Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 15x06: Family From Hell

Episode Date: August 11, 2025

Enjoy this week's patreon content for free! Stick around for a bonus half hour of Let's Not Meet. Join our Patreon for only $5 a month for over 100 hours of bonus content just like you've heard this week, and it's all ad-free! Upcoming Live Shows: 11/17 - Phoenix, AZ @ Rebel Lounge - TICKETS 11/19 - St. Paul, MN @ Turf Club - TICKETS 11/20 - Chicago, IL @ Beat Kitchen - TICKETS Stories in this episode: Beware the Sympathy Trap | Zealousideal-Bat-745 (1:00) Creepy Guy On the way to College | Felix (11:20) Night Market Nuisance | chokii_ (15:56) Dogsitting and a Gross Abuse of Free Wifi | astro-ponies (19:56) How I Was Nearly Kidnapped as a Child | idk_11140 (27:33) This Messed With Me More Than I Expected | Feisty-Donut-8119 (32:05) Heard a Whistle Late at Night | Lumpyartichoke030 (35:49) Camping Will Be Fun... | therealsacagawea (39:16) Extended Patreon Content: Family From Hell | Aaliyah (49:03) My Father's Psychiatrist Was Arrested | Shannon (55:02) Due to periodic changes in ad placement, time stamps are estimates and are not always accurate. Send your stories to [e-mail].    Want Bonus Weekly Stories? Hate Ads? Join our Patreon for only $5 a month for over 100 hours of bonus content, and it's all ad-free! Join the Discord: https://discord.gg/84WXQud4gE Follow: - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/crypticcounty - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com/ - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ - TikTok - https://www.tiktok.com/@crypticcounty All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. 

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I'm a 21-year-old female, and I work in the hospitality industry, specifically doing graveyard shifts that usually run from 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. That being said, I have seen and dealt with some of the most insane experiences. I could easily write a book at this point, but this particular experience that I'm about to share was one of the most frightening. For further context, I was brought up to be, caring, empathetic, and understanding. These core values mean a lot to me, and I live by them. On numerous occasions, I've been told that having this mentality could lead me to being targeted

by people with ill intentions. I didn't believe that, since I've always felt that it's nice to be nice. But in hindsight, after everything that happened, I've learned it's best to be a bit more skeptical. I work at a hotel, and usually during these graveyard shifts, there are always two of us in the building. Once all of our work is finished, we're free to sit down and relax for the remainder of our shift, or at least until the morning manager arrives roughly at around 6 a.m. So, on this particular day, I did exactly that. I finished my tasks and sat down in the main area of the building to have a late-night snack and watch some reels on my phone, as one does on a break.

My co-worker decided that he would take a nap as it was roughly 3 a.m. and nobody was around. This was fine by me. About 20 minutes passed, when I heard a bunch of commotion near the bar area. When I looked up from my phone, I was met with the eyes of this man who was probably around 40 years old. He was just standing at the bar counter. This wasn't unusual, as people often come down to grab some water or a smoke before heading back to bed, so I really didn't care about seeing him and went back to Doom scrolling on my phone. I was mid-scroll when I heard him say, sorry, excuse me. I let out a sigh as I thought to myself, what could this man possibly want for me at 3.30 a.m.

So I stood up and asked if he was okay, and I apologized for being on my phone, hoping he wouldn't complain to my manager in the morning. He responded, but I didn't quite catch what he was saying, so I walked over to the bar and kindly asked him to repeat himself, and apologized again. Is it okay if I have some water? He asked shakily.

He was literally shaking, almost nervous, and he was very soft-spoken on top of that. Honestly, he seemed non-threatening, even though he was a foot taller than me. He was about six feet tall. Of course I said yes, and went to walk away when he stopped me and said, I'm sorry, is it okay if I talk to you for a while?

My mom is dying in the hospital and I can't sleep. Looking back, I always kicked myself for not making up some excuse about needing to do work, but I agreed to stay and talk with him. It was my stupid empathy. He asked if I smoked and I said, I do. He then asked me to step outside for a smoke and talk. I naively agreed.

We talked about his mom, and I tried my best to comfort him, but I had recently dealt with a loss myself, so this topic of conversation hit me particularly hard. He thanked me for being so kind, and continued to talk about his life. He told me about how he used to be homeless, but he moved in with his sister to get back on his feet. He explained that they weren't from the city,

but they were both staying at the hotel where I worked due to the circumstances, but they weren't from this city. I listened and occasionally responded by nodding. It had started as a polite conversation, but then something changed. He asked, Are there cameras out here?

I wouldn't want you getting in trouble for being out. How this didn't register in my mind as a red flag is unbelievable. I still can't believe how naive I was. Anyway, thankfully, I didn't respond with a yes or no. I just assured him I wouldn't get into any trouble for being outside and smoking. He seemed disappointed with my answer. I presume because he didn't get the information he was asking for, whether there were cameras, or how they were placed.

And while the conversation kept getting weirder and creepier, I didn't realize, because I simply saw a sad man who needed a friend. Eventually, some form of fighter flight was activated in my brain, so I told him I was cold, and I was going to head in, to which he said, come here, give me a hug, it'll warm you up. At this point I was creeped out, but I was still giving him the benefit of the doubt. I thought maybe he was just bad at picking up on social cues or something. Even so, I declined, and I walked inside, but he followed me.

He asked if he could grab a coffee and sit with me for a while. And being by myself and on the verge of a panic attack, I decided I didn't want to get on this guy's bad side. So I agreed. as we sat there he continually asked oddly invasive questions do you have kids he asked this was a no for me but then he proceeded to ask do you want kids do you have a boyfriend i told him i had a fiance which was a lie and he continued do you love him i don't mean any harm by asking these questions you're just so beautiful

My brain was then screaming at me to get out of this situation, and I knew I had to think quickly. Come on and sit next to me. I won't bite, he purred. I thought, absolutely not, as I quickly made up an excuse and said that I had to get the area ready for the morning, since my manager would be showing up any minute. Right then, my co-worker woke up from his nap and passed by to get a coffee. this startled the man so he stood up and said tell your mom i was asking about her then he forced a hug and left to go up to his room it was unbelievable he was pretending to be a family friend so that my co-worker wouldn't be suspicious of him i just stood there in shock unable to speak my brain was still trying to process what just happened but i kept quiet and i helped my co-worker and i helped my co-worker set up for the morning crew as it was now 5.30 a.m. Yes, I had to deal with this guy for two hours. At 5.50, I sat down and waited for my manager to show up so that I could finally go

home. I was hoping that this man wouldn't come back before I left, which was wishful thinking since he showed up behind me out of nowhere. I think I'm going to step out to go to a shop. I'm out of smokes, he said. I was baffled by why I would need to know this, so I just kept silent. Then he asked me for my pen, which I gave him, and he walked off again. He returned five minutes later, returned my pen, and while standing awfully close to me, said, I wrote a note for you. Then he dropped this piece of cardboard behind my back and walked away. In hindsight, I see how sneaky this was. He made sure no one would see him dropping the note.

I picked it up to read it. It was weird overall, but there was one line in particular that made my skin crawl. Wear tighter pants for me the next time. They'd look good on you. I ran to the office immediately and sat in front of the CCTV monitor so that I could see exactly where he was. He was standing outside of the building pacing, waiting.

He then walked back into the building, and on camera I could see that he was looking for me. However, thankfully, I was in the office. So he walked back outside. He began pacing again and waited a bit more before hiding himself out of sight behind a corner. When my manager arrived, I told them about what happened, and they told me to leave via the back entrance.

which I did. I was shaking, checking behind me every few seconds. Every noise made me run faster and faster until I finally reached the safety of my home. As I sat down processing everything, my phone suddenly vibrated. I received a text message from an unsaved number that read, Thanks for the chat.

Let's talk soon. I have no idea how he got my number, but I've never blocked someone so fast in my life. I told the higher-ups what had happened. I didn't return to work until he was permanently banned from my workplace, which wound up being a whole month later. I sincerely hope that we never meet again, but I still fear. I'll see him somewhere.

On the day that this happened, I was really upset and had left college early, as I had mental health concerns at the time. I'm in the UK where college starts at 16. I was approached by this man who looked like he was in his 30s. He was wearing this dark puffer jacket and a weird cap. He had this weird gray bag with him. It was kind of like one of those family holiday bags that you take for camping. Unfortunately, my brain cut out anything else that he was wearing,

so that's all I'm able to mention. He asked how I was doing, and being the naive teen that I was, I assumed he noticed that I was upset and was just being nice. I'm ordinarily an anxious person, but for some reason, I didn't feel weirded out by this, and I thought that he was genuinely concerned about me. So, I took off my earphones and said,

Oh, I'm okay, how are you? I figured maybe he was just a neighbor or something, and our conversation was pretty casual, that is, until he asked me which college I went to. Normally, I would have blindly answered that correctly, but something inside of me ticked since he was clearly looking at my bright green lanyard. It had the logo of my college on it, and his interest just felt suspicious.

I was feeling a bit nervous because I didn't know if I should lie, or if that was a bad idea, considering that the answer was right in front of his face. I ended up truthfully telling him which college I went to, which made me start to feel uneasy. I really wanted to cry in that moment because I knew I couldn't just take my phone out or anything, since something in me told me he might attack me. He instantly asked me if I'd like to go to his place, but I stuttered an awful lie about needing to go pick up some shopping orders for my mom. He told me, that's okay, we can hang out another time.

This officially rang the bell for me, indicating that I was definitely in danger since I didn't know this guy. He was just some guy who approached me while I was alone on a quiet street. I tried to make excuses to walk away, but he just kept talking. I was feeling a bit frustrated at this point, but even if I was mad that he was taking up my time, there wasn't much that I could do because I was smaller than him. I was also terrified.

Finally, the conversation seemed to be winding down. The guy asked me, where I lived. I figured my best bet in this situation would be to lie, so I pointed vaguely in a direction that didn't lead to my house. but he laughed as he corrected my arm to make sure that it pointed directly at my house. Don't lie, he said, I always see you coming from over there. This confirmed he likely had been watching me for days. I decided to shut the conversation down completely and tell him that my mom was going to be mad

if I didn't get home right away, considering that's where I should have been by this point. He smiled and watched me walk away before continuing to talk. As I walked toward my place, I was calling my mom to let me in because we live in a three-story apartment. I told her about what happened, and, like an average mother, she didn't listen to me and went outside to confront him directly. This upset me a bit, considering it caused him to run away.

But by the time we called the police, they were unable to find him. Speaking of police, or neighborhood watch, a couple of our actual neighbors mentioned how they saw him hanging around the primary school that was right behind the street where he interacted with me. Hearing about that grossed me out. I'm happy that I never agreed to go over to his house, and I'm grateful that I never saw him again.

But what I'm not grateful for is the fact that I'll always feel like I'm being watched now. I don't have any idea if that's a trauma thing or just normal, but I hate it. So to the weird guy with the puffer jacket, let's not meet again. I'm a female, and this happened when I was only nine years old. My parents used to work as night market vendors. They were selling shoes back then.

My mom always warned me to stay cautious and not to wander off too far, especially at night. And I listened because I always felt anxious as a kid. I always seemed to have this feeling that I just couldn't shake. I felt like I was in constant danger. One night, I was playing right next to my parents' fan. My parents were tending to the customers, so their attention wasn't on me.

As I was playing, I was acting as if I were a Pokemon trainer, and then I saw a glimpse of a man. He was tall and skinny, and he was hiding behind an abandoned burger stand, just a few meters away from me. After I noticed him, I kept playing, but I was on high alert. The man eventually slowly emerged from the shadows with just a dollar in Malaysian currency in his hand. He then motioned with his hand, encouraging me to come closer. I knew from the start that this had to be one of those situations that my mom told me to watch out for. He seemed like an exact example of what she had always warned me about. He was a man lurking in the shadows, trying to lure kids to come closer.

I knew exactly what was going on. So I backed away, trying to keep myself close. to the light, and within sight of the market crowds. Then, the man crept closer, raising his hand for me to see the cash that he was holding. He then set the money down and stepped away. It was clear that he wanted me to come and get it, but I didn't. And from then on, I decided to play, quite literally, in front of my parents' fending station. I also went into their tools, picked up a hammer, and gently swissed.

I pushed it around so that the man would think that I was dangerous. I felt safer being in my parents' eye line, but this man was persistent. He blended in with the crowds, and when I saw him again, he had even more cash in hand. He stood far away from me in a strategic spot where he could take off without being seen.

I decided I had had enough. I was now 100% creeped out, So I went to my mom and I told her that I didn't feel well. She told me to get into the van and rest while they kept working. So I did. After I was in the van, I kept looking through the window. And the man was nowhere to be found, so I assumed he was gone. With a sigh of relief, I laid down, and I told myself that I was safe to go to sleep.

That was when I saw a familiar-looking person walking around the front of the van. He was walking toward the door, the one that I knew was unlocked. I immediately jumped out of the van and ran to my mom. I told her that there was a man who kept flashing money at me and telling me to come closer. My mom asked me to show my dad where the man was. My dad followed me, but the man had disappeared, leaving the one dollar he had set down for me. I pointed out the money to my dad and he approached it. He picked it up and gave it to me and told me,

me to stay in sight as his eyes darted around the market. That was the one and only time I ever saw this guy. But I've always wondered, did any other kids fall victim to this? If so, was he ever caught? Last year, I was dog-sitting for my aunt. Her dog is small, sweet, and a bit skittish. I had to work most of the week, so I just stayed at her house and watched the dog. It's a nice-sized house.

It's not big enough to feel empty whenever I'm alone, but it's also not small, so I wasn't feeling cramped. The only rooms I used were the kitchen, bathroom, living room, and the guest bedroom. My last day working during this particular week was a double shift. I was excited because after I was done with this long shift, I had two days off, and I planned on using them to introduce my aunt's dog to Rupal's drag race. At the time I was a barista and cashier. Where I worked, the mornings were always busy and the nights were slow.

On weekends, most people are concerned with coffee and breakfast than anything else that we make. have to offer. I usually try to keep in good spirits when I'm working a double shift because regardless of the time and annoying customers, extra money is always needed. During this particular double shift, I was having a nice time. This was because this day was turning out to be not as hectic as the previous mornings that week. One of said mornings even involved a small fire. Well, as the morning rush line was dwindling. The limited tables in the restaurant came into view and I started people watching. As I slowly scanned the customers eating bagels and reading the paper, my eyes went straight to a man. He was sitting in front of his laptop. He had long, dirty hair and a bit of

stubble. Instead of looking at his computer, he was staring at me with a little too much intensity. Initially, I figured that he found my people watching Rude, so I decided to clean and restock instead. After I started tasking, it didn't take long for a line to build up, so I returned to the register. Once again, after the crowd dissipated, I saw the tables in the front. The man was still there, and he was still staring at me. Now and then he would look at his laptop,

but then right back at me. It got to the point where I wasn't sure if he was looking through me or if he was looking at every part of me but I felt very uncomfortable so I decided to just get out of his sight and I went to clean the back of the restaurant. After the rush I took my break

and I sat far away from the man. He was out of my sight and I was out of his. When I came back from my break the man was gone. And my manager asked if I had interacted with him at all. I told her about how he kept making eye contact with me and staring. But I explained that nothing else happened beyond that. She told me that the man was watching porn on his laptop, so she asked him to leave.

The story, as it is at that point, is weird enough, but I mean, some man I didn't know was watching porn and staring at me. I wish this was the end of the story. But there's more. Hours passed and the rest of the day was normal, although a few female co-workers and I were feeling slightly on edge. We were in the process of closing, which is a process that I genuinely enjoy. I'm one of those weirdos who likes to clean.

We were well into the closing process, and I was almost done with my assigned jobs when my manager came up to me again. She informed me that the man had found his way back into the restaurant at some point, and she found him hiding in the back corner. She chased him out by threatening to call the police. I knew that earlier in the day, he seemed to be paying attention to me, so she said that I could finish up whatever I needed to do, and strongly advised me to get home as quickly

as possible. She offered to walk me to my car, so when I was ready, I quickly got my things together and clocked out. My aunt's house, where I was staying, wasn't far from work. It was a five-minute drive at most, which was helpful because I didn't have to feel that crippling anxiety from all of this for much longer. After I got into the house, I triple-checked that I had locked every door, and then I got into my pajamas. But I wasn't ready to sleep yet, because it was time to introduce the dog to Rupal's drag race. So I went into the living room. The living room was the first room that you walk into from the front door.

It had a couch, two chairs, a TV, a window, and the front door. Unfortunately, the porch light was broken, and the window had no curtains. That was a little stressful for me, but I was willing to sit in the living room and watch TV since the only other TV in the house was in the basement. Facing the TV in the basement meant having my back to a sliding glass, door, facing the very dark woods. No thanks.

I was setting up the TV in the living room when the dog started growling. At first I didn't think anything of this, since, as I mentioned, my aunt's dog is a bit skittish, so he growls and barks all the time. I wasn't looking at him, but I was shushing him, as I was trying to figure out how to work the TV. But the dog didn't stop. He began to get louder. so I finally put the remote down and turned to face him.

And then I froze. The dog was barking at the window where there was an outline of a man just standing there. I couldn't help but notice that this man appeared to have the exact same build as the guy that was kicked out of the restaurant earlier. I screamed, and luckily,

that was enough to make the man run away from the window. even after he was gone I stood there frozen for quite a while my aunt's dog calmed down but I hardly felt safe so I went to the kitchen grabbed a big knife and did what any responsible adult would do I called my mommy she didn't advise calling the police as she never does but instead she came over to my aunt's house to spend the night with me I told my aunt about what happened and I spent the rest of the time at her house

clutching this knife anytime I slept or took a shower. My aunt also gave me permission to have one friend stay with me every night. Nothing else ever happened. I never saw the guy who came into the restaurant again either. A part of me wishes that I knew who he was, or where he went, or what he even wanted with me. I'm glad that he was a coward, though. And I'm glad that all it took for me to scare him off was a scream.

and an extra small dog. So let's not meet again, gross porn guy. Who on earth watches porn in a sandwich shop anyway? I'm an 18-year-old male. This happened when I was visiting my grandfather for some sort of family get-together when I was nine. Since it was so long ago, it's a bit difficult to remember all of the kids,

the details. My grandfather lives a few states away from me and my family. It's about a two-hour drive to get to him from our home. My father and I drove up, went to the get-together, and had a great time. For a bit of background, my grandpa lives in a very small town, so small that everybody knows everybody. My father and his brothers all grew up in this town as well, and they're very familiar with it. Once the function was over, we were ready to head home, so we stopped at one of the local gas stations to fuel up for the two-hour drive back home. As we were walking into the gas station to get some beverages for the road, I immediately clocked this guy who was walking out as we were walking in. I still remember exactly what he looked like. He was about

5'10, same height as my dad, and he had shaggy hair and a five o'clock shadow. He was wearing a white tank top, black basketball shorts, and bright red sneakers. My dad and I walked past him and into the gas station. I noticed a display with light-up fidget spinners right at the register. This was during the height of the fidget spinner craze. They were only three bucks, so I asked my dad if I could have one. Trying to teach me the principle of working to earn things, my dad told me that if I went to the car and cleaned out all of the trash, he would get one for me. There wasn't much trash in the car, and I knew it would only be a 30-second task, so I jumped on

the offer. I agreed and walked out to the car while he grabbed our snacks. But as soon as I stepped outside of the gas station, and the door closed behind me, a navy blue minivan pulled up. The driver was the same man that I had seen while we were walking in. He stopped right in front of me and rolled his window down. I assumed he had stopped so that I could cross to get to my car. I wanted to be polite so I waved him through, indicating that he could cross first.

Then he used his pointer finger to gesture towards me, telling me to come to him. Being young and wanting to assume the best, I thought that he was still waving me across, so I shouted, It's okay, you go ahead, and I waved him through once more. And that's when he said, No, come here, and he began to open his car door. That's when I realized he was trying to get me into his car. I panicked and screamed something along the lines of fuck no, and turned around and ran back into the gas station. I panicked even more once I got back inside since my father was up front by the register when I had walked out, but now he was nowhere to be seen. I screamed for him at the top of my lungs, gaining the attention of the other people who were in there.

My dad came running from the back of the gas station where the drink coolers were and asked me what was wrong. I explained the situation to him in between sobs since I was shaken up. The man at the register called the police. They eventually showed up and had me describe the man in his vehicle, and they asked for an official statement. Coincidentally, the police officer I gave the statement to used to be my father's babysitter when he was a kid, so he was very nice and patient with me. I'm sure my statement wasn't the most coherent, given that I was only nine, but they ended up finding the guy. He was arrested, but not because of the kidnapping attempt, it was because he had been cooking meth in his house.

I'm not sure what happened as far as a trial or jail time because we were never updated on the guy beyond that. This happened so long ago, and we sometimes still stop at this gas station when coming back from family functions at my grandfather's house. And I still get anxious whenever I go in there. This happened when I was around 10. At that time, my mom and dad had just divorced, and my mom moved into a small apartment. The building only had two apartments per floor right across from each other. In the first few months, we never really saw the neighbor who lived across from us.

But then, we suddenly started seeing him more often. often. I remember the first time I saw him. He was behind the building in a small garden with his dogs. I don't think I necessarily felt scared of him when I saw him, but I was overcome with this feeling that something was wrong. He was staring at me, but not in a normal way. It's tough to explain. It just made me feel very uneasy. There was something about him, his presence, that felt strange, even though I couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. It just felt off. A few days later, he came to our apartment and asked my mom if he could buy me toys and underwear.

My mom was obviously put off by this, but I don't really know what happened next. All I know is she kicked him out of our apartment right away. I didn't see or hear anything from him for the next two weeks. But then, one night, around midnight, I was in my room, which was right next to the front door. I suddenly started hearing knocking, but it wasn't regular knocking. It sounded like someone was trying to force the door open by jiggling the handle. It was slow at first, but then the jiggling got faster and faster.

As I was hearing this, my heart started racing. I was frozen in fear. I wanted to get up and wake my mom. or even just looked through the peephole, but I couldn't move. I was so scared that my body tensed up and refused to cooperate with what my brain was telling it to do. I even doubted myself thinking maybe it was a dream or something,

but I knew that it was real, and I could feel the panic in my chest. My mom and I moved out of that apartment quickly after that, and we never saw him again. However, since then, I've developed this weird paranoia that has never really gone away. It's like my brain keeps playing tricks on me.

Whenever I hear a noise, no matter how little it is, I'm instantly convinced that someone's in the house. I keep imagining things that aren't there, like someone hiding in the hallway watching me from the dark. A few years after this happened, someone actually broke into our house. It was a guy who was inebriated, and it seemed like he was just lost,

so I don't think he had bad intentions, but it didn't make it any less scary. I know it sounds irrational, but it never feels irrational in the moment, and my body always freezes leaving me unable to move, just like that night. These things come and go and waves for me. Some days I'm totally fine, but other days, all of these feelings come rushing back stronger than ever. Even when I lock the doors and double-check everything, I can't fully shake this feeling. feeling. It's exhausting, and I hate that this has power over me. I feel ridiculous sometimes when

it happens out of nowhere, and there's nothing that I can do to stop the fear. Sometimes it feels like I can't escape it. This happened recently when my boyfriend and I were heading home. It was around midnight and we got a flat tire. We were on the highway so we immediately got off at the next exit, even though we were in the middle of nowhere, and he started changing the tire. It was dark and the only light we had was from our car's headlights and our phones.

I was feeling nervous, and I kept telling my boyfriend that I was hearing things. I felt weird because where we were was so desolate but I shook it off and just assumed I was being paranoid Even so I continued feeling so paranoid and anxious but my boyfriend kept trying to calm me down so that he could focus on changing the tire

to get us out of there I was on the lookout with my flashlight the whole time and finally after 30 minutes of being out there he finished changing the tire He told me to put something away in my car And as soon as I went back to him He yelled Get the fuck in the car now

I immediately got back in the car Which made me begin to panic From inside the car I could feel the entire car Moving from the trunk I just heard banging I kept trying to look back and forth To see where my boyfriend was

And I was also trying to see if I could see anyone else out there But honestly This moment was such a moment was such a blur that I hardly remember anything from it. Thankfully, my boyfriend eventually got in the car, and we rushed out of there. As we sped away, he proceeded to tell me that he had heard a whistle from a thornbush in front of us as someone was calling out to him. The next thing he knew, he saw a flash of someone wearing jeans, and he saw a figure moving in the bushes.

When he heard the whistle He immediately picked up the flat tire And forced it into the trunk Which explains the shaking that I felt We were terrified because we were at that location For a solid half hour And I felt that something was off right away So it's entirely possible that we were being watched

The entire time This especially seems likely Since we never saw any other vehicles Take the exit that we took To pull off and change the tire Why was that person out there? What were they doing in the thorn bush? Why were they just watching us for half an hour?

Why did it take them so long to make their presence known? I wish that I had looked around as we were driving out there to see if there was any movement or if I saw anyone, but we were both panicking so much. My boyfriend had literal chills all over his body. He said that, he was forcibly closing the trunk and he had a crowbar handy just in case

but the person never approached him. He said everything happened so fast that it was just a blur, so he didn't see anything else. We aren't sure what that whistle was, but we are thankful that nothing happened and we learned never to stop in the middle of nowhere again, especially at night.

My husband and I went camping for the first time in Arizona as part of our long trip out west. I had picked out this really cool place that was a mountain, overlooking a beautiful landscape. It was next to a cliff in a pretty desolate location. We were out about 20 miles on gravel roads in the middle of a national. forest. When we got there, we set up our tent and hiked a little bit while taking pictures of the surrounding area. We saw a few cars parked around two tents, so we decided to stop and talk to other campers nearby, since we had heard that there was going to be a bad storm that night. The campers we spoke to were four guys who were from Arizona, and they told us not to worry,

as the storm wasn't expected to hit too terribly around this area. They didn't seem concerned, so that was all the persuading I needed to stay. Later on, while walking a bit further down to campsite, we saw a woman who was with her dog and another older lady. We smiled and waved at them as we continued to hike down a bit further into the forest. Let me elaborate that because of the storm, we were among maybe a total of seven campers

who decided to stay and withstand the night. My husband and I watched the sunset, and when we got back to our campsite, we made sure that our car was only a few yards away. We eventually went into our tent when it got too dark to see. There weren't any stars that night due to the storm clouds.

It hadn't begun to rain yet, and we decided to try and fall asleep as quickly as we could so that we could possibly sleep through the storm wherever it ended up hitting. It was an insanely windy night, so it was hard to get to sleep, but we eventually got a bit of shut-eye.

I woke up at around 10.30 p.m. to the sound of some crazy thunder rolling through the mountains and rain hitting down hard on our tent. I was a little freaked out because this area routinely had a lot of flash floods, and I didn't want to to essentially slip off the side of the cliff.

But I told myself to calm down and try to get back to sleep and eventually I dozed off again. At midnight I was wide awake. This time it was because I heard something heavy hitting the side of our tent. It sounded like somebody was punching our tent and sliding something down the side of it.

I opened my eyes and I tried to have a look but I couldn't see anything. It was completely done. dark, and there was no light whatsoever. The sound continued every couple of minutes, and at this point I was terrified. And then suddenly I heard footsteps right next to my side of the tent. They were slow, but steady.

This made my entire body freeze up. I was seriously starting to think about how I was probably going to die. My heart was beating so fast that I was certain that whoever was out there could hear it. and then, whoever this was, let out a deep sigh on the opposite side of the tent. I was thinking it could be a bear, which made me realize that I might potentially need to face this thing. So then, in a desperate call for my husband's mind-reading powers, I squeezed his hand really hard, and he woke up. But instead of reading my mind, he blurted out, what's wrong? Why are you squeezing my hand?

Right when he said this, the footsteps stopped. And I didn't hear any footsteps again. So after a while, when I finally broke out of my frozen state, I told him what I heard. We ultimately decided it must have been an animal passing by. But whatever was hitting on our tent continued to do so every so often. This was starting to make me go a bit insane, as I was wondering what was going on. We convinced ourselves that it was just debris falling from the trees above us and tried to fall asleep again.

I figured we just needed to make it through the one night, and then we could laugh about it in the morning. A couple of minutes went by, and then the tent suddenly caved in on my husband's side, right on his head. He whispered to me and said that it felt like something was pushing the tent down. My heart instantly sank. We were freaking out.

I thought that it could be a bear that just sat on his head, but he decided to push back. When we heard the familiar noise of somebody sliding off of our tent, it was the same sound that we had been hearing for the past few hours. We then realized that it had been snowing outside and that the noise we heard hitting our tent was heavy ice falling from the trees. Our tent was covered in thick ice, and my husband pushed the tent from the inside,

until all of it slid off. Still determined to make it through the night, and a little relieved that it was just ice and not a bear, we tried to sleep and make it till sunrise. We lit a small light that my husband luckily had brought with him just in case, which calmed us down a bit. And just as things were starting to seem normal again, we both closed our eyes.

It was 3 a.m. at this point. not even 30 minutes after we had settled down my worst nightmare happened out of the pitch black night I heard a woman screaming we distinctly heard her scream saying what the fuck oh my god what the fuck

this was then followed by some unrecognizable words some of which included help the way that she was screaming didn't sound angry, it sounded like pure terror and panic. My husband and I were both frozen, looking at each other. I quickly shut off our light and started panicking, asking what we should do.

How was this happening? While we were trying to decide what to do, a few minutes went by, and we heard her again. But this time she was screaming no, over and over again, as a car sped off into the night. I was in tears at this point. we had no idea what was happening and it was dead silent after that save for the icy rain intermittently hitting her tent

it sounded like she wasn't in the car but more like she was desperately yelling after it or begging not to be hurt this was the breaking point I was able to accept the bad weather I was able to accept the possibility of a bear outside our tent

I was even able to accept having ice falling on our heads but one thing I could not and will never be able to handle is hearing a person screaming in the middle of the night in the pitch black woods at 3 a.m. So we decided to get out of there.

We even contemplated just leaving our tent and booking it for our car. But we tried to stay level-headed as we grabbed our valuables and put them in the car first. We were frantically gathering our things while staying close to one another

as we shuffled to our car. Then I got in the car and closed the door. I kept the lights off for a while since I was scared that it would attract some unwelcome visitors. While my husband went back to grab the tent, I started the car and called 911. I told them what I heard and where we were. They said that they were sending someone to the campsite to make sure that everything was okay. The only thing was, we were literally in the middle of nowhere, so it was definitely going to take them an hour or longer to arrive.

not to mention the storm left the gravel roads in terrible condition. By this point, it was 3.30 a.m., so my husband and I decided to start heading out. As we drove out of the campsite, my husband noticed one last eerie detail that stuck with me. The four guys that we had talked to earlier had left. All three of their cars were gone, while their tents remained. I'm not sure what scared them off. but they left in a hurry. It was only after we started driving that this thought occurred to me.

Whatever was walking next to our tent was likely not an animal. It seemed like it was someone who was just lurking around in the dark. From what we heard, it seemed like they decided to go after the girl that we had previously seen on our hike. I'm not quite sure what went down on that lone mountain that night. But I've always hoped that everyone got out of there okay. So to our unwelcome campsite guest that night, you were terrorizing us all. Let's not ever meet again.

Oh, and I called the police department back to follow up, but all I was told was that the officers searched the area for a few hours and spoke with a few people who were still there. However, they never found anything. The show's not over yet. This week we're giving you a free preview of the frequently talked about Patreon extension. So stick around just to see what's in store for you if you've been thinking about signing up

and supporting the show. Not only will you get to hear bonus stories like the ones we're sharing today, but you'll also get access to all of the Let's Not Meet episodes ad-free. It's the best way to listen to the show. You can sign up at patreon.com forward slash let's-not-meet podcast. I'll catch up with you at the end of this bonus section. Enjoy.

I'm a 25-year-old female from New England. I love this podcast, and I wanted to share this story. For whatever reason, I have encountered a multitude of true crime scenarios in my life, but I've learned to laugh this off as much as I can. My parents' marriage ended quite possibly the worst way it could. my mother worked as a screenwriter for a local news station at the time she was 43 years old my father served in the air force as a master sergeant he was 45 and often deployed or on base in our household during the summer my older half-sister was in charge of looking after me

and essentially raising me even though she was just a teenager herself i was nine she was my mother's biological child from a relationship that happened five years before she got into a relationship with my father. I am my father's only biological child. This consumed our home with aggressive tension and jealousy. No one ever coexisted all that well. My sister would attempt to shield me from their fights, but their screams and the furniture being thrown were noises that were difficult to muff. My father had most of his mental health issues. I have great memories of him being a good dad, but behind the curtain he was sick. Being the eldest of three brothers in a toxic Catholic household, he did not have an environment that encouraged him to ask for help. I hold no blame

for my grandparents for how they raised him, though. They were parenting to the best of their ability, even if it was flawed. Generational physical abuse has been rampant in my family. There are heroin addicts, alcoholics, fentanyl users, and even people who just generally need lots of help on several branches of the family tree. As an alcoholic and someone who misused their medication, my father was unfortunately one of them.

I never knew until after they died, but my parents were in the midst of a dangerous divorce. My mother was secretly having an affair with a local news reporter in our state. My father could be an asshole, but I see where my mother was wrong as well. The divorce was to be finalized a few months before my father made a life-altering decision. He killed my mother and then himself with a shotgun. My sister and I were both in the house when it happened. She heard everything, but I've always said I must have did.

disassociated, and put it in the brain vault. Some people suspected that my father drugged me to sleep through it, as I only remember my mother saying, Good night, I love you, I'll see you in the morning. And then my next memory after that was seeing three policemen standing in my bedroom doorway. My father's suicide letter to me was pages long. He started writing it months before ending his life.

The idea of completing a murder-suicide had crept into his head, and he was struggling to fight it. This is where the psychiatrist comes in. I didn't discover this until years after my parents' deaths, but I found out about this one day when I was in the car talking with my father's mother. She has since passed, but I do fill her spirit with me every day, and I miss her dearly. It was Christmas time, and we were heading back to her house from dinner. She confessed to me that my father's psychiatrist had been too focused on the child pornography on his computer so he wasn't fully taking care of his patients.

He was arrested in 2013 after the FBI had been monitoring his activity electronically for a year. He had thousands of images in his possession. My grandmother filed a lawsuit against him, which resulted in her winning and the restitution went to our estate. The court case lasted about six years. She claimed that his negligence,

in failing to diagnose my father, had led to my parents' deaths. Though I've come to understand that my father was responsible for his criminal actions, he was simultaneously not receiving the help that he needed. Do I put all the blame on the doctor? No.

Do I want to beat his ass to hell? Cuss him out, for him to be in jail for the rest of his life? Yes. Unfortunately, as far as I know, my father's doctor is alive and on release. As I mentioned, I'm now 25, living on a private estate with my cousin in a beautiful town. I'm lucky to have family to protect me from my unhinged ex-boyfriend and support my mental health as I'm starting a new career in helping with animals. Anyway, let's not ever meet again, Dr. Scumbag. The final story contains some references to animal abuse and assault.

Listener discretion is advised. I want to start on a lighter note before I get into the miserable details. I was legally adopted by my best friend's family at the age of 15. I'm 29 now. My home life was so desperate that my now guardians told me that if I didn't choose to come with them, child services would have gotten involved. Before this, I hadn't even known that anything was wrong with my life, but we'll get to that.

My new family has been my savior. I would not be here today if it weren't for their kindness and preservation. All of the people I'll mention from here on out were a part of my biological family that I mostly left behind. I grew up around a larger city in New York State with my two siblings,

whom I've kept in contact with. By the time I was adopted, we had lived in well over a dozen different apartments, subsidized housing, and trailers. My mother and her boyfriend, who is also my cousin, but we'll get into that, would consistently spend most, if not all of the government aid that my mother would receive on drugs. We only resided at locations long enough for them to miss rent, and then for the duration of the eviction. Roots infestations,

electric outages, and a lack of heat were all common occurrences. My two siblings were lucky enough to get out and move in with our maternal grandfather before entering high school. My mother and her boyfriend, aka my cousin, had an incestuous relationship. Thankfully, neither I nor my siblings were a product of that relationship. Our biological father would try to be in the picture when he had. could, but he was often in and out of jail, mostly for violating a restraining order from my mother for not paying child support. I have no doubt that he may have done some terrible things,

but my mother was very manipulative and was essentially a poster child against believing victims. She could have single-handedly derailed the Me Too movement. Now, my memories of my father are mostly good ones. I don't know how much safer I would have been if I were left in his care early on, but I digress. My mom's boyfriend's name was Joey. While I didn't necessarily know why, I always knew from a young age that I did not trust him. He was in and out of my early life, from the time I was maybe five or six until I was adopted. He was the type of person to manipulate, garner sympathy, and then do heinous stuff behind your back. He would steal money from my older siblings,

pawn the Christmas gifts that our grandfather would buy for us kids, and get angry when we ate the food that we got with our food stamps. He had absolutely no respect for children. As far as he was concerned, children were to be seen, not heard. We also were served as pawns for him to get money, and in return, he'd constantly scream at us and threaten to hit us. Joey and his mother taught us at a young age that stealing was not only a good thing

but they would belittle us if we didn't steal stuff that they wanted my eldest sibling was caught and held in jail for a few hours the other family members who were with him had left him behind while they escaped my eldest sibling was mislabeled as developmently delayed

in hindsight I don't doubt that Joey loved this because it meant that my mom would get even more government aid. This sibling had a few ticks. They wet their bed into their preteen years and often questioned why they were treated so poorly. My mother had told them as a teenager that she wished that she had aborted them. Instead of doing so, she did copious amounts of psychedelics and narcotics while pregnant. She was obviously not mentally stable. She essentially cited my eldest sibling as the unwanted life-ruining kid. My mother and Joey would only feed this sibling fruit loops,

and they would lock them in their bedroom as soon as they got home from school and wouldn't let them out until it was time to get on the bus the next day. Then, after locking my sibling away for hours, they would have the audacity to yell at them for not understanding personal hygiene. This was especially unfair as this sibling had not even been taught the actual process of how to take care of themselves because my mom was always too high or too angry to care. This sibling was the first to be freed.

And I say that literally, as my mother screamed and fought to try and get them back from our grandfather, who was able to overcome her when he threatened to get the police involved. She was chronically high and neglected us, so this threat. made her reluctantly back down. My next sibling, my mother's middle child, was forced to learn how to work on cars and started working illegally at the age of 11. Joey and his father would take a client's car, say that they were the ones working on it,

and then hand it off to a literal child. This sibling was my protector, we'll call him Jay. Jay would take the brunt of the physical and verbal abuse from my mother and her boy. boyfriend. When they were getting ready to hurt me, he would jump in and take it instead. He would also get into screaming matches with them. I suspect that Jay was sexually abused, but he's never specified that. Not even to this day. I remember that Joey would pull down Jay's pants and pull out a literal BDSM paddle and beat him while he screamed, cried, and tried to get away. This was all

in front of my mother, who was within arm's reach. She would even laugh as this was happening. I also suspected that Jay was abused by Joey's sister. Jay started working out with bricks and eventually upgraded to weights after our grandpa had given them to him. When he became stronger than Joey, it was stopped. We were all exposed to the general idea of sex at a very young age. As such, we were unruly children to the public eye because we would swear and make vulgar remarks that we truly didn't understand. We also never had our hair and teeth brushed, which drew even more attention. One day after child services had once again contacted my mom. I remembered she'd gone up with us in the morning and for the first time, she yanked the brush

through my matted hair. It took so long for her to clean me up. that I wound up missing the bus for school that day. My mother had a weird sense of amusement and entertainment. She would put condiments in her hand and wait for us to walk around corners, and then she would slap us with them, or she would just straight up hunt us down and hit us, then force the condiments into our mouths. This was ridiculous, and we always had a visceral reaction to it.

We always vomited whenever this happened. Eventually, when Joey began living full-time with us, like a parasite, he would encourage this behavior. After he was officially part of our household, this abusive behavior escalated to both of them, pulling our hair, punching us, and pushing us to the ground. The physical abuse didn't stop until one day when my mother hit Jay in front of our grandfather. He threatened that if she so much as slapped him again, he would personally wrangle her to the ground. This was an act of caring and protection, albeit a literal threat. My grandfather was in a gang until he was in his 30s.

He had participated in some heinous stuff himself, so this threat worked for a while. Joey and my mother would then only hit us when my grandfather wasn't in town to see it happen. my grandfather would try to take us on weekends as long as possible but he wasn't well off financially and he lived pretty far away however jay was eventually taken away from my mother and joey to permanently stay with our grandfather by the time i was a preteen i was the only one left my grandpa would have taken me as well if he could but he lived in a trailer at the time and there just weren't

enough bedrooms for him to accommodate housing a girl Honestly, I would have rather shared a room with one of my male siblings. This would have been preferable to living with Joey. Joey, as it turned out, was a pedophile, and he has, to my knowledge, never served a single day in prison for the abuse that he dulled out. Before entering a relationship with my mom, he had assaulted his younger sister regularly. It stopped when she got pregnant in her early teens. this would-be kid did not survive to term.

Joey himself was abused by his mother as a child in his teen years, so to him all of this was normal. That being said, I do not doubt that he was grooming me for a day when my mother was no longer in the picture. There were points in my life when my mother was so unstable that I would have to live with my cousins for months at a time. my aunt Joey's mother had other girls and she'd agreed to take me in I'm sure she was benefiting by getting either drugs or food stamps from my mom

but I was far too young to know what the trade-off actually was this aunt would cause bouts of hell for me she would force me and her two youngest daughters to take sleeping medication that was prescribed to her we all had to sleep in her bed and her husband husband, my mother's brother, would sleep in a bunk bed somewhere else in the house. To complicate things even more, the man that she was married to wasn't Joey's father. Joey was a product of a previous marriage, but his father was somehow related to my uncle. Anyway, back to my aunt. This woman was the most vile person I have ever known.

she would pretend to have everyone's best interests at heart only to then expose their secrets and steal their government checks she also belittled people until they felt like they were nothing she was especially this way towards children however being a girl I was useful in her eyes my two siblings were older they saw right through all of her ploys early on I distinctly remember being excited for Christmas morning at my aunt's house one year. I must have been around seven years old. My grandfather had put a huge present on layaway from me and my siblings. I was so excited to finally open it and feel special

and included. But when Christmas morning came around, I remember seeing a smaller box. It was filled with used VHS tapes. My aunt lied to me and everyone else and said that my grandpa ended up returning the gift and got these quote cool movies instead i bawled my eyes out at my grandpa's perceived betrayal she even added he doesn't care about you he only cares about boys girls were useful to her though as i said they were easier targets for her manipulation she would give me the motherly attention i so desperately needed and failed to get at that age she even made me suspicious of my other family members, which made me feel like some sort of spy. My uncle, her husband, had his own quirks. In general, he wasn't a very intelligent man.

In hindsight, I'm sure this is why she married him. My uncle would work manual labor jobs and fork over his paychecks to her. He spent most of his free time playing Diablo, which I guess is a rad game, but this made my female cousins and me feel like we just weren't worth his time. He would also make these sexually explicit remarks to my aunt's oldest sister and to me. He even targeted his own two girls when we became unresponsive to his remarks. He would accuse us all of being little sluts and other things that weren't known by children our age. He also started rumors about my oldest siblings, whenever he could, to further cut them off from the rest of the family.

According to him, once anyone moved in with our grandfather or otherwise removed themselves from the family, they were considered a traitor. The phrase, blood is thicker than water, was thrown out as often as possible. They used religion as an excuse to keep it in the family, which kept outsiders from knowing the sick shit that was going on. By the time I entered junior high, my mother had tried to move me and her away from Joey. The three of us had still been living in the city at the time, and she wanted to escape the physical abuse that he was doling out to her.

In addition to being incestuous, their relationship was incredibly toxic. My grandpa agreed to let us move into his trailer in a smaller town on the condition that she would leave Joey for good. She swore up and down that she would, so we made. moved into his living room. But then, a month or so later, that leech was back in our lives. My mom was eager to take him back, and they teamed up to steal medications and other valuables from my grandfather. My grandfather grew tired of this quickly, so he bought an entirely new trailer just to get away from them. He was essentially chased out of his own home. He brought my two

siblings with him to his new trailer, but once again, I had to stay with my mom and Joey. They were treating me so well at the time, since I was conditioned to generally go along with whatever they wanted. Honestly, I was doing this in hopes of appeasing them and getting rare affection or positive affirmations from them. But then, just like all of the other places where they had lived, they eventually lost that trailer too. For some unknown reason, the person who owned the trailer park allowed Joey to buy another trailer on his lot so we ended up moving just across the street.

I had such a horrible and tumultuous living experience in that trailer, and I still have terrible nightmares of those ten boxes. The first and only dog we ever had ended up dying there due to physical abuse from Joey. Later, after I was adopted, my eldest sibling found out that Joey had been keeping the poor dog's rotten remains in the shed so that he could keep the bones. My poor sibling discovered it one day when he went to look for something in the shed.

My sibling confronted Joey about this, and Joey made them keep it a secret. Once I turned 15, my best friend's mom told me to apply to a place that she worked. I was hired as a part-time employee, and everyone there absolutely loved me. Due to our overlapping shifts and the fact that my best friend was also in the same trailer park, she had found out about how I had been living. I didn't realize it, but due to my environment, I always smelled like cat urine, burnt pot resin, or kerosene. Around this time, Joey had been taking all of the money going to my mother and spending it on gold coins and garbage that he claimed he was going to sell and make

fortune on. It cluttered our tiny trailer so much that it became a hoarder household. My room wasn't spared from this either, so it eventually became a storage unit that I slept in. The final straw from my best friend's parents was when I told them that I would soon have to start handing over the money that I was getting from my part-time job to fix the heater. We hadn't had heat in the middle of winter for two months. My best friend's mom was certain that once I started handing money over to Joey, it would never stop, and I would become just another avenue of income for him. At that point, Joey and my mother were constantly screaming at each other about sex and how my mother didn't put out anymore. Joey had started

looking at me differently, and I could feel the vibes coming off of him. This scared the shit out of me. My best friend's parents discussed it for a good long while, and during a weekend when I visiting them, they told me all about the predicament I hadn't known that I had been in. They stepped in right away, and the legal battle was rough. As this was happening, there were occurrences where I would get stalked by my cousins, and then they'd get stalked by Joey and my mother, who were pretending to suddenly care enough about me to get me to come back home. The final straw with my mother for me happened just before I hung up during a phone call. I thought maybe she wanted to talk, but she was only calling me to ask what the password was for the laptop that my grandfather had bought for me.

Joey had stolen it and turned it into his personal, crusty sock rack. That was the last day I ever talked to her directly. I remember the last day in court. The case was looking like we'd not only win, but it also looked like Joey and my mother were going to face criminal charges for their drugs. possession and drug use. This was a big deal since emancipating from a family or getting adopted as a teenager is almost unheard of. My mom and Joey tried to sabotage everything at the last minute by trying to spin the story and say that I was trying to run off with some boy. They also screamed profanities at me, my

guardians, and our lawyer. But the court didn't side with them and I was finally free. My saving grace was that despite how I was raised and the abuse that the three of us went through, my siblings and I turned out all right. We had positive role models in school and through our grandfather. I never once did drugs, was forced into sex work, or had a child against my will. I am very grateful to the people in my life and my siblings' lives, who didn't give up on us even when child protective services did. As a bonus, about one month ago, years after not seeing or talking to any of my family other than my siblings, my uncle was arrested for murder.

This was a murder that he committed in 1992. My aunt was also arrested for driving into a 7-Eleven and injuring three kids. Luckily none of them died. My aunt was unscathed from the accident, and I'm glad that both she and her husband are finally behind bars where they belong. I don't know the fate of Joey, but I assume he's been caught up and more of the same. My mother ended her life on my birthday when I was in college as a final punishment for leaving her clutches. Thanks for listening, and if you want to continue listening to bonus stories like these every week, and you want to support the show, sign up at patreon.com.

this week you have heard beware the sympathy trap by zealous ideal bat 745 creepy guy on the way to college by felix night market nuisance by chokie dog sitting and gross abuse of free wifi by astroponies how i was nearly kidnapped as a child by idk 11140 this messed with me more than i expected by feisty donut 8-119. I heard a whistle late last night by Lumpy Artichoke 030. Camping will be fun by the real Sacagawea. Family from hell by Alia and finally my father's psychiatrist was arrested by Shannon. All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. Let's not meet a true horror podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. If you have a story to share, make sure you send it to

Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. And follow my other podcasts like Odd Trails in the old-time radiocast at Crypticcountypodcasts.com and see my live streams at twitch.tv slash cryptic County. We'll see you all next week. Everybody stay safe. I'm going to be. I'm going to be. You know, I'm going to be able to You know,

I'm sorry. You know, it's