Just Creepy: Scary Stories - Scary DEEP WOODS Horror Stories | True Scary Forest Stories For A Rainy Night

Episode Date: November 25, 2023

Try Magic Mind today and go to ► https://www.magicmind.com/justcreepy And get up to 50% off your Magic Mind subscription for the next 10 days with my code: JUSTCREEPY20 These are 5 Scary DEEP WOODS Horror Stories | True Scary Forest Stories For A Rainy Night Linktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepy StoryCredits: ►https://www.reddit.com/user/thegeneralg/ Timestamps: 00:00 Into 00:00:43 Story 1 00:25:01 Story 2 00:31:22 Story 3 00:37:35 Story 4 00:42:16 Story 5 Business inquiries: ►[e-mail] #scarystories #horrorstories #deepwoods #forest #justcreepy 💀As always, thanks for watching! 💀

For tonight's episode, we are diving into the Deep Woods for some scary encounters sent in from viewers like you. Please consider subscribing if you are new and turn on channel notifications if you like scary stories. I appreciate your support. I'll introduce you to Magic Mind a bit later in the episode. It's this awesome drink that makes you more productive. Now let's dive into some scary Deep Woods horror stories. All. Pay off your home.

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and save up to 20% to get the stay you expected. When you want savings, not surprises. It matters where you stay. Hilton, for the stay. I've always loved my job as a land. landscaper or lawn care specialist. I make my own hours, get to work outdoors, and best of all, I get to embrace my passion. I view lawn care as much more of an art form like architecture, because no two trees, lawns, hedges, or ponds are the same. When you're a landscaper, you basically

take the nature equivalent of raw material and crafted into something unique. That's why I view it more like an art form than just cutting the grass. And there is no telling what you may encounter while working. I thought I knew that until my last job. By far the busiest times of year in this line of work are spring and fall. Spring, because after winter the grass and plants are finally starting to bloom and need tons of attention, especially because of the frequent rain and fall, because it's the final bit of time to keep an eye on things before the months-long cold of winter makes my job irrelevant. I'm usually pretty busy in the summer, depending on the weather, because I either have to work hard to make sure grass on lawns doesn't dry out in the heat,

or there is no shortage of lawns to mow if it's a rainy summer. But fall also means that in addition to the usual landscaping tasks, there are leaves to rake, which was just fine with me. I've always loved raking leaves as I find it calming, and the vivid colors on the trees give you plenty to look at while you're working. Most of my clients are long-time ones, so much so that we can communicate in what is essentially shorthand. But of all my customers, my favorite land to work belongs to Mr. and Mrs. Allen.

They have a large stone house with double doors and blue shutters, and the property is set on seven acres with a solid blend of all kinds of trees. Lots of pine trees and plenty of beautiful maple and other trees that shed their leaves come fall. And I was due there for a job on a lovely October afternoon. It was a short drive there, and on the way I passed numerous storefronts with orange lights or cobwebs in the windows before I arrived at the Allen's neighborhood. It's filled with people who are actually pretty cool and friendly. That's one reason the neighborhood is one of the most prize places to go trick-or-treating around here. All the houses are spaced pretty close together. There's plenty of

sidewalks, and the homeowners get really into the holiday spirit. All down the street were houses decorated in their own unique ways. One was covered with cobwebs and a giant spider, while others were filled with a cemetery, an open coffin, and a collection of monsters. Mr. and Mrs. Allen kept it simple with plenty of orange lights, pumpkins, and some dried cornstalks arranged around the garage. Once I parked in the driveway, I got out of my truck, got everything ready, and got started on my job. First, I mowed the front lawn. There is nothing like the smell of freshly cut grass on a refreshing fall morning, and when that was done, it was time for me to take care of the leaves. It was early October, and the trees in the backyard were only beginning

to shed their leaves, so raking them all out from under the trees where the mower couldn't get them only took about half an hour, and all of them could fit into a small pile. The Allen's always liked me to mulch their leaves, which works for me. So I got the mower ready, and methodically went about turning the leaves in the backyard into tiny piles that wouldn't cover the grass. When I was done, the smell of leaves coated the air. Also on the schedule today was for me to plant some mums, which was always a big request for me once fall arrived. When that was all said and done, I went home and had a grilled cheese sandwich and some soup for lunch. Several days later, I had an appointment with the Sullivan family, who lived next door to the Allens. So I went

right on schedule and took care of their lawn. They generally had less trees in their backyard than the Allen house, but they were bigger, and their leaves were generally falling up. a faster rate. There was a bit of fog that morning that hung thickly in the air, and when I arrived I could see the grass and the leaves scattered on it were soaked with dew. The Sullivan's liked me to use a leaf blower and bag up their leaves, so that task quickly took up two hours. As I worked, I could see the one tree that was technically on the Allen property, but would occasionally drop leaves on the Sullivan property. Thankfully, it wasn't a big deal. The two families got along great, and had been friendly for decades.

I've met far too many families where a leaf falling on their property from a tree that wasn't theirs was a huge problem. Farther down in the yard, Mr. Sullivan was reading a book by his fire ring, which had a fire lit in it and was crackling along in the gentle breeze. The smell from it casually billowed my way and made the fall air with the crisp breeze and earthy smell of leaves that much more invigorating. a pleasant atmosphere to finish my work in. The next day was one of those rainy October days where you can feel that fall has arrived. It was gray and rainy all day, and everywhere I drove,

you could see evidence that the steady rain had caused numerous trees everywhere to shed leaves that had thus far managed to stay on the branches. Although I spent the day indoors watching scary movie marathons, I was mentally gearing up for the inevitable post-rainstorm calls that would arrive as soon as things dried up. Sure enough, the very next day, the calls came in to repair one thing or another, and out I went to tidy things up. No matter how old I get, it never ceases to amaze me the difference just a few days can make for how fall can look and feel. The color creeping into the trees was much more noticeable, with a particularly vivid red making itself known on a tree in the Allen yard that I could spot when I drove past it. Later that week, there was a nasty

storm with intense rain and wind that caused numerous trees to fall, which meant I was constantly being called out to help get rid of tree limbs that had been snapped off in the wind, or help cut up trees that had broken in half or been uprooted. One of the many trees damaged by the wind was one of the massive ones in the Sullivan's yard. Once I arrived, I took out the necessary equipment and carefully went to work on the fallen tree limb. It was a massive branch, but steadily, the fallen limb became a pile of firewood as I worked under the bright blue sky. I worked until the sun started to dip behind the orange and red foliage. As I finished up, the sun was slowly descending, and the mellow autumn light was peeking out

from the gaps in the trees, a sight I never get tired of. I had just finished up with one section and was heading to the other side of the yard to get the last bit of tree that had fallen. The final bit of fallen tree was right in the middle of the yard, where the surface was flat. As I stepped on it, I could tell how soft and wet the ground still was. But as I took another step, I felt something snap, and before I knew what was happening, I was falling through the earth. Moments later, pain shot through my body as I landed on rocky ground. I waited for a moment before getting up.

Fortunately, I always keep a tool belt filled with tools on me whenever I work, so I quickly removed a flashlight and switched it on. Thankfully, it worked. I checked my phone, which I checked my phone, which I was. was fine, but there was no service down here, but I was able to shine my flashlight up and see the hole I had fallen through. Thanks to the rain, the soil had thinned out and revealed that right under that section of the Sullivan's yard was the entrance to a tunnel that someone had placed a board over. No doubt all the years of rain and other types of weather had worn it down, so that by the time of

the recent heavy rain it had been ready to crack when I stepped right on it. Oh well, nothing I could do about it now. The Sullivan's were out for the evening, which meant I had no reason to stick around and try to get their attention, especially since there was no way for me to climb out of the way I'd fallen in. So that meant I had to follow the small tunnel I found myself in. It was big enough for me to stand in, and in reasonably good condition, no signs of a cave in. I could feel how the chill had soaked into the earth as I kept walking. There was no telling where I was going or what I would find. All I could do to get out was keep going forward. Several minutes later, the tunnel opened into a cavern, and I realized I was in an abandoned mine. The tools and cart left

behind were the giveaway. It wasn't exactly a surprise. I've lived in Pennsylvania my whole life, and there are old mines everywhere, and I've been in several of them before. So, I wasn't exactly shocked or afraid as I followed it along. After the work on the Sullivan yard and the amount of walking I'd done to get this far, I could feel how my body was soaked with sweat under my jacket, but the air here wasn't as chilly as it was above ground, so that helped cool me down, at least somewhat. Eventually the tunnel I was walking in narrowed a bit, and the intense darkness of the mine began to fade. Then the tunnel got lighter and lighter, until I was facing a small ladder built into the cavern wall that went up, and beyond that, there was light coming from

somewhere above. I switched off my flashlight and carefully climbed the old wooden steps, silently hoping they wouldn't give. They held just fine, and when I pulled myself up the last step, I found myself facing a small opening in the rock wall that I could just barely fit through. That was where the light had been coming from. I took a deep breath and carefully stepped through it. As I did, I could smell the fresh air and relief flooded through my body. But that was immediately followed by confusion. On the other side of the opening in the rock wall was a wide stretch of open space that was surrounded by trees. From the outside, the rock wall looked like a small remnant of a quarry built into the earth. But the open space wasn't exactly open because it was filled with

RVs. But they were not all of a similar type, like you would expect in a standard storage space. Far from it, as it seemed like every possible model or design was here. Giant RVs and tiny ones, ones that looked older than I was, ones that looked brand new, ones that you could see at any campground, and ones you never saw aside from an old vintage family home movies. I slowly started walking through the rows of vehicles. They seemed to go on forever, and it wasn't long before I had the sensation that I was lost in some kind of endless labyrinth. It was nighttime by now, and my small flashlight was the only source of light. I was walking on cement, which meant that there were no footprints I could follow. But the upside was that I didn't have to worry about leaving them either.

As I kept walking on the cement, I remembered that there used to be a factory somewhere around here, and it was demolished years ago. I guess the floor was all that was left. Seeing all the RVs sitting there, silent and abandoned, was downright creepy, especially because this wasn't some brightly lit warehouse. This was outside in the dark, and the faint light from my flashlight dancing over the various vehicles gathered here made it all the more unnerving. There was something seriously not right about all this. For starters, it wasn't like this was an actual storage space for a business that sold them. I had heard of graveyards for ships, to say nothing of junkyards, but not RVs. And it wasn't like all these RVs were situated in a public space where anyone could come and look.

No, these were hidden away in a place people didn't come looking, and I had no doubt it was for a reason. For a fleeting moment, I thought that maybe this was part of some haunted attraction for the Halloween season. But I know all the haunted houses around and there was nothing like this. Plus, there were no Halloween decorations around, and these giant luxury RVs were not the type to be used in a haunted house. So the only idea left was that something was up here, and it wasn't good. Especially because, as I took a closer look at all the RVs assembled here, it was clear that for all their differences, they had something in common. they had all sustained some kind of small damage.

One vintage RV had a broken front window, while I saw a smashed-in side door on one of the giant expensive RVs, and the list went on and on. The sight of a windshield on a relatively new one that had been completely destroyed sent a particular chill up my spine. If all these RVs had sustained damage, then the logical thing that should have happened was for them to be repaired and returned. None of the damage I could see made them uninhabitable. as someone who maintains people's property as his job, none of this seemed right.

I slowly walked on, trying to get my bearings. The space seemed endless, and I carefully wandered along, looking at everything until I passed an average modern RV that I've seen plenty of my friends use on vacation. As I passed the door, I shined my flashlight, and the beam of light highlighted that something was on the door's window. I paused for a closer look and saw that it looked like a handprint, and it was made by what looked just like blood. The sight made my stomach sick with fear.

Now, there was no doubt I needed to get out of here, and fast. Almost as if on cue, I heard a sound from far off in the distance, and from all the time spent in nature, I could tell it was a car driving on gravel. Ignoring the fear gripping my stomach, I looked at my surroundings. Some of these RVs, superficial dents aside, were beyond well-built. So well-built that someone stuck inside would not be able to, to get out easily if the door was blocked, and I had plenty of small landscaping tools still on my belt that I could easily jam a door handle if I was able to trick whoever was out there inside the RV.

So I took a deep breath, switched off my flashlight, and put together a plan. I had several minutes, but not much more. Whoever was out there would most likely go up and down the rows of RVs, looking for anything out of place. Naturally, an open door would signal that something was amiss and should be checked. Once the person driving was well inside the RV, I could slam the door shut and jam it, so there would be no getting out. It was as good a plan as any, and I had to act fast. Thankfully it wasn't hard to decide on an RV. One of the giant expensive luxury vehicles was the way to go. But even in the dim light, the vehicle's interior was beyond impressive when I briefly checked it. No doubt no expense had been spared from the

interior's comfort to the basic strength of the vehicle, which included windows, all of which were in perfect condition without a single scratch on them. The RV also had the perfect main door with a metal handle similar to a refrigerator. If I were to put my small trowel from my belt inside the handle's space when the door was closed, it would jam the door perfectly, and it was the only door in and out of the vehicle. No normal doors to the front or passenger seat. I also was beyond thankful that this RV, like several on display, were built with plenty of space for me to crawl under and wait. So once I had carefully opened the door to lure in whoever was out here with me, I removed the small trowel from my belt and crawled under the middle of the RV as quietly as

possible and waited. All those years crawling around bushes and hedges would definitely come in handy now as I ducked under the bumper and stared up at the RV. I had barely gotten in place when I heard the tires on gravel stop. Then all was quiet while I was alone with my thoughts. The silence in the space was so thick it was unpleasant, and I felt like my heart was thudding painfully loud as I tried to listen. After what felt like an hour, I heard it, the sound of quiet footsteps coming my way. I swallowed thickly as I listened and got ready to act as soon as it was time. The footsteps quietly shuffled around before they arrived at the RV I was hidden under. As the footsteps got closer, I could tell whoever they belonged to was carrying a flashlight as well,

as the beam slowly bobbed along to remind me someone was getting closer until the beam was right beside me. I couldn't see who the footsteps belonged to, or make out any details aside from some basic black leather boots. But as they moved one step closer, I could faintly see the figures outline in the reflection from one of the RV's tire rim. and I could see they were wearing a belt with a large knife on it. My throat clenched as I stared at them from no more than a few feet away. The stranger was painfully close, as I laid there and silently willed whoever was out there to just take the few steps inside the RV. And moments later, the adrenaline in my body kicked up a notch as the boots walked the few

steps forward into the open RV. I could feel the RV moving slightly under the weight of its new occupant as the stranger climbed aboard, stepped inside, and slowly began to look around. Despite the fear churning in my stomach, I did feel better that the stranger didn't immediately summon a friend of his, who had driven here with him when he saw the open RV door. That meant this was the only other person here. So once the figure slowly started walking towards the bathroom and master bedroom in the back of the RV, that was time for me to climb out and spring into action, with my heart pounding harder than ever before in my life, I crept out from under the RV, took the trowel in hand,

and gently grabbed the door handle while listening carefully. Whoever was in there had no idea I was out there, as I could feel the weight of footsteps in the back bedroom. So I carefully closed the door, which closed with a quiet click before I immediately jammed the trowel in the handle and made sure it was stuck. It was. The stranger inside had no idea what happened, but it didn't take whoever was inside long to realize something had happened, because moments later, footsteps were hastily walking towards the door, before there was weight pushing on it from the other side. It didn't give an inch, and some faint relief flooded through my body. I crept quietly away as whoever was trapped inside tried to apply more pressure to the door, and nothing changed.

As I put more distance between the RV and myself, I thought I could hear a muffled yell from inside, but that was it. I didn't stop walking. and before long I had reached the other side of the open space and found myself facing a wall of trees. There was still no sign that whoever was stuck in the RV had managed to make any progress at all. With that hopeful thought, I took several more steps and finally reached the part of the woods that was well on the other side from where I had climbed out of the abandoned mine. When I finally walked through the trees and was lost in them moments later, I finally felt somewhat better, but I kept my flashlight off to avoid being detected,

and I carefully crept along, listening carefully for any sound of movement or voices. As I continued along walking in the trees, I heard a second vehicle roaring up from the other side of the area. I immediately ducked behind a tree and turned to watch. Someone had driven into the area via a truck, and the driver wasted no time getting out and racing into the vast collection of RVs, their shoes echoing loudly on the hard floor. I had a pretty good idea what would happen next. And I was right, because although I couldn't see anything yet, I could hear the RV door being yanked open before it was slammed shut. Then when both people walked quickly back towards the truck, which still had its headlights on, I could see, and I got a

good look at the person who unknowingly walked right past me. He was a tall guy, muscular, and if I had to guess, I'd say mid-30s. His associate fit the same description. What happened? One of them asked the other. I don't know. I went inside to see what made the door open, and before I knew it, it was sealed shut, and I couldn't get out, just like I told you. Well, it was sealed shut with this. I could faintly see him holding up my trowel that was available at any store for a few bucks, and there's no telling who's responsible for it and where they are. We'll just have to take it from here. Right. Then I watched as they both got in the truck and roared out of there in the opposite direction from me. I let out a deep breath before I kept walking. I knew I would eventually reach a road,

but every step was tinged with nerves, as I half expected someone lurking behind a tree to reach out and attack me. But after about two hours, I managed to reach a road without incident, and when I saw it, I finally had reception to call for help. I immediately told the police what I'd seen, and they dispatched someone to find me while the dispatcher stayed on the line with me. and I'd never been more relieved in my life than when I saw the flashing lights of the police car coming towards me. I described the general direction I had come from, but it didn't take long for the cops to find the place. Because after I left, someone had set fire to all the RVs, and before long, everything there was burning intensely, and the smoke was visible for miles. They had to bring in a massive team of firefighters to calm the blaze down, and they were able to get the fire under control,

in time for the cops to find out that all the RVs that hadn't been totally burned were all listed as missing, along with their owners. The cases involved spanned many years and every region of the country. After some time, the cops were able to use some of what was found at the RV collection to aid in solving some missing persons cases, but there was never any lead on who was responsible for it. Nor did they ever figure out what the specific motivation was. As for me, I'll always be extra careful where I step while on a landscaping job from now on. The Sullivan's felt horrible when they heard what happened and gave me a huge bonus for my work that day. They were even gracious enough to invite me over for when they gave out Halloween candy. Since they stuck to sitting out on the front porch with some hot apple cider, I happily accepted. How many discounts does USAA auto insurance offer?

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for a more natural vibe. At only $12, it's great for affordable touchups on the go. Get this new. You must have concealer at Sephora or at Sephora.com today. Before we go to the next scary story, I just wanted to mention I stumbled upon a little productivity shot that has improved my mornings dramatically. Being a caffeine enthusiast, I used to consume an excessive amount of energy drinks and coffee,

anything with caffeine to fuel my day. However, I found solace in this new addition to my routine that I can carry with me anywhere. It has become my go-to source for a quick energy boost, and I take a very good source. it religiously because of its convenience. Surprisingly, it tastes quite good, and it has substantially reduced my caffeine cravings since I started incorporating Magic Mind into my daily ritual. It's become my steadfast companion, something I can't imagine my mornings without. My favorite aspect of it is the mental clarity and focus it provides. I've noticed a significant decrease in stress and anxiety to calm my ADHD, improve sleep quality, and even better memory retention. What sets magic mind apart

is its best all-natural ingredients, meticulously sourced from top-notch suppliers. It's sugar-free, nut-free, vegan, keto, and paleo-friendly, making it suitable for various dietary preferences. But the real gem in this shot is the organic cortisps mushrooms, not the ones you'd find in a video game or show like the last of us, but a potent adaptogen that reduces inflammation, fortifies the immune system, and bolsters energy levels and physical endurance. How does it work its magic? By amping up the production of ATP and your mitochondria, you know the powerhouse of the cell. I love sharing Magic Mind with my friends. We're all coffee addicts, and this has helped us cut back. Join me and countless others in the Just Creepy Squad today. Go to www.magmigmind.com

Just Creepy. You can also use my discount code Just Creepy 20 to get up to 56% off your first subscription or 20% off your first one-time purchase. Again, go to magicmind.com forward slash just creepy, or use my discount code just creepy 20 to get up to 56% off your first subscription for the next 10 days with my code just creepy 20. After high school, I found myself adrift, uncertain about my future. With no clear direction, I made a decision that would shape my life in unimaginable ways. I joined the Navy. Over time, I became a corpsman attached to a unit of Marines,

stationed in the challenging terrain of Afghanistan. It was a life of duty and service, but it gave me purpose. Once my time with the Navy was up, I decided to further my education and embarked on a journey to earn my EMT certifications, and, eventually, my paramedic qualifications. college life had its own surprises in store for me as I met an incredible girl who would become my girlfriend. Our connection grew stronger, and not long after, we moved in together. It seemed like the beginning of a beautiful chapter, a loving family, just as my father had before me.

However, life took an unexpected turn. Time flew by, and before I knew it, three years had passed. None of the dreams I had cherished had materialized. Our relationship slowly deteriorated, leading to a heartbreaking breakup. I felt like a failure, unable to follow in my father's footsteps as a devoted husband and father. In my professional life as a paramedic, I managed to stay focused on my work, providing care and assistance to those in need. But it was in my free time that the emptiness became most apparent. I needed a distraction, something to fill the void left by the failed relationship.

After careful consideration, I stumbled upon a voluble. volunteer search and rescue organization in my area. Upon reaching out to them, they welcomed me with open arms. I wholeheartedly embrace this new opportunity. In many ways, it reminded me of my military days, venturing into the wilderness to help people in trouble. I grew fond of this work, and even aspired to make it a full-time career when the opportunity arose. My ex had become a distant memory, no longer haunting my thoughts. But now, let's shift focus to why I'm here today. It's not uncommon for citizens to report strange encounters with people exhibiting bizarre behavior. Sometimes, it's a simple case, like a concerned individual encountering an armed hiker.

However, the situation I'm about to describe was far more unsettling. I was idly passing time at home when my boss called. A sheriff's deputy had received a call from a woman who had been walking her dog on public land. She had encountered a man on the trail who initially seemed normal. However, their conversation took a disturbing turn. The man claimed he was being pursued by a group of men who had been chasing him for over a hundred miles. He appeared genuinely terrified.

According to the lady, the man wore a backpack and clean, expensive outdoor clothing, giving no indication of homelessness or intoxication. She had tried to persuade him to accompany her to the sheriff's office, but he vanished when she momentarily turned away. Concerned, she reported the evening. incident to the sheriff, who believed our specialized skills were needed to handle this situation. The search operation didn't commence until the following morning. We quickly picked up the man's trail, which showed signs of distress. It didn't take long to catch up to him, but what we

discovered was far from the happy ending we had hoped for. He had apparently taken his own life during the night. His trail had led to the edge of a sheer cliff, with a drop of a thousand feet. some of us retrieved his body, bringing the search to a grim conclusion. I returned to the top to collect some of his personal belongings. It was then that our head tracker Jack caught my attention. He was kneeling a few yards away, gazing intently at something and muttering to himself. Approaching him, he directed my attention to the ground. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but as I continued to look, something peculiar emerged.

the dry dirt appeared to have been swept in a manner resembling the work of a broom or tree limb. What really caught my eye, though, was the edge of a boot print. Everything except the heel had been swept away. Jack motioned me over to a small tree with a broken stump where a limb had once been. He pointed at it, and I nodded in recognition. I began searching for the recently broken limb, quickly locating it carelessly tossed in some bushes. Jack gestured for me to follow him to the cliff's edge. Standing there, peering back at the trail, now illuminated by the bright daylight,

the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. We could see the trail clearly up to the edge, marked by visible sweep marks. Oddly, the only remaining tracks were ours. It was as if someone had made a hasty effort to conceal their presence, and in doing so had made a significant mistake. Perhaps you've already deduced it, but here's the glaring question. Why would a man, whose tracks had been visible for miles, suddenly vanish about 30 yards from the edge of a cliff,

the very same cliff from which he supposedly jumped? There was no alternate path leading to the edge, and we meticulously checked every possible direction. We were left with more questions than answers. I turned to Jack seeking clarification, but his response was far from satisfying. I'm not really sure, he admitted. but I find it hard to believe that the boy could have leaped from here to there.

We decided to keep this unsettling discovery to ourselves, not wanting to inflict undue stress on the young man's loved ones with a bizarre conspiracy theory. Even now I can't arrive at a definitive conclusion about what transpired that day. Had I not noticed the partial heel print and the missing tracks, I might have dismissed it as a peculiar but ultimately insignificant detail. While I do have my own theories, I'll keep them close to my chest. After all, sharing thoughts of aliens or the paranormal would likely be met with ridicule. They say that the most logical answer is usually the most likely.

So I pose this question to you, what seems like the most logical explanation for this perplexing incident? Some things work better together. Like Narz's soft matte complete concealer and radiant creamy concealer. Soft mat complete concealer erases and blurs and perfections with full coverage. Then, radiant creamy concealer evens and brightens with a luxurious texture and radiant finish. Two concealers, one flawless look. Perfect for a no foundation base. Nars, better together.

Visit Sephora to shop now. This episode is brought to you by Netflix's remarkably bright creatures. What if a Pacific octopus held the key to a mystery that could heal your heart? Well, that's Tova's reality. elderly widow working at an aquarium. Tova forms an unlikely friendship with their cramudgeonly, Marcellus, whose remarkable intelligence leads her to a life-changing discovery. Watch remarkably bright creatures with your remarkable moms this Mother's Day weekend,

only on Netflix May 8th. This episode is brought to you by Perfect Bistro Cat Food. Hey guys, today I'm interviewing my cat about his perfect bistro food. Percy, you seem to be a big Perfect Bistro fan. Care to comment? No! Totally. What do you like about it?

You love the high-quality ingredients? And the delicious flavors, of course. Yeah, that makes a ton of sense. Listen to Percy, guys. Visit perfect bistro.com to try it for your cat. I've always been someone who loved the outdoors, even as a kid growing up in a small city. My parents would have to yell my name from the porch

to get me to come in at night. I grew up in a time when the internet was still a relatively new thing, and you had to use Dial-Up to get connected. Now some of you hearing this can probably hear the sound just by me mentioning Dial-up. Anyway, the story I'm about to share takes place about 10 to 11 years ago. I was with my girlfriend at the time, who I met in college. Our relationship was serious, but it wasn't without its ups and downs. To be honest, it was full of childish drama, and I was super immature at that point.

We had made plans to attend a local fair or carnival, whatever you want to call it, with some family and friends. We actually had a decent-sized group, so we decided that we would all drive separately, and that way we would have several cars, and everyone could leave whenever they wanted. I'm not usually a drinker, and even back in my college years,

alcohol has always given me really bad anxiety the following day, so I usually just avoid it. For whatever reason, this particular night, I was in a really good mood, and actually felt like drinking. I was having a bunch of drinks with my girlfriend's dad. We were giving each other the old, Hey, how long is it going to take you to finish that?

Or, this is already my second one and you're on your first, kind of thing. After, I don't know, a third or fourth drink, my girlfriend came up in front of everyone and said something along the lines of, Are you going to slow down? Or, I think you need to relax, and something like that. I honestly don't remember. What I do remember is acting very poor. poorly, basically pouting because I was annoyed and embarrassed that she had said that.

Again, I was super immature at the time. I remember then just completely shutting down. I wasn't being rude to anyone, but I was giving one-word answers and being very antisocial. I recall my girlfriend even coming up to me with a beer to apologize, which I declined, and I continued with the cold shoulder. Now, looking back on it, I don't know why I was so mad and reacted that way. After walking around for another hour, I decided that I was going to take off and head home since I didn't drive and had been drinking. My girlfriend asked how I was getting home and I said a friend was coming to get me.

I just walked off, leaving the fair, and headed to the parking lot. Now, a ways back from the parking lot was a forest, and behind that I believe there were farms. It was still light out, so I figured that I would just walk into the woods to clear my mind and get out of that crappy mood that I seemed to be in. After heading into the woods for what I thought would be a quick walk, I started getting extremely hot. I don't know if it was because I was feeling buzzed from the drinks, or because it was actually getting hotter out. The longer I sort of trampled around the woods, the more embarrassed I felt about my actions. I was realizing how childish I had acted. I figured that I would just head back to the fair, see if everyone was still there, and meet back up with the group.

But after walking for about 15 minutes, I realized that I was just head back to the fair, see if everyone was still there and meet back up with the group. After walking for about 15 minutes, I realized that I didn't know where I was. I was lost. I couldn't find the path out of the parking lot. I stayed calm and tried to analyze my surroundings to see if anything would stick out. I started to move towards where I thought I had heard a sound, but then realized that I really had no idea what I was doing and where I was going. I was stuck in the middle of the woods with no one around to help.

I pulled out my phone and even though I had a bunch of text messages, my texts or calls just wouldn't go through, and there didn't seem to be any service. After sitting on the dirt and thinking for several minutes, I thought the best idea was to just wait until nightfall. I didn't want to venture deeper into the woods, not knowing where I was, and I thought that I would be able to see the lights from the fair and make my way back. Then I would have cell service, and I could call for a ride home. As the sun began to set, and dusk started to set in, I became more uneasy. I noticed every little sound, a branch breaking, the wind shaking trees, but as it got darker and darker,

I swore that I heard voices. I would twist my neck so fast, thinking that I heard something. It sounded like the voices were getting closer and closer, until silence. Everything was so quiet. And then my heart jumped out of my chest as I heard someone yell, There you are, get them. I started running. I didn't know where I was going, but I just ran.

I was bumping into trees, taking branches to the face. I tripped and fell, and on the second fall I decided to just stay still. I sat as quietly as I could, trying to see if I had gotten away from whoever was screaming and seemingly looking for me. Why were they looking for me? Was I just being paranoid? How did anyone know that I was even in the woods, sitting and waiting for dark? After a few minutes of silence, I heard footsteps going over leaves and branches. It sounded like people were talking to each other. The only thing I remember hearing is, She expects us to get him, or something like that. Once I heard the voices start to trail off in another direction, I began slowly walking. It had become very dark, and I wasn't able to see any lights as of yet. But after what I assumed might have been five to ten minutes of walking,

I started to see a glow in the distance. As I moved closer, I could hear the murmur of life. As soon as I realized that it was the fair in my way out, I'd just sprinted as fast as I could. I don't think I'd ever been that scared in my life. But I always look back on this experience, wondering if there was anything to be scared about. Who were the people in the woods? Were they even looking for me?

Or was it just some big prank or coincidence? Or maybe it was someone just being an idiot. I don't know. Whatever it was, now when I'm out hiking or in the woods, I always feel like I see something in my peripherals, even though I know nothing's there. I always make sure that I'm back home by dark. I've always had trouble focusing on my schoolwork, and it's not just a case of ordinary distractions. Traumatic experiences in my life have left me feeling perpetually off-center.

Even in the peace and quiet of my home, every little thing seemed to bother me. It was as if I couldn't escape the noise in my own head. During my sophomore year of college, I began a strange ritual to cope with this inability to concentrate. I would drive to a secluded location in the countryside, about a 20-minute journey from my house. Surprisingly, this was the only way I could find the solitude and tranquility necessary to tackle my school assignments. But as the end of my senior year loomed, my anxiety reached a crescendo.

One particular exam, which accounted for a whopping 40% of my final grade, haunted my thoughts. I needed at least a 75 on this exam to pass the course, so I decided to turn my study session into a weekend adventure. Instead of my usual spot, I embarked on a journey to a remote area hours away. My plan was to hike through beautiful trails and find a quiet spot to study amidst nature's serenity. I left home early on a Saturday morning and arrived at my destination around 10 a.m. The first part of the day was dedicated to hiking, and by around 2 p.m. I stumbled upon an idyllic clearing near the top of a steep hill. It overlooked a dense forest, and there were some rocks that provided a comfortable spot for me to spread out my books and laptop. As I delved into my

textbook, something peculiar caught my attention, the faint sound of twigs snapping. In my already distracted state, I couldn't help but fixate on this noise. It grew maddening, consuming my every thought. I assumed it must have been some wildlife, perhaps a deer or chipmunk. Determined to scare it away and regain my concentration, I ventured to the edge of the tree line and shouted random noises, but there was no response. I clapped my hands together, hoping to startle whatever creature was out there, but still, there was silence. I stared intently into the thick woods and thought I glimpsed the silhouette of a person moving. I chalked it up to my imagination running wild. The noise ceased, and I convinced myself that my efforts had worked. Relieved, I returned to my

books. However, an uneasy feeling gnawed at me, making it impossible to focus. Flipping through the pages, I realized I wasn't retaining anything. It was time to pack up and find a more convenient place to study closer to my car. When I approached the tree line, I froze. About 30 feet away concealed by the trees, stood the back of a person. Broad shoulders suggested it was a man, but I couldn't be sure since he faced away from me. Clad in all-black attire and wearing a peculiar mask, he looked like something out of a nightmare. I remained still, my mind racing.

The mask was horrifying, white with a long snout-like appendage. It resembled something from a scene in Beetlejuice, but far more sinister. The eyes were jet black, and wild hair sprouted from the mask, a mustard yellow color that seemed to be part of the mask itself. Then the person began to hum, a drawn-out, eerie groan that sent shivers down my spine. He started moving closer and panic gripped me. The clearing was small, and to get back to the trail I'd have to pass by him, sliding down the steep hill was not an option. As he ran toward me, still groaning and humming, he abruptly

stopped right in front of me and let out a laugh. My heart pounded in my chest. Then he resumed his strange humming. He didn't touch me, but the fear was suffocating. Without thinking, I sprinted around him. I could hear him following closely, still humming, but I didn't dare look back. Finally I reached my car, and to my relief, he didn't pursue me any further. My phone signal was weak, but I managed to call the police once I reached the nearest town. I reported the disturbing encounter, but they seemed uninterested, as technically the person hadn't harmed me. With no other complaints, it appeared they wouldn't investigate further. I had no idea what that person was doing in the woods, whether it was a prank, an individual on drugs, or someone genuinely disturbed.

The memory of that mask, that chilling groan, and the terrifying encounter still haunts me to this day. While I was physically unharmed, the psychological trauma remains a vivid scar from that dreadful afternoon. Chronic migraine is 15 or more headache days a month, each lasting four hours or more. Botox, Onabachycininam toxin A prevents headaches in adults with chronic migraine before they start. It's not for those with 14 or fewer headache days a month. It prevents on average 8 to 9 headache days a month versus 6 to 7 for placebo. Prescription Botox is injected by your doctor. Effects of Botox may spread hours to weeks after injection causing serious,

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or call 1-800-44 Botox to learn more. What I'm about to tell you is one of the most significant events of my entire life. But to understand it, I need to lay out a little backstory. Back in 2007, for reasons that are totally irrelevant to the story, I dropped out of college. I had to move back with my mom, who was incredibly angry at me for dropping out, and her condition for me staying there was that I got a job and paid a little rent. Not long after I ended up picking up a few shifts at some catering company, which is where I met David. David was only a year older, and we were into the same kind of movies and music, so we developed this kind of workplace bromance that quickly spilled over into our spare time. We ended up working in different places, but we stayed in

touch, and every so often, we'd head out on a little camping trip. We called it camping, but the truth was, it was just an excuse to get drunk, grill up some steaks, and then give each other the creeps by talking about all the spooky stuff that we liked around the campfire afterwards. We didn't even bring a tent along or anything. We just slept off the beer in the front seats of our cars, and then drove back home the following afternoon, once our heads had been cleared. It might sound kind of lame to some people, but the closer we got to our 30s, the more we valued what little time we had to just get drunk, talk crap, and laugh our butts off like we used to do in the sweaty kitchen back in the day. We went about four or five times in as many years, but the summer of 2015 marked our final camping trip. What happened that night, and over the weeks that followed, is almost a complete mystery to everyone but David, and he's never been the same since.

David was always a quiet guy. He had an awesome sense of humor, and he could handle his beer. But if I had to sum him up in one word, that word would be chill. That's half the reason he was such a great drinking buddy. There was never any drama with him, and that same thing extended into his personal life too. By 2015, he had totally gotten his life on track. He didn't do drugs anymore. He had himself an awesome girlfriend, and he was earning top dollar as a supervisor for some

pharmaceutical company. Everything seemed to be going his way, which makes what happened next all the more confusing. So we drove out to the middle of nowhere on a Friday afternoon, and then we got to setting up our camp for the evening. I was focused on setting up a decent campfire, while David went to and from the car, unpacking the coolers and camping chairs. Then at one point, I'm working on the fire in silence while he's walking back with a cooler in each hand. He puts them down, But as he does so, he says something under his breath that sounded a lot like Lijellies. I looked up from the campfire being like, huh? Would you say Lajellies? But then David gives me this look of confusion and basically returns the same question by asking,

What the hell's Lijellies? I remember laughing a little before telling him, you're the weirdo that said it first, thinking I'd either misheard him, or it was some kind of dumb inside joke that he was pulling. I don't know. He went through a heavy dees-nuts phase for a while, so at first I kind of figured it was another verbal trap or something. But the look of confusion on his face persisted until he finally said,

Dude, I don't know what you're talking about. He kept the super serious look on his face long enough for this wave of creepiness to just run through me. And after a few seconds, I started giving him a slow clap for managing to legitimately scare me. I thought that might break through his little ruse because to me there was no other explanation. for what he was even doing. But when he continued insisting that he hadn't said anything, I started to feel like I was going crazy. I'd heard something, but maybe my distracted self misheard him clearing his throat or whatever, and I was making a big deal out of nothing. I now understand that that was the first red flag of the trip, but in the moment I didn't see it

for what it was. No one cancels their beer and steak trip over some silly little misunderstanding, and I wasn't about to frantically call 911 to help you. my buddy. I guess that's just how those things go. You don't worry about the tremors, and then the earthquake hits, but by then, it's too late to do anything about it. I hadn't forgotten about the whole phantom word thing, but I pushed it to the back of my mind by the time we got to cracking open the first beers. It must have been around 7.30 p.m. by that time, a couple of more hours of daylight to burn, and there had been no repeated incidents like the one before. We got ourselves good and lost in the conversation, grilled up our stakes, and for the next few hours, the mood was a good one.

Then, not long after sunset, our bellies were full, and we got a nice little buzz going. When there was a brief lull in the conversation, we were both just sort of staring off into the fire, enjoying the sound of crickets and the crackling wood. When out of nowhere, David just says, Bozo. I turned to look at him and he's got this big, small. stretched across his face. I asked him, who's a bozo, kind of laughing to myself and how he just plucked the word out of the air, but he just says it again before wheezing, laughing to himself. You know, that kind of silent laughter that some people have when they're not making any noise,

but just kind of rhythmically bobbing in their seat. He's doing that for like a minute before I ask him again, who's bozo? What the hell's so funny? The question only seemed to add to the hilarity before him, and he started rocking back and forth, shaking his head, barely able to contain himself. I remember leaning forward to try and get a look at him or make eye contact. I'm not really sure what I was trying to do, but that's when I saw how red in the face he was and how there was this strip of drool dripping off his bottom lip. Things went from funny to weird to creepy, really damn fast. But when I asked David if he was okay, he literally fell off his camping chair and erupted into the loudest, most unhinged laughter I've ever heard in my entire.

life. I knew something was wrong. I just didn't know what. And when he started making these weird, choking, coughing noises, I was terrified that he was having some kind of seizure that I kind of knew how to deal with. So I just jumped into action and turned him on his side. But then, before I could think to do anything else, I noticed that he was breathing fine and that he was just sort of weakly trying to push me off of him, as if to say, I'm okay, just give me some room. I backed off a little, and as I did so, David seemed like he was starting to calm down. He took a few deep breaths, wiped away the tears and the drool, and then found his feet while letting out a few sort of chuckles,

like he was getting the last of it out of his system. These were all very reassuring signs at first, and I was starting to think that maybe he just had a sort of manic fit of laughter. It wouldn't have been the first time one of us had just laughed until it hurt, but as you probably noticed, his little episode was very irregular, and that's putting it kind of kindly. But then, right when I thought that I was worrying myself over nothing,

David started to take his clothes off. I think I let out a sort of, What the hell are you doing? But it was no good. It was like he couldn't hear me. There were still ripples of that laughter coming and going, little tremors here and there. But other than that, he just got on with stripping himself completely bare.

That's the point where I had a major sense of humor failure. It came out as anger, but I promise you, it was nothing but fear. I was yelling at him to put his clothes on, that it wasn't funny, and if he kept it up, I was going to drive off and then only come back and get him once he was sober. Now it was an empty threat. There was no way I was getting behind the wheel with that many beers in me, but like I said, my patience was about to run dry. I don't mean my patience with him as such, I just mean with this whole situation.

Something was obviously very wrong, and I needed to do that. to know what so I could try and fix it. But there was no fixing anything, and things just got worse. Right as I'm in the middle of yelling all these sort of empty threats at him, David started peeing, and I don't mean like walked off and found a tree to kind of hide behind. I mean he just started peeing right there, not moving at all, just staring at me with this dumb look on his face. The next second, he looks down, notices that he's peeing all over his own legs, and then breaks out into another bout of near uncontrollable laughter. And I say near, because he didn't double over or roll on the floor this time. Instead, he walked over to the nearest tree, which was maybe 10 or 15 feet

away, and he starts punching it really hard. The sound of his knuckles crunching into the bark with all the force he could muster made me feel physically sick. David's a big guy too, especially back then when he was lifting, so imagine a six-foot-four, 250-pound guy is wailing on a tree, and then imagine the kind of damage that would do to his knuckles. I kept screaming at him to stop, and I knew if I grabbed him, there was a good chance that he'd turn on me. But what else could I do? I tried to get him to stop, but he turned around and shoved me off like I was nothing.

It worked, though. He was distracted enough to stop punching the tree, but the damage was done, and his knuckles looked like raw steak. I can't imagine the kind of pain that he must have been in, and I guess some kind of messed up adrenaline high kept him from feeling it. But as I got to my feet and he looked at the blood running over his fingers, he started to laugh again. I don't think words can ever really cover how terrified I was in that moment.

The best I can sum it up is this. It's like every thought in my head was replaced by the numbers 911. I needed help, a lot of help, and I needed it fast. I remember taking my phone out while backing up away from him, and he didn't follow at first. He kept on laughing at the mess that he'd made on his knuckles. But when he heard me talking to the 911 dispatcher, he stopped laughing, pointed at me, and screamed something that I couldn't make out at first. That's how I know that he was still in there, somehow.

He had enough sense to know that I was doing something that he didn't want me to do, but the way he expressed his discontent was just as confusing as it was frighten. All the other stuff, the first time he yelled at me, I was trying to listen to the dispatcher, so my brain wasn't tuned in to what he was shouting. The second time, I heard him loud and clear, and although it was another kind of nonsense word, I'll try my best to type it out. He screamed at me two or three times before he charged at me, and I'm just kind of writing out what I think he said. I tried to listen up for a word in there, but there was nothing, more than seven years later, and I still can't figure out what he was trying to say.

Maybe it doesn't mean anything at all, and it was just part of his brain being all defective and garbling his words. But after the third time of screaming it, at the very top of his lungs, he started running at me like some sort of linebacker. I turned and ran, phone in hand, hoping my natural night vision

would just adjust fast enough to avoid smashing into a tree. I think I must have run for a good couple of minutes before I realized no one was chasing me anymore. I remember kneeling down and trying to puk as quietly as possible so I could still listen for anyone following. When it was clear David wasn't following, I started walking back to where our campfire was. Walking too fast, and I might end up walking into a trap, walking too slow, and I might end up losing him in the woods. It ended up being the second one, although it didn't seem like the worst of the two options at the time. As I walked back through the darkness, time would prove me wrong on that one.

When I got back to our campfire, David was nowhere to be seen. I'll admit to not looking too hard for him at first. That's something I always feel guilty about. But at the time, I was terrified that he was just crouched behind some tree, waiting for me to let my guard down. It was around that time that I realized that I was still on the line with 911. But knowing that I wouldn't be able to defend myself, I hung up with the intention of calling back once I was safe again.

Looking back on it, that's something I'm not. I see as a big mistake on my part, but I cannot overstate how terrified I was and how much that influenced my decision-making. Instead, I ran back to my car, locked the doors, and then called 911 again, once I was in a position to drive off if David reappeared. I told the dispatcher everything but hammered home the point of it being some kind of mental health crisis. The last thing I wanted was to watch my best friend getting shot by the cops, especially by some small-town sheriff's deputy with very little de-escalation training. It's not their fault. I've got a brother-in-law who's a cop, so I know it's all budget-related and not just incompetence. But still, you get my point about

the cops. About 30 to 40 minutes later, two deputies actually showed up, and I helped them search the surrounding woods, calling out David's name as we went. They kept their pistols in their holsters, and walked with pepper spray and tasers at the ready. This was a huge weight off my mind, and they were very receptive to the idea of it being some kind of psychotic break. But they also raised an issue that I feel I should take the time to clarify now. David might have been a fairly regular beer drinker, and I know he experimented a little growing up, but at the time of his disappearance, he was not on any kind of illegal or prescription drug. Beer was his vice, but even then, he wouldn't drink any more than a bottle or two each night. By 2015, a 12-pack around the campfire was considered

super indulgent by our standards. He wasn't an alcoholic. He hadn't taken anything on the night that he disappeared, to the knowledge of those close to him. He wasn't suffering from any ongoing mental health issues. I'm not saying that there's anything suspicious or mysterious about that. Perfectly normal people sometimes experience random, unexpected mental issues during their lifetimes, and they go on to have perfectly normal lives again after recovering. But what the vast majority those people don't do is disappear for six months, and then reappear with zero memory of what had happened while they were gone. I guess I shouldn't have told you that right there. Maybe I'm not the best person to tell the story, but it's true. David was declared a missing person around 12 hours after he

disappeared. First, I think it normally takes longer to get that status, but his vulnerable mental state allowed us to kind of get that process sped up. The cops went back in bigger numbers to search the forest, but didn't find anything. After that, they went back with even more guys, but also tracker dogs and search and rescue teams and all that other stuff, and still they didn't find anybody. A month or two into the search,

cops said that they were still looking, but we kind of knew that they'd given up on finding David alive. There was a lot of talk of him falling into some river and drowning, or maybe succumbing to the cold if he couldn't get out of the water in time, but no matter how hard the cops searched the river for miles up and down each bank, there was no sign of David or what was left of him. A few months later, all the immediate interest in the case had died down. The case had only one cop working on it at that point, but we weren't quite ready to give up. I'm not saying that we all expected David to just

show up alive, but we knew that he was out there somewhere. People don't just disappear, and at some point he'd show up again. That might be a happy reunion, or it might be a heart-breaking one. but either way we told ourselves that it was an inevitability. Maybe for some of us it was a matter of faith. But for me, it was something I told myself to avoid having to face the possibility that David was dead. We held on to that belief for six long months. Almost nothing else mattered. We hoped, dreamed, and prayed for the day, David would reappear.

And one day, believe it or not, he did. At the time he showed up again, I was working as the regional sales representative for a fair, large stationary company. The workday had ended with this long sales strategy meeting because we had all but completely transitioned online by that point. The meeting meant that I had my phone switched to do not disturb mode. When I got out of the meeting, I walked to my car, pulled out my phone and saw at least a dozen missed calls from a bunch of different people. I kind of knew what it was going to be about, since most of the callers were David's parents, siblings, and mutual friends of but I honestly expected it was because his body had been found, so when I heard that he'd been

found alive, I was blown away. I celebrated like the Chiefs had just won the Super Bowl, and then drove straight over to David's parents' place to join in with the celebrations. But when I got there, not only was David not there, but no one seemed in the mood to celebrate. You see, the person I called back first, a mutual friend who lived out of state, didn't know all the details. He just knew David had been found alive. So when I got to his parents' place and they filled me in on what was happening, I understood why the mood was so low. In the early morning hours of the day, David showed up, he walked into the emergency room and told a nurse that he felt ill. But this emergency room wasn't anywhere near where he went missing. He was up in Canada.

And when David found out where, and more accurately, when he was, he freaked out so badly that he had to be restrained and sedated. When he came to, he claimed to have no memory of what had happened to him over the past six months, and that his final memory before blacking out was driving out to the camping spot that he and I used to frequent. It wasn't quite a happy ending. It was more like the world's worst twist ending. I went over to his parents' house to find that David was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he was at a psychiatric hospital, being evaluated by doctors and shrinks. He was apparently a shadow of his former self. He was malnourished and had lost over 100 pounds. The mysterious word he'd shouted at me the night he disappeared turned out to be a

word from a language that doesn't exist. The word doesn't translate into anything, and even if it did, there wouldn't be any speakers of that language on earth. He had lost his job and his girlfriend, but he seemed largely uninterested in those losses. His parents were heartbroken to see him in such a state. As for his six-month absence, he claimed to have absolutely no memory of it. He said that one moment he was driving out to our campsite, and the next, he was waking up in a hospital bed in Canada. To this day, he cannot recall anything that happened during those six months. The doctors were baffled and couldn't find any medical explanation for his amnesia. They even brought in specialists from different fields, but none could shed any light on what had happened to him.

David spent a long time in the psychiatric hospital, undergoing therapy and treatment. His physical health improved, but his mental state remained fragile. He was diagnosed with dissociative amnesia, a condition in which a person experiences memory loss, often due to a traumatic event or psychological distress. However, the cause of his amnesia remained a mystery. After several months in the hospital, David was released into the care of his parents. He moved back in with them and began the slow process of trying to rebuild his life. He never fully recovered his memories of those missing six months,

and to this day he has no recollection of where he was or what happened to him during that time. Over the years, David has made progress in his recovery, but he continues to grapple with the emotional and psychological toll of his experience. He has undergone extensive therapy and counseling, but the root cause of his amnesia remains unknown. The strange word he shouted during that fateful camping trip, L'Jellies, has never been explained, and it remains a perplexing mystery. To this day, the story of David's disappearance and subsequent reappearance is a source of deep intrigue

and confusion for those who know him. While he has made strides in his recovery, the unanswered questions and the unexplained nature of his amnesia continue to haunt him and those who care about him. David's case remains one of the most baffling and enigmatic mysteries I have ever encountered, and it serves as a stark reminder of the fragility of the human mind and the mysteries that can lie within it. Stitch Fix. Stop shopping, get styled. A plus on the outfit, Miss Turner. You are about to slay parent-teacher conferences. Oh, these? Just the most perfect fitting jeans my stylist sent me. Oh, hello, you, who didn't set one foot in a mall and still looks amazing!

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