged. One day while watching the show, I started thinking about God. I wondered, is God really what we think he is? Maybe aliens created us as some kind of experiments. What if we were created by aliens, then wouldn't they be our gods? In one of those TV shows, they mentioned something historical. I don't remember the exact details, but they were talking about how the beings of ancient Egyptians called gods, the ones with the animal heads might actually have been humans who

traveled back in time and stuff like that. It's a lot to explain. So, as I was watching the show and questioning what God really is, I remembered a Bible story my dad once told me. Jesus performed a miracle. I can't recall exactly what it was, but I think he resurrected someone from the dead. And yet people still didn't believe he was who he said he was. Then, for some reason, while I was walking to the kitchen, I stopped in the middle of the room,

looked into the corner and thought, I'm not that stupid. I'm ready. Give me a sign. Give me a sign that answers my question about God. It felt like I was issuing a challenge. Give me a sign that cannot possibly be explained by science. If aliens are our gods, then kidnap me, show me the universe, and since they can supposedly travel through time, bring me back during the same night so no one notices I'm gone.

And please, don't do any experiments on me. If God is who we think he is, and there really is a higher power, then find a way to give me a sign that cannot be explained by science. Don't put me in a coma. Don't show me a light at the end of a tunnel, and don't do anything that would make the people around me worry because science always tries to explain those near-death visions as just neurons firing or something like that.

Then I kind of laughed at myself and thought, yeah, like that's going to happen, and went on my day. About two weeks later, it happened. I went to take a shower. I'm usually lazy and don't wash my feet, but that day I remembered another Bible story my dad told me about the woman who washed Jesus' feet. So I decided that this time I would wash my own feet properly. I had already stepped out of the bathtub, so to wash them, I put one foot. foot on the edge of the tub, and I washed my right foot first and accidentally hit the nearby sink pretty hard with my knee. I checked it to make sure nothing was wrong, especially because my dad

had said the sink was barely holding on and we should fix it someday. I wiggled it a little to test it. Everything seemed fine. I put my right foot back on the ground, lifted my left foot onto the edge of the tub, and started washing it. Right as I was about to use the soap, strange things began to happen. It felt as if time stopped. I couldn't move at all. I can only move my eyes. The light seemed to dim and I couldn't hear any sounds and I thought, am I dead? No, maybe not. It seems like time has stopped. Why don't I hear the water anymore? Okay, I'll just go with this and see where it leads. It doesn't feel like a heart attack or anything. And then it felt like my back straightened, though I couldn't I couldn't see my body.

That's when I thought, okay, I'm not dead. Next, I started to turn, or rather I was forced to turn. I still couldn't move voluntarily. It was like watching a movie. I got a bit annoyed and thought, hey, this is happening to me. At least let me move my eyes. Suddenly I was able to fix my gaze on the stream of water.

I could see all the droplets hanging motionless in the air, and that's when I said to myself, Okay, time has definitely stopped. Eventually, my gaze reached the sink. It seemed like I took a step back from it. I saw the sink tilt forward about 45 degrees, and then snap and teleport back to its original position. I asked, is it going to fall?

And I kid you not, I got an answer. Yes. I just replied, okay? That voice felt strangely familiar. I couldn't place it exactly, but it felt, I don't know, comforting. Now I think it might have been my grandpa's voice. He passed away years ago. As soon as I said okay, the whole sequence started happening in reverse.

I could fix my eyes in the water again, but this time the droplets were a bit lower, so I realized time wasn't frozen. It was just moving extremely slowly. When I returned to my original position, the lights came back to normal, sound returned, and I opened my eyes, or at least it felt that way. I was shocked by what had just happened, and I started to panic a little. But then in a split second, I remembered the sink might fall soon. I looked at it, and I took a step back. Then the sink fell.

I closed my eyes when it was mid-air, tilted at about 45 degrees. Which is crazy because that's exactly what I had seen earlier. And one more thing, the sink fell exactly where my foot had been. Shards flew all around my feet, but not a single one touched me. If I hadn't seen that vision and stepped back, I would still have been standing there with my right foot in place. I wouldn't have had time to react, and the sink definitely would have crushed my foot. Think of this what you will, but I believe that this was the sign that I asked for. Since then, I've never doubted God.

I listened much more carefully to people who share stories about near-death experiences, past life regression hypnosis, and similar things. This happened more than a few months back. Let's set the scene. It was a weeknight and late. My fiancé had been snoozing for quite a while, along with our main coon cat and Kedu. I could hear their rhythmic breathing. Their peaceful sounds slowly beckoning me to bed.

I had been up and wired from work, and I had to wind down from the workday. I was in the bathroom, primping and preening, facing the mirror with my back to the door and listening to one of the YouTube channels that specializes in true horror, camper stories, and so forth. The door pops slightly open, and I think it's the cat wanting to play or be brushed. But as I'm looking into the mirror to see what or who is, at the now slightly open door, I'm confused. No cat, no girlfriend, but what I do see scared me,

but only because it was jarring and unexpected. From my point of view looking into the mirror, I see a well-formed child's face, peek its head in the crack of the door, and look at me. It's gray and whitish and bluish as well, but it's clearly a child's face and head. The face is small and the eyes have an almost East Asian quality to them. He's looking at me from the top corner opening where the door and wall would meet.

There's no body, just a small child's head. He, within a few seconds, realizes that I can see him, and just as quickly as he appears, he pulled his head back around the corner. It was just like something a living little kid would do if they realized that they were caught spying on an adult. My mind questions what I saw, and I run out of the bathroom to see if he's still there, or if my girlfriend was awake and saw him as well. There's nothing in the room, or at least visible to my naked eye.

I look at my lady, and she's oblivious to it all still sound asleep. My cat is now stirring, but as far as little ghost boys go, nothing. I get into bed on edge, but at the same time I didn't feel threatened at all by the child. In the morning, my fiancé and I discuss what happened, and at first she tells me that I was tired or just saw shadows. I describe the child and am adamant that this happened, and her guess is that it's her deceased brother who had physically passed at two years old in the year 2001. She shows me a photo in the face is a perfect match. Her mother, after leaving her father, married a Filipino man and the little boy was the product of their marriage. Same hair, same face shape, and same eyes.

I have had more visits from him as well, and we'll describe those in detail at a later date. Hi, so I told this story on my YouTube channel, Anna speaks out a while back, but I would love for it to be read here as well. When I was pregnant with my first child, who's now almost four years old, I experienced what seemed like one of the most realistic and vivid dreams that I have ever had. I now think, however, that I may have actually been awake in a very surreal reality. In the middle of the night, I found myself lying on my back in my bed, in my real-life bedroom, set up the exact same way as it usually was. Somehow, I just knew that there was a dark presence in the room with me without seeing or hearing anything.

For whatever reason, I also had basically an inner knowing that, in order to deal with it, I had to get up and stand in front of my closet mirror. I didn't know why. I just knew that that was what I needed to do. I didn't even stop to contemplate whether or not to do it. It was kind of like being in a perfect flow state. state, knowing what needed to be done and basically simultaneously acting on it. When I attempted to get up, however, I felt the very heavy weight of something that felt as though it was sitting on my chest, attempting to hold me down.

It wasn't the weight of the baby in my belly, it was a lot more intense than that. I summoned all of my strength and determination and managed to get up from under the weight out of my bed, and I slowly, slowly staggered towards my closet that had mirrored doors. I still didn't see or otherwise notice any sign of anything, but I definitely felt a nefarious spirit there. Bracing myself in front of the mirror, I yelled out, straining a bit to get the words out, while under the intense stress of the situation,

I'm not afraid of you. I command you to leave, in the name of Jesus. I really honestly don't remember much after that, but I know that nothing else bad happened, and I was apparently free of the dark, oppressive spirit. Definitely the most intense supernatural experience that I've probably ever had. This is something that happened to my friend and her friend, who was also her classmate, when they were in their teens.

I'll call my friend Janie and her friend Laura for privacy reasons. and also to make listening to this story easier should this end up on your podcast. Janie and Laura were 15 at the time, and like I said, classmates. They had been classmates since the first grade and knew each other well. Janie had been recently getting into spirituality and the occultism, out of curiosity, so topics like angels, manifestation, crystals, taro, and such interested her. She openly told Laura about these topics, and Laura was also open and curious about these matters. And she never judged Jane Ear said anything bad about her interests.

Quite the contrary. When the topic of angels and how they can help us and give us answers came up, Laura took it very seriously. One day at school, Laura was being very cranky. She was upset because she didn't have a boyfriend yet. She was 15 already for heaven's sake. Surely she should have already met someone. Why was she still single?

With all the might and heartbreaking sadness of a teenage girl yearning for love, Laura was in a really bad mood the whole day. She just kept asking in repeat. Angels, where's my boyfriend? Why am I still single? I want my boyfriend. Where is he? This went on and on.

and the longer the day went by, the more desperate and even angry Laura got. Janie tried to calm her down and say that surely Laura would find someone sooner or later. They were only in their teens, but Laura was absolutely certain that she was doomed and would never find anyone, that she would end up living as a crazy cat lady without anyone if she doesn't find a boyfriend soon. Laura was certain that the angels Janie had spoken about, surely knew where he was. or why she was single. And since Laura didn't seem to get any answers from the higher realms for her sad heart, she just kept repeating the questions.

Angels, where is he? Where is my boyfriend? I want him now. Where is he? On that particular day when Laura was being cranky, a genie had promised to come and spend time with her after school. The sad whining and complaining, closing to a tantrum, over this desire for a boyfriend, which had started as soon as the school day had begun, just continued after school. The whole way Janie and Laura walked to Laura's home after school, Laura kept whining at the angels about her lack of romantic life, demanding answers.

At her home, Laura continued the same complaining like a broken record and didn't stop no matter how much Janie tried to console her and say that it was all right, and that Laura can't just blackmail higher spirits with this tantrum. No, Laura complained. I need to find my boyfriend. Angels, why aren't you answering me? Give me a sign.

Suddenly, the girls heard how the mail hatch on the front door to Laura's home slammed. They went to check and noticed that a freebie newspaper had just been delivered. The newspaper was a Lutheran newspaper mailed to all the members of the congregation. On its cover, with huge letters it read, Time to stop, we've had enough of this. Laura immediately fell into silence and didn't even squeak about her lack of love anymore that day or after that. Later in life, Laura married and had children,

so that lack of a boyfriend wasn't an issue at all. And someone on the other side heard her complaining, seemingly loud. and clear. Hi, Raven. I've been listening to your channel for several years now and appreciate the stories. It got me thinking

about some experiences in my own life that are highly unusual and I wanted to share. This one is about a recurring mystery cat. This happened when I was 11 to 12 years old, in the early 1980s.

I grew up in Brooklyn, New York, in a semi-attached house, in a vast neighborhood full of the same. same style homes. Driveways from the sidewalks to backyards with garages. A small backyard with the fence separating the next house like a mirrored copy. So imagine all the houses facing the street with shared backyards as an open meadow

down the center line of each street. Fences separated people, but cats move freely over under and around. They're not bound by fences. And to them, the whole interior of the bulls. block was their open domain. We had three pet cats, and they were indoor-slash-outdoor cats, meaning they would come and go as they pleased. This was normal for those times in our neighborhood.

Many people just let their cats out during the day, ours always returned back by dinner time just waiting around for us to let them in. There were some stray cats in the neighborhood as well. And if you left food out for them, They just stayed around your house, and eventually the cats would get familiar enough, trusting enough, that you could just let them in the house to eat and sleep. That's how you got a pet cat back then. Adoption was more like a mutual agreement between us and the cats.

But, you see, they were also independent and could leave any time if they chose. My sisters and I just invited the strays in, they stayed, and became our pets. My dad loved the cats, and my mother tolerated this reluctantly. She was not happy, but accepting about our pets. On the last day of school, when I was 11 years old, we arrived home from school to find that our three cats had another cat hanging out with them, all waiting by the front door to let them in for dinner. That's right, they had brought home a friend. The new cat was huge.

A jet black male cat, very alpha-couac. confident, just walked right in the house with them, over to the food bowls with them and started eating. He was a beautiful cat, large and brawny with a relaxed strength and bright, intelligent gold eyes. He was just eating food snuggled in close with our pets like he belonged there, and they easily slid to make room for him. No challenges or squabbles, just accepting him, feeling happy to have him there, all purring. Our cats loved him. My sisters and I just watched amazed.

Who was this mysterious guy? And after he finished eating, he contentedly walked over to us to meet and greet. He bumped our legs and had a deep warbling feline vocal meow, loudly purring, letting us pet him, just very charming. We instantly loved this cat. He had no collar, but he was clean and healthy and seemed like he wanted to be a part of our family.

But my mother knew better, and told us that although he was a magnificent cat, he was healthy, looked well fed, and probably must have belonged to somebody. And we needed to put him back outside. So we played with him for some time, and he really was the most loving and friendly cat,

but then we put him back outside. He didn't protest or fight, just allowed himself to be picked up and placed outside and walked to. away, for now. About half an hour later, we were in the living room watching TV, and the same cat jumps up on the open window sill, looking at us, and then jumps down into our living room, walks around greeting us.

My sister and I were overjoyed to pet and play with him again. My mother, looking a bit astonished, told us again that he's not ours. We're not taking in another cat. My sister and I had taken in strays, and my mother was not very happy about having the three cats. We pleaded that he wanted to join our family, and we should keep him. My sister had already named him Puba, and we begged to keep him, and he seemed like he wanted to stay.

My mother insisted, and also, since we were leaving the next morning on vacation to Canada, we have a lake cottage in Ontario, and we always drove there and stayed for two months every summer. We surely could not take some strange fourth cat with us. My mother was reluctant with three cats we already had, so she had us put Puba back outside. I was packing my duffel bag for our vacation an hour later when I heard girlish laughter and squeals of joy for my sister's room, where Puba had climbed a tree, walked along a branch, dropped down onto the lower roof, and jumped into my sister's room through her open window. It was early summer.

This was now the third time this massive and charming cat asserted himself into our home. And at this point, we argued with my mother that clearly he must be a part of our family now. With a narrow-eyed skeptical expression, my mother reluctantly agreed. For a cat to be this bold and persistent, who could deny him? My dad was very amused and had been rooting for Puba, saying, that he wanted a free trip to Canada. And it was pretty funny, but also an interesting timing for this big fella to show up the day before our trip.

I should also mention that our cats simply adored Puba. We had two males and a female, and they all just accepted him as the boss, giving way around food bowls, moving out of his way smoothly and with consent, not the slightest hint of challenge. The whole thing was comedic and theatric. and we loved this new guy barging into the scene in our lives.

So, the next morning we packed up the family station wagon, four cats as well, and drove the ten hours from Brooklyn, New York, north to a small lake house on the Rideau Lake area of Ontario, where our family had been vacationing since the 1950s. And so, the new cat enjoyed a nice two-month-long summer, part of the family, part of our gang of three-country. cats, now making four. And what an awesome summer he had. From a city cat in Brooklyn to a country cat in Canada.

Puba was like an inmate released from prison. He was an extreme hunter. We always had food bowls out for our cats, but they foraged and hunted as well. And Puba was the best rodent ninja ever. He would stalk and catch

and eat all manner of mice, birds, squirrels, chipmunks, snakes. I even saw him catch sunfish out of the lake, somehow instinctively knew how to eat around scales and bones. This cat was a killer. He thrived, and he grew even larger, and stronger, but always was sweet and friendly with us.

He enjoyed being a pet, and climbing into our laps, and he was the most charming and pleasant cat I have ever known. And that's how he enjoyed the summer of 1982. When summer ended, we locked up the house and drove back to Brooklyn and then unpacked the car. The cats hung around inspecting and reestablishing their home territory. Puba stayed around with us that night, but in the morning when we let the cats out for the day, he went out with the pack and did not return. That's it.

He just showed up for a vacation, spent the whole summer two months with us hunting, fishing, and enjoying the fresh country air, and then ghosted. We searched around the neighborhood calling his name, kept an eye out for him for weeks afterwards, expecting him to show up, but he was simply gone. We would tell stories about him, remembering his very loving and friendly presence, the kind of cat that would let you hug him and pick him up, purring and enjoying all human contact. So it was strange to just show up so suddenly and then leave again just as suddenly. Was he real or imagined? But we as a family of five all experienced it, and then exactly to the date, the following summer, the last day of school when we were heading up to Canada the next morning, as per usual,

my sisters and I got home from school and look who it is, waiting for us to get home and let them into our house. It's our three cats and our mysterious stranger, Puba. He's back, just as large and handsome, with golden shining, eyes, a deep and hearty meow brushing up on our shins easily slipping back into the pack with our cats, as if he had never left. And of course, we were overjoyed that he was back. It looks like this cat wants his annual Canada vacation. My parents just laughed and shook their heads, like now I've seen everything.

And so, another two-month summer in Canada. Free food, shelter, good company, hunting and stalking his prey, land, sea, and air creatures were all on his menu. The city cat was once again free to roam the country woods. Once I intervened when he saw a chipmunk, picking him up and pulling the terrified creature away from him, and he rewarded me with one single claw dug into my forearm. A sharp, deep puncture to remind me that, friendly though he was, he was still his own person, and not to be manhandled.

I learned my lesson. He was here by his own consent and would not be ruled by force. This mystery-bold fellow of a cat had such a presence, a loving charm that you couldn't help but be impressed by him. Puba would just sit there tucked neatly in pose, looking around at the scenery, the beauty of nature, sniffing the air as of tasting the finest of wines. And that's also how we felt when we drove north from the cramped-up city dwelling

in a massive borough of New York, concrete, noise, traffic, exhaust. You could hear your neighbor sneeze. You could hear them flush toilets or have arguments, and the TV shows. And then we went to the country air in a town of a 300 population along endless lakes with nature and wildlife all around. This cat, Puba just shows up twice. It was hilarious, but also there was an element of something else

that often had us talking and wondering. When the summer was over, we packed up the car and the cats and drove back to Brooklyn. The cats, once again, mingling amongst themselves around the house and re-exploring their domain. This time, Puba hung around only for a little while, rubbing up against us, meowing his loud, deep feline, throaty meows, and purring goodbyes. He mingled with our cats a little more, bumping cheeks as cats do, and then just simply walked away without looking back, and we never saw him again.

Some thoughts and items to point out, this cat was a black tabby and was huge, short hair, no stripes, not huge like a main coon, but as large as a tabby can get. He was probably about three to four years old, full-grown, muscular, but not to the age where they had put on fat

to get a saggy belly. He had the wide cheeks of an Alpha Tom cat used to getting his way, but was very gentle and kind with our three cats. even the males, never bullying or being pushy, and they genuinely accepted him like they were happy to have him and deferred to him with joy and not force. This cat was very smart.

He enjoyed holding direct eye contact for a long time and was not shy or skittish, not a flincher. When he looked around, it was with a confident in commanding slow sweeping, steady head rotation, not a jerky spasm as you would see in a cat used to fear and fronelsior. right. He moved with a confident swagger. At his pace, even when he sat down or laid down in any pose, he moved with intentions, as one who isn't going anywhere anytime soon. Like, this is where I'm going to sit, and I'll be here for as long as I feel like it, rather than something

half-startled ready to run. With regards to his hunting and treatment of woodland creatures, for this, I can only share our amazement. Cats are hunters. well-designed and they're cruel and that's nature. We just watched and had to admire this cat acting on instinct. Our other cats would chase small creatures. Sometimes catch them and sometimes leave gifts as per most cats, but very casually Puba was like the Navy SEAL or Speck-Ops of the cat world. He was like a stalking sniper, lying quietly, creeping,

intense for long hours around the property. and then he would explode with fierce speed and accuracy. He was extra. Time and placement, none of us had ever seen this cat before. We knew all the usual local cats by sight, even had names for the strays, and we knew our neighbor's cats. Puba was a stranger. We didn't even see him during the year in between,

so where did he come from and where did he go? It's a mystery. I'd like to call it a glitch in the Matrix because I've never seen a pet act with such intention. There's lore and fable that cats are reincarnated soul vessels for some higher power of intelligence. Based on many goofy cats we've had over the years, I wouldn't agree,

except for just this one huge, fine specimen of a cat. The most interesting cat that owned us as his pet for two consecutive summers, and then moved on in his cosmic journey. This happened to my girlfriend and I a few years back. I've shared it on Reddit, but not anywhere else. It's 100% true, and it involved a ghost kitty saving the day. Trust me, I know it sounds absurd, but we both swear 100% that this occurred as written. I and my girlfriend, since moving in together, have had numerous encounters with the paranormal.

These are for the most part seeing our deceased pets, hearing meows, feeling fur walk against our legs, and hearing my deceased Lassa Opso scratching her ears. The most intense incident for me was when I was looking into the bathroom mirror and seeing my brother's younger brother, who unfortunately drowned 19 years before this incident, floating behind me and watching me from the bathroom door. I've posted stories about my meeting her brother, about our cats and dog, and also posted a video on a ghost sub-rattit, which clearly shows ghostly phenomena in our home. This is all true. I would be and was skeptical myself before these amazing incidents. But on with the incident. It was an early morning, and we both had work that day. I woke her up and then told her that I was going to go to the 7-Eleven, and I was going to go to the 7-Eleven, and,

and that I would be back shortly. She tells me that she'll be showering when I'm gone, and don't be alarmed if I tried to call her for one reason or another, and she doesn't answer. Easy enough, right? Well, I walk outside into the cool, dark morning air. I made it quickly to my car, and I sat in it while I ran the heat staring at our large 110-year-old apartment.

I noticed a door open where I thought the boiler room would be. It's cracked at first and then opens completely. I saw no one but figured it may be a homeless person waking up to see who was leaving the lot. But at the same time, didn't want to give away his sleeping spot and was ducking behind the door as a means to stay hidden. I think nothing of it. I drive to 7-Eleven, get whatever the hell I was intending on getting, and then drive home. I walk upstairs and open hour door to find my girlfriend in a towel on the bed, and she's visibly shaken.

I immediately know something's wrong, but was quite shocked at what she told me. She was in the shower, and all of a sudden, the light on the room decreased as if someone had a dimmer switch. At first she thought it was her eyes playing tricks on her, but it happened again and then again. It was as if the light bulb was being covered up. or slowly blotted out. She starts getting upset and senses a negative presence in the room coming toward her. A split second later, our cat, Echo, who at the time had been non-corporial for two years, appeared on the bathroom floor and screeched and yowled.

As soon as he did this, the light immediately went back to normal. The negative presence was gone, and she felt safe, but still very, very, very strong. unnerved by the whole incident. Long story short, we both concluded that this dark spirit was waiting for me to leave, watching me from the door than I thought was to a boiler room. I didn't see anyone holding it open because it was being done so by a ghost. The room I thought it led to also wasn't what I thought it was. It was a walled-off room with no access from the inside of the apartment.

Every other time I checked that door, it was also locked. Later on in that same month, we both left early and while standing outside before getting into our car, felt like a negative force was watching us from around the back corner of the apartment. As soon as we both said how we felt we heard echo yowl and scream again, this time at the same back corner of the apartment. After this, we knew that the dastardly coward ghost would never be able to pother us again. This person shared a number of stories with me.

Most of them were glitched, but this one was a cryptic experience they wanted to share as well. This is the last story from them for the day, and it's the most unbelievable and recent. Their words, not mine. This happened to me two years ago in Northern Michigan. At that time, I worked third shift in a factory about an hour away. The drive there was a peaceful country drive, mostly dirt roads and farms. It was dark on the road. way home that time of year and I was about halfway home.

I was pulling up to a stop sign near a tiny old church when something walked out in front of me. It looked like a wolf bear human hybrid. It was about ten feet tall. If it had fur and it looked like it did, it was very short and slick. Its ribs stuck out. The face was kind of like a pit bull shape and it's. Its arms were very long like it ran on all four. As I passed the sign warning that a stop sign was ahead, it just casually strolled across the road.

It walked slowly on two legs like it was crossing a crosswalk. The only light was my headlights. Now I have experienced a lot, but I was in shock. I called my best friend, now fiancé, and he helped me find other stories from around the country of very similar style. including the doorbell creatures in Las Vegas. I don't know what this was, but it feels surreal. Every time I pass that corner, I look for it. In the daylight, I was able to see a wildlife trail through the forest, though.

This creature was too skinny and not quite shaped right to be a bear or really anything I can think of. I think there's a lot to this world that we don't understand. I know that I should have taken a picture, so I understand if you don't know. believe me, but I was in so much shock that it never crossed my mind. I didn't feel threatened, but I was still frozen. Thank you for reading this experience, and thank you for everything you do.

I feel like these things get covered up, so it's nice that people are listening. I'm also sorry it's been rough for you lately. I understand and wish you and all of your listeners' blessings and love keep being amazing. Thank you so very much. Crystal, I hope you are doing well as well. Hi, Raven. I have several stories like this, but I felt that this was the most important one to share. I should disclose that, without my medication, I do have audio and visual hallucinations.

So make with that what you will. This particular experience seemed dreamlike, but it was so real. It was sometime in early 2024. as that is when I had my first psychotic episode. Not to get too sidetracked, but I also feel it's important to note that you can tell a hospital that you don't want fentanyl as a painkiller. In fact, I now say that I'm allergic since it caused my mental problems.

You can look up fentanyl-induced psychosis, and you'll get a basic idea of what I went through. It changed my whole entire life and not in a good way. Since prior to this, I didn't take any medications and had no diagnosed mental issues as I do now. But I digress. As anyone that knows me could tell you, I was not myself for several months after an emergency surgery. I was in my own world and it was scary. I was making dangerous decisions.

I wasn't sleeping a wink. It was all bad and not based in reality. Well, God ended up speaking to me, but through my point, partner. You know how the Holy Spirit is in all of us? His voice was booming through my life partner at me. He was so, so loving, even though he was angry with me. It felt exactly like I was being spoken to by a father, except that I felt so beyond love despite disappointing him. I don't remember everything he said, but I have always remembered how it made me feel. I do recall that he approved of my life partner of now 13 years, disapproved of my mental state, and reminded me that I needed to

stop stressing so much about money, and that he wanted me to share my experience. So there it is. God bless, and remember that you are loved. Hi, Raven. Claire here with another subway story from when I lived in New York City. And mind you, I only lived there for two years. So, this time, I was in Manhattan at 116th Street and Broadway, and I was going to catch the Red Line 1 train back to my apartment in Washington Heights. I was a little tipsy, having just watched a friend to perform at a bar's open mic in that neighborhood. Anyway, the thing about the Red Line at that time, this was circa 2014 so it could be different now,

is that there were electric signs showing the minutes until the next day, next train arrived. But you couldn't really see what the sign said until after you had swiped into the turnstile and onto the platform. So I swiped my metro card, walked onto the platform, looked at the sign and 17 gosh darn minutes until my train was coming. My tipsy butt was instantly devastated that I had not smoked the cigarette I was craving before going into the subway, with hindsight now telling me that I would have had plenty of time. So, with some liquid courage in me, I asked the booth worker if I could please go out and smoke, but would she just let me in when I came back so I wouldn't have to pay for another fare when I hadn't used my current one?

She was super chill and said, sure, no problem. So I went back up and smoked on the street, and then took the stairs back down to the subway. The worker and I made eye contact and nodded to each other, and she buzzed the exit door open and I walked through. So, to clarify, I did not walk through the turnstile and swipe my card again. And technically I went in the outdoor, but of course this was only because of my pre-arranged agreement with said cool subway employee. So as I'm walking down the platform to be towards the front of the train, two dudes both bald, both huge, both wearing New York Rangers hoodies,

a white guy and a black guy, walk up behind me. They start saying, Oh, so you think it's okay to just walk into the subway without paying? I keep walking and ignore them as this is my MO when any rando starts talking to me in a way that I'm not comfortable with. I mean, it's New York City. there can be some weird encounters. I had learned to not engage, and they usually just move on.

But then the huge guys say, Oh, and you also think it's okay to ignore police officers. That's when I stopped and looked at them, like, huh? They then immediately handcuffed me and said that I was being detained for entering into the subway without paying. I was instantly hysterically crying, and telling them repeatedly what had happened, with the worker allowing me to smoke and save me a swipe that I didn't use.

They weren't interested. This is when the other patrons in the subway, New Yorkers are really awesome people, started calling out the cops. She said she didn't do anything. You can't just handcuff her like that. Let her go, man, she was just walking. I was begging at that point for them to please just ask the worker down the platform to corroborate my story of our arrangement.

I think because they were getting called out and people had started filming, they said okay. As they were walking me down to the worker, still handcuffed, a guy who was filming on his phone approached and was calling them out for unjustly handcuffing me. And these plain clothes police officers then proceeded to put him in handcuffs too. They didn't even tell him why or what for. They didn't say a word. But now they have both of us in cuffs. They ask the teller about my alibi, which she confirms, while looking terrified, by the way.

One of the officers then removes my handcuffs while the other one starts walking the handcuffed guy up the stairs and out of the subway. The officer with me then tells me I'm free to go. I ask through tears, but what's going to happen to the other guy? Then the cop replies, cold as ice. I just released you, so I suggest you get out of here before I change my mind. With that statement, my flight instinct kicked in, and I bolted out onto the street and hailed the first taxi there. I saw the cops loading the guy who stood up for me into a police car, turning on the lights

and driving away. I was sobbing in the cab and told my story to the cabby, who didn't even end up charging me for the ride. I was shaking for hours, and to make things worse, I called my horrible boyfriend at the time to tell him what happened, and he mocked me for crying and said, Well, they didn't shoot you, so I don't even get why you're upset. Such a comfort, right?

But obviously, I have no idea what became of that poor stranger who stood up for me and called those cops out, just to get handcuffed and then taken away for it. I think of him often, and I just hope that he was released soon after, and didn't become a source of those cops' anger from missing out on me. The NYPD is no joke. I learned later that the New York Rangers gear is a hallmark of plainclothes NYPD officers. The subway is riddled with signs that say see something, say something.

Well, that upstanding bystander did just that for me. and all he got was punished. Hi, Raven. I want to thank you for your channel. I'm recovering from a sudden skin disease outbreak. My skin maintenance routine takes about 45 minutes daily, so I listen to your videos on YouTube during that time. It's a pleasure to be able to help.

Time goes by better when I have something to listen to during that time. I heard today a story from someone who had manifested themselves to a new timeline with the two glasses method, and it reminded me of something similar for my own life. My story is going to be a long one, and I apologize in advance to everyone. This spans over a time of seven years and goes through a lot of events linked to the same source.

There's not really a way to tell this in a very short message, so I do have to ask for everyone's patience. In 2015, my flatmate from my previous apartment decided to move in together with her boyfriend, so I had two choices. Either find a new flatmate or live by myself. I decided to live on my own and quickly found a cozy studio apartment relatively close to the city center. The area of this new home was wonderful, with lots of nature and quiet, peaceful neighbors, in a neighborhood which settles into a silence around 9 p.m. each night.

All of my neighbors were adults with no kids or dogs. Most of them had lived in the same building since it was built in the mid-80s. I settled in really well, and I was happy that I had found a home which fulfilled all of my needs. Peaceful, close to the central area, and a reasonable rent for its location and size. Problems in this new home started maybe three years after I had moved in. I lived on the top floor. There's a neighbor below me who was an elderly woman, and underneath her apartment on the ground floor, lived a middle-aged man.

This man had a drinking problem, and he was a heavy smoker, too. One of the neighbors who had lived there since the 1980s told me that the man used to be married, but after his divorce, he succumbed to alcohol and stopped really caring about anything. His wife had left him, and I understood that he would have wanted to continue the marriage.

Understandably, he was devastated. My neighbor said that this divorce had happened a long time and that the man had been single ever since. I don't mind neighbors in their lives as long as they don't bother me in my own home. I had chronic health issues and I worked remotely from homes, so a neighbor who was partying 12 hours straight on weekdays as well as smoking indoors was too much. Whenever he smoked inside of his own apartment, the smoke spread through the whole building. And it was so thick that it smelled like someone was smoking just next to me,

even here on the highest floor. It required 48 hours of airing to get that stench out of my house. He smoked a lot indoors during winters, and let me tell you, it's not fun trying to air your house when it's winter in negative 30 Celsius, or negative 22 Fahrenheit, outside. I even taped my front door and all ventilation ports shut whenever he smoked to prevent the smoke coming into my home, but it was all in vain. As said, when he partied with his friends, he partied for 12 hours straight.

He and his friends were alcoholics, so naturally they didn't even pass out at any point of the time. Once, their party went on from Tuesday, 8 p.m. to Wednesday midday. He and his friends played loud music, screamed and sang from the bottom of their lungs at the front yard of his home, and overall caused a lot of disturbances. Mind you, we're talking about men in their 40s. not some kids who are still learning how to live among other people. Naturally, whenever he partied or smoked indoors, I woke up. I could have been able to cancel the music with headphones,

but my eyes watering from the stench of whatever crappy was smoking, invading all spaces with no escape. I'll call this neighbor Mr. Smith, from now on, as his name is an important part of the rest of this story. One night when Mr. Smith was again partying with his buddies and it was 3 a.m., I sat on my bed absolutely depressed and devastated. This needed to end. In my desperation, I searched to see if there were any spells or something similar that I could do to stop this. I didn't want to curse or hex him or even touch curses or hexes because I have no experience in spellwork and I didn't want them to backfire.

I just wanted to live in peace in my own house. Surely there was a spell along the lines of shut up or something similar. I was really, honest to God, willing to give a try to a spell. I searched online and after an hour I found a blog of a man who said he had a similar situation with his neighbor. When he complained about this at work, to his colleague, this colleague said that his sister had a full-proof spell, which she always used in cases where she wanted someone to stop bothering her. Apparently she had a fridge full of these spells.

The man decided to give a try to the spell and it worked to his favor. The spell was very simple. Take a piece of paper, write the name of the person on it, and then put it into a jar of water together with a garlic clove. Close the jar's lid and sealed the spell with candle wax and then stored it in a freezer. This would create a protective barrier around you and remove the jar. the disturbing target from your life, but it wouldn't harm the person in question in any way. It was simply a spell of some personal boundaries.

I immediately put on my winter jacket and boots and headed to a nearby 24-hour open store to get myself some garlic. I already had baby food glass jars as I liked to eat the baby food fruit puree as snacks, and I had candles. I didn't know the full name of my neighbor, which was what was recommended for this spell. So when I started to cast the spell, I just wrote neighbor Mr. Smith, who lives in the apartment number 52 on the paper. I hoped that it would be enough. I sank the piece of paper with this text in a water-filled jar together with a garlic clove,

closed the lid, dropped candle wax on it, and put it at the back of my freezer. I didn't expect it to work, but I was so desperate that if this was going to improve things even slightly, even 10% I would be happy. Time passes on maybe after a month since I made the spell and I'm relieved that Mr. Smith

has not been smoking indoors or that he has not been partying. By the three-month mark after I cast the spell, Mr. Smith had partied and smoked inside only once. When month four began after me casting the spell for Mr. Smith to leave me alone

to be in peace, he had completely stopped, smoking, and partying. We're talking about a man who had been doing this for decades. In fact, he started to be at home only once a month, typically on Mondays, and he stayed only for that one night because he left again somewhere on a Tuesday morning. Six months pass, and Mr. Smith has not been bothering me at all.

Then, I spotted him once with a woman in his home. He had gotten a girlfriend and was spending all of his time at her place. I was really happy for him because it seemed like this new woman had managed to make him leave behind his bad habits. Or if he was continuing them, he was not continuing them in the building where I lived. Win, win for both of us, I thought. I had not expected the spell to work, and here I had evidence that it had actually worked for both of our benefit. I kept the spell for Mr. Smith on, and five years after I had cast the spell, he sold his home and moved to live with this woman. This man who had been living in that same apartment for decades sold it,

just like that. A new neighbor moved in, and weirdly enough, I almost never see them. They cleaned the front yard, which had been completely neglected to its natural state for at least 20 years, but the house is always empty. My sister was battling with a pestering neighbor, too. Her neighbor was a middle-aged woman causing a lot of noise and ruckus, and whenever her son came to visit her, He brought with him his badly behaving dog, which he let run free around the yard even when it's illegal here. It barked at everyone, dashed towards them with its bare teeth, and defecated everywhere, my sister's backyard included.

It got so bad that my sister ended up filing a police report of all this, but the police just shrugged their shoulders and said they couldn't do anything, not even speak to the neighbors. I told my sister about this spell and said that it had worked for, for me, for a neighbor who had been terrorizing the whole apartment for decades. As she was desperate as I had been back in the day, she made the same spell with her neighbors and her son's names on it. After two months, the neighbor calmed down. Whenever her son came to visit, he was suddenly extremely polite and friendly, and kept the dog on the leash. The dog had

had calmed down a lot, too, and was behaving like a normal dog. The noisy middle-aged female neighbor also found herself a new love. She spent most of her time away from her home at her boyfriend's place, and the son visited her thus less and less. After five months or so since the spellcasting, the neighbor's son got a job and moved to a different city far away from his mother, and just stopped visiting her. A bit over a year later, this neighbor moved on to live with her boyfriend into a house they had bought together.

My sister got a new neighbor who was extremely quiet and friendly. the exact same thing it happened to her. A disturbing neighbor stops disturbances, falls in love, starts to spend all of their time in their partner's home and then moves in with them. Even her son seemed to get a dust of luck raining on him because his unemployment ended and he got a job. For what I know, he's still working there, and this woman is still together with her partner five years later.

As our results with this Leave Me Alone spell had been so, phenomenal, I started to use it whenever there was someone or something bothering me to the extent that I couldn't take it any longer. I got a new neighbor just next door, this older man with a really deep voice. Before him, my neighbor on the other side of this wall had been a man around my age. I never heard anything from him, and thought that the sound insulation is really good between these apartments. Perhaps it is, but this other neighbor has such a deep, dark voice that it resonates through

the walls. I even hear him snoring on some nights. Unfortunately for me, as nice as he was as a neighbor, he was talking on the phone pretty much all his waking hours. I listened to his calls from 7 a.m. to 12 a.m. and if I had spoken his language, I would have been able to hear everything clear his day. Since I was still working remotely and typically woke up to his voice when he started his daily calls, I made the same garlic clove spell jar for him too. Please do leave me alone. After two weeks, he started lessening his phone calls, and after a month he had moved away.

I got new neighbors, these young women sharing this big apartment as flatmates, and I was super happy. These new flatmate girls had a dog for a while. It barked and whined from the bottom of its little lungs for six to seven hours straight daily, whenever it was left alone. concerned about this dog's separation anxiety, I contacted my neighbors asking them if they were aware of this separation anxiety and naturally also made a little spell for this dog to leave me alone.

I needed to protect my sanity and also protect the little dog's sanity. A week after I had made the spell and listened to the dog's barking for two weeks straight, the neighbor told me that the dog was only a foster from a friend staying for four months and that they would immediately arrange their schedules so that someone was with the dog at all times, whether at home or having the dog go somewhere with either one of them. I didn't hear a single bark or whine from the dog since that, and once the dog had been returned back to its home. I ditched the spell from my freezer.

Another neighbor moved in around 2019, and very soon they took on a Pomeranian puppy. It grew out to be extremely reactive and nervous. When it was inside, it barked at every little sound coming from the hallway all day long. When it was outside in their front yard, it barked at everything moving around. A leaf could fall from a tree and the dog would get a horrible fit because something suspicious was moving in the air. It clearly had marked his territory to cover not only its home yard but the whole street the house was on, and it was fiercely trying to protect its territory, while its owners basically did nothing. It got so bad that the wife of this couple had to carry the dog back inside as soon as they came to the home street

because the dog was screaming and raging at everyone. Cars, bikes, other dogs included. After I had been listening to this ever-growing raging of this little dog, thinking that it would fit a house somewhere in the country with lots of space for it to calm its anxiety, I made a spell. Please, little dog, leave me alone. He was genuinely starting to bother me while I worked, and I tried to sleep because it would just throw a ballistic rage fit at any given second. Living in a constant state of, oh no, when is it going to start again, was not good for my mental health. It took three months after I made the spell for the couple to move away. They'd been living there for six years, five years with this dog, and as soon as my spell kicked in, they relocated.

Hopefully they moved somewhere better for the dog's sake. My new neighbor in that apartment is a quiet young woman. I started to get more comfortable with this spell casting, noticing that it was indeed working, and year after year it gave me the results I was hoping for. The only thing I adjusted was that I switched to closing the jars with candle wax to a tape, because tape holds together better in the freezer. The one time the spell didn't work like I anticipated, it happened with the friend.

I had been friends with this person for pretty much my whole life, and she was a woman that will call Lily here. Lily was a wonderful person, full of vigor in life until life happened and she started to slide into a darker place. She was undiagnosed and resisted going to a doctor because, in her own words, that's just who she is,

and she needs to have life-shattering mental meltdowns three times a week in order to function normally. As a good friend, I listened to her, supported her, and gave her my advice on how to proceed. She said that she was happy that she could talk with me because talking aloud helped her manage and sort her own thoughts, clearing her head. But the phone calls started to become a daily occurrence. They were four hours long. Between those marathon calls, Lily sent me voice messages, text messages, and Facebook messages, tens each day.

She could call or message me even at midnight and expect me to be able to speak with her until 2 a.m. on a weekday when I had to work the next day. The worst thing was that these four-hour calls and countless messages were the exact same ones we'd already spoken about 50 times. Lily had become like a broken record, which could only play one of two songs on repeat, and expected me to listen to them every single day. I encouraged her softly to seek professional help, because it had helped me and spoke positively about anxiety medication, which I also take when I needed. I knew that I wouldn't be able to help because this was beyond friendship. I stopped answering all of her calls and answered only some when I had the energy to do so. Still, it was too much, and I didn't know how I could handle this without hurting Lily's feelings, so I made a spell for her. Lily, please leave me alone.

I need to rest. I can't take this. I can't be a professional therapist for someone who needs professional help. I need a breather. It's been four years since I made that spell for Lily. I have not heard from her for the last three years. We would have been friends for over 30 years in 2026. I know she's alive as I follow her on Facebook, but we've become strangers to one another.

I do, however, hope that she has gotten the help that she needs. Hi, Raven. I love your content and have been an avid listener for some time now. Here's my story. I hope it may help someone to hear it. I'm in my early 40s now, and this took place many years ago. I think I was around 12. It may seem odd that what I'm about to tell you,

I would not remember the exact date or even the exact hour, but the mind has a way of blocking things to protect itself. Anyway, I was brought up partly by my dad and partly by an elderly great aunt. Basically, my dad took care of making sure I had what I needed, clothes, shoes, things for school, that kind of stuff. And my aunt took care of me physically. I lived in her home most of my life, and she was good to me. Most of my happiest memories are when I was in her care. However, that never seemed to stop me from trying to have a relationship with my mother.

She and my dad had split when I was about two years old. She was not such a good person and rarely thought of anyone but herself. One day, I begged my dad to let me have her phone number so I could call her. He was totally against it at first, but I guess I wore him down begging, and he eventually gave in and gave me her number. I was so excited that I grabbed the old rotary phone and positioned myself in the hallway, so I could have some privacy and gave her a call. We spoke about how we were doing

and how big my baby brother had gotten. The conversation was going well for a while, but that all changed when she told me that she had an idea. She told me that I should come see her. I told her there was no way my dad or aunt would allow me to come see her and that they were hesitant to even let me call. She said that they couldn't stop me if I really wanted to see her. I really did want to see her badly.

I told her that I didn't have a way to get there or even any money for that kind of trip, as I was sure my dad would not drive me. I should mention here that she didn't even live in the same state as me. I'm not going to include the state she lived in or my state as well, for obvious reasons. She then began to tell me to grow up and just sneak out when my aunt was sleeping and hitch a ride to the bus station. Really, that's what she said. She said, and I quote,

Yeah, girl, snag some cash and go. That's the way to get around all that. And acted like I was the dummy for not thinking of it myself. Well, Raven and listeners, I would give anything to be able to tell you that I didn't do that. That I just politely said no and moved on with life, but no, that's not how it went. I waited until my poor unsuspecting aunt fell asleep.

sleep. I quietly packed a bag and went into her little money box and took out $300. I stuffed it in my pocket and jumped out the bathroom window and set out walking. Honestly, the entire time I really wanted to turn around and go back. Put the money back and forget about the entire thing, but at one point I had passed some dogs that, to me at the time, sounded scary, and I thought they had chased me for a bit, even though I had only heard them and never actually saw them. I was more scared to turn around than I was to keep going. After some time, I was heading out town walking far enough off the road that if anyone passed, they would not see me and report a runaway. But at some point, I ended up on the wrong side of a fence that came to an end

and blocked my way forward. I had no choice but to turn around. I had no choice but to turn around. and get to the road. After about an hour of walking on the road, a car passed me. At first, I didn't even pay it any attention. The driver turned around and passed me again. It was when he turned around again that I finally noticed, and he stopped. He was an overweight man that was probably in his 40s or 50s with a long beard. He wore a hat that advertised a particular brand of beer.

To be honest, that's all I remember about his description. description. Well, that, and that he smelled like that same brand of beer. I've tried to remember more, but, again, the mind blocks things sometimes, I guess. He stopped, and I remember hoping that he would just drive on. He didn't, but what he said calmed me. He said, and again, I quote, Baby, get in the car and I'll drop you off where you need to go. It's not safe for little girls to be out late like this. I don't know if it was because I'm southern, and hearing a grown man call me baby was something

so common where I'm from, and most of the time it's more of a term of endearment, or if I was on autopilot. It's kind of like I was a deer in the headlights, or something, but I got in the car. We drove, and he introduced himself as freed. I'm quite sure that's not his real name, and he asked me where I wanted him to drop me off. I told him at the bus station in the next town, and he said that it was no problem. Everything seemed fine at first. We made small talk, and I gave him a made-up story about my parents having joint custody,

and that it was my mom's weekend. I'm sure my story was very unbelievable. He said that he needed to stop for gas. He even went so far as to point to the gas gauge and say, see, I wouldn't lie to you. I honestly couldn't see the gas. gauge, but nodded and said okay. We pulled up to the gas station and he parked really far in the back.

He never pulled up to the gas pumps. I don't know why that didn't alarm me or anything. He explained that he didn't want anyone to see him with the runaway and then went inside. I just sat and waited for him to return. More afraid that he was going to turn me in than what I should have actually been afraid of. After a bit, he came back and we continued down the road heading out of town. At a very secluded place, he stopped the car. I'll say it was dark, it was cold, and it was quiet, and that's all I'm going to say.

I'm not going to go into detail here, but you can assume that the unthinkable happened. The night seemed to go on forever, but when the sun came up, I was back in this car. After what I'm going to refer to as the unthinkable had happened, he started to panic. He said that I had seen his face and that he didn't know what to do next. I was afraid of what he might decide to do. I truly thought he was going to kill me and leave me lying somewhere. I started saying things like, I'm so glad that you came along, Freed, and I even asked him to come with me to protect me.

I didn't really want him to come with me, of course. I just wanted him to think that I was no threat to him, so he would drop me at the bus station and not end my life. We did arrive at the station, but it was closed, so he dropped me at a nearby donut shop and drove away. And just like that, it was over. I mean, kind of over, over in the way that I was safe, but never truly over in my mind.

I know how lucky I am. I experienced a horrible thing, but I am alive to tell my story. I didn't tell anyone what had happened to me for several years. I regret a lot about that night, betraying my aunt by not only leaving her to wake up and find that I was gone, but also taking her money as well. Not reporting it, that haunts me daily. I can only hope that he never hurt anyone else,

but I'll never know. I did finally make it to my mom's. As soon as I walked in, I went straight to the shower, and my mind decided in that moment that I could work out what happened to me later. It just kind of erased it all. Everything that had happened was gone, and I had no memory of it for several months. It did come back, though.

Not a little at the time, like in a movie, but all at once. I was asleep, and when I woke up, my eyes popped open like one of those cartoons where the character's eyelids are blind that just spring up. It took years for me to tell this, first to my dad, and then to my mom and then others. I hope that my story can stop someone else for making the same mistake that I did. Thank you, Raven, for taking the time to read my story,

and thank you to your listeners for hearing it. Please, stay safe. Let me begin this experience by stating that I am a lucid dreamer. I'm always aware that I'm sleeping. This appears within dreams as me being able to wake myself up if I don't like the dream, rewinding the dream, altering its course and making mental notes to myself as, when I wake up, I need to write this down. Or, I just saw a rabbit within this dream.

When I wake up, I need to Google what kind of messages a rabbit brings with it. I don't use medication, drugs, or any other substances which alter one's mind. I don't even drink coffee or energy drinks. Because of my ability to lucid dream, I do know that I am asleep and what is happening is a dream. And thus, it's not real and I can exit the dream any time I want. Waking myself up from a dream is as natural and simple as a decision that I'm going to stand up when I'm seated. But some years ago, I had an experience while I was asleep which I can't describe as anything else than a body swap. Unlike dreams, which will lose their visuals in my mind as time goes by, some dreams I forget fully even when I write them down.

This one is as clear in my mind as a real memory. It doesn't differ from any other memories I have. Before I go to this experience, you all need to be to this experience. know that I am a middle-aged woman from Finland. This starts by me jolting awake from behind a car's wheel. Like, I would have been zapped awake suddenly. The car is a light gray-colored car, looks like an early 90s Toyota Corolla with black interior. I'm sitting on the driver's seat, holding the black steering wheel. My younger sister, the same as in my waking life, has been sitting next to me and has exited the car first.

My younger brother, the same as in my waking life too, was sitting behind my sister on the back seat and has just closed the car's door and is walking outside in front of the car's right-hand side, wearing a bright white t-shirt. He's lean, and his hair is short and dark blonde. My real brother in this waking life is a big, chubby, heavy metal guy with a beard and long black hair,

but I know that this is the same brother. I'm blinking a few times, like coming out from a moment of being unconscious. I'm still holding the wheel with both hands. I realize that I have memories of my middle-aged woman's life in Finland, her personality, her life experience, but my body is that of a young man's.

He's wearing a black t-shirt, black jeans, and white sneakers. I don't see myself, but I know that I've got short, dark, brown hair, and that I'm also 21 or 22 years old. This body is mine. This life is mine. This car is mine, but I am not this man. I have memories and a personality from a wrong life. The car is parked still in front of a row of one-story houses. They all are made from red bricks, and they all look the same on the outside,

except differences in the front doors. Some are white, some are dark blue. I think I saw one darker front door too. I am aware that I have parked the car in our own parking slot and that my siblings and I are returning back home, but since I don't have this man's memories, only his body, I don't know which one of these buildings is my home. Unfortunately, my siblings have already gone inside

and I didn't look at which house they entered, because I was so confused about where I am, and what's happening. I get out of the car, unsure which door to choose, and what will I tell the neighbors if I go to the wrong door? But I decide to walk to this white front door on my left, hoping it's the right one.

The door opens and I step inside a house I immediately know is the right home. It has a wide, inverted, T-shaped hallway, made from brown wood. The hallway is dim, but in front of me. I see an arched doorway without a door made from white paint and plasters. I know that on the other side of it there's a living room on my right and a small kitchen in the same room on my left. I also know that my father and mother, the same ones as in my finished life, are there. Dad's watching TV in his rocking chair and mom is doing dishes. The place where we live is a small city, and in this Finnish woman's life,

my father would never live in a city. If he could choose, he would be a hermit in a forest or a small cabin without ever interacting with anyone. I don't want my parents to see me and ask too many questions, because I don't know any of the answers. I know nothing about this man who I have suddenly become. I sneak quietly to the hallway on my left, hoping that I could find his bedroom. Maybe I can find some information or some hints about this man from there. I enter a small bedroom which has two identical beds with white bed sheets, with identical nightstands. The beds are pushed against the opposite walls. Nightstands are next to them and between the beds there is a small window.

The room is way too small for these two beds, but I know that we do manage it with my brother. His bed's on my right, mine is on my left, and I'm glad that he's not inside the room. I sit on my bed, and I notice how the wooden wall next to the bed and the headdress next to the window are covered with posters, postcards, and different prints of myriads of anime series. so he likes anime. That's a good start. I slowly go through the pictures on the wall, thinking to myself,

I have seen that series. I'm a fan of that series. That one I know only by name. That one's on my two-watch list, and that one I don't know. It turns out this man is a fan of many series that I'm not aware of, and which I have not seen.

I think that if anyone came in now and asked me, what is your favorite character from this or that series? I wouldn't be able to answer because I don't know. He is a fan. I am not. I realized at that moment one other thing. I was driving a car.

I was behind the wheel. I don't have a driver's license in my own life, so what do I say if someone comes to ask me to drive them somewhere? That sorry I forgot how to drive because, you see, I'm not actually this man, but I am a middle-aged woman from a different country? Who would believe me? Like, what do you mean you forgot how to drive? You drove just five minutes ago.

Then, I start to think if I'm working or studying, and if I'm studying in a college type of a place or in a university. I don't know. I ponder, what will I say if I have to go to work tomorrow, and my boss calls asking where I am. I don't know what I'm doing for a living as this man. What if he's working in a field that I have no idea about? Like construction?

I'm an artist and a journalist myself. That's all I know. How can I explain that I can't come to work because I have no idea where I'm working and where that workplace is located or how to get there? I don't even know where on this planet of Earth I am. Would the boss fire me or think I've lost my mind? Or if I'm studying, what if it's a university studying in the field of math or physics,

which I don't understand at all? How do I explain to teachers that, Hey, sorry, I can't ace any of the courses because I have no idea what these lessons are talking about anymore? Would they even believe me? That I've suddenly turned into a woman within that a strange female from some other reality has possessed this man's body? That this is not a 20-something-year-old man anymore, but a middle-aged woman,

even when he looks like his normal usual self. Speaking of women, I wonder if I have a girlfriend. If so, what will she say when I don't contact her for a while or to go see her? Because I don't know who she is, or where she is. Will she believe me? When I say that I have zero memories of us together, that I don't remember how we met or even what her name is.

I don't remember how long we've been together and that I have not contacted her because I don't know who I should call. Would she believe me? Or think that I'm hiding something or making excuses? And would she break up with me? Thinking all of this makes me really sad and upset. My chest hurts and I can't imagine how horrible this life is going to be. It's like running a wrong program on a wrong body all of the sudden. But only I know the truth and everyone else will only see this young man and think that he has to have lost his mind.

Then I came up with an idea. I should go out for a walk and see if I can spot any ads or newspapers, anything with letters. When I see the language of this place, I'll be able to determine where I actually am. I'm a Caucasian male, and everything looks like it's in Europe. So I assume I might be somewhere in Europe. Happy with this plan, I go outside and head to the right-hand side of my house. In front of these houses, there's a street to walk on. The day is sunny and clear, and the streets are dry.

After walking for a little while, I spot a metallic blue ad stand on the street, facing me. I get really excited, and I can't wait to see what language is written on it. As I get closer, I read the advertisement, but it reads as my native language. Finish. I think to myself, well, of course, this is his home country. Of course, he is going to read his native language the same way that I read my own native language, so no help there. I keep walking, upset, and I keep walking. upset and completely lost

when I came to a little park. In front of it, just next to the street that I'm on, are two rows of wooden tables. I know that these tables are free to use, and people typically come to sell some items they don't need anymore, so it operates like a free open flea market. The park behind these tables, which are almost all full of people selling their stuff on this pretty day,

is a park made of spruce trees only. They're planted there geometrically and they look old. On my left, the road forks into two pathways, one leading forward to the town under a gray shallow bridge, and the other one rising up and curving softly up to a grassy hill, which leads to an intersection to a highway just behind the hill. Based on the color of the grass, I conclude that it must be early fall time. Suddenly, I remember.

this place. I remember taking a bus through here, up to that hill and to the highway behind it, when I was visiting Germany as my own authentic self. I recall watching as these flea market tables with the park, with the tall spruces from the bus window, and sitting

on the right-hand side as my own self, somewhere around the middle, back of the bus. I also remember thinking as my own self back then that the little flea-mark area looked so cute, and I wondered if I could stop there someday. I even remember that the bus had red curtains, brown floors with seats bolted down with silvery edges, and brownish-red seat covers with yellow, blue, and purple scattered sprinkles on the print, and that the bus was yellow,

with two brown lines running alongside it, like those speed lines on sports cars. So, Germany. I was a German man in Germany. As soon as I realized this, I woke up from my own bed even more confused to be back in my own body. Finally, the body and soul matched, but I felt like I had done something wrong. Funny thing is that while I have been to Germany many times and took local buses in Berlin, I have not traveled in a long-distance bus in Germany. I have done a trip from Berlin to Poland for a day trip, but that was done by a direct train service.

Yet, I remember so vividly being on that bus, and looking at that cute flea market and thinking, if I could visit there, as I love flea markets, especially abroad. They offer so much more interesting items to buy than malls or regular stores. How happy seeing that scenery made me, and how I managed to get a look at it quickly before the bus turned away from it, leaving it behind us.

So it seems that in some other reality, I am still the same as I am now, but I have different traveling experiences. With this experience, I can say for certain that I think I know what total amnesia feels like. It was horrifying, utterly horrifying, to be in a body, in a life,

of someone that you have no idea of, but everyone else remembers you and all the things you've done together. I'm certain that I peaked accidentally into a parallel universe, where I live as a German man. I'm the oldest child, and my father wished me to be a boy, so maybe somewhere out there and some other reality, he did get his wish. Oh, and that German man, whose body I inhabited for a little while, I think it was, indeed me, but in a parallel universe. Hello there, friends, Raven here. Welcome to the end of this episode of As the Raven Dreams.

I hope that you genuinely enjoyed this collection of scary stories, as I enjoyed putting them together for you. If the platform you're on has the option to follow the podcast or leave ratings or reviews, please do consider doing so as it helps the podcast grow. Of course, if you enjoy the content, that is. If you didn't enjoy it, then feel free to also leave a rating as honesty is important, and I take all feedback seriously. Also, I do have a YouTube channel.

It's a lot of the same content, but we do live streams on Saturdays around 6 p.m. Central, so if you're free once Saturday night and want to come over and say hi, I would love to have you there. We just kind of have a good time doing whatever we want for the few hours that I'm online. You can also join the Patreon, patreon.com, as the Raven Dream. for early access to all this content. Check out the website as the ravendreams.com for information and where you can listen to the podcast, find all my social media links, find the merch store,

and send in your own stories to keep the podcast going, as it pretty much exists on crowdsourced content at this point. All of you really do keep this show going, so a huge thank you for that. Also on the website is information about the book that I wrote, titled The Insomniacs Experiment by Raven Adams. It's a psychological thriller, and I think it's pretty good. You might actually like it. Check it out.

It's available on Amazon. Or if you want a signed copy, you can email me to see if I have any left, and I will absolutely oblige if I do. All that said, friends, I hope you have a lovely rest of your day. I hope I see you again here very soon. But until then, remember that you are loved. You are valid. You are important. And the world is a better place with you in it.

Don't forget that. Until next time, much love, and sleep well. Thank you.