As The Raven Dreams Podcast - Nevermore Storytime - True Horror Stories Vol. 07
Episode Date: July 27, 2020Includes Audio from Episode 43 on The As The Raven Dreams Channel - This is a collection of Terrifying TRUE Creepy Stories! ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯... ✯ ✯ ✯ Do YOU have a story that could forever haunt the nightmares of the nevermore? OR have you written a terrifying tale of intrigue? Send it my way to have it featured on the channel! ⇢ https://astheravendreams.reddex.app/submit ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ All stories HAVE BEEN USED on my Youtube channel And If you would like more information please check the episode listed in the Description. I am re-using my audio from those videos, and all stories are used with EXPLICIT permission from the users. Story 1 by iStayScared Story 2 by Berton Story 3 by Anonymously Submitted Story 4 Submitted But I don't have info ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ Don't click this link... ⇢ http://bit.ly/Sub2Rvn BECOME A PART OF THE NEVERMORE⇠ Support The Nevermore! ⇢ https://linktr.ee/RavenDreamsYT REALLY Support the Nevermore! ⇢ https://www.patreon.com/AsTheRavenDreams Be Haunted By The Truth! ⇢ https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLyjanWDZygZ-cq9gavLVSGHbuC9XkpYkW Eat Your CreepyPasta! (and other spooky stories) ⇢ https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLyjanWDZygZ_RmFLHdyo7XdwhcsyR3rFU Investigate With The Raven! ⇢ https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLyjanWDZygZ8I6zEfKHsNlGDH0kOy_6iM --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/astheravendreams/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/astheravendreams/support Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Via-Rai, the voice that we love that we love.
Welcome back, friends,
to another episode of the Nevermore Storytime.
Today we have a fantastic collection of stories for your listening pleasure,
but before we hop into that, I would like to hand it over to myself for a pre-recorded message.
So take it away, Raven.
Hello, my lovely, lovely listeners, today we have a very interesting and very special video for you.
Today's video is only four stories, but it is four user-submitted stories from people who watch my channel.
These are stories that were submitted to me via the link down in the video.
the description where you can click and submit your own story to me. These are the only four
stories I've received, and I would love to have more, because I would love to do this more often.
So if you have a story for me, please click that link and, you know, send it my way. I would love to
read it for the channel. I don't really have much more to say other than, you know, the basics.
These are four user-submitted stories, and thank you to the users who submitted them. Yeah,
enjoy. So my dad is from Kentucky, and that's where most of his family still lives. But we moved
Ohio before I was even born, and that's where we currently live. We used to visit his family a few
times a year since as far back as I can even remember. I say used to because I haven't gone in
almost 10 years. I'm 25 now. The long rides to Kentucky were always so boring. I had a Sony Walkman
that I would try to listen to on the way, but my dad's hillbilly singing overpowered even the highest
volume on the damn thing, so most of the trip was as horrible as you can imagine. The one thing I always
looked forward to, was getting to hang out with my cousin Jay. He was exactly one year younger
than me, literally born on the same day. He was just as easy to get along with. There was never
that awkward, hey, how have you been, moment where you have to adjust being around someone again.
We always picked up right where we left off, no matter how long it had been. Once we made it into
Kentucky, we would always meet at our grandparents' house. Most of the family would already be there
waiting for us when they knew we were coming. I always remember everything happening pretty much
the same way every time, at least on the first day. We would usually stay the whole weekend,
and that Friday we would spend the night at our grandparents. All the parents would stay up late in
the kitchen, drinking and playing cards. The younger kids would sit in the living room and watch
cartoons with Grandma. Me and Jay, and our other younger cousin Robbie, stayed in the back room.
I guess it could have been considered a second living room, but we always just called it the back room.
We would always try to stay up late and watch scary movies. I don't know why, but it seemed like
like we ended up watching the same movie every time. I don't remember the name, but I clearly
remember one certain scene. Some monk-looking guys in a jail cell, and he ends up squeezing his
head between the bars. I can't tell you why that scene sticks out more than the others. It's not
like it terrified me or anything. Anyways, moving on, Saturdays were always up in the air. Sometimes
we'd visit other family members, other times we would go shopping at the malls and stores.
This particular Saturday was different than the usual. All of the adults,
decided they wanted to go gamble, so our grandma agreed to stay and watch over us for the day.
The only people left in the house were me, Jay, Robbie, Grandma, and Great Grandma.
There's a reason why I haven't brought my Great Grandma up yet. That's because I honestly
didn't know much about her. What I did know was enough to make me not want to know. She was very
sick, and she had been for many years. At a younger age, I guess I was just too scared to ask what was
wrong. I only remember the times when family members would rush into her room when she needed something.
She was too weak to get out of bed, so the god-awful zombie-like moans is what got everybody's attention.
Her room was right down the hall from the living room, the first door on the right. She never left
that room, and unless she needed attended to, nobody went in there. At least that's what it seemed
like, as if she was a caged monster being kept quarantined from the rest of the family.
And from some of the stories I would overhear, I could understand something wasn't right.
stories of how her room would drop in temperature out of nowhere,
or how her bed would shake uncontrollably.
Sometimes she would talk to herself in a language that no one else could understand.
Once again, hearing all this at a young age,
of course, I thought it was terrifying,
but I never put much more thought into it.
Anyways, back to that Saturday.
All the adults had just left to go do whatever,
me, Jay, and Robbie were in the living room playing the Sega.
Our grandma said she needed to get some laundry done
and went down into the basement.
I can't recall what game we were playing, but I remember it was only two-player, so one of us always had to wait for our turn.
While I was on the couch waiting for my turn, I saw something out of the corner of my eye.
I looked down the hall and noticed our great-grandma's door was cracked open a bit.
I quickly looked back at the TV trying to ignore all reasons on why her door would be opened, even just a little.
Then something else caught my eye, and almost as if I was being forced to, I looked.
through the crack in the door I could see her, just standing there, hunched over a bit and staring at me.
The fact that I've never locked eyes with her before was probably what scared me the most.
I slowly turned back towards Jay and Robbie, who could definitely tell that my mood had changed.
Robbie asked what was wrong, and all I could say was, she's looking at us.
Right away, they both jumped to their feet and peeped their heads around the corner.
Then Robbie blurted out, she probably needs help, as he started to rush out of the room,
toward the basement. Jay and I stood there in silence not really sure what to do. We tried to ease the
tension by joking with each other, but that was cut short when we heard her door slowly creak open a bit more.
Then she slid her old, bony hand through the crack and motions for me to come toward the room.
To this day, I honestly don't know why I didn't just wait. I guess I felt like if I didn't go
and something bad happened, it would be my fault somehow. So, I nervously made my way into the hallway
and right outside her door. I could feel my heart beating faster. My hands were shaking so bad I could
barely move them. I looked back at Jay, and he was giving me this look, like he should have just
said goodbye to me while he still had the chance. Then her door opened slowly, but all the way.
She was still hunched over, clinging to the wall, and looking up at me. It was the first time I had
ever been this close to her, so I was not prepared for what I saw. She had whiteish gray hair that was
long in some spots and shorter in other spots, but completely bald in a lot of other spots.
Her skin was wrinkled, but looked almost as if it was melting together. She had color in one
eye, and the other was completely white. I don't know how well it was hiding it, but I was horrified.
If the sight wasn't bad enough, she was also making these deep scratch-like noises every time she
took a breath. Then she started mumbling something softly. I couldn't hear, so I tilt my head
down closer to her and tried to hear her better. The deep breathing stopped, and I heard what sounded
like a raspy laughter coming from her. Confused, I pulled my head back only to see her stone face
evil stare right at me. For a second, I swear there was a yellow tint in her colored eye. Her mouth
moved. It was definitely her talking, but it didn't sound like it was coming from her body.
It was deep and sinister, and sounded like it was coming from the ceiling. Get the hell out!
Of my house.
I will never forget those words.
I turned around and saw Jay in the hall, who clearly heard what I did.
His mouth was wide open, and he looked like fear just slapped the hell out of him.
At the same time, our grandma came rushing through the kitchen and right past me into the room.
Jay, Robbie, and I sat in the living room as we heard Grandma shut the door, and the room went silent.
It must have been a good ten minutes before our grandma came back out and sat down in the living room with us.
I was the one to break the silence by telling her what had just happened.
She became emotional as she went on to tell us everything that had happened to my great-grandma,
how she only became ill after this house was bought.
I guess Great-grandma warned Grandma about the house.
Apparently, when the house was for sale, and they were looking at it,
great-grandma heard the voice of who she said was Satan,
and he told her to get out of the house.
So she tried everything she could to turn Grandma away from buying the house,
but in the end, she bought it anyway.
then great-grandma became very sick and had to move in, knowing it was seemingly cursed.
She blamed this house for her sickness every day, but Grandma said she was just losing her mind,
until the not-so-normal stuff started happening.
Grandma didn't seem like someone who would make something up to try and scare us,
especially if it was about her own mother.
It made me think if that's why things were the way they always were,
why nobody ever went into a room, and why she never came out to see anybody.
It was also a lot to take in, and most of it I didn't really understand.
understand yet. So I asked her white great-grandma would tell me to get out. What did I do?
Grandma looked at me with the most serious look she has ever given to me and said,
What you heard in there wasn't her. I've heard it too. It's something else.
The look in her eyes, the tone in her voice, I'll never forget her telling me that.
Even to this day, when I think back, I can clearly hear her voice as if it was for the first time.
After leaving that weekend, we found out about halfway through the week that great grandma had
passed away. Although I wasn't close to her, it hit me in a very different way, a dark way. I felt as
if it wasn't just old age or her sickness, but something a lot more insidious. First, some backstory.
Growing up, my parents would foster children. We had a group of kids living with us, and I became
good friends at the time with one that was around my age. I don't feel right using his real name,
so for now, I'll just call him Bud. Eventually, Bud was taken back to his family, and as time went on,
we lost contact. Now for the story. Early 2008, I had turned 18 and decided I wanted to switch
schools and move out of the same town I had been in forever. I was staying with a cousin in Rapid City,
South Dakota. I had gotten word that Bud had committed suicide. I felt terrible after hearing this.
I was in the basement of my cousin's aunt's house doing laundry and thinking about everything that has
happened, but mostly about Bud and how terrible I felt that I wasn't there to talk to him and to be a better
friend. I never felt right in the basement there. You never quite felt alone. As I was thinking things
over, I got mad. Mad at the idea that he would do something, like that mad at myself, mad at the
world at the time. I picked up some of my laundry, and in a rage, I threw it across the room.
I went upstairs and started watching TV with my cousin, his friends, and his aunt, who we should
call Carrie. Ever since I left the basement, I felt uneasy, and Carrie could see that I was not
acting my usual self, and she asked me what was wrong. I said nothing and we all continued to watch
TV, until my cousins and his friend decided to go hang out in the back room. She asked me once again
what was wrong, so I started to tell her. I told her about what had happened with Bud, and who he was,
and how I cared for him like family. I felt even more uncomfortable as I went on telling what had
happened. All the while, she sat there listening and understanding. All the while I feel this
intense feeling of being watched. I start to cry as I tell her I feel almost responsible for him
committing suicide, because I wasn't there for him as a friend or as a family member. The feeling of
being watched is almost to the point of unbearable as I dry my eyes. I ask her, do you ever get the
feeling that you're being watched? As her face of understanding and sorrow changed to fear,
the hair on the back of my neck stand up and she yells, where? I, in almost shock at her reaction,
point toward the kitchen from where I felt the stare.
She looks in the direction I'm pointing in,
and just as soon as she looked and in the best way I could describe it,
all hell breaks loose.
Dishes start flying, smashing into walls,
as if someone was in a furious rage.
Doors in the cupboard flew open,
and you could hear breaking glass.
I feel fear.
As I look at Carrie, she calmly goes to a shelf,
she grabs a box off the shelf, and opens it,
pulls out dried sage in a lighter,
and begins to fill the room with smoke from the plant.
She walks toward the kitchen,
and everything starts to stop.
She keeps walking through the house and opens the basement door
and almost seems to usher something back down the stairs.
She comes back into the room and asks me,
Are you okay?
I say, um, what the hell just happened?
I assume my face had to be pale from the event that had just taken place.
She informed me that whatever is living in the basement,
she said it was a demon, and she's had to deal with it before.
She tells me one of her own foster kids that she had taken in,
had an experience where the kid was attacked by this demon.
This boy I met, he weighed maybe 95 pounds, super skinny.
And when it attacked him, it took four people to hold him down
so they could perform some sort of exorcism on him.
Apparently, when I was in the basement and threw the laundry,
this thing took notice that I was in a vulnerable state
and was trying to attach itself to me.
I don't know how to end this story, so I'll just end it with this.
Please, everyone, anyone, be careful out there,
and don't take the people you love for granted,
I'm glad I wasn't alone in this situation.
My story may not be as interesting as a lot of other people's stories,
but it's important to me, and honestly, it's an event that changed my life,
probably even saved it.
For some backstory, when I was 23, I married the love of my life,
and honestly thought that my life was set.
She was the one person that had always been there with me through all of my hardships.
She lived me up when I was down,
and she encouraged me to live my dreams of being a financial advisor.
I know, not the most exciting dream job.
I enrolled in classes to actually start down the path of being a financial advisor,
a lot of really boring math classes and classes about investing, etc.
I got a job as a teller at a bank.
It was easy and the hours worked out for my classes.
Through all this, she always pushed me to keep going.
She knew it was what I wanted to do for a living, and she's always encouraged it.
I worked my ass off for our future, and I pretty much put in all the time I could physically manage.
Because of this, I was always mentally drained between working with people all day and doing classwork all
night. I was never really up to doing anything. Then, one night in July, I had gotten home late and
was, as stated, absolutely exhausted. When I got home, I fell onto the couch and basically passed out.
About an hour or so, she woke me for my afternoon nap and asked me if I wanted her to get something
for us to eat, since she hadn't had the chance to make dinner, and I clearly wasn't going to.
I told her that was fine, and then I could go for Taco Bell. She agreed, told me she loved me,
gave me a quick kiss and said she'd be back in 20 minutes.
I smiled and shut my eyes again.
I dozed off for a few minutes, and when I woke up, I looked at my watch.
It had been around 40 minutes since she left.
I was confused, but not overly concerned.
Maybe traffic had been bad, maybe there was construction somewhere along the way.
I pulled out my phone and called her, but she didn't answer.
Again, I thought maybe she was driving and just didn't want to be on her phone,
so I thought nothing of it.
I got up from the couch, went to the restroom, did a few other things to occupy about 10 or 15 minutes,
then I called her again. This time someone answered, but it wasn't my wife.
Honestly, a lot of details are a bit foggy, and I'm not going to get into all the details,
but I remember being told that she had been an accident, and I remember pretty much just being told that she died on impact.
Apparently, some drunk driver had run the red light while she was leaving the Taco Bell and T-bone the driver's side.
He lived, albeit with some fairly severe injuries, but she was.
gone. This obviously was the most devastating thing that had ever happened to me. I was able to take
some time off work, and I managed to get some time off school because of what had happened,
but no amount of time off is ever enough to help when you lose someone like this.
I remember sitting at home and just staring at the ceiling one night, thinking about how
unfair it was that the guy that killed her got to live, and I just remember crying and rage.
That was the night that I started drinking heavily, and the first night that I'd ever blacked out.
It's almost ironic. A drunk driver is the reason she died, yet I turned to drinking to drown out my problems.
I did this on and off for a month or two. I ended up not going back to class, and ended up losing my job because I missed too many days of work from being hung over.
I pretty much just paid the rent and the necessary bills to keep my home and slept all day after that.
This went on for a couple weeks, blacking out, waking up, lying in bed staring at the ceiling, getting drunk, rinse, repeat.
Then, after about two weeks of this, I woke up from one of my drunken stupers to what I thought was someone shaking me.
I remember feeling like someone had put their hand on me and pushed me, but when I jumped up, there was no one there.
After my mini panic attack, I laid back on the bed and closed my eyes, and that's when I heard her voice.
I remember distinctly that I heard my wife's voice telling me that I needed to stop before I killed myself.
It was honestly as clear as the last night that I saw her, when I heard it.
I felt like my heart had stopped and my stomach muscles tensed.
She didn't say anything more, and she didn't have to.
I knew right then and there that I was ruining everything that we had ever tried to build,
and that she wouldn't have wanted that for me.
That was the last night that I drank, the last night that I walled in self-pity,
it was just the last night that I did all of that.
I woke up and made a promise to myself and to her that I was going to turn my life around.
From that moment on, I was going to live the best life I could for her.
There's not a super happy ending to this story, unfortunately.
It's been about two years now, and I've been sober since.
It wasn't easy to stop drinking, and it wasn't easy to force myself to keep going, but I did it for her.
That night, I believe that she saw what I was doing to myself, and she saw where I was going to end up.
So she came to me one last time to get me to stop.
I never went back to school, which was probably a dumb thing to do, but I'm back to working at a bank, and I'm happy with where I am.
If she hadn't come to me that night, I probably would be.
would have ended up drinking myself to death.
When I was 19, my friends and I met this woman walking in our neighborhood at like two in the
morning. She was probably about 32, she said she was 26, and was really, really beautiful.
We were on our skateboards, and she asked if she could ride one with us.
So, of course, my friend and I, being the typical teenage skaters, were trying to impress her,
and she caught on to a connection with me really quick.
Her and I started walking down the street when my friends got distracted.
We were just talking BS and trading stories,
but after a while, I started getting this very dark vibe from her,
like a switch in my intuition just flicked.
And I've always been good at reading people,
but at that age, I had a strong bit of naivety in my veins,
especially when looking at a beautiful older woman.
But nonetheless, the dark vibe really started consuming me,
and the more I looked into her eyes,
the more I noticed there was something odd about her,
but in a very bad way.
I suggested we go back to my friends, and as I turned around, she stopped me by pulling on my arm.
She was a very small woman, and I've never been a very small guy, but her jerking on my arm felt like it was a grown man's.
I asked her what the problem was, and she just kind of looked up, as if to think of an excuse, and chalked it up to nothing, sorry.
So we went back to my friends, and I pulled a chance to talk to my best friend in private and told him what happened.
he of course always had the typical teenage boy mindset
and read into it as if the woman was actually trying to get me alone to sleep with me
and his confidence started to appeal to my wishful side and turned my worry away
so he went on a skating adventure with her up main street a few blocks
and she stopped us and asked us if we could help her with the favor
I asked what the favor was and she said her ex-boyfriend's house is close to where we were at
and that she just wanted to stop by and grab some stuff she left there
I thought it sounded pretty reasonable, the way she was explaining it all.
She said her ex-boyfriend and her had a baby that didn't make it,
and after it passed, they constantly fought until their separation.
She told me he'd be fine with her stopping by and assured us that all was well.
Well, we show up at the house, and, mind you,
I'd lived in that neighborhood for close to five years,
and skated and ran those blocks constantly.
So, I was fairly familiar with the houses in the environment.
We pulled up to this large old house that my friends and I had known for some
time that nobody lived there and hadn't before I even moved into the neighborhood. She stopped and said,
This is it. Can you come in with me? My best friend gave me eyes, telling me that he now knew what I was
talking about, and so I diverged from him and walked up to her. I told her that I think she had the wrong
house, and that I've known this house to be vacant for the last five odd years. She kept coming up with
any excuse to go into the house, even past my friend chiming in to validate my story. Finally, I asked her
what I should have asked her all along, which was what she was needing from the house.
That's when I had her. She got caught in her lies and had no rebuttal, save the look she gave me
earlier when she grabbed my arm back on the street, the look of mental rider's block.
I was a little more stern with her after exposing her false intentions, and told her that if she
had to grab something, she could grab it and bring it out by herself, and if it was too heavy,
we would help her get at home. Side note, she lived a block for me, which she had told me previously.
She was reluctant to go in by herself, but she managed to after a few minutes.
She went to the backyard to go open the back door.
I didn't hear a door close, so I don't believe that she even went into the building.
A few minutes later, she came back panting with the light sweat and said that what she was looking for wasn't there.
I asked her what it was, and she said it was something personal, but her ex must have taken it.
Almost immediately after saying that, she suggested that we all just head back to the street we were on because she was tired.
So we head back and start skating outside of my house like we had been.
I sat down on the curb and she sat next to me.
She started to thank me and said I reminded her of someone she used to hang out with when she was my age.
Again, she started to get this flirtatious vibe,
and my lust drew my mind away from all the odd things I'd experienced in the few hours on making her acquaintance.
She then asked if I partied at all.
I was a pretty straight-edge kid in school,
and had only been drinking for under six months and started getting into the party scene.
So, in my mind, I was super excited.
to party with this super beautiful vixen and possibly even have more of a story to tell.
For some reason, for some reason, maybe due to the excitement of the situation, I forgot literally
entirely what had gone on. I was in this tunnel vision trance all through changing and heading
to her house. By this time, it was just my best friends, his friend, and myself. We walk up to her
house and she turns to me and says, do you guys screw around with any drugs? I awkwardly just told her
that we didn't, but in a polite way, as to try and seem like I had been asked a time or two.
She didn't give a response to me, aside from looking at my other two friends, they didn't have
to say anything. She knew they weren't the type either. She went into the house, and my friend tapped
on my shoulder, and he said, Goody, I know whose house this is, and I asked him what he was
talking about, and he explained to me that there was a man that lived there alone and never came out
of the house aside from a very few times, and nobody knows who he is. Right as he said that, my
eyes snapped to the window. I recognize the house now, and I remembered whenever I skated down that street
at night a year or so prior, it always spooked my passing that house. It had this giant window on
the street side, and the light was always on. You could see this man's silhouette sitting down. It may
sound super common to anyone hearing it, and it would to me too, but it was the feeling that came
with it. He never moved, ever. It was always the same. The TV was on, and you could see the hues
from the television rays lightly hitting the wall of his living room, but it never touched his
silhouette. It remained motionless, always. Realizing my personal reoccurring experience with the house,
that dark intuitive ball returned to my stomach. I saw the man in the window, same silhouette,
same position, same television rays hitting the wall. I saw the woman walk up to the chair he was
sitting in and start talking to him. What sends chills even to my fingers as I tell you this,
is that I could make up who she was. I could see her face, the clothes she was wearing,
I could even see the look on her face,
but I couldn't make out a single detail of what he looked like.
I didn't know his look from Adam.
I told my friends we were leaving, and I went to turn around.
I told my friends we were leaving, and I went to turn around,
and almost immediately she appeared behind me, saying,
Are y'all not coming in?
I was honest with her this time, and told her,
we're not comfortable with going into this house,
and that we had changed our minds.
Her and I did this weird psychological back-and-forth conversation,
me being too polite to just flat out reject, and her cunningly but subtly trying to sway us into going into her home.
Her eyes, by this time, had that same look to match when she had grabbed me earlier, a biting look.
I finally just ripped the mulberry bush out and told her that we were going home, and that we weren't comfortable.
Her demeanor completely flipped, and she said she understood, and then it was nice meeting us.
She was so abrupt that I was relieved, but still tense all the way until we reached my bedroom.
I didn't get very much sleep at all due to my paranoid state.
The next day brought on a new confidence,
and I decided to get my best friend and go talk to the man that lived there.
When I arrived to my friend's house, he declined my invitation.
He was acting really strange and looked worse than I did trying to sleep the night before.
He told me to go ask his mom to go with me.
I thought that was super strange, but I was pretty close with her, so I asked.
She told me that the man that lived there died two months before and that nobody lives there.
She said the man was handicapped,
and that he was a really nice man.
She hadn't known much of him past a very few occasions,
but he was sweet when she had met him those few times.
That night I was terrified sick,
but I had to know what the night before was all about.
So I skateboarded down that street and passed the house.
No lights, no television hues, no man.
Since then, I've never witnessed a light on.
Nobody has ever went in or out of that house,
and I've never seen that woman again, and I never hoped to.
A few friends and I contemplated breaking into the house,
over a few drinks, but we never wound up following through.
So there you go, my dear listeners. Those were four user-submitted stories.
If you have a story that you want me to read on my channel, please click that link below in the
description and the pinned comment. Submit the story to me through that page, and I will get it
immediately. From there, I can plan this next video for these user-submitted stories.
That would be great. Thank you to everyone who submitted the stories. All the attributions and
thank yous are down in the description, if you want to look down there.
Yeah, legit. Thank you to the people who submitted these.
genuinely appreciate it. It means a lot to me to actually have user-submitted stories to read for my
channel. If you like this video, please do hit the thumbs-up button, and please do hit that
subscribe button to get more content like this, and you can leave me a comment if you feel so
inclined. That all said, I hope you have a fantastic day and a fantastic week. I will see you on the
next video, but until then, my friends, sleep well.
