Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 2x12: Babysitter - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: September 2, 2019

Stories in this episode: Stranger at a Car Accident in India - missmadime My boss was a homeless man - TinderGuy11 Tank Lid - Jennifairie Babysitting story - anon request Follow Let's Not Meet: Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/  Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast  Website - http://letsnotmeetpodcast.com  Patreon - http://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast  Twitch - https://www.twitch.tv/crypticcounty    

This episode is made possible by PWC. It's getting hot out here. Are you prepared for a more sustainable future? Critical climate challenges require critical thinking. Move from theory to action with a human-led tech-powered approach that can move the needle on the mercury, but also help you build trust and drive positive change for your business and for our planet.

ESG is part of the new equation. Learn more at thenewequation.com. My name is Andrew Tate and this is season 2 episode 12 of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast. 12 of Let's Not Meet the True Horror Podcast. So this was two to three years ago in India. My father and I were driving home from a wedding. I don't know how much you all know about weddings over there, but this was a three day event that involved the entirety of two middle of nowhere, nothing villages. It was a huge deal, and we were the only white people the majority of these folks had ever seen.

That meant near constant attention, no relaxation or any time to ourselves, and sleep came in the form of a concrete slab of a bed with a thin blanket over it. Nestled snugly, between apparently every drunk uncle the village could hold, all passionately arguing for hours about something in Hindi. I think it was maybe the music, which also constantly blared from concert-sized speakers through the whole village. It was safe to say, by the time we left the wedding, we were already extremely sleep deprived

and out of it. This isn't even the fun part though. Through an odd chain of events that isn't totally related to the story, while driving home on a single lane road that had traffic in both directions, dodging donkey carts, groups of scooters and other drivers, at about 120 kilometers per hour, we get in a head-on collision. I remember realizing what was going to happen a few seconds before it did, closing my eyes, loosening my body, making sure my tongue would be okay, and then bam! The world turned upside down, and then again and again, and one more time.

Our car flipped four times, landing upside down in an overgrown field near the spot of the accident. The other car was mostly gone and what was left of it was still on the road. Glass was everywhere, my dad was unconscious, my clothes were ripped to shreds, and there were suddenly voices all around me. I remember being extremely confused and dazed, and I heard. Why did I hurt?

Dozens of people had apparently stopped to flip the car back over to help the American tourists. A few people pulled me out through the left hand, broken window, and immediately went back in to help my father on the driver's side. I extremely confused, exhausted, and scared.

Most likely, concussed. I later found out, definitely concussed, wandered over to the road and the other demolished car. I could hear a siren in the distance. An ambulance? Maybe the cops? I didn't pay attention. I also didn't know where my shoes were.

Suddenly a man had his arms around my shoulders and was ushering me to an unknown white car, a small distance from the wreck. I'll take you to the hospital," he said. I asked where my father was and a few other questions he mostly ignored me. My father was, and a few other questions he mostly ignored me. He's fine. Come on. He pushed me forward. And in a days I followed asking about my things, my shoes, my dad. All I had was my phone, which was still in death grip of my hand.

He ignored me. Do not worry, hurry, get in the car. I did as I was told, though I remember asking a few more times about my shoes. I was barefoot and limping. I remember being focused on my right foot. How it wouldn't work. Basically ignoring the guy guiding me away from the accident and the rest of the people. Why did it hurt so much?

And where was my back? The man urged me forward some more, making promises that things were fine. He had them already. Just get in the car. I was barely paying attention, slowly following. Where was my dad? At that point, I guess the man decided I wasn't moving fast enough. He wrenched my phone from my hand, maneuvered me into the back seat and slammed the door behind me. He was walking around to the driver's side when an ambulance pulled up. I struggled with the door, saying I'll get to the ambulance instead, that my dad must

be there. And where were my things? No! He slammed the door again, logging at this time. Be quiet!" At this point I started crying, and was still confused trying to open the unlocked door, blubbering that I needed my things. He insisted he was helping and to shut up. He just kept telling me to shut up.

He rushed around, opened the driver's side door, and was about to get in when I heard an almost roar-like sound erupt to my left. Suddenly my father was there bleeding, limping, and ignoring the chaos all around us, and angrier than I had ever seen him. Get my fucking daughter out of your fucking car." He grabbed the man who was halfway into the vehicle at this point and threw him to the ground, unlocked the back door, and rushed around to pull me out. Dad, where are my shoes? Does he still have my phone? But obviously, ask to thin air as my father was already back a few feet away shouting his hands around the man's throat, demanding my phone.

With a terrified look, the man pulled it out of his pocket and threw it several feet away, causing my dad to drop him on the pavement in one swift motion and bound after this device. At that point, the man hurriedly climbed into his car and sped away while I made my way to the back of the waiting ambulance, still not processing what had just happened. My dad materialized on the bench next to me a few seconds later, my cracked phone in his hand, and he enveloped me in a huge hug while saying how scared he was, the paramedics moving all around us, securing everything and preparing to drive to the hospital. Everything after that is a story for another time, but random Indian man who most likely tried

to abduct me from the accident, let's not meet again. Back in 2007 I found myself working as a bartender at a now closed pub in my hometown. Now this was not a job that I particularly liked, but it paid the bills. At this time, they had hired a new kitchen manager that we all simply knew as Kerny. Kerny was a pleasant enough man, mostly keeping to himself, but always stayed late to help the bar man

do our closing duties. So we all liked him for that. New in town, Kerny had yet to find a place of permanent residence, and I had recently lost my tenants, so someone suggested he asked me. He was considerably older than the tenants that I usually took in, but having a streak of bad luck with tenants my own age, I thought an older man with a nice steady job may be a shift in the right direction, so I agreed.

Kerney wasted no time and followed me home that very same night. Only he wasn't alone. Enter Lawrence, the boyfriend of Kerney. Honestly, I hadn't even realized that he was gay up to that point, but was water off in my back regardless. Looking back now, what really should have bothered me was Lawrence's appearance. He looked like he had been sleeping on the street, rather appropriately, as I would later find out.

So Karini moved in. Lawrence was there a lot too, and it was easy to know when due to his mobile ringtone sounding like the quacking of a duckling. Karini had some habits that were rather noteworthy to this story. In particular, one, he basically never closed his bedroom door, no matter what he was doing in there. It was always open. And two, although he was a very heavy smoker, he never once smoked inside.

So Kernie had been living there for about two weeks when I'd come down with an awful case of pink eye. This being highly contagious. I was given a leave of absence from my bartending job and therefore decided to go wait it out at my sisters for a few days. Apparently I didn't mind giving it to her. Sorry sis. So the day that my sister was scheduled to come pick me up, no I couldn't drive yet.

I took a casual stroll into the bar that myself and Ben worked at. Ben was a good friend from high school, and at that time a coworker that had been building in my house, and something caught my eye. All of our liquor bottles were completely empty. Now those who had been frequenting my house at the time, would know that we weren't just talking about one or two bottles of brandy here. But bottles of whiskey, gin, vodka, schnapps, liquors, basically it was a fully stocked bar that could host a pretty big party without requiring much in the way of additions. So I called Kernian, asking him what he knew about this, receiving feedback that Lawrence and he had been on a slight drinking bench. Those were his actual words that he used.

That had left me both furious about the thousands of dollars worth of stock that they had drunk out, but also slightly impressed that he was actually still alive. Regardless, I said that I will be dealing with this upon my return. So I'm with my sister for a few days and on Friday I get a call from the local police department asking if I know a conrad sholts. Ironically enough I didn't, they finally add that I will probably know him as kerney and that I should probably come down to the station, as they had arrested his boyfriend, trying to sell my camera equipment. So my sister rushes me back to the police department, where my camera equipment was all on

display. It's on this visit that I was informed that Lawrence was actually a Navy SEAL who got dishonorably discharged before turning to a life of crime and now had a rap sheet the length of the Bible. The kicker was that both he and Kerni were actually homeless men who had met at the salvation army. So Lawrence is in jail and my sister drops me off at home more or less the same time that Kerni gets home as well.

Based on Kerni's account of what had happened, he had turned Lawrence in himself, as he couldn't allow Lawrence to do to me what he was trying to do. Although I had appreciated his sacrifice, I still told Bernie that he would have to go, having been the overall cause of all of this, however not wanting to leave this man homeless. I gave him until the end of the month to make other arrangements. So Monday comes, and having just completed my staff meeting, I walk home to encounter a very much free Lawrence sitting on the sidewalk across from my house, just watching it.

I confront Lawrence as to why he's there and he tries to apologize before begging for money. Rather, out of character, really, I dismissed him without giving him a scent. Now I go back to the previous night, see, I had mentioned the staff meeting for a reason, as it was that meeting where we had gotten a rather sizable list of liquor bottles that had gone missing from the store room, leaving us all suspecting each other. I, however, would not have to wait long to figure out who the real culprit was. As a few days later, I opened the garbage bin in my kitchen to see the missing bottles,

all empty staring back at me. I decided to sit on this information for the time being, although I did photograph it, just in case I needed it as evidence for later. I also called over Ben to inform him of the developments, as this was quickly becoming a detective game. We decided to enter Karnie's room to search for further evidence. Nothing of vast significance in there, with one exception, two single photographs of Lawrence before he turned into the homeless version of Lex Luthor, or Charles Xavier. Actually, there were several of Lawrence's things still there, but as Lawrence had spent

most of his time there before this incident, I accepted this as normal. Now, I should also add that I had mentioned Lawrence's release to Kerni, and had told him that if I even suspected that if they were still seeing each other I would throw him out of the house myself. Only a few days would pass before this came into play. On this particular night I had been bar tending again, and Kernney had constantly been stopping by the bar to help himself to, glasses half full of wine and half full of coke, which he would go drink outside of the restaurant. We confronted him about this, but as he correctly pointed out, he was still a manager, and we had no right to tell him what he could or could not do.

On his fourth trip, however, I had grown suspicious and decided to follow him outside where I encountered Lawrence, sitting outside, sharing the half-cook, half-wine, concoctions with Kerni. This pissed me off, so the next day I returned to the restaurant with my photographic evidence that I handed over to the general manager, who was also kind of a friend of mine. Although I hadn't physically seen it, I had heard the confrontation through the office door when he fired Kerni. Kerni left, obviously upset, and apparently had no idea that I had been the one

who had turned him in. So, we closed early that night, and I was walking home, going past the high school. When I saw Kerni coming from the opposite direction, he walked past me, literally only saying two words. I'm scared. Before disappearing into the darkness, that would be the last time that I would ever physically lay eyes on Conrad Schultz. So we reached the final week before kerney's eviction was going to take place.

Ben had come to stay with me for that duration as we both wanted to monitor the situation and make sure that nothing else happens. It was in this week that Kernie's behavior suddenly changed. He was constantly smoking in his room and his door was closed 24-7. In fact, neither Ben nor I had caught so much as a peek of him, and that entire last week, which we hadn't thought much of at that time. So the day of Kernie's eviction comes around, Ben had gone home for a few hours and I finally hear Kernie's bedroom door open, and someone walks out, opens the front door and leaves.

I follow him outside, but somehow he had already completely disappeared. What was left, though, were his house keys, indicating that he obviously wasn't planning to come back. I took a look at his keys, noticing something strange. Although the correct keys were on the key chain, there were several that weren't mine. Why would he leave me the wrong keys? I remember myself thinking this as I walked into his room. His room was a shock because not of the state that it was in. The two had broken his bed in an active wild monkey sex, but I had known about this already.

As I said, he never closed the damn door. But it was more that he had literally left almost all of his belongings behind. With one exception, he guessed it. The two photographs of Lawrence. Upon further investigation, I suddenly realized that all traces of Lawrence ever being there had completely vanished, with all of Kerney's stuff left behind. There was one thing of Lawrence's left behind though. His fucking ringtone, which turned out that it hadn't been so much of a ringtone as an actual duckling,

which now strolled around casually in this vacant bedroom. We named him Neville. So Ben returns and gets updated about the developments, both of us thinking that the way he left was rather weird, of course, the whole thing had been weird. It was only when I asked the infamous question that all of this became a conspiracy theory. Did you ever actually see Kernie in the last week? It was to our shock that we realized that neither of us had. Suddenly putting puzzle pieces together, the changing habits,

neville, the duck, the wrong keys, only Lawrence's stuff being gone. It was to great discomfort that we both asked the question, who had really been living in our house this last week. During the last few days, Ben and I went on a mission searching the town, crawling into drain pipes, trying to find any trace of kernees whereabouts, but they all added up to nothing. Conrad Schultz had simply vanished off the face of the earth. That wasn't the case with Lawrence, though. Now, he was still around, having made some new homeless friends. We encountered him several

times begging in the streets. I asked him every time, where's Kerny Lawrence? But he acted, like he had never even heard of him. The last time I would see Lawrence was across from work attempting to break into a car. I had called the police on him and they arrived rather quickly, arresting him on the spot. While he was being led away by the police, I shouted after him one last time. Where's Kernie Lawrence? But he just ignored me and let the cops drag him away. The next day I filed a police report.

Reporting Kerni as a missing person and suggesting that Lawrence may know something about it, but nothing ever came of it. So Lawrence, I don't know if you did something to Kerni or not, but if you did, let's not meet again. Oh, by the way, for those of you asking about Neville the Duck, we kept him for quite a while, but due to the malnourishment he had received his first few months, he never grew and ultimately passed away. Also for those of you wondering, if anything came of the case, unfortunately not, I should

probably add that South Africa has a unique way of closing cases. As in, after a month or two, they just send you a text saying, case closed due to lack of evidence of case closed with no arrests. I didn't get one in this case, but I did get one in an armed robbery I fell victim to back in 2017. So not too hopeful that they did too much. Regarding Lawrence, I saw him one more time after him getting arrested. He was only locked up for about a week. After that though, he disappeared.

Not sure if he left town or got arrested again. 18T Fiber presents A Straight Forward Moment You're wine? Thanks. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good. And I'll pretend I don't know you're pretending. Are you a gigillionaire? Yeah, I have 18T Fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward. Me too. Ugh, this wine. I'll fetch you a gigillionaire? Yeah, I have AT&T fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward.

Me too. Ugh, this wine. I'll fetch you a better one. Straight forward is better. No equipment fees, no data caps, no price increase at 12 months. Live like a gigillionaire with AT&T fiber. Limited availability in select areas. Visit AT&T.com slash Hypergate for details.

I was 10 years old when we moved into a new apartment. It was in a bad neighborhood. My mom, who was 8 months pregnant at the time, had no choice in the matter. We had just been released from a domestic violence shelter, and turning down a cheap house was not an option. No matter if it were in the ghetto or not. Our first and last day living there goes as follows. After we were dropped off, we claimed our bedrooms, even though we had nothing but a few garbage bags full of clothes. And then there was not a single piece of furniture, not even a bed. I claimed the upstairs because it was a cool idea to have two floors.

I imagined running downstairs and catching the school bus. My eight-year-old brother chose the room right next to mine. My five-year-old sister was sharing a room with our mom downstairs. It was right beside the front door. After our excitement wore down, we had to walk to the grocery store since we didn't have food either. While I was reading the magazines, I casually saw a cell phone that had been left on the racks. At the time, 2001, very few people had them. Definitely not people like us. I picked it up and found my mom. I showed her, with

my face shocked. She immediately put it in her purse. I became angry at her. I knew this wasn't the right thing to do. We should tell the manager of the store or wait by the magazines and see if someone comes back to find it. Nope. My mom told me to hush and continued to shop. She wasn't a thief and never saw her steal anything before then. I was still a little mad at her when we arrived back to our new home. We all obviously started taking turns with the phone playing the classic game snake when When it came time to sleep, we literally piled all of our clothes on my mom's floor. It was the only thing that we could use

for a bed. Us kids were goofing around on our palette, and my mom was in the living room. That's when we heard the banging on the front door. Someone was screaming to let them in the house. A male voice. An unknown voice. Banging and kicking at the door. He screamed. Let me in or I'll kill you." My mom grabbed the phone and immediately called 911.

After she told them the address and information, she urgently said before hanging up, hurry, or we'll all die. She ran us to the bedroom and told us to hide in the closet, and she slammed the door behind her. Of course, me being 10 I immediately opened it back up just enough to see through and see what was happening. I didn't see my mom, the kicking and banging kept getting faster and louder. He was shouting. I know someone's in there, open this fucking door!

My mom came out of the bathroom, holding the lid to the toilet tank above her head. She stood by the entrance of the door, waiting for him to eventually break in. Her face was frozen in the most serious expression. She was focused, holding this object, almost like a tennis racket. She didn't really move at all. Ready to do something she probably never imagined that she would do. Attack a stranger. And maybe even kill him.

She never said a word back to him. Or to us. I saw their headlights before I heard them. The man was still cursing while the police subdued him. He sounded different though, disappointed and defeated. The cops then opened up our door. I think he had just finished breaking it enough to come inside. My mom was still holding the tank lid in her warrior tennis stance. The cop calmly took it away from my mom and said it's okay, we've got him. Within two seconds, she burst into tears and fell to her knees crying and thanking them. After

we all hugged and calmed down a little, a cop offered to stay in patrol until sunrise, and they told my mom something in confidence. She shared with me years later that the stranger was a registered sex offender with previous burglary charges as well. The next morning, we got picked up by a family friend. We ended up staying with her until we found a safer place to live. Right before my mom gave birth to my brother, I don't know why he picked our apartment, or why he tried so hard to get in. I don't know why he picked our apartment or why he tried so hard to get in.

I don't know why he picked our apartment or why he tried so hard to get in. I don't know why he picked our apartment or why he tried so hard to get in. I don't know why he picked our apartment or why he tried so hard to get in. I don't know why he picked our apartment or why he tried so hard to get in.

When I was around 15, I started babysitting a family with three kids, two boys, one girl. Their mom knew me as the oldest was friends with my little brother and had asked my mom if I could help out just because she had started taking on more shifts and her husband was doing the same. They lived right next to my high school and paid well so I agreed despite not really having that much experience. Pretty quickly I realized that it was going to be difficult.

The kids were great, but I was nervous around them. The oldest was fine. He just played Xbox most of the time and did homework, but the other two youngest were a different story. The middle child, the daughter, was completely obsessed with horror movies, and on more than one occasion, I had to hide the knives from her since she wanted to re-enact them, and the youngest son tried to set fire to the Christmas tree once. I know what kids can be like since I have a lot of younger and older cousins, but these

ones drove me insane. I would constantly worry about them hurting themselves or each other. If they played up, I would threaten to call their mom, which would normally work. It was after a few months that I realized that if I would mention their dad, then they would just behave and do what I asked so that's what I started doing. Now I never really met the dad. I just knew that the guy was really tall and large, but was always described to me as still being really nice, so I never thought about it.

On this occasion, I had said to the youngest boy that I would call his dad if he didn't stop misbehaving, which resulted in a huge tantrum. So I ended up calling him and explaining. Luckily for me, the dad was getting off of work early. So he said that he would get home as quickly as he could and apologized for the kid's behavior. When I explained this, the kid was sobbing

and ended up blocking himself in the room. That day, the dad got home and they weren't joking when they said he was tall. Now I'm only 5'3", and I was 15 when I saw him having to crouch a little just to get through the door because of his size. And I remember thinking, oh shit, no wonder the kids won't misbehave when he's there. I said hi and apologized for the work call, which he brushed off and said that it needed to be done and not to worry.

We were both sat on the couch. I can't really remember why, but I think we were talking about what days that they needed me for. Now at this point, the two youngest had gone outside to play while I was in with the oldest, as I had just been tidying up a little from dinner. I was pretty weirded out because the oldest started to get pretty antsy when asked to go

to the shop. He kept making excuses to his dad, so I offered to go. I could see the dad visibly frustrated and wanted to defuse the situation. Now I would like to point out that everything seemed normal at this point, but I remember feeling really intimidated by the dad. I had only met him this one time, and spoke for no more than 20 minutes. It turns out that the oldest had said to his mom that he didn't want me left alone with his dad, as he had apparently been

watching me a little too closely during our short encounter. The parents had asked me to babysit later on in the week, which I had agreed to. However, in the space of just a few days, that quickly changed. I got a text from the mom apologizing for the last minute arrangements, but saying that I couldn't babysit. I was a little agitated since I had changed plans, but wasn't too bothered and just said that it was fine, and to let me know when she needs me. As I was in the house, I could tell something was off, but not wanting to pry. I just went in to say

hi, talked about books for a little bit, and left. It wasn't until the next week, I think, or the week after, that everything kicked off. I came home to my mom being upset and angry, pacing the living room while my stepdad was trying to calm her down. I immediately went to her asking what was wrong, feeling a little worried. Instantly, she just threw her arms around me and started crying and holding me. I had meant to be babysitting, but again, got canceled on, so I was home earlier than what I had originally said. Pulling away confused, I asked her what was wrong again.

It turns out my mom had been trying to get a hold of me, but my phone had died. I had went to babysit and nobody was home, so I just decided to head back on the bus, but wasn't able to let my mom know. She sits me down and starts trying to ask me questions about the dad, and my time babysitting. Confused, I had mentioned that I had only met him once, and only really spoke to him on the phone a handful of times when the kids were acting up. Notting, my mom started pressing on and asking if anything else had happened, and kept questioning me, saying, I could tell her anything. I just looked at her confused and told her that

nothing had happened, and asked what this was all about. I always remember her taking a deep breath and saying, oh thank God, before letting me know what did happen. Now, as I said, the details are vague because this was on the news. Turns out, the guy had killed someone while working and had been taken in by the police. During interrogation it turns out that he admitted to beating his wife, and there was speculations of assault. There was also mention that one of his types were petite girls that had dark hair, pale skin, which happened to match my description at the time, and my mom was terrified in case something might have happened.

I'm turning 23 this year, and it still gives me the shivers. I remember feeling like I was going to throw up, and I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. My mom helped me close, crying, because she was worried sick all day day and scared in case something had happened. Needless to say, I stopped babysitting for the family right there and then. I had felt so awful for the wife as she was honestly one of the nicest women I had ever met. About a week later, I got a text from her and it turns out I had left some books, so I had said that I would go get them after the phone call.

When I saw her, my heart sank. She had obviously not slept and was putting on a brave face for the kids who weren't sure what was going on. We ended up sitting in the kitchen and I gave her a hug, just trying to comfort her. I had mentioned that if she needed help with the kids since he was gone, I would try, but she immediately refused, as it turned out, people had started attacking the house. She gave me my stuff, paid for the wages, with a little more added. I had completely forgot about, and said that she appreciated it, but it would be better

off if I just took a step back from the family as she didn't want me getting hurt from being associated with them. To this day, I still think about them, and it scares me. After thinking about what could have happened, I still talk with the younger kids who are a lot older and have even helped tutor their younger girl. I helped the oldest when he started high school because I noticed the kids bullying him of what his dad had done, which was awful considering it wasn't the fault of the family. But yeah, let's not meet Yusikopath. Thank you for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast.

This outro has been recently re-recorded as some changes were made at the request of an author for safety or privacy reasons. The credits for this week's show are all still available in the show notes. 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 you'd like to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Thanks for listening. See you next time. with the ultra-strong trash bags with the joyfully clean scent of fabulous salt!

Wow! Smells like rainbow's and unicorns! Happy, happy, happy, happy! Well, that turned out better than when I tried to split my assistant in half. New hefty ultra-strong trash bags with fabulous oescent, so strong, so joyful, it must be magic. AT&T Fiber presents A Straight Forward Moment You're wine? Thanks. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good. And I'll pretend I don't know you're pretending.

Are you a Gigillionaire? Yeah, I have AT&T Fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward. Me too. Ugh, this wine. I'll fetch you a better one. Straight forward is better. No equipment fees, no data caps, no price increase at 12 months.

Live like a Gagillionaire with AT&T Fiber. Limited availability in select areas. Visit ATT.com slash Hypergig for details.