As The Raven Dreams Podcast - Scary Stories For Dark Dreams - Vol 58 | (Unexplained Horror & Creepy Neighbors)

Episode Date: June 14, 2026

Today we have 12 More true scary stories with a late night ambience. Scary Stories For Dark Dreams is a collection of older stories, remastered and put together in a long form episode. This Collection includes the following stories; Creepy Unexplained Horror Stories from December 2022 & October 2023, and some Creepy Neighbor Stories from March 2024 So, turn down the lights, tune in, and let the haunting tales of everyday people take you down that dark and creepy road. Remember, these aren't just stories... these are true experiences that remind us that our world can truly be scarier than fiction. If you enjoyed this episode, be sure to like or rate the podcast, and leave me a comment with your thoughts if the platform your own supports it! 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 TIMESTAMPS One Ad After the First Story, No ads after that Story 1: 00:27 Story 2: 9:00 Story 3: 17:31 Story 4: 31:16 Story 5: 41:36 Story 6: 54:04 Story 7: 1:04:39 Story 8: 1:13:18 Story 9: 1:21:58 Story 10: 1:33:26 Story 11: 1:43:45 Story 12: 1:54:44 ----- Disclaimer ➤ Episodes include a content warning for language and sensitive/disturbing content. Listener discretion is always advised. ALL Audio and visuals on this podcast are copyright of AS THE RAVEN DREAMS / RAVEN ADAMS and may not be duplicated, in any format. Bless This Mess. None of my audio is AI Generated, I am a real person reading real stories into a real microphone. Note: The podcast nor the host endorses any advertisements played during the podcast, ads are not chosen by ATRD or Raven Adams, they are chosen automatically by the advertisement systems by the platforms that host the podcast. I do not endorse, support, or promote any opinions or statements made in any adverts played during the show. #ScaryStories #UnexplainedMysteries #GlitchInTheMatrix ➤ And Remember; You are loved, you are important, and you are valid. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Hey there, friends. Today's episode is a Dark Dreams episode. For those that are unaware, dark dreams episodes are older episodes remastered into larger collections with some nice and calming rain sounds in the background

to help you just kind of relax. So sit back, close your eyes if you can, and just take in the scariness that is our existence. And hopefully you sleep well. This happened to me nearly a decade ago, but I still remember it vividly as I still have no explanation for it. I grew up in a small town that had a single grocery store, the elementary school was also the church,

and they built a new middle school while I was still living there, and the high school was in another district. The most exciting thing to happen there was when a new pizza place was built, and that they delivered. It was mostly agricultural land, so there wasn't much there in ways of entertainment, especially for teenagers. So, needless to say, I moved after graduating. At the time, I was going to college.

I was living in a cozy little studio apartment and was broke. So, during the holiday break, I liked to go back home to gorge myself on free food and gather plenty of leftovers to last me at least a week. I had the drive pretty down. In fact, it took me about an hour and 38 minutes, give or take a few, I'm sure, depending on lights and traffic. My car told me the time and mileage that it took for each drive after shutting it off. So, after this incident, I had tracked it and remembered it since.

Anyways, the drive out there was fine. Same with the visit. I left the following Friday in order to get home and have a few days to re-reacted. coop before I went back to school. I left a little after 7 p.m. as it was already dark outside. There also weren't a lot of streetlights, so I would be relying heavily on my headlights.

I headed out, putting on an album that I knew would actually last most of the drive. However, I didn't get very far. It was about 40 minutes into the drive, and I definitely had already passed the city, where my high school was, and the football field behind it. I was on the back roads because there were hardly ever any cars taking them that late. I liked taking this way, because I could go a little over the speed limit without worries of cops.

Say whatever you want about that. As I was driving, probably getting a little bit too into the song that was playing, I started getting a flashing check engine light. my worst nightmare. I had a fairly new car, and I kept up on the maintenance. Hence, part of the reason I was broke, so I had no idea what it could be. I pulled over to the non-existent shoulder and put on my flashers. I went to the hood, using the little flashlight I kept in my glove box to see if I could clearly see a problem.

I don't know Jack about cars. So, I checked the oil, and when I was... I saw that it seemed full, and there was nothing that sprayed everywhere and no smoke, I was out of ideas. At this point, I had walked back to get into my car, wondering if I should call AAA, or just my dad, and make him make the drive into the middle of nowhere to check it out. I decided I would call my dad first, to see if he wanted to come out here, or if he would rather that I'd just have it towed back to their place. I looked down to dial out and then looked up to see what I thought were headlights coming towards me. I thought maybe they would be kind enough to stop and could help, so I hesitated on dialing out and just kept looking forward. That's when I saw the most bizarre thing happen with those lights.

Instead of seeing them slowly get closer and closer to my side, they seemed to stop and do a parallel move. so that they were directly in front of me. It was like the car was in the opposite lane and was pushed back from the side to be in front of me, ready to play chicken. It caught me off guard. But then the last thing that I remember was the two headlights then turned into a whole row of them.

It had to have been like six or ten in a row, and they were blinding. I held my hand up to block them, and that was the last thing that I remembered. The next thing I remember after that was waking up feeling cold and wet. It wasn't until I stood up and looked around that I realized where I was. I was back in the school's football field that I had already passed. I gave myself a once over to make sure I still had all of my limbs,

that I wasn't in pain or anything, just really shaken up for obvious reasons. I had no idea how I had gotten there, or what happened. I didn't even have my phone on me. The only thing I could do was walk to the road until I could find my car again. I figured that that would take less time to walk to my car than back to my parents' place. It did take me some time, and as expected, no car ever drove by, but I saw my car with the lights still on. I had never been happier to see it. I got my second wind and pretty much jogged all the way to my car, getting in and locking all the doors.

Then I grabbed my phone to check the time. It had been four hours. I left around seven, and it was past eleven at this point. I had a text from my sister asking if I had made it home okay, as well as a missed call from her. but that wasn't all. There was also a call out that was made to my dad's phone, but it was less than a second. It was like I had called and immediately hung up.

And the time matched about the time that I would have pulled over. So I was legitimately missing four hours of time, and I couldn't recall anything. I sat there for a while trying to bring the events back, but nothing ever came to me. And in case anyone was curious, I had not been drinking, I wasn't high and I hadn't used anything, and I wasn't on any medications.

I've never had medical issues that would cause me to pass out either. I called my sister and told her that I'd had car troubles and totally forgot to message her when I got home. I got home that night, and I hardly slept. I was still trying to figure out what had happened. I had to tell somebody about it, though, so I called my sister the next day and talked to her. I didn't want to worry my parents, and my sister was like my diary, so I told her everything. She also thought it was super weird and totally believed me for whatever reason.

I know that if someone told me this story, I would be hesitant to believe it as well. I took my car in later that week for a free checkup, and they said they saw nothing wrong with it. They also pulled the error report, and it had no record of ever throwing on the check engine light, which confused me even further. That was the only reason I had pulled over to begin with. I still haven't told my parents because they are old school, so I don't think they would believe it. but I have told a few of my friends who said they thought it could have been an abduction. To that day, I had always believed that there had to be something out there.

There's no way that we're the only intelligent life in this whole universe, but I think that really solidified it for me. That's the only thing I tell myself that makes sense, because otherwise, I have nothing. I'm open to hear any interpretations that you or your listeners might have. have, though, and thank you for sharing my experience. This is a story about my grandparents and their property. My grandparents meant the world to me.

We had such a strong bond built on trust, love, laughter, and countless memories. I could come to them about anything, if I needed a place to get away. Their home was always open to me, and, in fact, any of us grandkids. So, when they passed, it left a very empty space in my heart, one that I honestly was not quite ready to face. Alas, when the time came that my parents had to go through their belongings and sort through the remnants of a life well-lived, they asked me for help.

And I wasn't going to make them do it alone, no matter how hard it was going to be. walking through their old home was like flipping through a sepia-toned photo album, I could almost hear my grandpa's deep laugh and still smell my grandma's favorite perfume. It was bittersweet, to say the least. The weight of loss was very heavy in the air, and as I pulled out item by item, recounting the memories from said items, I was becoming overwhelmed with grief. I had to step outside and catch my breath and try to stop myself from bawling again.

I stood there on their big wraparound porch and looked out into the yard. Their rustic little homes sat on a big acreage of land with their little farm, complete with a barn and chicken coop. I looked over at the worn-out tire swing hanging from the tree that I used to use as a kid, which brought back some pretty,

happy memories. That's when I saw it. Scanning over the yard, I noticed the light in the upper window of the barn was on. Nobody had been near the barn yet, as we all wanted to clear out the house first, knowing that it would have more stuff in it. This piqued my curiosity, and I thought maybe a change in setting would also help me out some, so I decided to check it out. Like a moth to a flame, and with my mind already clouded in thoughts,

I trudged towards the barn, not considering the possibilities of why the light would be on. As I pushed open the creaky barn door, a wave of nostalgia hit me like a ton of bricks. The stalls, once filled with cows and horses, were now empty and quiet. The sense of old wood and dust was how I could smell, indicating just how much time has passed and the barn neglected. After my grandfather's heart attack, they gave up their animals to others that could take care of them, and the barn was pretty much left as is. I walked through the rows of stalls, stopping at one, rubbing the name that was etched into the wood. It was the name of one of their care. house that I adored as a child.

Trying to get a hold of myself, I remembered the reason for entering the barn in the first place. The light coming from the upper floor now wasn't on. I could see the cone from below, and it was clearly not on, and I had turned the light on for the bottom floor. However, there was still something glowing up there. Something was producing light, and I was determined to figure it out. I made my way up the ladder to get on to the top floor, and I was not prepared for what I would find. Once up there, it wasn't entirely dark due to the light that I had just turned on, but it wasn't entirely lit up like it was downstairs.

But as I looked around, I started seeing dancing lights around the edge of my side, vision. You know that weird feeling when you sense something just beyond your line of sight? That's what I felt. I almost started to worry that maybe I was about to pass out. But after closing my eyes and focusing on my breathing, I realized I physically felt fine. I've had seizures before, so I knew the weird feeling I would get before that happened. I didn't feel like I was going to collapse, or sieves. However, when I opened my eyes again, the lights were still there. They shimmered around me, but my body remained steady.

My heart rate and breaths were calm. I stood still at the top of the ladder as I watched the lights dance around me, and that's when instead of feeling overwhelmed with grief, sadness, or even fear, I instead felt warmth and acceptance. I felt like the lights were embracing me, as if my grandparents were there with me, comforting me in the most extraordinary way, offering solace in the face of loss. And in that moment, all of my grief felt like it was forced out of me. I remember letting out one big sigh as the last of my tears fell,

and then like that, I felt refreshed. I stood there for a few more seconds, trying to take in this moment, and that's when I felt drawn to a corner of the floor. I walked closer and moved around the few pieces of cloth and other small items that were there, and there it was. A doll. It was a doll that my grandma and I had crafted together from an old sock, some scrap fabric and yarn. We often had little craft projects like this. She always kept her scrap supplies and always managed to find different things for us to make out of it all. She was very creative, and she hated wasting.

I loved it because it always meant that our creations were unique. My heart swelled as I held it in my hands. I hadn't seen this doll since I was a little girl. That's when it all came together for me. The dancing lights were a message, a sign that my grandparents were watching over me. It was as if they were telling me that it was okay to be sad, but it was now time to move on, to find comfort in their memory, and to embrace the future, the doll now serving as a reminder of their enduring presence in my life.

I left the barn smiling, and I put the doll in the passenger seat of my car so I could make my way back inside their home. I felt like a huge weight was lifted from me, and I was able to keep up the spirits in the home as we finished cleaning it up. My aunt and uncle moved into the home afterwards, keeping the home in the family, and we continued to have holiday parties there, and keeping up with what my grandparents would have wanted. So, that's my story. I wouldn't say that I was a skeptic prior, but I also had never had any experiences like I did, so I couldn't say whether I believed in the paranormal. And maybe what I experienced wasn't even that. And maybe it was all in my head, but that's how I interpreted what happened.

And I'm okay with that. Sometimes, those unexplained mysteries bring us the solace that we desperately need, even in the darkest times. My fiancé and I moved into a little neighborhood in eastern Kentucky back in 2019. It was a nice little place for the most part. They liked to have block parties, and just about everyone would participate in one way or another, and the demographics were all over, too. There were people close to our age, with and without kids, some older people, and even a guy that seemed a little out there, but otherwise was mostly harmless. Surprisingly, the story isn't even about him.

Rather, it was about our direct next-door neighbor, Martha. Martha started as a pretty normal neighbor. As we were moving in, we would catch her watching us. from her front window or standing out on her porch, sweeping or dusting off her porch swing. Little things like people do under the guise of being nosy. We were the new people, though, so it was no big deal to us. As we continued moving and getting settled in, she would smile and wave at us, but there wasn't much else in ways of contact from her.

One day after reorganizing and some unpacking, we were already. ordered a pizza, and since it felt so nice out, we sat out on the porch with two fold-out chairs, and just enjoyed the night. That's when we officially met. She was taking out a bag of trash when she called out to us, so we started talking. She introduced herself, said that she had been divorced for over 20 years and that she got the house. She seemed to brag that she was pretty well-made with the alimony and the few lawsuits that she had won. Kind of weird, but was whatever. We introduced ourselves, and when I mentioned fiancé,

she did what most people did and asked when the wedding was. We said that we were just planning on having a small ceremony at the courthouse with a few close people, and then she practically scoffed. She spoke directly to Jackie, my fiancée, telling her that she hoped that she hoped I hoped I was worth it if I wasn't willing to give her the world and have an extravagant wedding, and then told her not to settle. She laughed about it afterwards, but it was still kind of rude at first. Getting married was important to both of us.

A large expensive ceremony was not. I even asked her many times if she was sure this is what she wanted, and she agreed. I had to convince her to at least have a nice dinner part, afterwards with just our close friends and family because all of it really was not a big deal for her but after that conversation she just kind of lingered and then said that she would leave us be and went back inside we just chalked it up to having one of those neighbors and left it alone a few months later we were pretty well settled in and since it was close to autumn we wanted to start working on the backyard so it would be ready for us in the spring. There were a lot of dead vines along the privacy fence. Weeds all over the raised garden bed in the back, in the area that we wanted to use to start our own produce garden with,

as well as some other potentially nice bushes that just needed some extra TLC. After cleaning it up a bit, we had some music playing and just sat out back drinking a beer and enjoying our work. Shortly after, Martha, Martha comes out back and again starts talking to us. We mentioned what all we did, and Jackie offered to let her through the back so that she could see, and she agreed.

She came over, and she seemed impressed with what we had done. When Jackie started mentioning her plans for part of the yard, Martha cut her off. You need to get rid of those ugly bushes over there. They make it impossible for me to see into your yard with them there. I try telling the couple that lived here before, but they never listened. Taken it back, I just looked at her, not sure how to respond.

When Jackie laughed and said that she had no intentions on removing them, she said that they were pollinator bushes, so they were good to have. But that she would keep them trimmed, they weren't going over the fence to her side. But they were staying otherwise. Martha did not seem happy with this response and told us basically, well, it's your yard, I guess, and pretty much left after that. We both agreed that we may just put in more if we had to. From then on, Martha seemed to be against us,

or more so against Jackie for the longest time. If we were outside, she would smile and wave at me, but the moment Jackie came around, she would grimace and walk away. She would greet me at the mailbox, but would hurry along, or even stand in front of our mailbox while she went through her own, blocking Jackie from being able to get to the mail. One of the worst things she tried was when Jackie was coming home from work. Martha was in our front yard and stopped her.

She asked Jackie why there were so many different young girls coming and going from our home. When she questioned this, Martha claimed that she saw three or four really young and pretty girls visiting when she was gone, and that she thought about calling her but didn't have her number, hinting towards getting it from her. Jackie told her that she would handle it and walked away, only angering her more that she was denied her phone number, and I really don't understand her reasoning for even wanting the number. Jackie, of course, told me what she said, which is how I know, and thankfully neither of us are the jealous type. She knew it wasn't true.

The only other women that ever came over to our house were our moms, my sister, or sometimes Jackie, would come home with a friend, but that was it. It seemed to anger Martha Moore, knowing that whatever she was scheming, was not causing a rift between us. But it didn't seem to stop her. She tried to do all these little things to get under Jackie's skin at first. Jackie had a few yard ornaments out front. The front yard did not have a fence, and they would be slightly moved.

She had a ceramic flamingo wearing a Hawaiian shirt, sitting by the steps up to our door. Martha had moved it to the edge of our yard. I work from home and have always been a pretty big tech guy, so we've had security cameras since day one. We reviewed the cameras, and we watched her pick it up and move it. Why, though? We thought we would ignore it for a while, but after she did the same thing twice more, I finally confronted her. She always did it early in the morning, before we were even awake. But I set my alarm and was up and ready.

When I got the notification on my phone, I immediately went outside to see her in a robe and carrying our flamingo. I startled her when I loudly said, Hey, what are you doing? She dropped him, thankfully it didn't break somehow, and smiled at me saying that she thought someone was moving it, so that she was moving it back. I told her that it was always at the front and that my camera shows her moving it. She then tried to go through the list of excuses. It looks better over here. It looks creepy and she can see it from her window, and she doesn't like it.

And as she did this, she was opening her wrong. robe ever so slightly to expose her thighs or the top of her bra. This woman was old enough to be my mother, so I really don't like to think that's what she was going for. I told her that regardless of what she thought, she had no right messing with our stuff, and that if it continued, I would be calling the cops to get her trespassed. She seemed to take the not-so-subtle hint, and quickly walked away. I really thought that that was going to be the end of it,

and that we were just going to have a cranky old neighbor, but I was so wrong. We didn't have many interactions with her, besides her now being hostile towards the both of us. Until people started mentioning break-ins in the neighborhood. However, the only one reporting them was Martha, and she never told anyone who the victims were. And then, one day as we were making dinner,

Someone knocked on our door. I went to answer it, and I was surprised to see two cops standing there. They asked to come in, and I of course let them in. I sat on the couch, as they explained the recent break-ins in the area. Then he mentioned that Martha was a recent victim. I was surprised. We heard and saw nothing, so I asked if she was okay. Sure, she was a pain, but I didn't want to.

wish any harm on her. One of the cops didn't have a very good poker face, and looked at me suspiciously while the other one kept the same demeanor and asked me more about it, until the question started becoming more accusatory. He then broke it to me that Martha claimed that she saw me throw the rock in her window, which is why they were over here talking to me. I told them neither of us had anything to do with it, and that we had been home. the whole time.

I even told them about my cameras and showed them the footage. They looked over it, scrolled through the entire day, and they didn't see us leave the house once, or go over towards her place at all. I work from home and Jackie had the day off, so we had both been inside all day. Satisfied with what they saw, they said that they had no proof and only hearsay anyways, so they just wanted to ask questions. They apologized for the intrusion and left. I was beyond furious.

She was now trying to, what, frame us? I was even starting to doubt all of the break-ins. Did she break her own window just to set this all up? Who would even do that? But just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, a few nights after that incident, Jackie and I were in the living room watching TV when there was a loud crashing sound,

and our front bay window was smashed in, with a rock that was now sitting on our living room floor. Jackie ran to the kitchen and called the cops, while I approached the front door, now holding the only thing close to a weapon that I had, an umbrella. I walked outside and saw nothing. Maybe they didn't realize we were home and fled when they heard us scream.

But with everything else that had occurred that, week, I went back to check the window, and my worry quickly turned into anger. There, on my living room floor, was the small decorative rock that Martha had along the side of her house. I knew that it had to be from hers, because they were all painted. I immediately checked my camera, and wouldn't you know it, she walked into her yard carrying this rock, lowered her head, I guess to try and how to... hide her face and threw the rock through the window. I showed the police the footage when they arrived, and they pretty quickly went over, and she

was walked out in cuffs. After I calmed down that night, Jackie convinced me that the whole ordeal probably scared her enough, and that we probably shouldn't press charges. Instead, she had to pay to replace the window and apologize to us, and to be honest, that was pretty satisfying. We got the window replaced pretty quick, and to our surprise, we rarely saw Martha after that. If she was outside and we went out, even if it was just to get the mail or take out the trash, she quickly went back inside.

She attended one of the block parties since then, but she steered clear from us. We became pretty good friends with a couple across the street, and they said they were surprised because she used to complain about them a lot, but seemed to stop out of nowhere. So it appeared that we were not the only ones that she targeted. I still have no idea why, though. We actually lived there for a few more years until we finally moved, but Martha was still there. I just hope the new owners either get along with her, or, on the other end of that, are willing to stand up to her bullying. This actually occurred to my mother, but it's something that I've always held on to since she told me.

I know it probably wasn't easy for her to recall and talk about it, but I am thankful that she did. So forgive me if I'm missing a few pieces here or there, or if it's a bit out of order as I'm trying to recall everything she told me. And when I was about five, my parents tried for a second kid to have a boy. and a girl. My mom had a medical issue that made getting pregnancy difficult for them, but it didn't knock them down. After several failed attempts,

they learned that she was pregnant, and went to the normal appointments to make sure the baby and mom were safe and healthy. Everything was going fine, too. No complications with the pregnancy? Until about the time that they learned the gender, It was going to be another boy, but they were still very thankful to have a second on the way, so no big deal. But my mom had started having some pretty weird dreams, or more so nightmares.

She never really talked about them with my dad or anyone, other than just saying that she'd had a weird dream, because she never really thought about it. At least she didn't until it became a recurring dream. In the dream, she always appeared to be lying on what she thought looked like a hospital bed in an all-white room. The walls were white, and there were several large spotlight-style lights hanging all around, to where she couldn't see anything else in the room. She could tell that there were people or figures in the room as they were human-shaped, but could never see their faces.

They always seemed to be standing in front of the lights, so... All she could see were the outline of a head, shoulder, arms, and torsosos down to the legs. She did say that she had never gotten off the bed. She doesn't remember if she ever tried and just couldn't or just never attempted. But because of this, she thinks either the bed was really low to the ground or with the lights being behind them, it distorted the figures. Either that, or their arms were freakishly long. As it looked like from where they were standing, their arms seemed to almost reach the ground.

The first few times she had this dream, she just laid there and kept asking where she was and who they were. She said that all she could hear was some kind of whispering, but it wasn't in a language that she was familiar with, at least. My mom is fluent in English, Spanish, and knows enough Italian to be able to tell if it was any of those. to which she says it wasn't. I know there are thousands of languages out there, but she said it just didn't seem real. It was almost just gibberish to her. However, one other thing that my mom was fluent in

was ASL, American Sign Language. My maternal grandparents and one of my uncles were deaf, so it was something that she had learned growing up. She noticed that the figures were using their hands. hands a lot, and she could make out some motions that they were making. So she gave it a shot and asked them again what was going on in sign language. To her surprise, she got a response. They told her they didn't know that she could understand them, and she explained how she knew ASL and again asked who they were. They did not answer her, but they said they were trying to figure

out what to do with the baby. She was confused at first, but said that she finally realized they meant her baby, that she was carrying. She asked them if he was okay or if there was something wrong, but all they said was, it does not belong to you. She said that this was typically where the dream ended. She would wake up confused, but not scared or anything, and would go about her day. She said that she started having this.

dream almost every night, and she tried to get more and more information from them, but the answers were few and far in between. The ones that she remembers vividly, that always scared her, were the ones where she was being told the baby doesn't belong to her, that he needed to go with them, and that he would be safer with them. She started getting increasingly upset and yelling at them, saying that he was hers and that she wasn't going to let anyone take him or harm him. And they would typically end up sedating her, and then she would wake up.

After waking up more than a few times, disheveled and upset, my dad started asking her about these dreams. They then brought it up to the doctor, simply explaining that she was having nightmares about Ken. His name was Kenneth. And they just suggested changing up her diet, thinking that that could be effective. her sleep. If she did just that, she changed how she was eating and when, but the dreams did not stop. In fact, they seemed to get worse. She said the figures would approach her and seems to

pinch her everywhere, her arms, her chest, her face and legs. They all burned as it felt like she was being pinched all over. But when she would wake up, there were no marks anywhere on her body. Then, at about 34 weeks, I believe it was, she had a different dream. This time, one of the figures spoke in English, and they told her it was time and that she should say her goodbyes right now. She remembered an overwhelming feeling of grief, but she had no fight in her. She laid there staring at them. After some time, the room went dark, and she watched the figures all walk out of sight. That's when she woke up and told my dad that she needed to go to the hospital.

She said that she didn't know why, but she felt like something was wrong. They got to the hospital and did a sonogram, and they noticed that there was no movement and no heartbeat. They did an emergency C-section, but he was gone, and nothing they could do would bring him back. That night, my little brother, Ken, passed. They said that it was basically a stillbirth situation, and that there was nothing my mom could have done to cause or prevent it. It was a hard time for my parents, especially trying to explain to me, I'm sure, as I didn't understand what was going on.

I sadly don't remember much of the situation, being so young at the time. But the strangeness actually did not end there. My mom stopped having those dreams until about a week or so after his death. She had one more dream, but this time it was different. This time, she was sitting in the nursery chair that was in Ken's room. She saw the same dark figure appear in the room, but this time, there were no bright lights. They were just dark with no features. One of them was holding a small baby in their arms wrapped in some kind of blanket.

She knew immediately, though, that it was Ken. She said that one of them thanked her for him, and that he would be well taken care of. Even though she told me this as an adult, it honestly terrified me. However, she said that she had never been more at peace than in that situation. She simply asked to hold him, and they obliged. She recalled while telling me this,

that how you would normally feel someone's arms or hands as you pass a baby to or from them, she didn't feel anything but Ken. She took Ken from them, and she said she held him for what seemed like ours. Nothing around her mattered in that moment. After some time, she heard the figure that spoke say it was time to go, and that she would never see them again.

Then she heard a small child's voice say, I'm okay. I love you. And then they were gone. She said that when she woke up that morning, she felt rested. She felt like she had clarity and that she was ready to move forward. She said that she explained the stream to my dad and it definitely affected him differently. He went through the normal grief stages, from what my mom said, but at the end of it all, she knew everything was okay. And she did her best to convince my dad of that too.

even though she seemed to be at peace with the situation, they both agreed that they did not want to try again. Since my mom already had medical issues, not to mention the traumatic dreams, she didn't want to risk it. She had only shared this dream in detail with my dad and her one close friend. She was too afraid of what others would think of her

or if someone would try to take me away as she was unstable or something. but I am thankful that she shared it with me, even though it's scared the hell out of me too. To this day, there is still no explanation for any of it, and it's the biggest mystery of our family. I think that I would like to believe my mom's side of things on this one, though, and believe that Ken is okay,

or that he at least didn't suffer anything, and maybe one day I'll meet him, again. Back around 2006, I was going to stay at a friend's house for a few days. I'd been friends with this guy all my life, and our moms had even become good friends. It was normal to come home from school or something, and my mom asked if I wanted to stay over there without me having to ask. It was really cool, because out of all of my friends, he would be my preferred choice to hang out with. I had a lot of friends that were cool, but there was always something that got in the way when we hung out. Whether it was Cody's annoying older brother who was always bothering us,

Michael's overbearing parents, or Jeff who only ever wanted to watch TV all day. I like TV, and yeah, I may have been around 12 at the time, but I didn't want to just sit around and watch TV the whole time. I could do that at home. But when I stayed at Conner's place, we had a lot to do with very little restrictions. He had two younger twin sisters, so they kept each other company. His parents were pretty laid back, and their place was huge, with lots of activities and things to choose from. So when my mom told me that I was going to stay at Connors for a few days when I got out of school,

I was surprised but also excited. I was going to be staying over there on a school night, as it was going to be from Thursday to Sunday. I never had a sleepover on a school night, so I was pretty excited to get ready for school and ride the same bus with him. However, I did notice the way my mom was rushing about getting me ready and out to the door. Connor's mom was picking me up, and how distracted my mom seemed.

to be. She had a similar look on her face when she came home from work after a stressful day. She was a 911 dispatcher at the time, and I just thought that maybe she'd had a particularly bad day, and I didn't question it. I was going to be going to my friend's house without even having to ask. The first night there was great. His parents bought pizza that night, and we were able to do whatever we wanted that night after homework. After school on Friday, I rode the bus home with him, and after homework again,

we had free choice of our evening activities. I had brought my DS with me, and we took it outside to play a game on it together, while also doing some other stuff outside. It was a game with different levels or stages, so we would just take turns on each level while the other road on the scooter or other random activities. While I was a game with different levels, we would just take turns on each level, so we would just take turns on the scooter or other random activities. While I was taking my turn playing, Connor was trying to climb a nearby tree and trying to figure out how to reach a branch that was just out of reach.

I looked up to briefly see him hanging upside down and laughed, returning to my game. Shortly after, and without looking up for my game, I could tell Connor had dropped out of the tree using the trunk as a support. That's when he started talking about doing flips off of it, and then asked if I could do a backflip. I told him no. Then he asked if I thought that he could do a backflip from running and kicking off the tree. I was heavily committed to my game at the time.

The level was appearing to be more difficult than I was expecting, and most of my attention was on the game and the DS. So, without looking at it, up, I chuckled a bit and said, I doubt it, but try anyways. Then I heard a familiar voice that wasn't Connors. It was my mom's. I looked up and that's where things made absolutely no sense to me.

I was sitting on the floor in my living room, holding my DS and playing the exact same game, on the exact same level that I had been playing. My mom was now standing in the archway between the kitchen and living room. Her face looked puffy and weary, and she said to me, What did you just say? I was confused, and to be honest, scared. I was at Connors just a second ago.

Then I was sitting at home, and my mom looks just as concerned. I first tried to play it off and say nothing, but, with my dad now also standing to her side, they asked me to repeat myself and why I said it. So I did. I then tried to play it off saying that I was talking about something in the game. They both stared at me suspiciously and confused, and I was right there with them.

This was really bizarre to me, and I didn't know what was happening, so I closed my DS and told them that I wasn't feeling well. excusing myself to go to my bedroom without them saying another word. What had just happened? Why was I not at Connors anymore? When did I get home? How was any of this even possible?

I couldn't recall the rest of the weekend being over there, nor the drive home. My first thought was to check the date and time. The only thing that I had in my room with a date on it at the time was my DS, so I opened it back up and to add to the confusion, it was still Friday. It was around 8 p.m. later than when we were outside, which was around 5 p.m. We had just gotten home from school, did our homework, and then went out to play. So it was still Friday, but it didn't explain how the hell I got back home. And if I was at home now, did I stay at Connors the night prior?

Did that actually happen? I just laid in my bed trying not to think about what happened and watched TV, not even wanting to play my DS because of the event. Shortly after, my dad came into my room and sat on my bed to talk with me. He asked me if I was okay and just talked about our day for a while. He asked me how school was, and I told him what happened as I remembered, and then he asked if there was anything I wanted to talk about. It was said in that manner that many kids may be familiar with,

when they want you to tell them or confess to something you may have done, maybe almost accusatory, I suppose. He definitely wasn't acting like he was mad or even remotely upset, and I had no idea what I could have done. I thought about telling him what I'd experienced, but I didn't even know how to explain it, so I just told him no. Then, he told me that something had happened to Mom and that she was probably not going to be herself for a while.

He said to be kind to her and to show her as much love as possible, and then asked me if I wanted to stay at Connors for the weekend. I was confused. I felt like I was living through this deja vu moment, but it wasn't quite right. I made a comment about going over there again, and he questioned that. I said that I was just over there, and he dismissed it as maybe I was thinking of a couple of weekends ago, so I just agreed and let it go.

That next morning, on Saturday, Connor and his mom came and picked me up, and I remember giving my mom a huge hug, telling her I loved her, and for some reason I also told her. her, it'll be okay, Mom, and just walked away smiling. Her face seemed to lighten up, and she smiled back at me. I don't know why I said that, but it seemed to help, so I left it alone. I spent the weekend at Connors, and everything was normal. Except, I asked him about being over there on Friday, and he said his mom told him

Friday that I was coming over for the weekend, but that I wasn't there Thursday or Friday. My dad actually dropped off more clothes for me on Sunday along with my school stuff, and I actually spent a few more days over there. When I got back home and everything was settled, my dad explained what had happened. My mom's sister, my aunt, Clara, was in a bad accident. That was about the extent of what I was told until I was 17. Then they told me a bit more about what had happened. My grandma had called my mom to tell her what happened, but they were worried that she wouldn't make it, and if she did, she would have severe brain damage, leaving her unable

to even breathe on her own. My mom, of course, wanted to go see her only sister, but she was in a hospital several hours away and she was worried that she wouldn't make it on time, and her sister would die thinking she didn't care about her. The night they discussed this was that Friday. She'd said to my dad, I just really hope I can make it in time. That was when they heard me from the living room say, I tout it, but try anyways. They were startled and confused, as they had been talking quietly, not wanting to

upset me, or let me know what was going on. To me, what I said made no sense not being at Connors, yet it fit in with the conversation my parents were having. When I went to Connors that weekend, they both left to go be with her sister. By the time they got there, Aunt Clara was unconscious, but she got to be by her side and with the rest of the family. I don't know the actual terms, but basically, she was not showing any signs of improvements, and, in fact, some of her organs were failing.

So they made the decision to take her off of life support. But as they did, instead of being overcome with grief, my mom said that she felt relief. She felt at peace and felt as if her sister was there with her, telling her once again, it'll be okay. I told my parents at that point what I had experienced being at Connors and why I had said what I said.

They confirmed that I had not been over at that point and that there would have been no reason for me to have been over there at that point. However, somehow, I knew what to say without having any idea of the conversation they were having. My mom said that because of what I said, with the situation being so bizarre, she knew that she needed to go to try and make it there, if you will, and she's glad that she did. She thinks her sister knew that she was there when she passed,

and she thinks when I said it'll be okay, it could have been her speaking through me. That week was her funeral, and while she was sad she was gone, she felt more at peace, and was thankful that she was able to, to spend time with her and her final moments. We still have no explanation as to why or how I ended up at Connors and then back home,

but I guess overall it was a good thing, because it helped my mom in the long run. And I'm okay with that. Hello, Raven. It's Amy again. I have a friend who lives in Colorado, and just recently, she had a very scary experience involving one of her neighbors. She gave me full permission to share this story to your channel and just asked that I gave her a fake name in different location for the story.

I hope that you enjoy this one. It was a very scary experience for her, but in the end, she is okay, safe, and the issue was resolved. Back in spring of 2022, I, 39-year-old female, had just purchased my first home in a small town in Michigan, to be closer to my family. Growing up in a somewhat low-income family, I was more than excited and proud to have finally purchased my own house.

I was single, no kids, no pets, and this was a big milestone for me. The house was a bit smaller, definitely single-family-sized, with just two bedrooms, one bathroom and one bathroom, and one level. But it was more than enough for me. My backyard had no fence, and it also led to the neighbor's backyard

who also didn't have a fence. The neighbor, who I didn't formally get to meet, appeared to be in his mid-50s, average height, and had a few tattoos on his arm. Now, I'm a pretty private sort of person, so I didn't make note to go over and introduce myself to him and vice versa. We both kept to ourselves.

But that soon changed. About maybe a month into moving in, I woke up one morning, a cup of coffee in my hand, and was about to sit on my porch that overlooked my backyard. I remember it was on a Saturday because I didn't have to go into work that day, and was planning on enjoying a quiet morning peacefully, just enjoying my coffee and reading on my porch. However, when I stepped out, I noticed something that I was not expecting to find in my yard.

My neighbor, who I'll just refer to in this story as AJ, had installed a small chain-link fence. Now, most of you, including myself, would at first think there's no problem with that, as long as it's on the neighbor's property line. But when I took a better look, I noticed there was a door on the fence. fence. Basically, the gate was right in the middle of the fence that would open right up into my backyard. Curious, I walked over to closer inspect the fence and did see that the gate door was in fact installed to go between my yard and the neighbor's yard. Most fences, when installed in a backyard, are intended to run along the perimeter of the side between each property. So having an open

gate door seemed odd. I decided not to say anything to the neighbor about this, just noting that it was weird and put the issue in the back of my mind. However, about a week later, as I was once again coming out onto my porch, I noticed something lying in the middle of my backyard. I walked over and saw that it was an empty beer bottle. I bent down and picked it up, and I noticed the gate between my yard. and AJ's yard was left wide open.

I looked around and didn't see AJ was anywhere in sight, but I could only assume that the empty beer bottle and opened fence door were his doing. This definitely became a red flag for me, and I started to make more notes of being wary of him. Things quickly escalated, and the next morning when I woke up, I was making my morning coffee and had heard a thud on my porch. I quickly opened my back door and stepped onto my porch to see my neighbor sitting on one of my chairs, smoking a cigarette.

He didn't even look surprised when I saw him. Appalled and even a little scared, I asked him what he was doing on my property. He just smiled at me and shrugged his shoulders. I again demanded to know why he was on my property, and I asked him to leave immediately. Again, he sort of just shrugged his shoulders, stood up, and walked off the porch. He left through the open fence door, while I angrily shouted at him to not come back on to my property again. At first, finding the empty beer bottle and open gate had me aware, but now I was on high alert and scared about this. I talked to a few friends and family members about it, and they suggested that I saw that I

start installing a security camera on my back porch, so I can have physical evidence if AJ should ever return onto my property. So I did just that, and with the help of my brother-in-law, the camera was installed. My sister also argued that if the door on his fence was opening into my yard, I should go as far as putting a padlock on the door to prevent AJ from being able to come onto my yard. I didn't think that was necessary. Now that I had the camera installed, I felt a little more at peace about the situation. A few weeks later, it's around nine or ten at night.

I'm in my bedroom, curled up in bed with my book, when my phone notifies me of movement spotted on the security camera. I pull up the camera footage, and to my horror, I see my neighbor standing on my porch and seemingly checking out the door. Fortunately, it was locked, but the camera live feed showed him actually trying the doorknob. Horrified, I press on the microphone button for my camera and tell him that I can see him, tell him that he needs to get off my property right now. AJ looks up at the camera and gives that same non-carrying smile and shouts that.

that he just wants to talk to me. I repeat to him to leave, and that I would be calling the police. I jump out of my bed and phone the police, all while watching AJ just standing on my porch. To sum it up, he eventually left before the police arrived, but they did issue him a trespass warning. And no, this still wasn't the end of it.

From then on, I did not feel comfortable even stepping on to my own backyard. Any yard work I did, I dreaded doing and worry that AJ would be outside and that he would try to approach me. I did start the process of getting a privacy fence installed in my yard just for extra security measures. I also would still find an empty beer bottle or two lying in my yard, to which I finally took the advice of my sister and put a padlock onto the fence door, in hopes of preventing him from being able to enter my yard. Still, this did not deter him.

My security camera showed him break the padlock and open the door. When this happened, I had rushed out phone in hand and recording him on my phone as another form of evidence of him trespassing onto my property again. He actually had the audacity to yell at me for placing a padlock on his fence, while I argued back that he was now trespassing on my property. even after being given trespass warnings by the police. Eventually, I got my privacy fence installed.

I had hoped that this would finally put a stop to AJ. And yet, this only showed how much further he was willing to go to trespass and enter my property. I had actually recorded him climbing over my privacy fence and jumping into my yard. As usual, I had to demand that he leave and that he'd leave. and that he was being recorded. Then, the worst had yet to happen. It had been around a few months of this constant war with AJ, when I was awoken one night, around 2.30 in the morning,

to a loud crashing sound at my front door. Startled, confused, and terrified, I snatched the golf club that I had been keeping underneath my bed and went out into the hallway to investigate. To my absolute shock, my front door had been kicked in. It was still on its hinges, but the door was kicked in so hard that when I went to check the damage, I realized I wouldn't be able to close or lock it. I quickly dialed the police and my parents to tell them what had happened.

By the time both the police and my parents had gotten to my house, I was a mess. The emotional trauma and terror over the last two months had finally taken its toll on me, and now I was outright terrified for my life. The police went next door and questioned AJ, and thanks to my recordings and previous history of AJ being served with the trespassing warnings and complaints, he was served a restraining order, and after that, he had finally stopped harassing me. Within that same year, he ended up moving away for good.

I know this story isn't as scary as a lot of the others that you hear, or have probably read, but this experience still terrified me. I had a neighbor who completely disrespected my privacy and my personal property. I still have no clue what his motives were each time I'd catch him on my property, or how much worse it could have gotten. I'm just beyond thankful that I never have to deal with him again and can finally put it behind me. I have something that happened to me way back when I was around 12.

This would have been back in the 80s, and I can safely say that I wasn't under the influence of anything. I never hallucinated, and I'm 100% certain that this was not a dream or me sleepwalking or anything like that. I also don't have any mental illnesses other than depression, so that doesn't explain what happened either. This all happened to me, and while it may sound crazy or weird to others, it is my truth, and I know what I experienced. I'm not trying to over-defend myself. I'm just used to being told that it's not real, or that I was just dreaming.

when I know for certain that I wasn't. I have to give some details that may seem irrelevance to the story in order to fully explain my mindset and what I was going through. So hopefully that doesn't turn anyone off from the story. When I was a baby, my mother put me up for adoption. And while I absolutely applaud the adoption and foster system nowadays, I will say that back then there were definitely places and people that abused the system.

Because of this, some kids slipped through the cracks. And I was one of those kids. I was adopted, and when I was no longer the cute little baby, my adopted mother gave me up again. I was then with an older couple that took pretty good care of me, but she had ended up passing away unexpectedly, and he had a major cancer diagnosis that left him bedridden, which led to me ending back up in the system.

So, by the time I was 11, I was already in my fourth family. And when you're a preteen girl just trying to understand the world, nothing makes you feel like you're unwanted like being tossed around like that. I felt like I didn't belong and like nobody loved me. And I was counting down the days until they gave me back up for adoption, and I would have to move to a new home. I say home, but none of them were ever actually home for me. To top it off, that family wasn't the best.

I was one of four adopted kids, and I was a middle child. I was very much treated like a middle child, ignored and left to fend for myself. I know that this is sounding like a pity story, and maybe it is, but at the age that I was, As mentioned, I was feeling like I was unwanted. Because I was feeling that way, I decided that I would run away and try to make my way in the world on my own. I decided that I would be better off homeless at the age of 12, which, thinking back, is terrifying.

So I packed up my backpack full of clothes and food that I had taken from the cabinets, and one night, I decided that I was just going to leave. If I made it somewhere new, then great. And if I didn't make it, then so be it. I grabbed my pack, and I snuck out of my bedroom window into the backyard. And I made my way down the road and eventually into the woods. Now, I will say that the entire time I was running away, I was being hit with a lot of emotion.

At first, I was excited about what I got. could do, but I was overrun with those sad thoughts that this was going to be my life from here on out, that I was just going to live in the woods with no family, eating snack cakes and Oreos from my backpack. Again, I was 12, so I didn't really understand what being homeless would entail, but it was still depressing. The whole time, though, I was kind of feeling like I was hearing voices trying to talk to me. Voices that I could not recognize. They were faint, and there were a lot of them,

and it was actually starting to make me feel scared. I was standing in the middle of the woods, in a suburb several blocks away from home, and I was starting to hear voices. This is when the real event actually happened. I was standing there, starting to hyperventilate and panic, and I was struck by what I can only explain as the brightest light I have ever seen. This was in the woods.

There were no lights anywhere near me, the only exception being the flashlight in my hand. The light was hovering over me and glowing the brightest white that I have ever seen, to the point that it was almost blinding me. At first I was obviously scared of it, but after a couple of seconds, something about it made me feel less afraid, and more like I should embrace the light.

I wanted to reach out to it. I wanted to lift my arms and hug it, and I even started doing so. That was when I heard one of the voices telling me to stop. I could tell that this voice was coming from whatever this light was, and that it was talking directly to me. I stood there just staring at it. at it, and it finally did speak to me again.

It told me that I'd had a choice. It said that I could choose to go with it, and that I would never feel pain again, or that I could go home with the promise that things would get better. This may sound really strange to some, and it was strange to me at the time, but I knew that this thing was telling the truth, that what it was offering to me were my two options, and whichever I chose would be what happened. I remember just staring at it, thinking about whether or not I wanted it all to end,

or if I wanted things to get better and to try to keep going. What scares me is that deep down, I knew that if I went with it, that I would die, that it would take me into the afterlife. And I was a 12-year-old girl thinking about whether or not that was what I wanted. After a while, I remember telling it that I wanted to go home, and it told me that it would take me there.

At that moment, I blinked, and as soon as I opened my eyes, I was lying in my bed, and the sun was starting to come up. I remember just lying there and staring at my ceiling for what felt like hours, thinking about what had happened. I could remember every detail of the, the light, how warm it was, how the brightness was blinding, and I could remember the sound of the voice that spoke to me. All of it was real. It was not a dream, and I have no explanation for what

the hell it was that I experienced. Part of me thinks that it may have been a guardian angel of some sort, though I don't think that guardian angels typically offer to end your life if you want to. But that was the only thing that I can think of. other than some sort of ethereal being that was just there at the right time and knew what I was going through. What's interesting to me is that things did get better. I no longer felt like I was unwanted. My parents seemed to care a bit more about me,

and they never did put me back up for adoption or anything like that. I would go as far as saying that after that night, my parents loved me, and they truly did. treated me as such. I don't know if it was just a trick of my mind and I was just realizing all of this, or if this thing had some influence on my reality. But things did get better for me. Whatever it was, it gave me that option for a second chance at life, and I'm actually glad that I chose to go home. I know that this story that I'm sending you is going to be met with skepticism.

and potentially criticism, but I don't care. I'm living through all of this. I'm going through the motions, and I know that it's all real. This isn't about attention, or to get clout or whatever. I'm not even attaching my name to this story, because I don't want any of that. I just want to put this story out there

and try to understand the line between life, death, and whatever is in between. Ever since I was a kid, weird things seemed to have circled around me. At first, I don't think they were any more than what normal people would experience. Just the slight and common paranormal thing here and there. But that all changed when I either died or nearly died,

depending on how you decide to look at it. When I was eight years old, I was hit by a car while riding my bike across the street. Some old guy was messing around with something in the footwill of his passenger side, and going about 20 over the speed limit, while I was aimlessly peddling back and forth in my neighborhood. Everything went from innocent me enjoying the summer sun to Girl meets windshield, then concrete, real fast.

I should have died. I did die temporarily, but they were able to bring me back by the grace of modern science. During those moments when I was out, I remember the darkness. There were no lights, no voices, just this overwhelming sense of emptiness. It was like standing on the edge of the abyss, staring out until it decides to stare back. When I woke up, I was blinded by the sterile lights of a hospital room, and deafened by my mom yelling that I was awake.

Ever since that moment, I have had this overwhelming sense of dread that has followed me around. Yes, since I was eight years old, I've been having this dreadful feeling. From that moment on, it felt like the universe had sent me a sign, one that read in a very bold font, your on borrowed time. After that day, I started to do. seeing things, strange things. I would see movement where there was none. I would see figures shift out of view in the corner of my eyes.

Inexplicable flashes of light like an old disposable camera, but there was never a source of said light. I told my parents about this, and they took me in to be checked out, and from what I've been told, there was nothing physically causing these phenomena. My brain was miraculously okay. I think my little pink helmet that I was wearing for that fact. These visuals kept going as I grew up, and it got to the point where the hallucination shifted to auditory ones as well.

The voice I have heard has always been the same voice. It's a low whisper of what sounds like an older man. It's called my name before and said other things, but I've never been able to decipher what else it says. And now, the reason I'm actually writing this story. Things have seemingly escalated. One of the most recent and scariest things that I have experienced was about four weeks ago.

I was taking a shower, and as the steam filled up the bathroom, I saw what looked like a child's handprint on the mirror. I live alone. I don't have children, and there has not been a child in this apartment since I moved in five years ago. I've cleaned that mirror numerous times over the years, so there shouldn't be any sort of smudge or print on it, yet there was. It was a clear and clean handprint of a child, square in the middle of the mirror. After that, I started to have various things happen in my apartment.

things moving, disappearing, etc. My cup of coffee would be in one place, and I would enter the room and it would be elsewhere. My phone would be plugged in on my bedside table, and when I would wake up, it would be on the kitchen counter. One time my keys disappeared and then ended up in the freezer somehow. I know that this sounds like poltergeist activity, but it's been so sudden and random that it's hard for me to attribute it to a

a haunting, and not my reality falling apart. And for those that will say it, no, it's not me doing these things and then forgetting. And I'm 99% certain that I'm not sleepwalking either. I know deep down that there is more to this. Physically, I've also been feeling off. I've been having random bouts of vertigo that will literally knock me on my ass. I've been having weird moments where I'll start shivering uncontrollably even when it's warm. My heart will skip beats, start racing, and then slow down all in the span of a minute,

which I will say is physically exhausting. I did go to the doctor, and I explained all of these things and the tests that they ran didn't see anything concerning, or any potential cause for these issues. The last thing that I've been having issues with is people. Both real people and people I think I see, but don't. I know that sounds confusing, but let me explain. I've been having this weird sensation where I will be somewhere, and I'll see a person, look away and then look back only for them to be gone.

I will walk by someone, get that weird feeling, turn around immediately, and they will not be there. On the other hand, I've been having this weird issue with seeing people I know and my brain not putting together who they are, or forgetting things as simple as their name. Again, my brain is fine according to the doctors that I've seen. My health is great, minus the permanent damage to certain parts caused by the accident way back, but none of that's in my head. I know that all of this sounds like rambling, but I promise you it's not. These are things that I've been going through for a little while now, as well as the things I've experienced since I was young.

But now? Well, now it feels like I'm starting to fade out of this reality, or existence as a whole. It kind of feels like a countdown. Like each sign and each happening is starting to push me further and further, into oblivion. You would think I'd be scared out of my wits, but the funny thing is that I'm not. I'm unsettled by it, sure, but there's also this sense of fatalistic acceptance.

It's like my fate was sealed when I came back so long ago, and I've lived my best life these past 20 years, so if I'm right and my time is winding down, then I, I can accept it. Do I think I'm actually close to dying? Yeah, probably. And deep down, I think I've always known that my time was limited. That the universe or God or whatever you want to call it is just biting its time and waiting for the right moment to reel me back into that abyss.

I don't know when, exactly, or how it'll happen, but I hope it's just quick. and I hope that I just happened to slip away without even realizing that it actually happened. When I was 28, I was looking for a new place to live. I wasn't too happy with the apartment I was in anymore, and I wanted to find something with a bit more room, but still a reasonable price. I was paying too much for a one-bedroom apartment, so when I found a duplex with two bedrooms in a full basement for nearly the same price,

I was pretty thrilled. It was in a nicer neighborhood and was pretty close to my work, which was a real winner for me. I moved in quickly and settled in even faster. I'd like to think that I'm a pretty outgoing person, so I became curious when I hadn't seen my neighbor once

while I was moving in. Until one day I saw a middle-aged woman leaving the other duplex. She was in a suit skirt, with a jacket. Obviously dressed for a nice office job, so I assumed she was probably just really busy, and kept to herself. But the times that I started noticing her were pretty sporadic. It was only maybe two or three times a week, and sometimes I would see her arriving and other times leaving.

One of those times, I was just coming home myself as she was leaving. We made eye contact, so I stopped to say hi and to introduce myself. She was very nice, and she told me her name was Teresa, but she actually didn't live there. Her 80-year-old dad, Carol, did. She said she came to visit him a few times a week. She would get his groceries, take him to doctor's appointments, things like that. She also mentioned that he didn't get out much, so I probably wouldn't see him much, but that he would probably talk my ear off if I did see him.

After talking for a little bit, she left and I went about my business. From then, I would occasionally see him when he got his mail, or left with Teresa to go wherever. When we were outside at the same time, he would talk to me about pretty much anything on his mind. He was definitely a kind old man, and the fact that he pretty much kept to himself, it made me think he was going to continue to be a pretty great neighbor.

This was a few months into me living there at this point. I came home from work and saw Carol sitting out in the chair on his side of the patio in just his cargo shorts. He had a magazine that was rolled up, and he appeared to be swatting the air in an annoying manner. I approached him, and his face softened, and he jokingly said, Oh, how was work, dear? That was just who he was, and I didn't mind. We talked for a moment when he brought up how much he hated mosquitoes. I suggested bug spray and the little citronella candles.

As we talked, I mentioned how I used to have the teaky torches on my apartment balcony, so I could sit out there and not be bothered. He thanked me, and said that he would remind Teresa to pick some up when she went shopping for him next, and then we said goodbye. A few days later, I saw him outside again and watched from my window, as this man sprayed himself all over with the bug spray. He sprayed his legs, his arms, his torso, and even above him like he was misting himself. It definitely looked strange to me, but then I thought, maybe there was something about the bugs, like a phobia. Or maybe he had a fear of being bitten.

or maybe they were just really that much of an annoyance to him. It really wasn't my place to judge, so I left it alone as life continued on as normal. But it was the following night that I sat in my living room, eating my dinner, when I started smelling something funny. It was a strong chemical smell, but I couldn't quite tell what it was. I was worried that something may have caught on fire and started walking around my unit. My cat had been sitting next to me, so I knew that she didn't get into anything. I checked all the sockets, anything electrical that I could think of,

including the heat lamp on my iguana's cage. But everything seemed fine. But the smell still worried me. Was it in my head? Was there something wrong with me by chance? I decided to walk out front to get some fresh air and see if maybe I could still smell it out there. The answer was yes.

I could definitely smell it. But I had also figured out what the source of the smell was. It was Carol, once again spraying himself with the same bug spray, and I could now place that scent. We immediately started talking because he heard me open my door, of course. He claimed the bugs were getting worse, and were now getting inside his home. He talked about how he couldn't stand it so he sprayed all the vans.

vents, the doorways, even his air filter. He doused it with the stuff. I tried to get a better explanation at that point, wondering if he was still talking about mosquitoes, or something else. All he could tell me was that they were bugs, and that they were everywhere. I told him to be careful with the spray, trying not to sound mean and said that it could be harmful to ingest, and that maybe we should contact the rental office so that they can treat for them instead.

He said that was probably a good idea, and I went back inside, opening some windows to air out my side of the place. I made a mental note to myself, to let Teresa know the next time I saw her to do the same, and to not buy him more bug spray. I was able to let her know, but she said that she had only bought him the one can, and assumed that he probably ordered more online as he did do that sometimes. Again, it wasn't my place to tell her what to do,

but the amount that he was using was almost disturbing, and to practically drench yourself in it was not good either. I saw my share of mosquitoes out there, but he made it seem like there was a swarm of them all over him at all times, and I can assure you that that was not happening. I just told her what I saw and that I was concerned with him spraying it so much, and she said that she would talk to him about it, and that was that. Unfortunately, the bug spray wasn't even the worst of it.

While I was in bed, going in and out of sleep, I had become pretty hot, and was almost irritable with how hot it was. I sat up in bed wondering if there was something wrong with the AC, and no sooner than when I got it was. got out of bed, the smoke alarms started going off. I panicked and ran out of my room to see flames from the living room window and tons of dark smoke coming in from the vents. I grabbed my cats and my iguana, scaring them both, I'm sure, and ran through the back

door, running to the front yard. I had a button latch on my hatchback, so I was able to open it and put them both in there. Thankfully, they both get along, too. I had to put them up before I actually approached the cause of the flames, because it was coming from Carol. He was holding one of those tiki torches against the wall, and was watching it as it slowly caught fire. I screamed at him, What the hell are you doing? But when he turned around, that was a face I had never seen before. He looked so angry and his eyes were so wide.

They looked like they were going to pop out. He said that he finally figured out a way to get rid of the damn bugs. He said that he made a fire on all of his vents, which also meant that our shared wall was on fire, and was now torching the outside. I was so afraid to approach him, being a small woman, but I did, and he surprisingly handed the torch over to me. But he continued to talk about what he had done,

like it was some hobby or other harmless project that he was working on. I had my phone on me, and I had grabbed it as I was rounding up the pets, so I finally called 911 once I had my bearings. The whole time, Carol was just continuing to talk in the background. The fireman arrived quickly, and put out the fire, and we both talked to the police about what had happened. Thankfully, Carol did have Teresa's number memorized, so we called her, and she was there

pretty fast, too. It was the only time that I ever saw her not dressed up. That was an awful moment right there, and I think it really opened Teresa's eyes about what was happening. What did you do, Dad? She was pleading with him as he continued to talk about the bugs. It was terrifying, but I also felt so bad about the whole thing. I felt like it was my fault.

I shouldn't have brought up the spray, or the torches, or any of it. Once the smoke cleared, literally, they were able to go inside to assess the damage. Most of it was on our shared wall, and the outside wall, of course, and there were some burn spots on the carpet on Carol's side. I had to move a lot of stuff out of my living room

so that they could come in and repair it, but otherwise it was still a good, sturdy building. I didn't see Carol, all much after that. Teresa had come by and got some of his stuff, but she told me that he was going to be living with her for the time being and said that she should have done that

a lot sooner, joking that she would have saved gas anyways. I wished her well, and once all of his stuff was out, that was the last that I saw of them. After some repairs on the other side, I finally got some new neighbors.

It was a younger lady with a baby, and so far they haven't meant too, bad. I still live there, so Carol lives rent-free in my mind. Sometimes I will randomly smell something funny, or I'll hear the neighbor's smoke alarm go off, and it sets me into a panic. We've talked plenty of times, and she's mentioned how it goes off when she's cooking, so I know everything is okay, but my heart rate still jumps a bit when it happens. I do hope that Carol is doing better now, but since the first of the first of her, but I know everything is okay. I'm not so I'm not, but since the fire was so close to home, it has kind of become a pretty big fear of mine.

When I was a kid, my family took a vacation to a cabin near the lake. It was a rental, fully furnished, and it even had a full-sized and functional kitchen. It was impressive, as this was the first time that we had stayed in a place like this. It was typically a small hotel room that might have had a mini-fridge, and a microwave in it. And it was typically shared between my parents, my two younger siblings, and myself. Needless to say, we went out to eat a lot on vacation,

because we couldn't exactly cook. So, being a picky eater, it was nice that we could make home-cooked meals there while still having an awesome vacation away from home. There was even a walk-in closet of some sort, off the side between the living room and the kitchen that had things for us to play with. Us kids never went in there,

but my mom pulled out two small chests on wheels. One filled with different board games and the other with water and swimming toys, such as diving sticks, a beach ball, arm floaties, etc. I quite enjoyed our time at the cabin. Even being 14 with two younger siblings, we had a blast. We got to swim at the lake, go fishing,

we went to a local amusement park and even spent time together indoors. One of those nights, we were all in the living room watching a movie. My mom rarely makes it through a whole movie, so she went to bed after the first one. And my dad followed after the second. He told me I was free to continue watching, but to not stay up too late, and told me good night. My youngest brother was already in his room asleep. My sister was on the couch with my dad, also asleep. And I was in the big lazy chair.

I called dibs in that thing immediately, because I just sank right into it. I was on my fourth movie. There was a marathon playing all the saw movies, so I was very much awake. I knew that I needed to go to sleep, especially when I heard what sounded like, like a door open and then close.

I assumed it was probably my mom or dad getting a drink or maybe checking on me, so I laid down in the chair to look as though I was asleep, but would crack my eyes open a bit to see who it was that was awake. But it wasn't anyone I knew. It wasn't my family. What I saw was someone super thin, in what looked like a dark shirt. But they're moving.

was very stiff. In fact, their hands seemed to be on their hip the entire time, not moving them. When I managed to see them walk, it was as if they were just shifting or scooting across the floor. There was no sway to them, no bounce that you would normally see when someone walks, like they were just being pushed along the floor. They were walking behind the kitchen island, so I couldn't see below the waist. to confirm how they were moving. At the time, I didn't know about the phrase

uncanny valley, but that is exactly what I was experiencing. It was unnatural and terrifying. I wanted to call out to them and ask who they were and what they were doing, but I was frozen in the chair and fear. I remember slowly pulling the blanket up over my head so that I didn't try to look at it anymore. I waited that way,

for what felt like forever, listening to the soft shuffles along the floor, and even what sounded like cabinet doors in the fridge being opened and closed. Then I felt a slight pat on the top of my head. It took everything for me to not look, even though I really wanted to. I didn't know what would happen if I did. I just kept my eyes shut, trying to focus on my breathing to make it look like I was a sleep. After several deep breaths, I listened to the shuffle on the floor again and the sound of a door opening and closing. Then it was just the sound of the TV. I waited several more moments before pulling the blanket back and looking into the kitchen again.

It was empty. At this point, I was way too tired to fall back asleep, or watch more scary movies, so I changed the channel. to some late-night show, filled with dumb jokes and references that I didn't get, to hopefully just distract me enough to fall asleep. It was probably another hour before it finally worked, and I did fall asleep. To be honest, I wanted to go back to my room that my sister and I were sleeping in, so that I could lock the door, but I didn't want to wake her up, nor did I want to leave her out there alone, so I just chose to stick it out. The next morning, everyone was acting normal.

My parents were even both pretty cheerful and ready to get our day started. I thought maybe it was one of my parents trying to prank me, to get me to go to sleep, but there were two problems with that. My mom doesn't like being scared like that, nor does she like my dad trying to do that to us. She claims that it's too traumatizing, and I don't think it was my dad alone, because when he would play pranks on us, he always had this goofy look on his face, as well as a goofy and conniving laugh.

He's unable to keep it to himself for very long, and the fact that he didn't confront me about it that night or the next morning told me it wasn't him. And, of course, my siblings doing it was completely out of the picture. They were too young, and I was in the same room watching one of them sleep. So my concern went back to, What the hell did I witness? And do I bring it up to my parents?

Would they ask about the approximate time? Because then I thought, as silly as it sounded, would I get in trouble for being up as late as I was? Maybe it was some kind of weird test they pulled off? Overall, we were only going to be there one more night, so I didn't think it was really worth it, and I decided to try to forget about it, assuming that it wouldn't happen again. The day went normal with no weird occurrences, granted we were out most of the day, but it wasn't even on my mind.

I didn't think about it again until that night. However, once my parents both decided to go to bed, I turned off the TV and did the same, dragging my sister to the room with me so that I could lock the door. It took me a minute to fall asleep, but I finally did, and thankfully there were no instances like the night before. At least none that I was awake for. Then, we were leaving the following afternoon. We got everything packed up in the van, and then we had to do some minor cleanup in the cabin. My mom asked me to put the chests back in the closets, and I obliged.

But as I rolled them back in there, I clicked on the light, and I saw a tall cloth draped over something towards the back of the closet. There were a few pieces of old clothing hanging up near it, so I first thought it was just a long dress or robe. But there was obviously something underneath it. Curious, I lifted up the cloth, and saw a full side. mannikin, with one hand on its hip, and its legs stationary in an almost a pose, wearing a dark blue t-shirt. I nearly screamed when I saw it, and realized that it matched exactly what I saw that night. What made it just that much worse and chilled me was seeing the layer of dust on the other

items and the clothing around it, as well as on the floor, yet the mannequin was dust-free, The dust on the floor in front of the mannequin also appeared to be disturbed, like it had been moved. I quickly and haphazardly shoved the chests the rest of the way in, slammed the door closed, and ran out of the cabin into the van. My mom saw me run past her and asked what was wrong, but I didn't tell her. Again. I know, probably dumb. I waited in the van for them to finish the last few things in there,

and I got my brother and sister buckled in. I was mentally freaking out on the way home, trying to figure out if what I saw was real and how it could even make sense. Surely my dad could not have done this. He wouldn't have taken it that far, but what else could it have been? This has been years ago at this point,

and I never told my parents about it. I told a few friends about it, because we all enjoyed spooky stories, but when it happens to you, it's not so cool anymore. Granted, it's still kind of creepy to me today because I still have no answers, but I wouldn't even know where to start.

However, I have thought about asking my parents if they remembered the cabin, and then checking it out with my friends. And I'll let you know if I do. I moved into this tiny little rental about six years ago. It was a two-bedroom duplex, and it was quite the steel, in my opinion. The rent was cheap, the place was in good condition, and even the property managers seemed pretty nice. I got all unpacked and was feeling pretty good with my choice of my new home.

It wasn't until about six months in or so that I started experiencing, things. It started as things just disappearing, like my keys, my jewelry, my glasses, just little things like that. But then, they would end up in other places that I would never have left them. I had a dish in the bathroom that I put my rings in, or I would put them on the windowsill in the kitchen if I took them off and there. Otherwise, they were on me or in my jewelry box. My keys hung on the rack next to my door, or they were in my purse, and I always had my glasses on unless I showered or went to bed. Then they would be in their case in my bedroom. There were a few times that I found my rings sitting evenly spread out on the kitchen table. If I were to have left them

on that table, why would I have left them spread out like that? I once found my keys in the bathroom and under my couch. And I even found my glasses neatly folded and balancing on a pillow on the couch. That was after I had went to bed. Again, I wouldn't take them off in the living room and then walk to my bedroom. Now, I am open-minded to the paranormal, and so I thought, maybe someone was upset that I was here, or maybe they were just lonely and happy to have company, since. the house had been vacant for a few years.

It was a house that had been abandoned and was redone and turned into a duplex. I wasn't told about any details that happened there, but, to be honest, I was still young. I don't know if that's a law across the U.S. that deaths have to be disclosed to new tenants, or if that's only if you buy the place versus renting like I was doing. So, I just tried to talk to.

to them if anything was there. I told them I wanted to share the home with them, and I thanked them for co-existing, you know, trying to be as generous and friendly to them as I could be. I mean, they'd been mostly harmless so far, yet things got worse. The events that I witnessed started becoming more emotion-fueled. My windows opened upward, and they never had trouble staying open before. four, but then they would slam shut. Same with the doors.

They never swung open or closed on their own, but now they would suddenly move. It seemed to particularly like my bedroom door. It wanted it to remain open, because every time I would close it, it would come open. I'd had a few cups and plates fly off the counter as well. These were the things that I tried to ignore and not feed into, or show any. fear, but I still tried to be reasonable, as reasonable as you can be with a spirit, right? But the one thing I couldn't shake were the dreams. I never seemed to remember them when I woke up, but I do remember waking with my heart

racing, breathing heavily, and feeling scared, but I never knew why. I would go check to make sure all the doors and windows were locked and, and try to go back to bed. And no matter what I wore to bed, I was always freezing when I woke up. It was such a strange feeling. So, I know that this was probably stupid to be doing alone, but I didn't really have anyone around to do this with. My boyfriend was at work. Friends were busy with life, and I didn't want to bother them with something like this anyway.

but I held a seance by myself, hoping to better understand the spirits that I was feeling, or at least try to calm them. Unfortunately, all I got was this feeling like someone was watching me and was disappointed. Not really angry, just upset, I guess. So, I finished up, I watched a movie and then went to bed. That's when things got really strange for me. It felt like a dream at first that I was watching play out in front of me, but then I realized where I was in this dream.

I was in my very own bedroom. I was standing against the wall, facing the foot of my bed. It was dark except for the glow from the moon, and the streetlights coming into my window. But the problem with this, was that there was somebody in my bed. That person was also me. I was wearing the same thing I had went to bed in,

which was a tank top, and my fuzzy Rugrats pajama pants. My hair was in one single braid, just as I had done right before I went to bed. And as I stood there looking down at myself sleeping, I then saw a large, dark, looming figure standing next to me. my bed, close enough to touch me. We both stood there for what felt like an eternity, watching myself sleep, watching my chest

rise and fall, making sure I wasn't struggling to breathe or something. Then I turned my attention to the thing standing over me. I was trying to make something out of it, a person that I recognized or even didn't, hoping to make sense out of what exactly. I was seeing. But then, I could see the shape of the head, slowly turning to look towards me. And in that moment, I felt the most overwhelming sense of dread that I had ever felt in my life. At that moment, I just wanted to cry and scream, but I couldn't move a muscle.

I watched on, terrified for myself, and what exactly was about to happen to me. Right then, I saw what I assumed to be the figure's arms wrap around me, then its legs, until it seemed to engulf me in darkness. Something finally broke free and I was able to overcome the paralysis as I ran to my side, barely able to see myself at this point. Without thinking, I reached down and grabbed my own shoulder. At that moment, I remember waking up. After feeling something touched my shoulder, I felt myself touched my own shoulder.

I reached up and turned on my head rest light and looked around the room. No one else was there. It was just me. And again, I was freezing. I was terrified at this point and just started crying. I think I probably turned on every single light in that place, and I sat curled up on my couch in the living room with the TV on some kind of cartoon. My boyfriend worked overnights at that point, so I called him freaking out,

and I explained what had just happened. He wasn't one to dismiss my thoughts and beliefs, but I think he was just trying to do whatever he could to calm me down. And he said something about it probably being some kind of sleep paralysis or lucid dream. since it seemed so real. But I'm not convinced that it was a dream. I remember standing on the cold, hardwood floor. I remember feeling the ridges and the wall against my back.

I remember listening to my shallow, shaky breaths. And I remember the feeling of my own hand on my own shoulder. And the sense that someone was shaking me awake. My boyfriend was going on his head. his lunch break soon and I wasn't going to be sleeping at all, so I decided to bring him something to eat to get my mind off of it. When I got there, we talked about it a little more, and I guess I must have looked pretty convincing, because I remember the concerned look on his face, and him offering to stay over

with me. He lived with friends, so it was a lot less awkward to stay at my place instead of his. I stayed there for a few hours, until I went out to my car and fell asleep. He ended up getting out an hour early, and he followed me back to my place. We slept on my couch that night, however, as I didn't even want to go into my bedroom. I decided to sage the whole place the next day. I had trouble sleeping there alone from that moment on, as I always felt a strong presence, like someone was there with me.

I was typically fine during the day, but I struggled at night. My boyfriend was planning on moving in with me after he'd finished working overnight, but we expedited that process because I just could not do it anymore. I felt pathetic not wanting to be alone in my own home. I didn't renew my lease after that year. The rent was great. and the place was gorgeous and in a fantastic area, but it was not good for my health. I still have no explanation for that night, because I've never heard of an experience where you can see and feel yourself.

If anyone else has experienced anything similar, I would love to hear it, because I've never found an answer. But at least, I never experienced that again. I need to tell you some of my background to understand who some of these people are. I, 28, female, moved into my partner, 29 males, house when we got engaged. We'd been together for two years, and we wanted to progress with our relationship further. We're happy, good communication, and mutually shared goals. The only person I have friction with in this scenario is his young sister, 21 female. who, I guess, doesn't like me.

She doesn't like how I come from a working-class background and thinks that I'm a gold-digger who married up. No matter what I've done, it's never enough for her, and she has tried to sabotage our relationship before, even going as far as to make fake screenshots to lie that I was cheating with my partner. We had a small celebration at the new house together and invited some close family and friends. It was a lovely night.

The next day we met the neighbors, and they seemed nice enough. I came back home from work and saw his sister was there, the last person I wanted to see, but I was friendly. She had this smug smile that made me suspicious. She left in my partner and I were pleased. He's always been good at sticking up for me, but they are close, and she is his baby sister, so he wants me to at least try to make an effort.

Now, I know all that was long, but I needed to explain it. I had a neighbor, male, 52, start knocking on the door and come over to chat with us frequently. He was friendly, retired, and I thought that he just wanted to get to know us. My partner and he developed a friendship. However, the neighbor would come over frequently and start speaking to me, too. I'd humor him and then politely tell him that I was going to call my family or some other excuse. He then started dropping some more sexualized compliments, that my pants showed off my figure, that he would love to, quote unquote, join us sometime.

I told him that we just weren't into that, and he told me that I didn't need to be shy, and that he knew that we were swingers. Now, I don't care what someone does with other consenting adults. However, that really just is not my thing. I then asked him to leave, now. He waited a moment, but then did finally leave. I wish I had asked him at this point where he got this idea. Instantly, I picked up my phone and called my partner to tell him what happened.

He told me that he hadn't said anything to give him that impression. Either way, he was supportive. The next part is when my partner and I were having an intimate moment together. I won't go into details, but basically I don't know when it started. We were having a break when I noticed a figure in the window. I screamed and my partner came out of the bathroom to ask what was wrong. I told him that I thought I saw someone outside the window. By the time he went outside to investigate,

all he found were the plants were crushed. The person had left, and, fortunately, we did have security cameras around the property. We looked to see the neighbor sneak through the garden, sit in the garden bed, and look through all while, well, how do I put this politely? Fondling himself, jerkin the gurkin,

wrestling the one-eyed trouser snake, I think you get the picture. I instantly felt, sick. We didn't see him for a week or two. My partner sister then came over again and I had to smile through it. She seemed shocked when she found out what had happened and laughed about how weird it was. I still didn't put my finger on it at that time. From then on we made sure the blinds were closed. The next time we saw him, my partner told him that we had him on camera watching us. The neighbor than told us that he thought we were into this, and we both shouted no at the same time.

He told us that we enjoyed being watched during the act. My partner demanded to know where the hell he came up with this idea. He then said that my partner's sister had told him that we were swingers, and always on the look for more playmates, me especially, and that it wouldn't be the first time that I cheated on my fiancée. My partner told him, my partner told me, told him that we were not like that. The neighbor did accept this. He would still look when we walked by, but he kept his distance after that. We then invited his sister over to speak to her to see if it was true.

I was furious, and I believed it even without speaking to her. My partner asked if she knew anything about it and kept insisting. After an hour of conversation, she finally cracked it. and admitted that she did it. And then she laughed and wouldn't apologize. When he asked her why, she told him that it was for him to break up with me so that he wouldn't have to deal with me anymore.

This all happened four years ago, and we still haven't spoken to his sister since then.