As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 233 - 7 Scary Stories (School & Family)

Episode Date: July 12, 2026

Today, on the 233rd episode of the As The Raven Dreams podcast, we have 7 True Chilling stories. These stories come from the shadowy corners of reality, where everyday life takes an eerie twist & ordinary people experience the extraordinary. Today we will be diving into the horrors that occur close to home and at school. 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... KatiiD, Bridgette, Gerradi Towns, HannahRogers, Carlos, UndercoverDuelist, Danny&Maria, As Well As Any Author That Has Requested Anonymity. TimeStamps… Ad breaks after Story 1 & Story 3 1 ➤ 0:46 2 ➤ 8:03 3 ➤ 19:51 4 ➤ 29:47 5 ➤ 38:54 6 ➤ 45:56 7 ➤ 1:01:29 ----- 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 #scaryschoolstories Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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hear that it's your money calling it wants a promotion elevate your savings with the scotia high interest savings account always earn high regular interest rates that grow the more you save and invest conditions apply visit scotia bank dot com slash hisa to learn more scotia bank you're richer than you think hello my friends happy sunday if you're listening to this on the day that it comes out if you're not happy uh monday tuesday Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, or Saturday to you. Or Sunday, if you're listening on a Sunday.

Anyways. Today, we have some creepy school and family stories. Stories that involve school or family, one of the two. Definitely some terrifying things involved in those two subjects. So hopefully, you enjoy them. And, yeah, have a good day. Have a good rest of your week. And I hope to see you again here soon.

Until then, enjoy. This was probably the creepiest thing that ever happened to me, but it didn't really happen to me directly. You'll understand more later on. It's something that affected my entire school, and it's still something that a lot of us who went to school together talk about. At the time of the story, I was a junior, and while I was a decent student in class, my passion was track. I loved running. I was a distance runner. I loved being outside on the track, and at my level, our teacher and coach would often let me run around with my earbuds in.

She would give me directions or things she specifically wanted to see me work on, but otherwise I was pretty much left alone. I was actually hoping for a scholarship with the sports that I did partake in so I could afford the school I wanted to go to. This particular morning I got on the bus with my sister, as normal, same as any other day, until we got to the school. There were a few police cruisers sitting with their lights on at the front entrance from what I could see, but there were another four or five in the back of the school as well as an ambulance, where the buses dropped us off. My first thought was mild annoyance. We'd had a few anonymous threat. calls that year already, kids that thought they were being funny to get the whole school locked

down. I figured it was another one of those, forcing us to be late getting in as we went through metal detectors and bag checks. But unlike those normal lockdowns, they wouldn't let us off the bus. I heard the bus radio actually tell all the buses to not open the doors and await further direction. One by one, the buses had to wait in line to approach the entrance. then we would be let off with two officers directing us into the building. It took nearly 20 minutes before we got inside, making us miss a good portion of the first period as we waited for everyone to get in. It was just such a weird feeling.

No one was joking around like we normally heard on the buses. With the amounts of law enforcement around, it was tense, and with no metal detectors up we knew this was different. Something else had happened. Once all the buses were unloaded and classes could finally begin, there was an announcement explaining that the building was on a soft lockdown. No one could go outside for any reason. If you had to leave or a parent was coming to pick you up,

you had to be escorted out the front entrance with another officer or faculty. That was it. No explanation of why either. But what actually got to me, as silly as this is going to sound, was when track practice was cancelled. I had a meet coming up that weekend, and I had been planning to get a solid workout in before. But of course, we were not allowed outside, even if we were sticking to the fenced-in track. We were allowed to use the gym instead, but I didn't like running in the gym.

All you have are tight circles, squeaky. floors, and you have to listen and smell everyone else. I much preferred running on the track outside, but as kids do when there's something normal or controversial going on, the rumors started flying through the school. Someone said that a student had been found unresponsive. Someone else said that it was a teacher. There was another version where a car had crashed through the fence in almost the building on the south side, but clearly there was no car or damage.

damaged walls. Someone even mentioned that a student found a body in the back parking lot. There were all kinds of crazy stories. I took all of them with a grain of salt. It was clearly something important enough to lock down the school, but not enough to send us home. It wasn't until I got home from school that I finally learned what had actually happened. We had to get on the buses with directions that we followed similarly to that morning. but it was a little looser. We were able to get on the bus at the same time, but there were some officers and cars around us,

stopping us from going too far from the parking lot. My sister and I got off the bus, and we were met by our grandmother opening the door for us. After an accident she'd had, she moved in with us, so we were used to her being there when we got home from school. Sometimes she opens the door for us, but not every time. This time was clearly different based solely on the look on her face.

As we set our backpacks down, she asked us how school was and if we saw anything there. That's when we both told her about the cops, the lockdown, all of it. This was quite some time ago when smartphones weren't really a thing. Some of our friends had prepaid, but we did not. So there was really no way for us to contact our parents. or vice versa during school, unless they were physically there to pick us up, or we called them from the nurse's office, or something like that. My grandma always knew everything going on, so she filled us in.

She said that it had been on the news, which made sense because someone mentioned seeing a news van. A woman had recently been reported missing by a family member, and the next day, her boyfriend turned himself in. He had ended her life during a fight and left her body in the woods behind the school. Our school. The woods right by our running track that I enjoyed. I was horrified. I was upset because I couldn't run around outside and others were upset about the soft lockdown. All the while this poor girl had lost her life and was just left outside in the elements by someone that was supposed to love,

and protect her. If he hadn't turned himself in, who knows how long she could have been out there. And, depending how deep into the trees he went, what if I or someone else saw her out there? Hell, some of us just like to walk around back there in the trees during games that we weren't actually interested in watching. There were so many scenarios swirling in my head, and they all freaked me out. It was on the local news for a while too. We saw her pictures, heard vague details about what happened, and what he did to her, and how she was found.

And, since then, it's unfortunately one of those things that will always be tied to my school days. Do you have any of those memories where you think you remember it all fondly and accurately, but then someone shares their side of the same event and it just completely changes everything you knew about? that moment. I have one of those from my childhood, and the crazy thing about it is that my memory of it is completely different from what my sister remembers and from what my parents remember. And no, I'm not talking about a glitch either. This happened back when I was about six or seven years old. My older sister was 12 and my baby brother was two. We were taking a family vacation to a state where we had never been. My parents had a few places or stops in mind for us to check out, with one day dedicated to the main event.

It was all by car, so as my mom always did, she packed a large bag stuffed with snacks, drinks, and activities for us on the drive. Once at our destination, we did a few things that they had planned, and went to some kind of water park. While there, another couple took the chairs next to us and immediately began talking to my parents. The couple had a young boy that looked close to my parents. my age at the time, and they encouraged him to go play with me. He seemed shy, but once we got into the sprinklers, he seemed to really enjoy himself. We would take a break to get a drink or more

sunscreen, and the entire time our parents were talking, and seemed to have just as much fun with how much they were laughing. Overall, it was a great day. A few hours later, our parents called us back over to pack up, and I remember them mentioning having dinner with our new friends. The woman was talking about a fun place to go with kids, and I remember getting excited because she mentioned them having a playroom. I remember my parents mentioned needing to go back to the hotel first, and the couple looked shocked, and said they were staying at the same hotel. So we all drove back together, them in their own car following behind us. We got into the hotel together and and mom continued talking to the woman.

We got out of the elevator and began walking down the hall. I'd fallen behind just a bit because I was carrying my towel with a rock wrapped in it. Yes, I took it from the park because it looked cool to me. It was shaped like a dinosaur print, and my little self thought that it was a fossil. As kids do, I whipped my towel around dropping my new rock, so I had to grab it up. I knew where the room was, and I could still see everyone in front of me, so I wasn't worried about getting left behind. As they approached the door, I saw the woman crouch down to say something to my sister and

their kid, and she ruffled his hair. My sister then turned back towards me and told me to sit with them. I thought it was weird, but I did as she asked. The three of us sat against the wall right outside the room while everyone else went into our room leaving us there. As mentioned, I was seven, and I thought this was weird. Why were we sitting outside the hotel room with nothing but our swimsuits and a towel? By the way, I couldn't control it, so I showed them my new rock.

The boy was back to seeming shy and quiet, but he thought that the rock was cool while my sister told me it wasn't a fossil. I argued that it was, and started standing up to show my dad because I knew my dad would agree with me. But my sister pushed me back down and told me that I could ask when they came back out. I didn't understand why I couldn't just ask them, but I listened. We talked a bit more, played guess which hand the rock was in, but then I quickly became bored again. I'm sure it probably wasn't too long, but my attention span was pretty short. I started to become annoyed sitting out there and was also cold. Again, I was just in damp swim trunks, so I tried to get up to go into the room again when my sister pulled me back, telling me no.

I remember getting mad and trying to pull away from her and yelling at her, but she covered my mouth and begged me to sit back down and wait. It was really weird of her to beg, in my opinion, instead of just being plain bossy. But I remember it setting something off in me. I sat back down, and I asked her what was wrong, and she refused to say anything other than to just wait with them. So that's what we finally did. After a while, the door opened and the couple quickly walked out, snatching up their son.

He quickly stood and took his mom's hand as the three of them walked off. My mom and dad were also at the door and very swiftly grabbed both of us, getting us in the room as quick as they could. Once in the room I saw my dad lock all three locks on the door and my mom looked frazzled and her face splotchy like she had been crying. My baby brother was lying on the bed just starting to cry. seeing my parents that way immediately scared me. I rarely saw my mom cry, and I had never seen my dad that scared. I asked what was wrong, and it was like my dad had a switch. He smiled, hugging my sister and I, and said that we were fine. He told us that the plans had changed and that they were just going to stay in for the night, because my mom wasn't feeling well.

I assumed that that was why she looked like she was crying. I often cried as a kid when my stomach hurt, so it all made sense to me. We stayed in the room that night, as they said, but after my dad left the room for some time, he came back, and we ended up moving to a different room. I don't remember the reason they told us. My sister and I took turns taking baths, my parents ordered pizza for dinner, and we watched TV and played in the room until we fell asleep. The next morning, my parents told us that we were leaving, and I took that as we were going

to our next destination. nation. Instead, we went straight home with us not doing anything fun along the way. We stopped to get dinner, but even that wasn't much. It was like little stops, like McDonald's. And we slept in the back when my parents took turns driving. The end of that vacation was abrupt and disappointing, as we didn't even get to the main event that we had planned. However, I was young, so once we were home and I was back with my toys, I quickly got over it, and we moved on from there. Years went by and life continued on as normal. I filed that memory away as a weird vacation that went sideways for reasons my young self didn't understand, but otherwise I never thought about it.

That was, until I was older and our vacations came up. I was graduating from high school and my summer was starting. I joked with my parents about going on a vacation as a reward for graduating. That's when I mentioned that we never did get to go to that. one amusement park as kids, and suggested that we go, joking, of course. My sister made a comments like, absolutely not, and teased me about not being able to read a room. I didn't know what she meant by that, and then she brought up how I wouldn't stay in the hallway and got antsy. I remembered this and mentioned being a kid and how I didn't understand why we had

to wait out in the hallway. That's when my sister dropped the bomb on me. You didn't realize we were getting robbed. Okay, back it up. I looked at my parents and my mom was silently looking at me confused, and my dad was just nodding with the very matter-of-fact look. I told them what I remembered, being told by my sister to wait in the hall with her and the little boy, but that was really all I knew,

other than my parents looking upset when we went back in the room. My sister explained that when the woman was talking to her, she told her to stay in the hall with me and threatened that if she tried to go into the room or bother them, that they would, to center myself here, hurt my parents and my baby brother. And to my 12-year-old sister, that was scary, and she took it seriously, which is why she begged me to stay with her. I looked to my parents for confirmation, and their look alone said plenty. They explained that when they were heading to the room,

She had mentioned waiting outside for us, so they didn't notice that she had stopped my sister to talk to her until they turned around. When she stood up, the man shoved my dad back. The woman followed behind them and quickly shut the door. In the room, the man pulled out a gun and demanded they give him all the money that they had. They pulled out their wallets, emptied the cash and cards that they had, and then the woman demanded all the backup they had too, and when my dad said they had nothing else, the man pointed his weapon at my baby brother, whom my mom had lied on the bed. This got my mom worked up, and she quickly pulled out the emergency credit card they had in the suitcase,

and just gave it to the woman. They swore that it was all they had. The woman searched the bags while the guy continued to point the gun, and after she was satisfied we had nothing else, they left, scooping up their own kid and taking off. That's when my parents pulled us into the room, and why they both left. looked distraught when we finally went in there. Our stay was prepaid, so my dad reported the robbery, which is why he was downstairs for so long.

And we switched rooms just in case they came back looking for us. Sadly, they really did take all the money that we had, and my grandmother had to send a Western Union just so we had money to get home, which is why our trip was cut short. I was in disbelief. This entire time, I thought that was a totally normal vacation that ended early due to my mom being sick or something. Well, the truth was, my sister dealt with me complaining about being bored knowing behind the door of our hotel room, my parents were in worst danger, and she didn't say anything to me about it. My parents, with a gun in their face, had to give up all the money they had, hoping they would believe them and leave without hurting anyone.

This was quite some time ago. Before we had the ability to stop our bank cards through an app or phone or transfer funds between accounts, hence the Western Union. If my grandma was unable to do that, I don't know how we would have gotten home. I didn't know whether to hug my sister and parents or cry when they finally shared the details. They were just as surprised because they thought that I knew. They thought I had figured it out or that maybe it would come up over time, but I was legit. legitimately living my entire life like this event never happened. I was living my life like my parents owed me a vacation that didn't happen because they got sick,

not realizing how much danger we were all in that night. I felt horrible after learning this, but neither my parents nor my sister make a big deal about it. They've moved on, but at the time of learning the truth, I felt like I was living that event from a different perspective. It really made me think about other memories I had as a kid and how much of what I remember could be different from those around me witnessing the same thing. Hey, Raven, I heard you mentioned needing some stories, and while it's not too long, I thought you might be interested in this story. It was pretty creepy at the time, but now as an adult, it really sets in how creepy the situation actually was. This took place back when I was 15 years old, and a sophomore in high school.

I was a pretty average student. I had a good group of friends and at the least an acquaintance in every class, as well as a few people that I didn't like and avoided. There was really nothing remarkable about me or our school, to be honest, which is why it wasn't a huge thing when our English teacher went on maternity leave for a few months. In that time, we had a sub, and I had seen the sub before in other random classes. I didn't really know him well, as it was usually just a day here or there, but now we would be seeing him daily for a few months.

His name was Mr. Fredericks, but he told us all to call him Mr. Fred, because Fredericks sounded too proper. He was also a pretty average-looking guy. Of course, at that age, adults all looked old to me, but he was probably close to my parents' age, I'd guess, so in his 40s at least. He dressed nice, but casual, and always talked to us as a person. He was direct and always dealt with distractions promptly. He even showed his annoyance with someone disrupting the class multiple times in the same hour.

So, to me, he just seemed like another normal teacher. Then, the red flags started showing. The first one was when we had to write a personal essay about a meaningful place, but we had to explain the place without actually saying where it was. When he handed mine back, he smiled at me. No big deal initially, but there was a sticky note attached to the last page with a note on it that said something along the lines of, you write with a lot of maturity. I'd love to read more of your work. I remember feeling vaguely proud at first. I loved poetry and literature, so getting that kind of compliment first made me proud.

But it also made me slightly embarrassed. Thinking back, I think 15-year-old me clocked something my conscious brain hadn't caught up to yet. After that, he asked me to stay after class a few times. It wasn't often enough that it felt alarming, maybe once every two weeks or so, and he always had a plausible reason. One time he showed me a paper with my name halfway erased, and wanted to make sure it was mine and someone hadn't attempted to plagiarize it. One time he said that my draft needed some extra feedback, that he wanted to give to me personally, claiming it was easier to explain in person. Another time, he wanted to recommend a book to me based on something he saw me reading. My parents always told me that good grades were important and worth the effort, so when I mentioned some of the compliments

at home, they were pleased. My mom even mentioned that she was proud to see someone finally pointing out my work personally, rather than in the form of report cards. The conversations were never really inappropriate. That's what made it so confusing. He would ask about my home life, like if I got along with my parents and siblings. He would ask about my friends, if I had a boyfriend or girlfriend and what I wanted to do after graduating.

He even told me that I could call him by his first name, Martin, but I kind of had a hard time with that one. But over time, there was this intensity to it that I couldn't quite name. He gave me his full undivided attention in a way that felt less like genuine interest in me, and more like studying me, if that makes sense. It just had me in this constantly weird state of he just thinks I'm really smart or special, and trust your guts and don't get too close to this. But the moment that broke through my denial was right after spring break. It was after school during one of those moments where he asked me to stay behind.

He asked me how things were going between me and my friends. He had seen a small argument between us in the hall, and I told him about the silly fight that we'd had. I was explaining that we were fine, that we tended to move on pretty quickly, and that I just mistook something she said. As I was explaining this, he sat on the edge of his desk and leaned toward me and said, You know, Bridget, you are much more mature than the people around you. Most adults your age don't understand you the way I do, and I can tell.

Again, this gave me a weird feeling, and the way I reacted to the situation like that was to just laugh. so I chuckled a bit and kind of stumbled on my words. I started backing up to leave when he told me that I could come to him for help with anything, even adult stuff or personal things that I might not be comfortable bringing up with my parents. He said it with such a calm but serious tone, like he was offering me something and trying to relay it to me without saying it out loud. I remember this heavy pit sitting deep in my stomach,

at that time. It was like when you do something really bad as a kid, and you know that there's no way you're not getting into deep trouble. But the entire time, Mr. Fred had a calm look on his face, like we had just had a normal student-teacher conversation. But that phrase, adults, your age, made no sense to me. I was 15, though we're near an adult. But yet that sentence made me realize exactly how he saw me, and I knew it wasn't good. I didn't say anything else. I just nodded at him, and when he stood up, holding one arm out toward me, I swung the door open and rushed out. I didn't tell anyone at school about what had happened, but I knew something was written on my face.

I felt sick. I felt like I had done something wrong, and I didn't know what I was going to do about it. That night at home, I confided in my older sister. She was a junior at the time, and we were really close. I told her that someone had said that to me but didn't tell her who it was, and if it was someone our age or an adult. She looked at me suspiciously and asked me if it was an adult that had said this to me, and I told her yes, and she demanded that I tell her who, which I did.

She immediately told me that I needed to tell our parents. She had me scared with the way that she was reacting to it, so with her help, I told our parents too. They immediately had follow-up questions, ones that alarmed and embarrassed me, but they tried to calm me down several times as well. They kept me home from school the next day, and my parents went to the school to talk to the principal or someone like that. But this is the frustrating part. They told my parents that they would look into it, and I was supposed to continue going to class like everything was normal. The only difference was that they told my parents that they would tell Mr. Fred

that he could not hold kids after class anymore. Thankfully, my parents stayed firm. They didn't want me in his classroom anymore. They tried to argue that if I wasn't there, I would be marked as absent. But they threatened to go higher up with it, so they finally settled on allowing me to stay in the library to work during that hour. Of course, that only made the kids more curious, not ever seeing me in that class specifically. However, it didn't last long.

They eventually did let him go, and we got another sub for the last two weeks. Then our actual teacher returned. When I started returning to class, a lot of people had questions, and I had to do my best to feign ignorance, but I think some people knew better. Ultimately, I don't know what happened to Mr. Fred. I doubt they only had him planned for the time he was there, because it seems silly to bring in another sub just for two weeks. But I also don't know how all that works. I also don't know if anything ever happened to him, legal-wise, because, We never saw him at the school again, and I never saw anything about him in the news or anything from my parents.

But now, as an adult, I know his words were not innocent. The things that he said to me and their intentions were much more cryptic and sinister, because it was always alone or written to me, and it still creeps me out today, decades later. Unfortunately, it's made me skeptical of many adults that work with children, but I do my best to have the benefit of the doubt. Just keep in mind if you're young and something doesn't seem right, or if a kid comes to you with concerns, take it seriously. They know more about right and wrong than you might think. This happened to my mom and I back when I was very little, and it had a huge impact on me. especially when it comes to vehicle and driving safety.

This was very early 2000s, and I was seven years old, maybe eight. I can't remember the exact time, but just know that I was very small. We had this old, dark red sedan that my mom drove for years. It was very old, and there was nothing fancy to it. Like I said, early 2000s, and we were a small middle-class family. My dad had a work truck that he used, and otherwise it was this living. thing, with crank windows, heat that barely worked, and no AC, and scratchy seat cushions that I loved making patterns in with my fingers. Yeah, one of those. But one of my favorite things about the car

was the floorboard behind the front seats. They were deep enough that a small kid could curl up in and practically disappear if they tucked their knees in just right. I know this because I tested it. Our house had a long driveway, and back then we didn't really have anything. that was worth stealing in the car, so my parents rarely locked it. When they were outside doing something, I would often get in the car to just sit there and be out of the hot sun. And one of those times, I tested the hiding spot, which is when I learned how well I could fit. That's how this day started. I was outside playing while my mom and grandma were inside with my twin brothers.

My dad was already at work, my mom was getting ready for work, and my grandma was there to watch us that day. I often played outside earlier in the day before it got too hot. At one point in time, I remembered something I had left in the car the day prior. I think it was some toy. I went to get it, and as I sat in it, I got this genius idea to try to scare my mom. I thought I would hide down on the floorboard, jump out and, jump out, her when she got in and have a little laugh before she left. So, I quickly got into position expecting my mom to be out soon.

Then I just had to wait. I lied there and waited, covering myself partially with the window cover, and the more I waited, the more I realized how sleepy I was getting. And, before I knew it, I had dozed off. I don't know how long I was out, but I woke up to honking. That's when I realized the car was moving and my mom had the music on. She was driving. Again, I was a kid here, but I remember thinking that I blew my chance.

I was upset thinking that I had slept the entire day and my mom was heading back home at this point. I was mad at myself, but decided that I could still surprise her, and since she was heading home, she would even get to tell my dad about it so he could laugh. He was typically home before my mom. So I slowly removed the window cover, crawled into the seat, and grabbed her headrest and shook it, as I yelled, boo! Well, what happened next? I'm sure many of you can guess. It's something that used to replay in my head over and over as a kid.

My mom certainly screamed. I was successful in that, but the scream was real and it scared me. Then the car lurched. the wheel jerked, and I was thrown sideways into the door because I had nothing to hold on to. I was hiding, not buckled into a car seat or seat belt. Then there was the ugly crunching sound, the car tilting and the world going sideways. That sound was the car hitting a guardrail, then the car rolling, until it hit a ditch and the airbag deployed, and then stillness and everything went black.

When I opened my eyes again, I was wedged between the floorboard and the broken window, my face in the grass. When I looked up, I didn't see the roof, but instead the sky, through the other side window. The position didn't make sense to my little brain. I looked around and saw my mom in the driver's seat still, her eyes closed and her face scraped to hell. I remember seeing her like that, and then I began crying. I thought she was dead. I called for her.

I tapped her shoulder. I shook her, but she didn't budge. I began crying harder, screaming at her, when I heard others talking. I heard someone ask if we were okay, and someone said there was a kid in there. Then I heard sirens. I saw a man look through the window and reached for me, but I refused telling him to help my mom. He promised that he would, but said that I needed to get out. too. So I finally took his arm and he lifted me out. My knee was scraped on the broken glass.

The man hated me off to a woman standing nearby who tried to look me over and ask me my name and for my mom's name. But all I wanted to do was help my mom. This was all my fault, so I needed to help her. Then the sirens got louder until they finally stopped. It was a fire truck, and they quickly ran to the car. and began talking to my mom. She was alive. But all I could hear were just groans. Groans that scared the hell out of me. They managed to get the door open and pull my mom out and had her lying flat on the ground. I ran over to her and just kept saying, I'm sorry, over and over again. She just said my name and groaned again. The ambulance showed up shortly after,

and they got her on a stretcher. The people that helped us explained I was with her, and they put me in the ambulance with them. My mom reached her hand out, and I took it and squeezed it. That's when she asked me if I was hurt. She was the one lying flat on a stretcher with a neck brace, and she was asking if I was okay. I was surprised, but her soft tone that she used was the same one she used when she comforted me and told me everything would be okay. She was alive. She didn't seem mad at me.

Once at the hospital, they put me in a room with a bunch of toys, but I didn't want to play. I sat on one of the beanbag chairs and watched whatever was playing on the little TV there, and then the door opened and my dad ran into the room hugging me, and I cried again. I told him that I was so sorry and was scared that it was my fault and that I had hurt mom. He told me that it was okay, and that mom was okay. okay too, and we left the room. The rest of that day was a blur. We were at the hospital for some time until my grandma came and picked me up to take me home. I lied on the couch watching TV until I finally fell asleep. The day was even still early. Turns out I hadn't

been asleep very long when I woke up. My mom was on her way to work, not coming home like I thought for some reason. My mom came home a few days later with bruises and scrapes. and wearing an arm's sling, and I was so afraid to touch her at that moment, thinking that I would hurt her. But she wanted me to hug her. She asked me to. And as she held me, I told her everything. I told her about my plan and how I had just wanted to scare her a bit. We had a good talk, my parents and I, about safety. She told me how dangerous that was for that exact reason, but she also apologized to me.

She said she should have looked for me in the yard before she left, and that they should have been more careful about leaving the car unlocked, and teaching me about safety around cars, whether they were moving or not. We all learned things that day. While theft may not have been a problem, locking the car became important, to keep us kids from playing in it like a playground. My parents learned to check where we were more, and they usually would just yell into the house or the yard when they were leaving, and that way. was it. Now, especially as my twin brothers started crawling, they made sure that we were within eyesight. They checked the cars before they left, too, to double check that no one was in or near the cars. And I certainly learned that the car was not a place to play. That scaring someone while they're operating a fast-moving death machine was not a good idea, but you can bet that I certainly

learned my lesson that day. And now, as an adult, I still hold those rules close to me, especially with my own kids. My story is about how I almost became a mass shooter at my college in Tallahassee, Florida. I was a senior, and I moved into some off-campus college apartments. They moved me into a four-bedroom two-bath apartment that already housed two students, so I immediately noticed they were not happy to have me there, especially the one that I shared a bathroom with. They had gotten used to the idea of it just being them, and they each had their own room and bathroom.

Now I come in, and one of them loses his comfort by not having his own bathroom. He has to share it with me. It wasn't a big issue, but I didn't feel very welcome at first. Because of this, I tried to stay out of the way, as I already had friends anyway, so I just tried to be cordial, and it wasn't bad. We even went out once, and I was. was sure to buy drinks from my new roommates. After that, we were cool, but we didn't hang out again or anything as this friendship ended fast. I was in the Army National Guard and had to leave for a month, so I pulled my rucksack out of the closet, and the musty smell of my dirty gear filled the room

very quickly. I opened the window to my room and left for the day to let it air out. I went to run some errands and hang out with friends when my room aired out, and I returned to the room that evening to find and the front door was slightly ajar. This wasn't normal, but I figured one of my roommates must have run to the car or something. I continued on to my room, and you know that feeling as you step into a room that you're familiar with, but something is off?

Or something is different? Something missing? My heart dropped as I looked at my window and saw the screen was sitting on the ground next to the window. Someone had burglarized my room. My GameCube, my DVD player, my DVDs were all missing. This was 2005, and I was a college student. I didn't have any real valuables, and I figured the police wouldn't be much help as I had no proof of what was missing, so I just sat on the bed, kicking myself for opening the window.

As I was sitting there, one of my roommates came home and walked to my room. My door was still open. He asked if I borrowed his PlayStation. I sighed and told him no I said that I had left my window open and someone had come into my room and stolen some of my stuff too I apologized and told him I would replace it when I got the money I apologized profusely

he said okay and said he was going to look around and make sure that nothing else was missing I told him that I knew it was going to be a bad time but I had to leave in the morning and wouldn't be back for a month I had military training. I could see the confused look on his face, but I explained that I had opened the window to get rid of the musty smell in my room as I aired out the contents of my duffel bag. I had to go. The next morning, I was gone before the roommate that I talked to woke up, and I think my other roommate was gone for the weekend.

When I returned a month later, I didn't have a cell phone, so I hadn't heard from these guys. They informed me that they had called the police when I was gone, and when they had been. did their investigation, the police told my roommates that I was likely the thief, but there was nothing they could do without any real evidence. I apologized again, and I promised to replace the PlayStation. That was the only thing missing. The other roommate's stuff was untouched. I went to my room to get some rest after a month of playing soldier and a long drive home. I went to sleep, and was awoken around four hours later, about 9 p.m., by my roommate knocking on my door. When I answered, he said, tell me again what happened that day.

After saying that, he walked to the living room area, so I followed him. When I got there, my other roommate was standing in the kitchen area, and there were about eight other guys, and they were all standing there waiting to hear my story. I started from the beginning, but before I could get five, words out, the roommate whose PlayStation was stolen cut me off and said, You better be glad that my stash didn't come up missing, or it would be a different story. I started to speak when the second roommate chimed in, you knew better than to touch my stuff, because I would be on your ass right now. It was then that I understood what was happening.

The energy in the room was building up for a fight. Me, against both roommates and eight other friends who came to watch, or maybe worse. I went to my room and grabbed my keys. I was furious. They not only accused me of stealing from them, but then threatened me. They didn't say at the time that they were definitely going to do anything, but I could read the room. I had to leave. I was so mad that I went to my Frat Brothers' house who I knew had an AR-15.

It's crazy that they won't sell a handgun. to a 19-year-old, but they will sell you an AR. I went to his house in a rage and asked for the gun. I told him what happened and explained that I was going to go back to my room and shoot every single person in there. While I drove there, I envisioned killing them all and surrendering to the police peacefully. I envisioned the life sentence, the death sentence never came to mind, even though it would have probably been on the table if I shot ten people.

I didn't care. He wouldn't give me the gun and calmed me down with some alcohol. I slept at his house, and I had some of my frat brothers accompanying me to pick up my stuff as I moved out immediately. I never paid that guy back for his PlayStation. I hate that I didn't, but there was no friendship left to salvage after I moved out. I had a friend who worked at the flea market just off campus, and I met him there, and I saw my stuff a few weeks later. I'm pretty sure it was my stuff, my purple GameCube, the same brand of DVD player and many of the few DVDs that I owned. I asked my friend where he got the stuff from, and he told me who the guy was and even showed me a picture of him.

He was able to show me his face and name on a poster on campus, because he was a member of the marching band. I never saw that guy on campus, but my friend did give me my stuff back. He, however, did not have a PlayStation on his flea market stand. This may not seem as much of a scary story, but some of the implications could have been scarier than the outcome. Either way, crazy or scary family, I wanted to share it, with my husband's permission, as it is his family. The only thing I will change are their names. My husband, Daniel, and I met at work. The company we worked for went through one of those lovely,

restructures, and the one good thing that came out of it was that my husband and I ended up on the same team. We did very similar things in the same role and the same levels, so we made approximately the same amount of money. In fact, I had worked there two years longer than him, so I was making slightly more. It's relevant for the story, and that's the only reason I bring it up. It started out as just co-workers. We talked a lot, went to company events together, and then he finally asked me out to dinner. We hit it off immediately, and we're soon dating. Everything was slow and casual, but after a few months, I learned that his family were pretty

well off, like generational trust fund kind of money. It wasn't a big deal to me because we were never hurting for money or anything. I had some car troubles, which took a good chunk from me, but it never broke me. I wasn't with Daniel for his money. As I mentioned earlier, we made about the same amount, and I knew nothing about his family before we started dating. But once we started getting more serious, he confided in me about his family, and that was a big thing.

He told me that sometimes they can act like big money too, really uptight and judgmental. I laughed it off, though, thinking, okay, so I might have one of those in-laws to deal with. with. Then came the first time that I met his family. We were going to a cookout they were having for his dad's birthday. I even made sure to dress nice to make a good impression, and on our way there, Daniel reminded me that whatever his mom said, I shouldn't take it personally. Again, he was really stressing this, so it made me a little nervous. Guys, his mother was standing on the

patio when we arrived with a cardigan draped over her shoulders. I'm not even joking. I had never seen anyone do that in real life. She had this large pearl necklace on with matching earrings, a light blue dress, it was the whole cliche. She shook my hand limply with a clearly fake smile. His dad then came out and greeted us and shook my hand as well. They were verbally polite otherwise, and led me into their very large and nice house. While out back, his mom Maggie immediately began to assess me. I clearly came up short to her standards. Now, I won't sit here and pretend that it didn't sting, though.

I was the first kid in my family to go to and complete college, and I was and still am very proud of that. But it wasn't a university, so she questioned how legitimate my degree was. Daniel supported me the entire time, however, and constantly tried to talk me up and I appreciated it. But the bottom line was, I was dating their son, not them. We didn't have to like each other. So when we showed up to family events, I brought Maggie's favorite wine, learned which

topics to avoid, and eventually reached a kind of cold truce with them. We co-existed for the most part. was until we got engaged a year later. His mother called me offering to go with me to choose some of our arrangements. She wanted so badly to pay for our wedding, but I knew Maggie too well. If she paid, she would be choosing everything and I was not going to let that happen. The wedding wasn't going to be huge, and we already knew what we wanted. But I was trying to be nice and agreed to let her go with us. It was Maggie, my sister, Danny's sister-in-law, Grace, his brother's wife, because she was actually really cool compared to the rest of them, and myself. Once we got to the flower shop,

I had already spoken with the owner about color choices, so she went to grab them, and Maggie asked if she could have a moment with me alone. It was strange, but I accepted and walked away to speak to her. She pulled me away from this consultation to tell me, or rather demand, that I sign a prenuptial agreement. She was very calm about it, I'll admit, and even tried to make it sound reasonable, like she was doing me a favor by bringing it up. She said that everyone in her family had signed one, and it wasn't a big deal. It was just to protect the family. I was just kind of in shock at that moment, so I told her I would talk it over with Danny, and if he wanted to be. me to sign one, than I would.

I remember her looking just absolutely annoyed with my response, but I stood firm on my decision. She walked back to the table, and as I sat down, she told me something else came out and quickly left, demanding that Grace go with her. She apologized, but went along. I think Grace tried to stay on her good side, as she had been part of the family for a few years at this point, so I wasn't mad about her leaving. In fact, I was more relaxed, and I could enjoy my time picking out my flower arrangements with my sister. When I got home, I told Danny about what his mother suggested, and he was not only surprised by her asking, but upset.

He had no idea, and according to him, she wouldn't ask him because she probably already knew that he would have said no. He told me not to worry about it and that there was no reason to sign one, and then we moved on. We got married. Maggie was passive the entire time, but it was a great day. There was another thing about his family that I haven't mentioned yet. They had monthly family meetings that they were, I guess, required to go to. I don't mean family dinners or get-togethers. It was a meeting for his parents.

Danny and his two siblings. Those of us that were married into the family were not allowed to be there. Danny explained that they usually were just very business professional style of asking, how are you doing, how are the kids, etc. His sister, Kate, had two kids already. Then they would spend a majority of the time talking about what they, the parents, were doing and would bring up any monetary changes. Like if they were buying new property or investing in new stocks,

or something. It all seemed very strange, and I'll remind you that this was something that was very normal for Danny. So to have me come in and tell him how weird that is for a family and then see how my family acts around each other, it was a bit of an eye-opener for him. He was invited to all of my family events. There was nothing that he couldn't go to. I didn't care to attend his family meetings, so I was happy to have that time to not be.

there, but he definitely started seeing how weird it actually was. So now, explaining those meetings, I'll take you forward a bit more to explain that about eight months after our wedding, I got pregnant. And yes, it was planned to an extent. We just didn't expect it to happen so fast. We told my family at a party we went to, and they were all excited and very happy for us. then we announced it at a family dinner with Danny's family. Grace, as expected, was elated for us. I had told her before the party because I knew she would actually care. But she kept her emotions in check at the dinner.

His dad had nice words, but his mom just kept her fake smile that I recognized from a mile away. She didn't say anything to me, but she tapped Danny on the arm and smiled. She loved her two grandkids from her daughter, so I only hoped that she treated them better than she treated me. Later on, she asked a lot of questions about the baby that didn't even cross our minds yet, like what school they would go to, or how we would handle the certain milestones. I just remember Danny laughing and telling her, hey, can we have the kid first, Mom? Just really strange questions and certainly not the same ones that my family asked. Then, about two months later, we had another dinner at their place, and that's when she brought

something up that was entirely unexpected. The dinner included his parents, his brother and his wife, Grace, and us. Kate and her small family were not there, which I was seeing more and more, and I completely understood that, too. Then as we were finishing up our meals, his mom said they needed to discuss something with me that was important for the family. I was confused and wondering what she could possibly have up her sleeve. But what I was not expecting was for her to get up, grab a folder and pass it to me,

with papers in it to sign a DNR request. Yeah, she had this full do not resuscitate request typed up by their family lawyer that she wanted me to sign. I was shocked. Why would she think I needed something like this for myself? A 32-year-old woman with no complications or risk factors. There was no medical reason for it. I asked as much, and she stumbled over her words,

saying that because we never knew what could happen to us and we should always be prepared. She even mentioned that anything could happen during childbirth. But to me, being prepared would be setting up life insurance or something similar, not a DNR. I told her I wasn't going to sign it, and in fact it was creepy. She looked like I had just thrown something at her. She looked so offended. She told me that I was very selfish, and it became quite the argument. Other than being selfish, she told me that it wasn't that big of a deal, because Grace signed one too.

But when I asked if anyone else had signed it in the immediate family, she said no. Is it not weird that us married into the family had to sign a DNR? Kate's husband Patrick, who also married into the family, refused to sign it too. And so did I. And don't worry, by the look on his face, my husband didn't know about this either. I went and sat in the car while Danny wrapped stuff up and we left. I remember just dwelling on it in the car and then in bed. I couldn't get past the way she said,

Well, we just never know what could happen tomorrow and we should all be prepared. All I could think was knowing how Maggie is with her way of life and her money. She didn't want to take any chances with medical expenses, as if we would ever consider asking them for help. Danny did apologize saying that he had no idea she had done this. he didn't even know that Callie and Patrick were offered one too. Danny stood up to his mom to an extent, but this had me hitting my boiling point. It probably didn't help that I was also pregnant.

But with this, I told him that he needed to set some boundaries with his parents if this was going to work. But I also told him that if I was going to cause a rift between him and his family, that I would leave, because I certainly was not going to deal with it. He promised me that he would handle it, and to no surprise, there was an emergency family meeting two days later. This is where Daniel realized how horrible his parents were, too. At the meeting, that I wasn't allowed to go to, of course, his parents told him that they had done a background check on me and my family. They had looked into relatives that I hadn't seen since I was a kid, relatives that were dead, and they told him that I was a risk to the family,

that I was just a demon along with the rest of my family, and that after I had the kid, I would leave and try to take him and the family for all of their money. We had never asked them for help for anything, and I have never had to have Danny pay for any of my personal expenses. We always figured out our problems together, with no outside help. I was appalled and furious that she would say any of her. of this, but also honestly, not surprised, because I knew she never cared for me.

But to my surprise, Daniel unloaded on her and after all was said and done, he cut them off, and we haven't seen them since. This was about the time that I really got to know his sister Kate, and she opened up about how overbearing her mom was since they were kids, and she wasn't going to put up with it. Their relationship began cracking, when she started dating, and when she met Patrick and then had kids, they really stopped seeing them all together. And now, we're also no contact with them. We had to change the locks because they showed up unannounced several times, claiming it was for a wellness check because their son wasn't returning their calls, obviously. After that, they sent us a bill demanding that we pay

the lawyer fees for writing up the DNI and the PI that looked into my family. We never did, and in return we actually filed a restraining order. We now have an awesome family with two kids. We have regular get-togethers with Kate, and sometimes Grace joins us on outings. His brother, I think, is a little too tangled into their lies that he refuses to stand up to them, but there seems to be a truce with Grace talking to us, which I know has to burn Maggie. When my kids are older, I will let them choose to see or meet to them. their grandparents, but until then, I'm too afraid of what they might try to do or say to my own

kids to let them meet them. So, for now, we'll avoid his delusional parents, and share the love that my family gives us. Just no matter who you are, I recommend standing up for yourself and your spouse, if you truly love them. I want to start this story by saying that my experience has a good resolution, and I am okay, and I've moved on. But, at the time of this story, my school life was hell, and I didn't think anyone cared, which made it even more dangerous for me. I'm a mother now, and I try to talk to my kids as much as possible about similar issues. I don't want them or any other kid to feel alone if they are in a similar situation. To begin this story, I was born with a cleft palate.

It was corrected surgically when I was very young, and by all intents and purposes, it was corrected successfully. However, it did leave me with a scar and a slight speech impediment. My parents had me going to a speech therapist to try and fix it, but it was always still there. If I really slowed down and focused on speaking, I could do it without issue, but if I get excited or speak fast, it's there. The problem with this is that some kids can be really cruel. The school that I went to was fine. I had a handful of really close friends,

and I rarely had people that made fun of me. It was probably because we all practically grew up together, but my family ended up moving to a different city, putting me in a different school district. So, now, I would be attending me, middle school alone. I didn't have any friends there or even siblings, no friendly faces to comfort me, and with new people seeing me, my scar and speech became center stage for them. I did my best to appear normal, even if I was incredibly nervous and shy, but when the teacher

asked about me, I was thankful she didn't make me stand at the front of the class. She just asked me my name, any nicknames I prefer to go by, and where we came from, if I wanted to say. The city I was from had a popular attraction, so she asked about that, and I was happy to talk about it, because we had gone a few times. When I did, my speech started speeding up, and I mispronounced something. Immediate giggles from some people in the room. The teacher stopped them, but even if it wasn't about me, it hit a nerve and shut me down.

From there, my school days became hell, and it was all. thanks to two girls named Brianna and Kelsey. They seemed to make it their mission. It started with them asking about the scar and asking me to say certain words. When I would say it slowly and correctly, they laughed about me being slow. When I said it faster and incorrectly, it was just as funny to them. From then, I would catch them mispronouncing things, clearly making fun of me. I did my best to not talk around them, and just avoid them as much as possible. And no, I never told anyone either. At that age, it felt more like tattling, and I didn't think anyone would or could do anything about it. So I lived with it. I did my best to ignore them in school and not show that it

affected me. I came home and told my parents that school was a-okay. Then there were more direct things. During lunch, they made it clear that I was not allowed to sit anywhere near their table. One of the things they always said was that I would spit all over their food. So other people would avoid me. Anyone that hung out with them or talked to them. I had a few that I would call acquaintances at this new school, but that was it. None of them that I was close to like I was at my old school, so I didn't even have someone to vent to. I felt, alone with this. I either ate alone

or at a catch-all table, the ones where anyone could sit because no one there talked to each other. I went to class, kept my head down, I didn't raise my hand or participate in things. If offered, I tried to do work in projects alone

or would do what I needed to, and that was it. I didn't ask for help, I didn't give ideas. I just went with whatever everyone else wanted to do. I want to include here that I would not recommend this for anyone ever. I just didn't know what else to do because at the time, mental health and feelings weren't really something my parents talked about.

But no matter how much I tried to avoid them, they would find a way to get to me. I avoided them in the halls. I even took a long way around, almost making myself late to class, but I did it. They didn't like that. They started following me in the halls. They would spit on me as they tried to butcher a word. I wore a lot of long sleeves and kept my hair pulled back because of how often they spat on me,

as a way to wipe it away easier. They also really tried to get me to start a fight. They would passively shove me in the hall and egg me on to hit them. This was something quite common in this school. people would get pushed and pushed until it boiled over, and the person would fight back, and they would use that as a reason to swing back and claim self-defense. I knew what they were trying to do, but I never took the bait. I continued to make myself small and just let it go. This only seemed to give them more ammo to target me because I didn't fight back.

Then there was the day in social studies class. Our teacher was called out of the room for something, and directed all of us to read a specific chapter in the book and answer the questions at the end of it. As it goes, the teacher left the room and most of the students started talking. I had nothing to do but read, but shortly after, I got a folded up piece of paper tossed at my desk. I look back and see a guy in the motion of tossing something. It was a guy that I never had issues with. He didn't make fun of me, but we also never really did.

talked. He shrugged his shoulders backwards, directing it to the note sender, Brianna, and a guy named Kyle. Kyle hung out with Brianna and Kelsey, and was one of their lap dogs that made fun of me, too. So I wasn't surprised to see them huddled close together looking at me and giggling. I don't know why I did it, but I opened the note. I won't go into detail about everything that was written or contained in the note, but I won't go into detail about everything that was written or contained in the note, but I will say that it was filled with just pure hatred. The first one was just filled with slurs and was mocking me.

There was another note thrown to me that was asking a few personal and kind of gross questions. And then there was another note that had a crude drawing of me with quite a detailed threat on it. That one is still the most vivid. I told myself not to react to them. though. I knew that's what they wanted. I folded them all up together, and I shoved them in my pocket. They threw two more to me, but I didn't even open them. They just went straight into my pocket. When the teacher came back into the room, everyone quieted down, and class continued.

Once it was over, I went to the restroom and I threw all the notes away in the trash can. I was hoping that no one would see me toss them in there and read them. I went to two more classes that day, and during the second one, right before we were let out for lunch, I was called to the office. They told me that it wouldn't take long, so I wouldn't miss lunch, and I didn't think anything of it, so I just went to the office, wondering why I was needed. Once I got there, I was brought to a back office by the lady in the front, and she asked me what I wanted for lunch, and brought me a tray. I was confused. Why was I eating lunch in the back room? It was like I was in detention, and I didn't know what I had done.

Shortly after, while I was eating my lunch, the principal came into the room and asked me how I was doing. I told her I was fine. She asked me how I was doing in class, or if I was having any issues in them. I thought maybe this was because I was new to the school, so maybe they were just checking. in on a new student. I told her the classes were fine, too. But then she became a bit more direct in her questions. She asked me if I was having problems with any of my classmates. I still said no. Then she specifically mentioned Brianna, Kelsey, and Kyle. She must have seen her on my face because she told me that I could tell her anything, and that her office was a safe space.

I remember feeling really conflicted, wanting to tell her, but I also knew that Brianna's mom was the gym coach. I figured they would just take her side. Then the principal pulled out some of the notes from the earlier class, and in came the waterworks. I finally admitted to someone what had been happening. I told her about the bullying, the physical altercations, and as she now saw, the threats. I told her how long it had been happening, and I remember the sadness or disappointment on her face. After finally confessing and going through many tissues, she told me that everything would be okay, that they would take care of it, and that I wouldn't need to worry about them anymore.

She asked if I wanted to remain in her office for the rest of the hour, and I accepted while she got my work from the respective class. I went to the remaining classes after that, and noticed that my three bullies were not in class, and I didn't see them in the halls either. When I went home that day, my parents also talked to me about the notes, and while they were very caring and supportive, they were surprised that I didn't tell them.

I learned that more people cared about what I was going through than I expected. including the girl that found these notes. Turns out, a girl in my social studies class named Priya saw the notes being passed to me and knew they were trouble as she was also once targeted by these three. She found the notes in the trash can and when she saw the threats, she turned them into the principal. Based on what they saw, they also called them out of class and to my horror, they actually found a pocket knife in Brianna's bag. Their threatening note mentioned a lot about cutting me.

Of course, we don't know for sure if she intended on using it on me, but the fact that she had threatened this and she had a knife scared the hell out of me. We were in middle school, and she was possibly doing something that you cannot undo. I didn't see the three of them for quite some time until Kyle and Kelsey returned. Kelsey actually wrote me a letter that she handed me in the hallway, using my name and being very gentle. I expected it was just another jab, but it actually seemed very genuine. She had apologized for everything and realized what she did was wrong.

I was shocked. It didn't seem, rushed, or forced. Her words sounded genuine. Kyle did the same, but it was shorter, and he explained that he had no idea what Brianna was up to, but admitted that he was wrong, too. As for Brianna, she never came back, and I never saw her again. Clearly, the three of them got into some trouble, but I never expected any of this, and it was all really thanks to Priya.

She stood up for someone who she barely knew at the time. We became friends after that. We did things together throughout the rest of middle and high school, but we grew apart after, different life goals and whatnot. I even worked with Kelsey on some things in school, and we were both totally fine with each other. I never got the feeling that she was faking it either. Overall, I feel like I got really lucky in my situation. Middle school became hell for me that year, but somebody was looking out for me.

And I learned how much others really wanted to help, too, both adults and students alike. And because of that, they changed the lives of at least four. four kids. I hope all for the better. I know Kelsey changed, and probably Kyle, and I hope wherever Brianna is, that she grew out of that phase too.

And if you're ever in a situation, be it school or work, don't let someone try to put you below them. Speak up for you or someone else that you see going through it as it could save someone's life.

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 one 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 slash as the Raven Dreams, for early access to all this content. Check out the website, astherravendreams.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 the 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. On July 16th, the Hawk lands on Netflix. From the mind of Will Farrell. Oh, Mama.

Back. Comes a new original series. Get ready, get ready. That's it. Did I stutter? When an iconic pro golfer. Lonnie? Honey.

Hocked! Takes one last swing of greatness. You were a big shot golfer. I still am a big shot golfer. No one. Dad, I'm the Hawk now. We'll stand in his way. That's how it's done.

The Hawk, only on Netflix, July 16th.