As The Raven Dreams Podcast - Scary Stories For Dark Dreams - Volume 21 | ATRD Podcast

Episode Date: December 1, 2024

Today we have more than 2 hours of True Strange & Scary Stories with a lovely late night ambience. This is part of the "Scary Stories for Dark Dreams" series, which is a collection of stories put together for the sake of sleep or simple background noise. THERE IS ONE AD BREAK AT 12 MINUTES This collection includes The following true scary stories: Trucker Stories (2022), Park Stories (2022), Winter (2022) & Family Secret Stories (2023) 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. Support the channel for Early Access AND more! Patreon ➤ https://patreon.com/AsTheRavenDreams Check out the Merch Store! ➤ https://teechip.com/stores/astheravendreams Much Love, and Sleep Well... ----- #TrueScaryStories #AsTheRavenDreams #RedditStories ➤ Stories include a content warning for language and sensitive/disturbing content. Viewer discretion is always advised. ➤ ALL Audio of this Podcast are copyright of AS THE RAVEN DREAMS / RAVEN ADAMS and may not be duplicated, in any format, without explicit permission ➤ If you like any of the following stories, consider subscribing! - Dark Web horror stories, creepy lets not meet stories, stalker stories, Glitch In The Matrix Stories, Unexplained Horror stories, Paranormal stories, cryptid encounter stories, Crazy ex lover stories, creepy neighbor stories, quantum immortality, true scary stories from reddit, or any other True horror Stories! ➤ 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

If you're aboard of Viarai. Embarked and profite. Embarked and relaxes. Cirotay. Bookine. Oh, that also. And profite. Viaray, the voice that we love that we love. If you have a true scary story you'd like to share with the podcast, go to ashtheravendreams.com and click the button to send it my way. Also, if the platform you're on has the option to rate the podcast or leave a comment, please consider doing so. And as always, thank you. Back when my daughter was still quite little,

and we used to go to a nearby park to play. I was a stay-at-home mom, and she was my first and only kid. My husband's also in the military, so we tended to move around a lot. Because of this, I don't get to interact with other adults very often, and with my daughter just starting a new school, It was a great way for us to get some interactions from other parents and kids. So, since she had half days on Fridays,

I would pick her up from school, run some errands, if I had any, and then head to the park for a few hours. Charlie was always an outgoing child. When we went to places like the park, she was always quick to meet friends. She would run up to others, introduce herself and start playing with them. If she noticed someone playing alone, she would immediately go to them and share whatever toy that she had brought with her

so that they were not alone. I had to talk to her about making sure that we don't share too much information because she can also get pretty carried away. For her age, though, she was also pretty smart and aware of her surroundings, but I blame her father for that. Anyways, this is all what caused the situation we ran across one day at the park with another little kid there. We went over to this park as we normally did, and after looking it over, Charlie told me that she was headed to the swings, and she ran off a bit ahead of me.

I caught up and I pushed her for a while and was playing with her and talking about her day at school. While standing there, I was looking around the park as you do to see who all is around, what's going on nearby, things like that. I noticed a middle-aged woman walking to the park with a young girl, probably close to my daughter's age. I remembered them because the mom looked like she had a firm grip on the girl's hand, whereas the little girl looked a bit nervous, like she may have been shy. They stopped by the entrance of the actual playground area when the mom knelt down and said something to the girl. She looked very serious about it too, but, again, my thought was maybe just laying out some ground rules,

stay in my sight, no wandering off with strangers, etc. Then the mom sat down at a picnic table and the girl slowly walked off to the actual playground. I turned my focus back to show. Charlie, as she started talking, saying she was going to try the monkey bars and hopped off the swing. I noticed the little girl had gone over the bridge on the other side of the monkey bars and just stood there watching us. I smiled at her as she gave a shy smile back and then looked towards her mom. I noticed at this point the mom was sitting facing the playground but was nose deep into a newspaper.

circling and writing things on it and making phone calls. I helped Charlie across the bars, and when she got to the other side, she did as I anticipated, excusing herself to not kick this girl, and then asking her if she was going to go across. She shook her head no, and then Charlie began her barrage of questions. Do you like monkey bars? Have you tried them before?

Are you afraid of them? The girl shyly answered that she didn't know how to do it, to which Charlie volunteered me to help since I was so good at it. I then agreed, looking back over at her mom and seeing her still preoccupied. I offered to take her across, and she agreed. I got her set up on the first one, and then helped her across to the other side. Once there, Charlie clapped and told her that she did a great job, which made the girl smile. So after taking them both across a few times,

Charlie introduced herself and asked the girl what her name was. After a few seconds of looking around, she told us that it was Carrie. So from there, the two of them played together for a while. I decided to sit at a different bench for a while. The picnic table that she was at was to my right, so I would gaze over to see the mom either still on the phone or writing something, or she would glance up and look around for Carrie and then continue on with what she was doing.

After a few, I saw the two of them sitting in the middle of the Mary go round and talking. Charlie had quite a confused or puzzled look on her face, so I assumed they were just telling each other stories or something. A little while after, they both came up to me and Charlie asked for her snack and then asked if she could share some with Carrie. I agreed, and as I started pulling it out, Charlie said she had to run to the restroom, so I reminded her where it was, and watched as she walked over to the facilities.

Once she went in, I finished pulling out the crackers and water when Carrie said that I was a really nice mom. I smiled, and I thanked her and told her that she was a really nice kid. And I said that, I bet your mom is pretty nice too, huh? As I tilted my head to the side, she looked over to her mom and her smiles seemed to change. Like, it was fake. And she said, yeah, my real mom is. This, of course, caught me off guard at first, but then I thought maybe that was just her stepmom or another guardian that was watching her.

So I just chuckled a bit and began pouring some of the crackers out for her. As I did this, she then said, My name's not really Carrie. Not really knowing how to respond to that. I just said like, oh yeah? And almost as if she was whispering to me, she said, my real name is Sabrina. So I said something like, well, nice to meet you, Sabrina,

and started asking her why she had a fake name when Charlie came running back over to us as well. That's when she told me it was the name that she gave her and pointed to the woman on the bench. Charlie started eating and was just listening to us when she cut in to say Carrie just moved here and asked if she could come over to watch some movies and have a new friend. Normally I was all for her making new friends

and getting contact info from parents, but the look in Sabrina's eyes was different from a kid begging please. It was more of a plea for help. I asked her if she was okay, and she said she didn't want to go back home with her. This immediately put me in defense mode. I had Charlie sitting next to me and eating, while I looked at the girl straight in the face, and I said, Do you know that woman that brought you here? I remember she looked so scared and then glanced over at her, and then back to me, and she said,

I don't know. I tried explaining to her that she wasn't in any trouble and that she wouldn't be. Anything I could to keep her calm and get more information out of her, and then I heard someone shout for Carrie. She looked up and started walking over to that woman, so I tried to act calm and uncaring.

I turned to look at Charlie and smiled, and talking to her as I tried glancing back up at Sabrina. I noticed the woman was now shaking her arm really hard, and she looked like she was about to cry. I wasn't the only person to notice this, though. I saw a couple of adults looking in that direction at them, too, so I decided to take a chance and calm the situation some. I told Charlie to stay put, and I walked over to Sabrina and the woman. I introduced myself, and I said my daughter was very outgoing. and that she had immediately invited her over for snacks,

and apologized profusely that I didn't ask her first, worried about possible allergies. I even made sure to refer to her as Carrie. The woman seemed to let go of her and immediately began rubbing her arm and softened her tone. She said it was no problem, and she was just worried about where she was, since she wasn't in the last place that she saw her.

I paused for a second, and not knowing what to do next, when Sabrina asked if she could play a bit longer. The woman then agreed, and as she said a few more things to her, I started walking back to Charlie. And that's when she said to me, Sabrina scared, Mommy. I couldn't risk it.

Having my own daughter there and thinking what I would do if anything happened to her, I called the cops. The girl went back and continued to play, so I called them while they weren't around. They stayed on the phone until they said someone had showed up at the park, and I called the girls back over. I told them to stay by me no matter who came up to the bench. To my surprise, though, as I stood up and turned around to see the cop, I noticed that the woman at the table was gone. Even her newspaper, or whatever, she was just gone.

I gave my report to the officer, and we actually had a few other adults that came over and asked if it was about the girl too, because they had more to add as well. It turned out, the little girl's name really was Sabrina. She was abducted by this woman and was told to use the name Carrie in hopes that they wouldn't be found. Sabrina talked to the cop, and they ended up taking her with them. even though she cried asking to stay with us.

I told her she was safe and that they would help find her real mom. I learned, however, that the woman was someone that they actually did know, her parents. I don't know if she was a family member or just a friend, but they took her when they weren't aware, and they had actually left the state. They weren't even from the state that we were in. She was reunited with her real parents, of course. I didn't really hear much else about it. Sometimes I do want to look her up to see how she's doing,

or how her parents are doing. I'm just incredibly thankful that day that my daughter was so outgoing and willing to reach out to others that she trusted me and surely enough to tell us. It scares me to think about what could have happened if I didn't catch on, or if she didn't speak up. Kids can be smarter than you think, so keep an open mind and don't pass off some of the weird things that they say as just some strange kid talk. Lasagne sur-gillet, puissance-moyerned for 15 minutes. We're like to dojo.

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As a long-distance trucker, it was normal for me to come across cars and trucks that passed me, cut me off, things of that nature. I'm so used to it, and you're pretty much taught

to look out for that kind of stuff, so, You get an idea of when it's going to happen, and you slow down or get over as needed. Some people are very colorful and feel the need to express exactly what they are doing and how they felt about it, too. I'm a female driver, so I've had people drive next to me or stop at a light that seemed to treat me differently after seeing it was a woman behind the wheel. Different, as in they backed off or occasionally, got more aggressive, thinking they could threaten me off the road, I guess.

I didn't scare easily, though. I do drive a big-ass truck, after all. There was this one guy that actually caused a pretty terrifying situation for me. It was getting dark, and the later at night that it gets, the less traffic there is in the road. This is why I preferred night driving. I was on one of those old two-lane freeways, just a little. about totally flat with minimal curves. I was also coming back from a drop-off, so I didn't have a trailer attached, which also meant

a much lighter load and easier drive. So to say that I was enjoying this ride was a bit of an understatement. Being this late, also meant little to know other cars, too. Until I saw headlights coming up behind me, I take note of this, and I continue to continue as I was. If they want to pass, they can pass. However, some people just don't for whatever reason, and it seemed like that's what this person was doing. The headlights were a little higher, and by the outline, I could tell that it was a truck, like a personal one, not a semi. They stayed behind me for some time, and then I noticed that they got pretty close to the back end of my truck.

Again, something I noticed people doing right before they passed me, so when they started falling behind, I slowed down some, giving them the opportunity to do so. That's not what they seemed to want to do. When I slowed down, they got on my tail again and started flashing their lights. I didn't understand why as they were going the same way as me, so they couldn't be warning me of a speed trap ahead. head or anything like that. There was seemingly nothing wrong with my truck, as there were no abnormal sounds, feels, or even lights.

So, I just ignored it and went a little under the speed limit, hoping that they would just pass already. Several awkward minutes later, they were still behind me, gunning it up, nearly hitting me, and then backing off. And with them flashing their lights, I find it. decided to give a little hints to back off or go around by honking and motioning out the window for them to co-around. That's when they finally seemed to get the hint, and went in the lane next to me, appearing like they were going to pass. As a force of habit, I looked over at this person as they went by to see this guy with his cab light on, and he looked furious.

He kept looking over at me and back at the road, and he was shouting something. Both of our windows were up, so I have no idea what it was. He was very red, though, and you could tell that he was straining himself as he yelled. I had no idea what was wrong with this guy, and all I could think to do was look at him confused, slightly shrugging in a what the hell is wrong with you kind of way. Then, he started motioning like he wanted me to pull over, and like hell was I going to do that. I just shook no, and continued driving, slowing down again slightly, so that he would hopefully just move on. I guess that he wasn't interested in that, though, as he slowed back down to get behind me,

and this time he actually hit the back of my truck. He hit it hard enough that it made me lurch forward. I knew I needed to find a way to get away from this guy, but there was literally nothing around me. I had passed a sign for gas and a hotel several miles back, but it was still going to be a solid 20 miles or so before I got to the exit. So I had to hope that this guy just wouldn't destroy my truck before I got there. He hit me two more times before he tried doing the same thing, pulled up next to me, and demanded that I pulled over. At this point, I was going over the speed limit, hoping that he would just leave me alone or even hoping that there could be a cop to intervene, but neither happened. So I just tried to match the speed so that when he did ram me, it wouldn't be as damaging and counted out the mile markers until I got to the exit.

I did call it in to our dispatch to let them know, in case something did happen to me. but it's not like there was much that they could do either, but call authorities, and maybe they would just catch up to us. Unfortunately, he was relentless and started hitting me in my driver's side. So, I decided to try something stupid. I put my hands up and agreed to get over. There was no way that I was getting out with this psycho, but I needed to get ahead of him. I pulled over, keeping my doors locked and windows open, and, as I expected, he pulled over in front of me. What I didn't expect was for him to be carrying a gun.

I know nothing about guns, so all I could tell you is that it looked like it was some kind of handgun, but it had a longer barrel, but not like a shotgun. Either way, I was noping out of that situation, and as he was walking towards my truck, I gunned it as hard as my poor truck could go. He challenged me, thinking that I wouldn't hit him, and he was right. But that didn't stop me from hitting his truck, because instead of parking on the shoulder, he parked across the lane. I got out of there, hearing shots in the distance, until I found the next exit. I got off the highway and called dispatch, and I explained everything to them. They suggested that I find a police station to file a report.

since there was damage to the truck. I ended up at a gas station with a McDonald's attached to it, and I sat there talking with someone about what happened and where the closest station was. It was a small little town in West Virginia, so they said that they were closed unless there was an emergency, and then the calls to the police station went directly to the sheriff. I knew the guy was long gone, so I agreed to wait.

until morning and they agreed to let me pull my truck around the back to try and hide it. The next morning, I went to file the report and, to my surprise, they said this wasn't the first time they've had reports like this. However, it was the first time a semi-driver was the victim. They'd had reports of other people just passing through being rammed and told to pull over, and when they do, the person holds them at gunpoint and robs them. The cop even mentioned that they were probably desperate since they were trying to stop a semi. After that, I left, shuddering at the damage to my truck, and I went the rest of the way home with no issues, thankfully. That's not to say that I wasn't a little paranoid about people

getting too close to me, though. As far as I know, the guy was never caught, but I'm not entirely sure. I hope that I at least did some decent damage to the front and side of his truck, though, rendering it useless for a while. Work tried to give me a hard time about the damage and what I should have done instead, but I would do it all again if it meant saving my own life. So, angry guy from West Virginia, I hope that you and I never have a run-in again. I have a horrifying story from when I was a kid, one that, looking back, could have ended a lot worse than it did. It was honestly very traumatic, and it actually made me not trust people for a majority of my teen years, because this whole thing had really messed with me. I'm in my late 20s now, so looking back, I can at least look at it with the understanding that I was a naive,

child, and that anyone could have been a victim to what happened. I just hate that it was me and my family that did end up as the victims. So, this happened back in the late 90s, and actually happened two days before Christmas. So, I guess that would make it Christmas Eve, Eve. For a little bit of information on me and my family around this time, I was 12 years old, and I lived with my parents and my older sister. My older sister was 16 and acted way too old for her age. In this particular year, I had actually come down with the flu a few days before Christmas.

I had all the flu-like symptoms, vomiting, fever, coughing, feeling like I was about to die. I was the only person in my entire family to get sick at this point. my parents didn't get it. My sister had what was essentially a cold for a day or two, and of course it got pretty bad for me for several days. On that night, Christmas Eve Eve, my father's work was having an office holiday get-together,

where the employees were expected to bring their family for a nice dinner at some fancy place. They had done this pretty much every year, but I had never gone to one. Myself and my sister were always dropped off at my grandma's house, and we stayed there while they got to have a good time. This year, however, was the first year where my sister had been told that she could go, which just left me.

I was still sick, but I was doing much better than I had been, so my parents were considering dropping me off at my grandmother's house again. But, at the same time, they didn't want me getting to. getting her sick, because she had some serious health problems of her own. I actually brought up the possibility of me just staying home alone. My parents were against it at first, but after a while they thought about it and agreed that I was probably at an age where I would be okay for a few hours. I was beyond excited to stay home by myself so that I could play my SNESS for hours on end

and not be told that I had to get off or go to bed at a certain time. Plus, being sick, I hadn't been able to do anything fun, so I was all about it. The night came, my mom set several rules for me and told me that they would be back at whatever time she mentioned. I don't recall a lot of what she said, mostly because I was just really excited that I would be all by myself. After a bit of back and forth, they left. I went upstairs to my bedroom and immediately booted up TMNT Turtles in Time, which is still my favorite game to this day. I think I was about 30 or so minutes into my game when I heard what sounded like the doorbell ringing, though in my room you couldn't really hear it very loudly. I paused the game and went down to the living room and glanced out the window to see if there was someone at the door.

Sure enough, there were two men standing there at the door looking around and waiting impatiently. Now, at first, I was not going to answer the door. My mother told me to not answer it for anyone if they showed up, but these two guys weren't just random guys. I could tell by their outfits that they were police officers. They had the hats, they had what looked like badges on their jackets, and they had they had the belts with a bunch of things on them. I was conflicted. I was told to not answer the door, but these were police, which meant that they were the good guys, right?

After thinking about it, I figured that they probably had the wrong house or just needed information or something, so I opened the door. I kept the screen door shut and locked, but opened the wooden door, and I asked them what they needed. The two men looked at me and the one in front smirked. He then asked me where my parents were. I told them that they had just left to go to the store and that they would be back any minute. I don't know why I told them that lie specifically, but it sounded like a good lie that would work for the moment. The man in the front then reached for the door handle on the screen door and told me that he needed to come in.

I told him that I didn't think he was allowed to come in the house like that, and he came back with, We're the police. We're allowed to go wherever we want. Again, I was a kid, so I really didn't know if that was true or if he was lying, but my mind was just fluttering with, I'm going to prison if I don't do what he says.

I asked if he could wait for my parents to come home, and he bent down towards me and looked me straight in the face, saying, no, I have to come in right now, because I think that you are doing something illegal. Again, that immediate fear that I was going to be arrested hit me, so I unlocked the screen door and told him that I wasn't doing anything illegal, that I was just playing my SNS in my bedroom. The two men stepped into the living room and looked around the room for a moment before shaking their heads and turning their attention back to me. The one from before told me that he needed to look around the house for anything illegal,

and that while he was doing that, I wasn't allowed to be in the room. I once again told him that there wasn't anything illegal in the house, and I'm pretty sure this is where I started crying and freaking out. He told me that he was just there to make sure that was the truth, so I needed to go to my room and wait for him to tell me to come back out. Again, I didn't know what was going on, so I just said okay and did what he asked. I went up to my room, and I sat on my bed,

just crying and waiting for him to come tell me that I could come out. I sat there for what felt like forever, just thinking that I was going to jail, that he was going to arrest me for being home alone, and then they were going to arrest my family, because they had left me there alone. I have no idea how long I actually sat there waiting for them to come get me, but it had to have been around 20 or 30 minutes.

After waiting for that long, I looked out the window of my room to see if I could see their police car, and it was at that point I noticed that there was an old van parked out front that was pulling away from the driveway. I was confused. and that wasn't a cop car, and they didn't come tell me they were done, so was that them? Why were they leaving like that? I opened the door and peaked out, saying, hello? Can I come out now?

But there was no response. At that point, I was so confused about what had just happened. I exited my room and went downstairs, and what I saw was genuinely heartbreaking. These two men, these two police officers, had stolen all of our Christmas stuff. When I say all of it, I mean the presents, the lights, the ornaments, the garland, all of it, with the exception of the tree. It was still standing there in its base. Again, confusion was all that I could feel in my mind. My heart was racing.

I had no idea what exactly. exactly had just taken place. I sat on the couch and I stared at the wall for a while until my parents got home. When they did, the first thing they saw was me sitting on the couch, struggling to breathe and bawling my eyes out. The second thing they saw was the empty tree. I'm not sure how long it took me to explain everything through the sobbing, but I finally did tell them that two police officers came in and stole everything. They sat me down and asked me a few questions while my sister was on the phone with 911. I think they were trying to help me get my emotions out and talk through the event.

They asked me if the police officers did anything to me physically, and I told them no because they hadn't, thankfully. The police did show up, the real police, and I had to describe the two men to the cops, even though seeing them made me honestly terrified. because to me, those two men were real cops, and I thought that they wouldn't take me seriously because of that. This whole event made me distrust pretty much everyone as a kid, and the fact that these two men were dressed as police and used false authority to their advantage to get me to listen to them,

it's just awful. My parents told me that it wasn't my fault, but I felt like it was, and that I should have known better. They of course said that they shouldn't have left me alone like that, which, yeah, that's probably true, but no one could have known that this was what was going to happen. Unfortunately, to the best of my knowledge, they never caught the two men that stole everything.

I never heard anything about it from my parents, even into adulthood, which tells me that they have no idea who they were. This whole event, left a bit of a stain on Christmas for me, and it's one of those things that I cannot seem to forget. But, as mentioned, I am glad that they just decided to rob us, and that they didn't have any intentions beyond that.

Back when I was very young, I had a friend that I loved to hang out with that I'm going to call Zach. Zach went to the same school as me, but he took a different bus. So, while he did live close, it wasn't close enough for me to walk there. However, both of our families got along, so we spent a lot of time to gather outside of school. Sometimes at my place, and also at his, depending on what we wanted to do with our time. He was an only child, and they had a pool, whereas I had two other siblings and no pool,

very important things as a child. So, yeah. Zach and I were pretty inseparable, and each of our homes had their benefits. Zach lived with his mom and dad in his grandparents' home. His grandma passed away when he was much younger, so I never met her. But his grandpa still lived there, and he was pretty cool. Every time I would come over, he would show me some new magic trick. Usually they were card tricks, but he had a few other ones that I remember involving

coins or other smaller objects. I thought it was really cool and actually looked forward to it when I would visit. If we pestered him enough, he would finally tell us how he did it, and I would go home and impress my family with my newfound knowledge. Then, as summer hit, I found myself staying at Zach's home a lot more. However, my family took a vacation, so I didn't see him for about a week. When we returned home, I was pretty excited to see him as I had bought us matching hats. I went over there, but I felt like something was off.

I was young, so my focus on what was different was quickly pushed to the back of my mind. After some time, one of us mentioned something about a trick, and that's when it hit me. I hadn't seen his grandpa at all since I'd been there. Usually he was already sitting in his chair in the living room when I arrived, but I never saw him there or anywhere else. Not the kitchen, not passing by in the hall, not even to go check the mail, as he liked to do.

So I asked Zach where he was. His answer was casual as he explained that he hadn't been feeling well, so he'd been staying in his room, only coming out to use the bathroom. He said that his mom, his grandpa's daughter, would even bring him food. That seemed like a pretty sound reason to me, so we just continued on with what we were doing. But I became even more curious as I would go over there, and there was still no sign of his grandpa. I asked Zach if we could at least go say hi to him, but he said that he wasn't allowed to go in there. In fact, that day, he told me that he hadn't seen his own grandpa in about a week,

when he went to the bathroom, but he remembered how ill he looked, and again chalked it up to not being in there and risk making him worse, or getting us sick. I was still very curious, but I let it go. I wasn't really able to do anything else. I just expressed to my parents how I was kind of sad about not seeing him. My paternal grandfather had passed away, and my maternal grandpa was not as fun. He was more uptight and very strict. But what struck me as odd was when Zach's family suddenly took a vacation. I thought it was weird because it was towards the beginning of the school year.

Of course, I was a little upset that my friend just wasn't showing up for school one day, but I still found it an odd time for a vacation. And my parents agreed. They told me something about how some people can only go at certain times, so I'd just let it go and patiently waited for him to return. But when he finally returned, and I was able to come over again, things definitely felt off. One of the first things I noticed was all the candles that were always lit.

I remember one time when my mom dropped me off, our moms started talking about them, and she told my mom about selling them. Then I noticed the locks on Grandpa's door. It was what I now know as a Deadbolt-style lock. I asked Zach about it again, and he said that his grandpa wanted to be left alone, so he added the lock while they were out on vacation.

I may have just been a case. kid, but everything about this seemed really weird. His grandpa was always the social type and very friendly, so it was so out of character for him to become so reclusive. It was probably life as normal for the next month or so, until one day Zach just wasn't at school. I went home and told my parents, and I tried calling to see if he was okay. No one answered.

Then the next day, he was absent again. My mom said that he was probably gone because he was sick and would return a few days later. But that never happened. Days turned to weeks and then months. But I never saw Zach again. I was relentless, and I asked to go to Zach's to see him, and my parents reluctantly agreed. But when we arrived, she stopped on the street and showed me how the house had looked, abandoned.

All the toys and decorations in the yard and on the porch were just gone. My mom quickly told me that it looked like they moved and apologized that it was so sudden and without knowledge. I remember being so upset for weeks. My best friend just up and left, even though I know that it wouldn't have been his choice, obviously, and he never told me or warned me about it. It took me some time to finally get past it.

I did have some other friends, but Zach really was my best friend. Fast forward, and I'm now 28, and being invited to our high school's 10-year reunion. I was at my parents' house, and the reunion in our childhood was brought up. We talked about mine and my siblings' classes and friends, and the little shenanigans that we would get into. They expressed the feelings for the friends that we had that they liked and the ones they didn't care for. That, of course, reminded me of Zach. So I waited for them to bring him up, but they never did. So I did.

I mentioned how I loved hanging out with him, and that his family just got up and left one day. My dad kind of laughed and then cleared his throat, while my mom had that obvious look of trying to hide something. I knew that face. She did something similar when she would tell us kids an innocent lie, like to dissuade us from waking up for Santa Claus on Christmas Eve, so I asked her what was wrong. She explained that she knew more about Zach than she led on when I was a kid. Zach and his family didn't just move one day.

They were pretty much forced out after a secret they kept was finally dug up. Apparently, Grandpa had definitely been pretty sick, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. When he fell ill, they kept him in his room, but tragically, he passed. However, Zach's parents never reported his death. In fact, they kept his body in his room, covered up and locked in. My parents bounced ideas off of each other, determined that, based on the timing and what they heard on the news,

they probably went on their vacation because of the smell. Then they returned, and Mom went into heavy cleaning mode, including air fresheners and candles everywhere. When my mom talked to her about candles that day, she said that she could smell something in the air and that it was a smell that she was familiar with. She used to volunteer for an animal hospital, and they took in animals that were found deceased. She got used to the smell.

Because of this and me telling me all about their grandpa being sick, she called in for an anonymous welfare check. Shortly after, and when I mentioned Zach not being at school, she drove over to their home and saw cop cars and a coroner van out front. She saw Zach's mom out front with a red face, and watery eyes like she'd been crying. It didn't take long for the news to pick up on it. Body found in home.

Zach's grandfather had died in that house, and they all continued to live there while he was just left in the bedroom. I was horrified when she told me this. I had stayed in that house while he was there, most likely already dead, but it now made sense as to why my mom didn't let me stay overnight, after that day that she came in with me.

Some of this was rumored, but putting it all together, it makes sense. Zach's grandparents were pretty well off. They owned their business, but it was shared with their business partner. When he passed, he would leave the business to his partner and not his own daughter. I'm sure he had his reasons. They did live in his house, after all. On top of the business shares, he also got Social Security checks that were pretty much going into their pockets. And if they reported him as deceased, they wouldn't get any of that anymore.

So, they tried to keep up the charade as long as possible. Of course, when the welfare check was called, they demanded they opened the grandpa's door, where they then found his body. As soon as Zach came home from school, they were gone. His parents were charged with fraud, so Zach was sent to live with someone else, someone that we didn't know. So, that's how I found out, kind of, what happened to my childhood best friend. The whole time I was sad about not seeing his grandpa, and then sad to just unexpectedly lose my friend.

My parents, of course, never told me any of this before, which was understandable, But now that I'm older, it creeps me out knowing how close I was to a dead body, and that they even knowingly lived there with it. I just hope that Zach, first off, wasn't aware of what was happening, and second, I hope he got to live a happy life after he moved, and got away from his messed up and greedy parents. I have a story that I wanted to share from about 10 years ago that was one of the most terrifying things to happen to me. It's a rough story to tell, because at the end of it all, I was pretty messed up, both physically and mentally.

I don't want to give out too much information about where I live or where this happened for obvious reasons, but I will say that it was in the Midwest, and where I live we get some pretty serious winters. By that, I mean that we get a lot of snow, a lot of accumulation, and a lot of time the ground freezes over pretty bad. For the most part, the main cities are well taken care of, and they treat the roads. But when you get in between the cities or suburbs, it's kind of a we wish you the best of luck, hope you don't die situation. and I nearly did die, so their well-wishes of luck didn't really do much for me.

As mentioned, this was about ten years ago. I think it was the winter of 2011 into 2012, and what happened was in very late December. I know this because I was actually driving home from my parents' house after having spent Christmas with them. It had become a bit of a tradition as I got older, and I moved away from home. They wanted me to spend at least a few days around the week of Christmas with them, and I've always been close to my parents, so I didn't really want to let them down. This year in particular, the weather getting there was fine, but the day before I was set to head home, the news had mentioned that we were going to get hit by a decent amount of freezing rain,

followed by some snow. If you don't live in an area where you get freezing rain snow mixes, let me tell you, it can be hell to go anywhere. That rain leaves a really nice layer of ice on the road, and the snow just makes it that much more lovely. Seeing as how I had to drive about three hours to get from my parents' house to my home, I was watching the weather forecast pretty closely. based on this forecast, if I left at 8 in the morning, I would be able to get most of the way home before the storm hit the area.

So I made plans on that. Of course, my dad tried to convince me to wait it out and stay a couple of days longer just in case, but I had to get back to work. And being that I was around 30 at this time, I kind of assumed that my plan would work fine and that, so long as I stuck with it, I would be okay. So, the next morning, I got all of my stuff together, got a shower in, and I spent about half an hour having coffee with my parents before I hit the road. I actually got out about 15 minutes before 8, and was even more convinced that I would be fine, and that I would beat the wintry mix that was expected to completely cover the area. And, of course, the only way to describe my case.

hubris was sorely mistaken. I got out on the road, drove for about half an hour, and almost at exactly the 40-minute mark, I noticed small raindrops hitting my windshield. Of course, at this point, I had reached the outside of the city that my parents live in, which meant that, for most of the rest of the trip, the roads were not going to be treated at all. I was nervous but kept telling myself that So long as I kept the car going at a steady pace I would make it before things got too bad

Plus the odds of it getting really bad ahead of me were pretty slim right I could totally beat the brunt of this storm Yeah, I was way wrong Within a few minutes of the rain starting It hit a point where I could barely see in front of me It was coming down so hard I could tell that the road was starting to get slick in certain spots, so I slowed down some, but was still confident that,

if I just pushed on for a little while longer, I would be in the clear. Then, after driving in the rain for probably close to 15 minutes, the flurries started. These were the massive chunks of snow that cover everything in a matter of minutes. By this point, I was actually... getting nervous. The ground and the road were starting to be covered, there were spots of ice everywhere,

and the conditions were nowhere near ideal. The problem was that, by that point, I was about an hour and ten minutes into the drive home. Neither continuing on the road nor turning back really seemed like a good idea. If I kept going, I could at least get most of the way there, or get through some of it and get home eventually, but turning back would be driving straight into where the storm was already hitting,

and that seemed like it would be even more dangerous. I really didn't know what to do. Part of me wanted to just pull over where I was and see how bad it got, but if we were going to be covered in what was essentially an ice storm, then parking and waiting could have honestly been a death sentence. I was in a bit of a state of panic. So I decided that I would call my parents' home phone and have them on speakerphone while I drove at a slow but steady pace down the road. My dad answered, and I immediately told him that he was right, that I should have just stayed there for an extra day or two.

He told me to just turn around and come back. I told him that I was already almost half of the way out. and that turning around wasn't a good idea. We talked for a bit about how things were looking. He told me that the forecast had pretty much changed to do not go out unless it's life or death, which didn't help my anxiety. I just told him that I wanted to keep them on the phone for a while,

just in case things went bad, and he agreed. He started telling me about the random things he was going to have to do around the house, and how much he was looking forward, to having to shovel the driveway tomorrow. After about 10 minutes of the banter, I heard him say, uh-oh. I asked him what was wrong,

and he mentioned that the power had just flickered, and that he may lose me. I, of course, had called their home phone because it was the first speed dial I had set on my cell phone. He then started saying that, if they lost power, I should just call them back on his cell phone. and as soon as he said that the line cut out.

I cursed my luck, and then did something beyond astronomically stupid. I looked down and reached to grab my phone so that I could call him back. As soon as I looked back up from the cup holder, which couldn't have been more than half a second, my eyes met the road and saw the thing that messed me up psychologically. I saw a child in the road. Now, I have to say that I am 100% certain that what I saw was a small child wandering into the road.

They had on a dark coat with a fur hood. They had long curly red hair, which made me think it was a little girl, and she was wearing what looked like a long, dark dress, that kind of puffed outward near the bottom. I can remember and replay this imagery in my head without full. fail every single time I think about it. I have no idea why there would have been a child walking in the road, especially out here between cities in what was basically the middle of nowhere,

but I'm certain there was. Of course, my instincts then kicked in, and I slammed on my brakes, which was also rather stupid of me. As soon as my brakes kicked in, my tires slid on the ice, and my car took a hard turn to the left and started to fish tail. Because I panicked and didn't correct my maneuvers, I ended up flipping my car multiple times onto the side of the road, and I was nothing shy of lucky that I did not smash into a tree

or end up upside down. Thankfully, the car did land upright, and while I did black out for a few seconds, I eventually got through the shock and was able to focus on things. My head was damn near hitting the roof of the car with how much it had been crushed down, and the windows were all shattered. I could feel the blood on my face. I could tell that I was messed up. But I knew that I needed to get to my phone if I was going to live. Otherwise, there was a good chance that I was going to freeze to death.

Thankfully, I was able to run. reach my phone and hit the button to call my dad's cell. As soon as he answered, I cut off his cheerful greeting with call 911. I flipped my car, and I'm bleeding. He told my mom to call 911 on her phone, and he kept me on, trying to talk to me and make sure that I didn't pass out. It was a bit of a struggle trying to tell him where exactly I was, but the medical crew was able to figure it all out. And they actually got the ambulance to me within a fairly reasonable amount of time, especially considering how bad it was out on the road. By the time they got me out of the car and to the hospital, I was barely awake. I had lost a lot of blood and I was certain

that I was going to be in a lot of pain the moment that the adrenaline wore off. By the end of it, I had a broken leg, a cracked pelvis, a fractured orbital socket from where I smacked my head on my window, which I don't remember happening. I also had multiple contusions on my head and all over my body, multiple cuts on my face, and definitely had a fairly major concussion. So, the fact that I was able to get to my phone and get the call out to my dad was nothing short of a miracle. Of course, when I told the EMS that there was a child out in the woods that had walked out into the road, they had to report it to the police so that they could do a search. A child wouldn't live long in the storms, so they had to be sure that there wasn't one out there. They never found a little girl, and I was basically told that I probably saw a deer or something like that,

and that I misremembered it because of my head injury. I could tell you right now that it was not a deer. I know what a deer looks like, and my memory up to the accident is crystal clear. It was definitely a little girl, though at this point, I don't think that she was a living little girl. Part of me thinks that this was some kind of spirit

that was trying to kill me and nearly succeeded. So that's the story of the time that I nearly died in the middle of a winter storm, in the middle of nowhere. Ever since then, if there's even a hint of snow, I'll just stay in, wait it out, because I'm convinced that the little girl is some kind of demonic spirit out there, just waiting for it to snow so that they can potentially walk out into the road and lure other motorists to their death. This took place back in 1999. when I was 18.

I won't sugarcoat it, and just say that I didn't have a good childhood, nor am I asking for any pity. It made me who I am today, but doesn't mean that I've accepted it either. My dad was not in the picture. I knew his name was Scott, and that's about it. Hell, I still hardly know anything about him.

I lived with my mom for a while, and whatever guy she was with, And when she would disappear for days, I was left with my grandma. My grandma was fine. She was kind enough to me, but her thought was, I raised my kids, I don't want to raise yours, too. So I think there was a bit of animosity there, I guess. The problem was that somehow, my mom always seemed to pick the winners,

as they were more interested in me than her. I'd woken up on multiple occasions to them doing things in my room, being left alone with them, giving them another opportunity. To say it messed me up was an understatement. I knew what they were doing was wrong, but my mom wouldn't believe me. My grandma pretty much just complained about her choice and men to me and to her, and if she mentioned it to my mom, she would just beat me when I got home for spreading dangerous lies. School life wasn't much better.

I had a few friends I was semi-close to that I hung out with, but I was never close enough to tell anyone about what was going on at home. I sucked in a lot of my classes, because either I struggled to understand things, like a lot of the math and science stuff, or I just wasn't interested in it. I enjoyed the English classes because I loved writing anything from fiction, research papers, poetry, all of it.

But my grammar was awful. I didn't connect to any teacher, even though my English teacher tried. But since he was male, I didn't want to get close to him. I feel like at school I just kind of existed. And as I got older, I felt the only way to connect to anyone was to get close to the one person I thought that I knew, my mother. So, I tried to be interested in the things that she was interested in. I started getting high, and I drank with her.

It just numbed me, so I didn't notice the things her friends would do to me. Again, I'm not looking for any pity, or for anyone to tell me what I should have done, but just giving a quick rundown of why I chose to do what I did after all of this. I didn't want this life. I knew I wanted more, but I didn't know how to get out of this. What I did know was that if I didn't get away from it all, I was going to die, be it from my own doing or someone else that I didn't know. So, at the age of 17, I ran away.

I didn't tell anyone. I took money out of my mom's purse and small amounts, so I had something, and on the first day of school, I skipped, and I started to find my own way as far away from Georgia as I could. I walked a lot, and when I couldn't walk, I found a bus stop, and rested until I got funny looks and moved on, or occasionally took the bus. That's what brings me to this story. It was my birthday month, March, so I'd been gone for several months, at this point, and I managed to get to Iowa. I hitched hike a lot, and I even came across some pretty cool people. I lied to some of them, telling them I was 19 or 20, and just trying to explore the world,

as they were suspicious of me being a runaway, but others were just accepting and willing to take me somewhere that I asked. I actually found a bar that allowed me to work as a busboy, and do the dishes. And they paid me under the table since I didn't have an ID, and technically wasn't old enough to work there. I didn't drink or anything, so I know paying me was risky for them,

but I didn't abuse it. I slept on people's couches, so all the money I was making was just accumulating in my backpack to help me get to where I needed. When I made enough, I quit, giving them a notice, and I left again, doing what I did the last time. Sometimes I even took rides from truckers. They really got me the furthest and typically the cheapest,

because a lot of them just wanted company. I always made sure to tell them that I had money to pay them and made sure they agreed before I got in. I was very black and white about it. I didn't do any kind of favor. for people. So, when I came across another trucker at an old diner, and we started talking as we ate our lunch next to each other.

He was heading to Wyoming, so I asked if he was willing to have a passenger, and he agreed. I again told him I was willing to pay for the ride, and we both agreed on $100. I gathered my things, and we both headed off. I didn't have much with me. I did buy a better backpack that held more stuff and typically wore two layers of clothing, so I could have more clothes. Because of this, I wore bagier clothes on top of tighter clothes, and when I could find a place, I usually kept my hair cut short,

like pixie style. It made it a lot easier to manage. I don't think I ever really looked attractive. and I did that for a reason. Anyways, this guy seemed fine. We made some small talk. He told me where he was from and how he became a trucker. I told him what I'd normally told people,

that I was 18 and just trying to figure out life. He understood, and he seemed to respect that, even saying that he wished he would have done the same thing at my age. I appreciated that he didn't try to give me some speech about being too young to know what I was doing. I started getting tired as I hadn't slept much that night, but regardless of the person, I didn't sleep when other people were driving. I still didn't trust people no matter how nice they seemed. This is also why I always kept a pocket knife and pepper spray on my person, never my bag.

They were actually one of the first. first things that I bought. To keep myself awake, I would count or name off things that I saw in my head. The guy must have noticed something was wrong, and he offered me some coffee from a thermos that he had. I didn't take food or handouts from people either, so I declined. I had a bottle of water and some of the energy pills in my bag if needed. After a few hours, he said he was going to make a quick stop to use the restroom. and that way we could stretch and refresh. And I thought it was a good idea.

I'm still watching my surroundings and saw the gas station sign with the exit number being a few miles off, so I knew that we were getting close. However, he started slowing down before we even got to the exit ramp. This immediately put me on edge. I looked around and then looked at him, and without skipping a beat, and looking calm and collected,

he said he always slowed down before the exit. He said he'd been cut off too many times at the last second on exit ramps, and it also gave people behind him the chance to go around him because he knows his wide, slow turns often annoyed other drivers. It made sense to me at the time, but I was still cautious, and I was right to be. He then came to a complete stop, on the shoulder when the exit was within our vision less than a hundred feet in front of us again i gave him a kind of what the hell look and he said if you want me to take you further you'll have to pay up i

reminded him that he agreed to one hundred dollars to let me go with him to wyoming and he argued that i would pay the hundred dollars but didn't agree on the distance i argued with him some more because this is why I was very specific before I ever got into any vehicle. Not liking where this was going, I immediately went for the handle to jump out, and I noticed the door would not open. That's when he jumped towards me, nearly getting on top of me, demanding that I pay him. I distracted him by half-ass fighting him with my left hand, and letting him try and finagle his way to my pants as it,

while I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my spray. I was able to get him in his left eye, causing him to jump back some. I still couldn't get the door open, so I managed to roll down the window, grab my bag, and jumped out of it. He tried to grab me, and I kicked landing a solid one into his face, I believe. I screamed as loud as I could trying to make a scene and ran over the hill on the exit, hoping that. someone would hear it as the gas station was right off of the exit.

Thankfully, someone did. Some lady was getting in a car with a little kid, and she looked up, and even though she seemed hesitant to approach, she did ask me what was wrong. I briefly explained to her and demanded that somebody called the cops. She grabbed my arm, picked up her kid, and she took us both back into the building. I looked out the window and saw that he was still sitting there, probably unable to see.

The cop showed up, but not before he did end up leaving. Another thing I always did was checking the plate number, and I grabbed the handlebar above the door to leave my prints on something. So I gave the cops the number and the detail of the truck, like the logos, and they said that they would look into it. They also asked for my info, but I didn't want to be traced, so I told them I didn't have a contact number, which was true, and I requested to be anonymous. I knew there wasn't anything they could do, nor probably would, but I'm not going to keep quiet on that stuff anymore. The lady offered to give me a ride to the next city that they were headed to, and even wanted to buy me a bus ticket.

I declined, but I knew when to wave the flag with some people. She gave me a ride for free, helped me figure out the bus routes, because it was confusing, paid for it, and even gave me an extra $20. On the ride, she didn't force conversation. She just played some children's music and then waited until I spoke. That was the only time that I cried and told someone everything that happened. She didn't react. She didn't flinch. She just listened.

When we got to the bus, she hugged me like I had never been hugged before and told me that she understood why I did what I did. And that I was brave for it. She didn't tell me to go or call home. Nothing like that. I never felt more accepted. I left, got on the bus, and made my way to Nebraska. This didn't stop me from taking rides from people, but I always made sure to stay one step ahead. I also never had a similar experience to that one.

Again, call me stupid, call me naive, I don't care. Because in reality, you can say what you would do all day long, but that's not how things work. Until you're actually in the position yourself, until you are in that exact moment with only seconds to react, you don't know what you would do. Regardless of what happened, I got away from the toxic home life, and I now live happily in Montana with my husband. What I did was definitely dangerous, especially for my age, and I would never suggest it to anyone. But I'll also be the first person to hear you out, understand your reasoning, and accept you for your decision. I strive to be like that woman that I met by chance.

Just know that not everyone is as they seem on the surface, no matter how much you think you know them or that you're safe. I went with those people because that was the only option that I had, especially in those winter months, but I never trusted them. So when you're soloing anything, I will be the first to tell you to put yourself first because you can't help anyone else if you can't help yourself. Anyways, there's my experience with a creepy trucker,

but I don't let it control me, so to that creepy trucker, I hope that you lost your eyesight, or at least maybe learned a lesson. I have a bit of a weird story, but nonetheless, I still wanted to share it with you. This story took place when I was a sophomore in high school, which was 10th grade. I was an only child, and of course by this time,

expected that I always would be. There were definitely times where I wanted a little brother or sister, especially when I was younger. I craved the sibling bond that a lot of my friends had, and even my parents, but I got used to it as I got older. I guess one good thing about being an only child is that my parents were typically willing to let me attend or sign up for any kind of clubs or events that I wanted to.

As they put it, they really wanted me to have a happy and fulfilled life. So while they pushed me to participate in things that would help me as an adult, I also liked to do things that they were a little less thrilled about. It was kind of my way of rebelling. That is why I signed up for the bowling team at my high school. Would I become a professional bowler and make it my career? Would I get a scholarship to a great college for it? Probably neither of those.

But seeing my parents' reactions and them willingly cough up the enrollment fees, it was pretty satisfying to me. Now, that doesn't mean that I didn't take it seriously, though. I loved it, and I got pretty damn good at it, too. I met several friends during our events, and it was a lot of fun. That's kind of where my story starts. I had a school bowling competition against another school, so that's where I was on this night.

My parents attended previous tournaments, but not often. excuses were anything from I have to work late to asking me if I needed them there and because they had to ask that I never wanted them there so I usually went on the bus with the rest of my league anyways we had our tourney which we just barely lost but what I loved about my league and our coach was that it wasn't about winning so afterwards we congratulated the other school and we all enjoyed pizza together. One of the girls from the other school had struck up a conversation with me, and after talking for a bit, we got on the topic of games. And then, she invited me to the arcade for a few games of Mortal Kombat. It was actually a lot of

fun, and she seemed hella cool, so I gave her my name and phone number so that we could possibly hang out in the future. She introduced herself as Megan. By the time I'd gotten home, I had already had a friend request from her on Facebook. I thought that it was funny how she found me so fast,

but I did have a pretty unique name, so I added her back. We continued talking some that night, and from there, we seemed to be starting a pretty good friendship. I thought it seemed innocent enough, until it began to quickly escalate. At first it would just be a slew of text messages while I was in school.

I would text her between classes or during downtime, but if I stopped responding, she would keep going, and then become upset about me not responding. I'm saying childish things like, enjoy your perfect friends at your perfect school. It was really weird and out of nowhere, and the first few times it happened, I would ask her if she was okay, and she would just say that she was having a bad time. But as she continued doing it, I became more brash with her,

reminding her that I was in class, something that she should have been doing too. I guess when she wasn't getting the reaction she wanted from the texts anymore, she started showing up at my school as it was getting out. Again, she was an assertive. school bowling leagues, so she had to be close in age or grade as me, so she had to be getting out of school early in order to meet me as our school let out. Our conversations would start out

friendly, usually me asking her how her day was and how she got here so fast, and she would typically avoid answering. But she would end up steering the conversation to me and ask me how my day was. And when I start talking about it casually, you could tell that she was getting upset. I would ask her what was wrong, and she would start becoming sarcastic, and again start teasing me about my perfect school in life. I was pretty fed up with her attitude at this point, especially since I still hardly knew her.

I told her if she was just hanging out and talking with me to make fun of me, then she could go fly a kite in nicer terms. I didn't need a bully from another school. She stopped texting me after that and removed me from Facebook, so I thought that that was the end of it. Silly me, I guess. I continued to spot her near my school,

or following me out of the parking lot. Sometimes I walked home as I lived pretty close to the school. I would say something to her, such as asking her what she wanted, but she would never talk to me. So, since she wouldn't talk to me, I would just pretend that she wasn't there. When I would walk home, when she was at nearby restaurants or parks that I went to with friends, I just didn't even look in her direction.

I didn't have a clue as to why she would be so nice at the tournament, but then turn into such a mean and antagonizing person. But here's where things started to take a good. turn for me. I was finally at my breaking point. I had told my parents about her in passing, but they never really gave it a second thought. They chalked it up to some other kid just wanting someone new to pick on, and basically gave me permission to defend myself if she ever tried to harm me, but that's about all they had to say about it. I had a league meeting at a nearby bowling alley, and I took a bus home from there. I could feel eyes on me, so I

looked up for my book, and who else did I spot, but Megan. She looked like she was seething, and to no surprise, I had no idea why. I hadn't talked to her for a while, so I couldn't see how she was mad at me. I wasn't surprised when she got off at the same stop as me, but I continued walking to ignore her. I was already in a bad mood from the day earlier, so I finally turned around and asked her what the hell she wanted from me and what the hell I could have done to make her so mad at me. After we both just stood there silently, she finally yelled at me between sobs, only confusing me more. You ruined my life. I have nothing special and you have everything. I hate you and your mother. I was shocked and confused, not knowing what to say or even how to

react. I just stood silently as I watched her turn back the way that she came from, and she ran out of view. I continued my walk home, but found myself starting to cry. I couldn't understand why, and I definitely did not understand why I felt guilty. What the hell could I have done to someone I had met less than a month ago to ruin their life? When I returned home, it was pretty obvious that I had been crying, and my mom immediately started asking me what was wrong. My dad was in the room, too, but was somewhat preoccupied. I can't remember what he was doing. I began to remind them of the girl, and I told them about prior and explained how she had

been following me. My mom was already looking curiously at me about the situation. Maybe it was just the rebellious side of me, but they seemed disinterested. in me telling them about my problems, so I never bothered speaking about her again. But then I mentioned what happened that night. I told them what she had yelled at me and how I didn't know what to do, but how I still felt really bad about it. My mom looked confused at first, not understanding what she specifically could have done, but

then we both noticed that my dad had stopped what he was doing and was just soon. staring in my direction. I can't really say he was staring at me, but maybe past me, like he was zoned out. My mom called his name to which he finally came back to reality. He apologized that I had to experience that and said that he would look into it, making sure it wouldn't happen again. I didn't know what he meant by that, but we just carried on with our night. Later on, I was in my bedroom doing whatever when I wanted to grab a bottle of water.

As I came out of my room, I could hear my parents talking, and I heard my names, so I immediately became nosy. That conversation that they were having changed my life forever. Based on what I heard, I could piece things together, and I had to be it. to confront them for it. They couldn't deny what I heard, but tried to just play with words. I was old enough to know better, though. Come to find out, before I was born, my father had an affair. But that affair was with my mother.

She was the other woman. His ex became pregnant, but he wasn't ready to settle down yet, so he messed up. around. And that's how he met my mom. He ended up leaving his ex and signed over his rights to his daughter saying that he didn't want anything to do with her. But karma came back around apparently, because my mom ended up pregnant with me a year later. And he decided to stick around. I think my mom had a lot to do with that. So this was obviously quite the blow to me. I had I always wondered a sibling, and even though my parents did take good care of me, they were all so honest, and they told me that I would be an only child because they didn't want any more. Hell, they never even wanted one.

But finding out that I at least had a half-sister out there had so many emotions swirling in me. She was obviously mad at me, or my family, but I could understand why. and I just wanted to hug her and apologize. My parents, of course, thought that it was a bad idea to get involved for the longest time. I didn't care. I wanted her in my life, even if they didn't want her in theirs. Over time, the relationship with my parents kind of deteriorated. But after a while, my mom understood my reasonings and gave me her blessings.

It was difficult at first. Megan was apprehensive and thought that I was just coming around to, I guess, brag further about my perfect life. But she finally began to trust me. We actually had a lot in common. We shared pictures of our childhood, hung out after school, and I even helped her with one of her classes. We grew to actually have a fairly normal sibling bond. and I'm so thankful to have her now. So there's my story of how my stalker turned out to be a sibling that I didn't know I had.

I didn't know what to think of her at first, or what her intentions were with her being so angry and following me, but I'm glad that I happened upon my parents' conversation. And I'm very thankful to have her in my life now. I was a park ranger for many years at a local park in my town. It was a decent-sized, with plenty to offer. It had two different playground areas for the smaller kids. There was a decent-sized walking and biking path that went back into the trees and circled around the entire park, and it also had a back entrance that split off to follow along the road. In the back, in the trees, there was also a...

a secluded gazebo area that people had parties at, too. Then, there was a small water park and skate park on the other side of the path. There always seemed to be something going on there, year-round. Which, I didn't mind. I loved being outside, and I loved my job, so I loved just patrolling the area or helping out when someone called us for something. However, it wasn't always a happy job. I also got sense to check on or clean up some bad situations. Most of the time it was people being disruptive, like drinking and being loud or inconsiderate to others.

People trashing an area, like at the gazebo in the back, and then leaving their mess, breaking up fights, things like that. But there were a few situations that stuck with me that I never really got answers for. This was one of the weirdest ones for me. So back by the gazebo was an open, grassy area that we tended to have school or scouts camping in. There was a place where you could barbecue, but they usually got permits to do a campfire. I assume to learn how to start fires and stuff like that. When we had groups like this, we typically had one ranger staying overnight in the area to make sure that everyone, one was safe, and also not doing things they weren't supposed to.

I'd done this a few times, and I loved it, because I got to hang out in the park all night, sleep under the stars, and typically got free food. So I was going to be staying one night since a group of Girl Scouts, or something of that sort, was going to be there. I, of course, drove there, but then all I had with me for the night was my backpack that had some of the things. I would take with me when I was camping.

My ID stuff to prove I was a park ranger and a fold-up cot that I had. I liked to literally sleep under the stars. No tent, no canopy, just me and a cot, and it was perfect. So, I did my rounds and answered questions that any of the adults had, helped lead them to the restrooms, and then they all got ready for bed and headed to their tents. I did another round just to make sure that everyone else was gone and that nothing was wrong,

and then I went and laid on my cot. It usually takes a while for me to fall asleep, though, so I laid there for a while, reading before I finally started to get drowsy. As I went to put my book back into my bag and turn off my headlamp, I heard crunching like someone was walking. I immediately looked around to see if anyone was getting. getting out of their tent, and I didn't see anyone. I turned my lamp back on and started to look over at the tents again,

but again I didn't see anyone getting out or any movements coming from them. So I started looking around the trees to see if there was someone around that shouldn't be, or possibly even wildlife. We did have the occasional dears or raccoons that may go through, so I was thinking that probably is what it was. But then, my eyes met with something standing in the trees. There's a pretty thick area of trees that separates the front of the park from the back, so it would be weird for anyone to be walking through them. Not to mention, when I did my walk around, there was no sign of anyone around,

and not even any extra cars in the parking lot. There was no reason for people to be here as we were long closed, so... I just sat and watched for a moment to see what they would do. They had to know that I was staring at them, with my light facing right at them, but still they didn't budge. As I watched this guy, though, my eyes started to focus more in the dark, and I realized a couple of things. One, this guy was huge. I was comparing him to the trees and his height was dawn. He had to be seven or eight feet tall, but maybe it was just because I was tired.

But other than just looking freakishly tall, I thought he was wearing a big fur coat. He just looked very furry. The problem I had with this, though, is that it was around August, I believe, so it was way too hot to be wearing a fur coat. I didn't want to alarm any of the kids. So I stood up and thought I would walk over there to see if they were okay, and then asked them to leave if so. As I stood up, the guy backed up slowly and started walking away. That's when I noticed that it wasn't a coat. This guy, or thing, was covered in fur.

His legs, arms, everywhere. I started getting closer to the trees when this thing just took off in the opposite direction. but on all fours. He was standing and walking on two legs, but then when he ran off on all fours, it seemed so fluid, like an animal, not a human. I'm not going to lie, though. I was not brave enough to follow this thing, but was also not wanting to wake up the campers. I didn't want to scare the kids and look like this psycho, so I walked along the outside of the trees, scared this thing was going to jump out at me.

but I didn't see it again. I called out to someone that was on call, and I asked if they knew of anything going on or anyone that was supposed to be here, and he said no. I told them that I saw something in the trees, and he immediately just dismissed it as a deer or something. So I tried to snap out of it and headed back to my cot and laid there.

Unfortunately, at that point, though, every little sound would catch my attention, when the wind blew and moved to brink. ranch, I would look over at it. I would look around if I heard a car driving by. Anytime the girls shifted in the tents, I would jump up. So, needless to say, I didn't sleep very well that night. Thankfully, the girls were young enough that they woke up pretty early, so I wasn't alone anymore.

Some of the adults noticed that I looked off and asked if I was okay, and I just said that I didn't sleep well, and I didn't mention anything else about it. I did tell my friend that worked there too about what had happened and what I saw, and of course he was adamant that I had seen Bigfoot. I live in a state that's known for its sightings, and that's all I'll say about my location, but I never believed in that stuff before. Now I'm not quite sure.

I don't know how else I could explain what I saw, though. Either way, I never believed in that stuff before. I never saw it again while I worked there, thankfully. But you can bet that I was better prepared for future overnight stays. This event happened the day after Christmas, back when I was a young kid. Probably around six or seven, I think. The day of Christmas was great. I got just about everything I'd asked for,

or at least was very happy with all the gifts that I got. One of the family gifts we got was a play set for snow. It was basically the same stuff that you use for sand castles, but designed for snow. There were plastic molds to make bricks, to build a wall, buckets, and even snow scoops to make snowballs. I was really excited about it because I had these plans of grandeur to make an igloo with it and have my own little hideout. We got a lot of snow in the state that we lived in, and it had just snowed a few days before Christmas, so I was excited to get out there and start on it. I had a brother that was two years older than me,

so we were given permission to go outside and to play for the afternoon. My brother had to do something first. I think it was finishing his chores or something to that effect, but I was impatient and decided to go on ahead without him. Out I went with my big puffy coat and gloves on and started making a stock of bricks. Our front yard, which should be a small. was where I was playing,

was a decent size. There were three big trees, two were pretty close together, and my dad had put up a hammock between them. There was a small playhouse and swing set there, but otherwise, it was a pretty open yard. It was also lined in with one of those simple chain-link fences so that you could clearly see the road from the yard and vice versa.

Being a kid with my specific agenda, I didn't pay attention to the cars that were driving by, until I noticed that one was slowing down. I looked up to see what looked like a typical dark gray minivan driving by. As it continued down the road, I went back to what I was doing. That was until I saw the same van pull up coming from the opposite direction and stop on the side of the road in front of our house. I thought that it was weird at first because we had a decent sense. sized driveway, and if it was family coming to visit, why wouldn't they just park in the

driveway? But that's when I noticed who was in the van. There was someone driving, of course, but the person stepping out of the passenger's side was Santa. As he got out and approached the fence, I was ecstatic and nearly bursting with excitement. I immediately ran up to the fence and started thanking him for the gifts that I got. and even what my brother got. And I just started rambling on about Christmas.

I noticed that he was smiling and chuckling a bit, and at some point of me stopping to finally breathe, he spoke. He said that he was happy that I was enjoying my gifts, but that he had one more gift for me. Of course, I lit up, and I was curious as to what it could be. He told me that he couldn't wrap it up, but said that I could come get it from the van. The thing is, he started walking back to the van

and stopped at the sliding door like he was waiting for me. Now, I knew about Stranger Danger. I knew that you shouldn't just go with anyone and the importance of it, but I was still a little kid. And this person didn't just appear to be anybody. To me, this was Santa. He was the epitome of joy and health. happiness, right? I guess my logic as a child was that he didn't demand I go with him,

nor did he rush me or try to pull me over the fence, and he allowed me to walk to the gate to leave the yard. If you wanted to take a kid, why would you take your time? So, as I approached the van, he slid the door open, and to my excitement, there was an actual puppy with a bowtie collar around his neck. I could not. I could not. explain to you the sheer happiness that I was experiencing at that time. And this is why child safety is incredibly important, folks. Without even being forced or coerced, I climbed into that van, not even thinking about the fact that there weren't any seats in the back, and I immediately hugged that puppy.

He had fluffy and soft white fur with little black paws like he was wearing boots. And before I even realized it, the door had closed, and Santa was back in the passenger seat. Unfortunately, I was too busy enjoying the puppy to realize the situation that I was in and the fact that we were now driving away. I remember I was trying to talk to Santa about names and things that I wanted to get for him, but I noticed a change in mood in that van. The lady was in normal clothing compared to him, and even when I saw Santa at stores or whatever,

he had the elves or Ms. Claus with him. There weren't really any normally dressed people with him, so I asked who she was. And I remember that she answered as if she wasn't insulted. She said, I'm Ms. Claus. Being a kid who just spoke what he thought, I said, you don't look like Ms. Claus. I don't remember what she said back.

but I know that it wasn't pleasant. From then, Santa and the lady began to have an argument. My parents were very loving to not only us kids but to each other, and I'm sure they probably did have arguments, but they never did it in front of us kids. So the things that they were saying to each other, they kind of frightened me, and it made me sad, which also started making me feel uncomfortable in this situation.

This got me to start looking around the van and then out the window to see where we were, hoping to be home soon. As mentioned, the seats had been stripped out of the back. The middle seats and the third row bench seats were completely gone. My mom had a similar van, so I assumed that's how this van was originally, too. The only thing in the back with me was the pup and a large plastic tub, and what looked like a blanket or a large towel. Then I looked out the window, and I saw nothing familiar. We were on the highway, and I had no idea for how long or where we were. That was when I started to freak out.

I asked them where we were or where we were going, and I didn't get a response. They had stopped arguing, but they had just gone silent. Being a kid, I didn't stop asking, so after a few attempts, I finally got a response in the form of Santa, yelling at me to shut up. Of course, this made me start crying. As they're arguing continued in the driving to what seemed like nowhere, at least to me, I started crying harder and harder.

I could tell that this was starting to get to the woman, so I stepped it up, and I started screaming while lying on my back and kicking the door of the van. I think that this honestly saved me. At some point, I could tell that the van was speeding up and, making sharp turns, because I could hear the tires screeching. Finally, it came to a hard stop, and as the woman screamed at Santa, he quickly got out, opened the sliding door, and yanked me out by my ankle, all while yelling at me to shut up and get out.

After quickly shoving me out of the way, he shouted a few choice words at me and was trying to get back into the van, as the lady was already starting to drive off again. I stood there for a few seconds and looked around, realizing that I had been dropped off at a gas station. I didn't recognize the area, and now I was alone, so I started crying again. Thankfully, there were people around that noticed what had just happened, and they approached me. It was a lady that came up to me and asked me if I was okay, and then they asked me who those people were. When I told them I didn't know, they grabbed my hand firmly, but just... and told me to follow them and to not leave their side.

This time felt different than the last, though. I actually felt safe with her, and I think it was because she actually had that motherly feeling to her. She took me into the gas station and asked them to call the police. Then she bought me a bottle of juice and a donut, which calmed me down quite a bit. There was a bench right outside that she sat on with me, as she asked me about myself. I remember feeling instantly relieved and safe in this situation, and by the end of it, I was being my happy self.

Shortly after, the police arrived and spoke to us. Then to my parents after that, I was never happier to see my parents at that point in time. It seemed like this took quite some time, of course, being young and bored, but we finally got home, and I was given quite a lecture again about strangers. This all in between a lot of hugs and kisses, and them telling me how much they loved me. I know that I got incredibly lucky in this situation, but in the end, it was still terrifying.

I didn't trust anybody that I didn't know from then on. Even when my parents introduced me to one of their friends or a distant relative that I didn't know, I was very hesitant to approach them alone or even talk to them. And Santa was definitely ruined for me. We didn't do Santa gifts from then on, and I still get a little anxiety when I see one in public. I have a young child of my own now,

and I refuse to let them go anywhere remotely by themselves. And I don't do the mall or store Santas with them. Part of me does feel bad that they have to miss out. out on that experience, but I just can't get past it. I do think about it on occasion, what their intentions were. It was the tub and blanket related. Where were they planning on taking me? It just freaks me out.

It doesn't help that as I got older, my parents told me that they ended up finding the van abandoned, but it had been stolen and gutted, which is why it looked the way that it did. However, they never found the people that took me. They could still be out there to this day, and I would have no idea if we went to the same coffee shop or gas station as them. But I guess to share one positive out of the experience, my parents did get us a puppy that same year. As a trucker, you can find yourself sleeping in some pretty weird places.

For the most part, I didn't have a problem staying in run-down motels or in my cab on the side of the road. I didn't scare easily, and my doors are always locked, but it's more of the unexplainable situations that don't sit right with me. One time, I was driving on a long stretch of desert highway in a state that I hadn't been to before. I've been doing this long enough, though, that I knew my bus. body and its limits, so not having a rest stop close by, I made the choice to go ahead and pull off near an exit to sleep for the night. I got parked, and I made my way to the cabin, and I laid there, ready to get some sleep. I am a pretty heavy sleeper, so it doesn't take long for me to crash.

However, even though I felt drained, it seemed to take some time for me to finally fall asleep. Then, it seemed just as soon as I drifted off, I was jolted awake. But I had no idea why. I thought it was one of those dreams when it feels like you're falling, so I just closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep. But this time, I started hearing strange noises. It started as a weird tapping that sounded like it was coming from the top of

of the cab. I wanted to dismiss it as something falling on it, like an acorn maybe, or maybe just a tree limb, but there were no trees on the side that I was on, and it was also too much of a pattern, like a subtle tap, tap, tap. This put me on guard, and I immediately started paying more attention to the sounds. As I laid there, I knew. noticed the tapping sound was getting fainter and fainter, like it was going towards the back of the truck. When I could no longer hear the sound, I slowly sat up, and without looking out the windows, I made sure the doors were locked.

I then went back to laying down with my eyes closed, and just continued listening. There were no other humans around. I would have heard a car pull up or stop. I would have heard someone walking up to my truck, and there was none of that. The sounds all started with the tapping on my roof. I'm part Native American, and I was told many stories of skinwalkers and other similar types about spirits by my grandparents and parents. And I was also told what to do if I ever came across one. So this immediately put me in fight or flight mode,

and there was no way that I was stupid enough to try to fight it. I laid there, saying a native prayer that my grandmother had taught me, and continued to listen to find the right time to go. I started hearing what sounded like something running along the side of the trailer, like someone was running their hand across it, and then it got closer to the windows as I heard the tag, on the glass, assuring that I didn't look at it, and I waited for it to leave. While it was tapping, I swear that I could hear a woman's voice softly saying,

Hello? As I laid there, I heard it go around to the other side of the truck, while the tapping got louder and almost more violent. Then, it stopped. It was completely still. I couldn't even hear the wind. I slowly got up, and, just in case, I made sure to not look out the windows. It was a struggle, but I even crawled over to get into the driver's seat instead of getting out and back into the driver's side door.

Then, as I started the truck, there was a loud thud from the top of my truck. It almost sounded like something had fallen on top of it. I tried to take off as fast as I could with the big. gas semi, and I drove down that deserted, seemingly empty road while barely looking out the window, praying that it didn't try to stop me. I was thankful to never see it, and especially not in front of me, but it didn't hesitate to tap on my driver's side window again while I was driving. I remembered my grandfather telling me to never look at it, never give it the attention, which is also why I've debated submitting this,

so I never looked over at it. I continued my prayer again and drove until I saw the sunrise. I don't even remember when it finally went away, but after some time, I came across a little truck stop and pulled over. There were other people around, so all I could hear was the sound of people talking, walking, doors closing, and engine. but I didn't hear or feel anything inhuman.

I decided that I was safe to finally get some sleep, and that's exactly what I did. I was impressed with myself for staying awake and keeping my eyes on the road, but I guess that's also part of the fighting to live side of things. I didn't experience anything else on that trip, and thankfully I didn't have to take that road back. I also checked my truck and trailer when I arrived, and there wasn't a scratch or dent on top of it. Skinwalkers are not something that anyone should seek out. You're better off just listening to stories and leaving it there. Because I promise you, nothing good will come of it. This happened to me and my friend when we were around 16.

We would always hang out or stay at each other's houses, to the point that my parents joked about making up my big brother's old room as her own. It was just me and my parents since my older brother had moved out, so we tended to hang out there more, but we did stay at her place quite a bit too. The only problem was that she didn't get along with her mom very well, so when she would come home from work and be in a bad mood, or when she just wanted to get away from her, We would walk around the neighborhood or head over to the park that was over a few blocks.

It was pretty old. The playground was all metal and rusted with paint chipping away. Thinking back, I'm surprised we never got cut on any of it. Thank God for tetanus shots, though. Am I right? Anyways, the playground was pretty normal with the part you can walk up or climb up. A few slides and the bars you can swing across. There was also the swing set that had two normal swings

And one of those baby seat swings And then the merry-go-round that was wobbly and squeaked It was perfect for two teenagers to just get away Especially since people didn't dare take their little kids there anymore We liked to do stupid things on the swings Or just lay on our backs on the merry-go-round while we talked It was nice and peaceful, and it gave us a sense of privacy that we needed. I also wanted to mention another place that we would go when we weren't going to the park.

Typically, when we didn't want to walk that far, or if it was too hot or too cold, and that was her neighbor's house, or rather the guy that was about two houses down. We'll call him Jack. Jack was a middle-eastern. quiet guy that lived alone with his dog. He kept to himself as far as I could tell, but was always very nice to us. He let my friend and I watch his dog and house sit when he was going to be gone for a few days, and he always said we were welcomed to anything in his home,

food, soda, watching movies or things like that. It was really cool because he had a snow cone maker, So when we wanted to go somewhere that her mom wouldn't be able to find us, we would go over there, make snow cones, and watch TV. He even invited us over when we were walking by, and he offered us stuff. I remember one time we were walking, and he had just gotten home. He waved us over to help him bring some things inside to which we helped, and then he showed us that he had just bought a SNess.

So he asked if we wanted to play, and we went in and played some games, and he actually ordered pizza for us. It was a lot of fun, and I imagined we were like adults with the roommate, just chilling. Jack was actually cool, too. He never gave off any weird vibes, and actually seemed to keep his distance, too, which was appreciated. We talked to him like we were friends, telling him. how school was going, gossip that we knew, people we liked, and those that we couldn't stand. So those were our two getaway spots that we took advantage of often. One weekend, we wanted to stay the night together, but she wasn't allowed to go to anyone's

house, so I had to stay over at her place. No big deal. I gathered my necessities and my mom dropped me off over there. We chilled for a while in her breakfast. brother's room while he played games, but when he left to go to his girlfriend's house, he would lock the door and wouldn't let us in there. So we went back to her room and just listened to music while we were drawing. It wasn't long after that, though, that her mom got home from work and immediately ruined the mood. She was just flat out mean to Anna. It was usually just yelling at her, but every once in a while, I would see her smack her in the mouth

or grab her by the hair to take her into the kitchen or something to do something. I know it was stupid, looking back on it now, but I never told my parents. I mentioned that she was mean, like when she yelled at her, but I never mentioned her ever being physically abusive to her. Part of that was because Anna asked me not to tell anyone either.

What I didn't understand, though, was that she was never like that to her brother. She was always kind to him and gave him anything he asked for. He seemed like he understood and felt bad for the situation, too, which is why he always asked us if we wanted to hang out in his room while he was there, but still never let us in when he wasn't home. Anyways, we knew she was home because she had slammed the door shut. Shortly after, she hollered for Anna to help her with something. I sat in the room waiting for her to come back, and when she did, she looked pretty annoyed.

She told me that she wanted her to do something and was complaining about it, so I volunteered to help to get it done quicker. I don't remember what it was exactly, but it was something pretty stupid and mundane, like she wanted her to clean the windows or something like that. When she was mad, she always gave some random chore to do, and as she did it, she would nag and make comments about how she was always doing it wrong. So after we got started and she got started on her nagging, Anna got mad and told her that she was done.

They started arguing a bit, and when she went in to smack her, she managed to duck to get out of the way, so her mom yelled at us to leave. We couldn't go to my house, but yet she still wanted us out. So we grabbed a few things like our little speaker and MP3 player and a flashlight, and walked out. It was starting to get dark, so we decided to walk down to the park for a few hours to cool off. We got there, and we swung for a bit. Anna cried and practically cursed her mom for a few, and then we got back into high spirits talking about other things. Thankfully, it wasn't long before we were goofing off on the merry-go-round and laughing again.

As mentioned, it was uncommon for us to run into other people there, especially at night. So when we saw a car pull up and just sit there for a while, we were suspicious. Anna thought it was probably someone that had called the cops since we were being loud. So when we started getting up and gathering our stuff, when we heard someone get out of the car and heard a familiar voice. As he approached, we noticed that it was Jack. He greeted us, we did the same, immediately feeling at ease again. He sat next to us and asked us what we were doing out here,

Anna said we were just chilling waiting for her mom to leave or to go back to bed to go back home. As we talked for a while with him, joking around, something was brought up about a guy that I liked. When that was mentioned, Jack made a pouty face and said something about, huh, don't tell me you have your eyes set on someone else now. We both chuckled and Anna mentioned the guy a little more, and Jack seemed like he was trying to one up everything that she said.

She mentioned that he had longer hair, and Jack said, I'd grow mine out for you. She said he had his permit, and then he said, I already have my own car, things like that. Then she mentioned that he had his lip pierced, and Jack said, I have a piercing, too. We both had spent enough time around him to know that he did not. So, being the naive girls that we were, we both kind of started giggling and said, No, you don't.

and he said, Of course I do. You girls just can't see it from where you are. Again, not thinking much of it, Anna asked where. He then got this grin that actually made me feel uncomfortable and said, well, I'd have to take my pants off. And then he winked at us. I could tell Anna was a bit uncomfortable too,

but she just kind of laughed and said, Ew, no thanks. He then laughed, and as we sat there awkwardly silent for a few moments, he finally broke the silence, saying, You know, I always thought you girls were too cute for your age, like, dangerously so. This grown man really just said this to us. We just sat there not knowing what to say or how to react.

Thankfully, he stood up and said, I should get going. but if we wanted to come back to his place for some fun, we were always welcome, and then headed back to his car. Once we heard the car door shut, I turned to Anna and asked what the hell that was. Jack was never like that before,

and now, I didn't think I would ever feel comfortable around him. We sat there for a while, waiting for him to leave as we were nervous to even walk past him. It was probably 15 minutes or so, and he was still sitting there, lights off, so we decided to leave and made a plan in case he tried anything else. Unfortunately, the park was fenced in, so there was only one way to really enter and exit, unless you wanted to climb the fence. And we weren't trying to make it look obvious that we were avoiding him.

So, as we started walking by the fence, the parking lot, we walked along the edge and looked over to see him staring right at us. He didn't move, he didn't smile or wave, he just stared. We finally got out of there and headed right back to her place. Thankfully her mom was already passed out, so we snuck back into her room and again tried to relax and talk about what the hell had just happened. Unfortunately, that would not be the end of it, though. It was either the next day or the day after, while I was over at her place,

Anna's mom had come into the room yelling about Jack and how we weren't allowed to go over there anymore. At that point, we had no intentions of ever talking to him again, but we were curious and asked why. She said someone had called the cops due to suspicious people in the park screaming and they saw a car there for several hours with their lights off. When the cops showed up, they found Jack in his car, pants down, with a picture of us that Anna had given him some time ago.

It was one of the pictures that we took for our yearbook. She yelled at us saying that was stupid of us and that we weren't allowed to even go to the park alone either. I did tell my parents too, which led to us having to explain. why we even went there at night alone in the first place. They already knew about Jack as well, and had even met him and didn't really think much of it. They also agreed, though, and they didn't want us there alone anymore.

Thinking nothing good was going to come from it anyways, which we didn't hesitate. Anna wanted to be here more anyways. We never saw Jack again after that, but we did learn when we were older by looking him up that he had gone to jail a few times for similar crimes so we unfortunately weren't the only ones targeted last I checked though he was locked up for a few years so I hope that we

nor any other girl has to ever run into that creep again I have a story or maybe a set of smaller stories that happened while I was a child. It was something that was recently brought up again between some family members, and while I try my best not to let it get to me, some days it's not so easy.

This may be submitted anonymously, but I think overall, I will feel better at least talking about it. Also, I wanted to warn that this happened to me when I was quite young, like up to the age of five or six, I think, so some of it was from my own memory.

But there were some missing pieces that have been added by family to help complete the picture for me. My mom was definitely a troubled kid. But I don't think anyone could really answer the why part. She had a good childhood based on everything I've heard from my grandparents and aunts and uncles.

But nonetheless, I was the result. result of one of her mistakes. She seemed to still be optimistic about my arrival, of course, for all of the wrong reasons. She at first was going to give me up for adoption, something my grandparents even suggested to her, hoping that they could bring her back home and help her turn her life around. But she wanted to keep me and my grandparents supported her and agreed to help her where they could. I wasn't their first grandkid, but they were always loving to us all. As my mom said to my aunt and others in passing, her plans were to use me, basically, as both payback,

by getting child support from my father, as well as any other financial support that she could get. She bragged about how much money she made just from having a kid to some of her siblings. She never got child support, however, because she couldn't even prove who my father was, and she never did. Also, she didn't stop drinking or using while she was pregnant, and my birth defects and fetal alcohol syndrome proves that. Of course, nothing was done by the state, because she claimed it must have been an early pregnancy because she swore she stopped drinking after finding out. after I was born, some of my earliest memories of her weren't anything spectacular either. I had a small room with toys, most of which came from my grandparents or aunt, and I typically stayed in there by either force or because my mother just demanded it.

I remember some nights being hungry, as I hadn't eaten or even just not feeling well, and I would ask my mom for help. She would get pretty angry with me, yelling at me to go back to my room, and that's what I would do. But I was still a child. I would throw tantrums if I was hungry enough, and then she would come storming into my room with something to eat. Or if it was because I wasn't feeling well, she would have some kind of liquid for me to take or a pill. I was still too young to understand you had to swallow it, so I would always chew it, and would cry because it tasted so awful.

But shortly after she would bring me something, I would feel incredibly tired and typically would lay down wherever I was in my room, whether that was on my bed, the floor, or with my toys. And then, when I would wake up, I would always become violently ill. I remember thinking for a long time as I grew up that I must have had something seriously wrong with me

since I would fall asleep immediately after eating and wake up sicker than I was before. There were even times where she would tell me that she had to do something very important and demanded that I stay in my room no matter what. I remember one thing she used to say. If there's a fire, you best figure out how to open that window. It was her way of saying that I was not allowed to open the door. I never thought about it, but now thinking pack on it, At my age and size, I would have never been able to open one of those windows.

When I wasn't being nearly locked in my room, I would be dropped off at my grandparent's house, walking down the sidewalk as my mom left the driveway. Their place, however, was much different from my home. They had three meals a day, sometimes even snacks. And when I asked for seconds, they would tease me about being too skinny. and would load my plate up with huge helpings. They had a spare bedroom with a chest full of different toys, and a dresser full of kids' clothes.

I always thought of it like a shopping spree, as they always had stuff in there that I hadn't seen before, so I would wear something new and find something new to play with. They welcomed me to watch TV with them in the living room, and even played games with me. I was always so torn because, I never wanted to leave my grandparents, but when my mom would come back to get me, and if I made a fuss about leaving, she would immediately send me to my room telling me not to come out again. Then, she would come in with a pill for me to take, even if I didn't say that I didn't feel good.

But she was still my mother, so I trusted her, so I took it. And then I would soon drift off. So that was my life as a young child, and something that I just found normal as I knew nothing else. But that all changed one day after my mom took us to meet some guy, and after a brief conversation, we went back home. My mom again demanded that I not leave my bedroom, until she told me that I could, and I would obey. However, as I played with my toys, I had the urge to use the restroom. I called out for my mom, and when she didn't answer, I opened the door and yelled for her again, saying that I needed to use the bathroom. Again, no response, so I told myself that I would use the restroom quickly and then just return to my room.

As I walked out of my room, I looked down the hall to the living room and saw her slumped over on the couch. like she was sleeping. So I followed through with my plan. I then went back to my bedroom, and shortly after, went to sleep on my own that night. The next morning I woke up and repeated my plan from the night before. The second time, she was still on the couch, but she was more so laying down rather than sitting up like she had been. I went back to my room and played for a while, until I could no longer ignore the sound coming from my stomach. Again, my mom didn't respond to me calling for her, so I decided to just try and get something to eat for myself.

I went to the kitchen, and I found a box of graham crackers that were already open. I grabbed some of those and went back to my bedroom. I think I stayed there until and unless I needed the bathroom. I think I even napped a few times not having anything else to do. I then remember getting hungry again. so I went to grab more crackers and went back to my room, pretending that I was camping since I was up so late. I just remember it being dark.

Shortly after, I again fell asleep. I woke up the next day repeating the same process, but I remembered thinking it was weird that my mom had not been up and gone to my room all the day prior, and curiosity got the best of me. This time, I walked straight to the living room and can still remember the stench. She'd gotten sick, too, all over the couch and herself.

I could tell that she was still breathing, not that I could do much about it being a young child, but I wanted to do something different. So at the risk of her waking up and yelling at me, I grabbed the box of crackers and sat on the floor, turning on the TV. I was hoping that she would wake up before. then because I was going to be out of crackers. I sat there most to the day watching TV, occasionally going to my room until I heard someone trying the front door.

I knew I was told to never unlock or answer it, so instead I called up on the couch with my mom hoping they would go away. But not only did they not go away, they were able to open the door. To my pleasant surprise, it was my Aunt Lisa. I remember her face when she walked in and immediately saw my mom and I. It honestly scared me. I jumped up and all I could think to say was sorry.

She waved me over and hugged me and looked me all over asking if I was okay and I said I was, but also mentioned that I was really hungry. She asked me to go to my room to get some clothes. and toys together, as I was going to stay at Graham and Gramps for a while, which made me happy, so I did what she asked. The next thing I know, my aunt came to my room, and she looked really sad, and she started putting my clothes and toys that I picked out in a plastic bag. Then she carried me out the door.

I remember looking back at my mom one last time, and I saw her now sitting up on the couch, but her head was still slumped over and her hair was matted with stuff in it. That was the last time that I saw her. My aunt took me to McDonald's before taking me to my grandparents, and I just remember being really happy to be there. My grandma was waiting on the porch for me, and after getting me settled in the living room with my food and cartoons, they all went to talk in the other room.

After a few days with my grandparents, I ended up going home with my aunt and uncle, and I lived with them until I was 19. She became what I knew as my mother. I called her by her name, Lisa, but for a while when I had friends around, I just called her mom to make it less confusing and to not have to explain it to them. When my aunt and uncle had a kid of their own, they even became like a little brother. to me that I adored and we just became a loving and happy family it wasn't until I was much older that I learned more about what happened to me all those years ago you see as a child and seeing my mom the way she was I thought she was just sick but the truth as you may have already figured out was that she was an addict and when she was having withdraws or in between me being around and needing the bare minimum to stay alive annoyed her, and it got in the way. So she fed me pills,

and God knows what else to keep me quiet or mostly unconscious. When I went to the doctors as a kid, I remember them doing a lot of tests, and they even took some of my hair. My aunt confided in me years later that that was one of the reasons that she won custody, of me. She checked that my mom was still alive and then called the cops as we left. I appreciated her honesty when she told me that she didn't care if she lived or died, based on how she was

treating me. As of today, I have not heard from my mom's sense. She tried to get custody back when I was in grade school, but not only did she constantly fail to show up to any of the hearings or complete any of the paperwork. She also never completed the rehab, which was a requirement. After that, she seemingly just disappeared from our lives. She even stopped calling anyone for birthdays and holidays, and to be honest, I'm okay with that. I'm okay if she is never a part of my life again. She could have easily killed me, pumping me full of whatever drugs she

had, not to mention the different people that she brought around. I'm just incredibly thankful that I had other family members that stepped up when she obviously couldn't. And that's all that matters to me. I know that there are kids out there that aren't as lucky as I was.