Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 5x06: The Woman On The Roof - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: December 14, 2020

Stories in this episode: - Last Gas Station On The Left - Alex. - New In Town Nightmare - bcloud9. - Nearly Kidnapped When I Was 15 - Mandy The Strange. - Disturbed Maintenance Man - Tara Pryka. - The Mother Who Lost It - Johnny5Alive. - Two Unforgettable Neighbors - Eric. 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. To hear your story on the show, send it to [e-mail]. Get 50% off your first Feals CBD order and free shipping when you become a member at Feals.com/meet. To try Shudder free for 30 days, go to shudder.com and use promo code meet. Follow Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast. - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/  - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast  - Website - http://letsnotmeetpodcast.com  - Patreon - http://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/

Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal government professionals. From courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualized coaching services, to programs at home, your leadership skills, and business acumen. Management concepts optimizes your professional development. Online in-person, individually, or groups. It's training that's measurably better. Learn more at managementconcepts.com. That's managementconcepts.com. This podcast contains adult language and content.

The stories in this show can be frightening and disturbing for some. Listener discretion is advised. If you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Enjoy the show. A story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Enjoy the show. My name is Andrew Tate, and this is season five,

episode six of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … My name is Alex and this takes place in 2017 when I was 19 years old. I went to college in Maine, and the winter pretty much the only thing to do is ski. My roommate Sam and I are avid skiers and go almost every weekend during the season. Our university is a little over two hours away from our favorite ski mountain, so we always leave early in the dark winter mornings to be sure to get a full day of skiing in. We usually stop on the way for some Dunkin' Donuts, and we have to stop halfway there to get gas from my roommates' blue Jeep. These rides are always half the fun of these ski trips. It's literally two hours of

sing-alongs and long-life talks, with lots of laughter between two best friends. This one particular day last year, Sam and I were almost to the mountain, but her car needed more gas. She waits until the last possible minute to fill up her tank. She's one of those people who will say, I know my car, it has enough when the red gaslight blinks on. So we pull off the highway in the middle of nowhere main to the first gas station that we see. This town and everything that happened next is something straight out of a Stephen King novel.

It was very old looking. You couldn't even tell if it was open, just a run-down old gas station. Not a brand-name gas station either, just a local looking place. Now of course after both chugging large coffees, we have to go to the bathroom, so we head inside. The inside looks normal enough, and the middle aged woman at the counter seems normal enough as well. So no red flags set us off to how fucking strange this place actually was. Sam asked the woman where the restroom was and she pointed down this long dark hallway that was in the back corner of the store

Which looked like it led to offices further down the hall First door on the right, the woman told her. So Sam went off to the bathroom first while I was checking out the snacks. I'm in the back, close to where the hall that she pointed out is, and all of a sudden, I heard the most blood curdling. Hair standing up on the back of your neck, gut dropping scream. It sounded like something straight out of a horror movie. It didn't exactly sound like a person either, but definitely not an animal.

You could tell it sounded like a human. I had never heard a noise like this come out of a person before. It sounded like someone was an excruciating pain. It was the most awful noise that I had ever heard. It was a guttural noise and it made every hair on my body stand straight up instinctively and I immediately got a huge search of adrenaline. I had never heard anything like this noise, and I hoped to got it, never hear it again. I watched a lot of horror movies, and not a single actor, screaming, and one has even come close to mimicking this awful sound. This is what I'd imagine someone being brutally murdered sounds like. It was incredibly loud, too, loud enough that I jumped back and gasped.

By then snapped my head to look at the woman at the register to see if she had any kind of reaction to the noise. But she didn't. She didn't have a reaction whatsoever. She just stared blankly ahead. You know when something weird is happening, and you look at the other strangers around you as if to say, yeah, this is weird.

We're all seeing this. She just had this vacant expression on her face. This was the most chilling part to me. There was absolutely no way she could not have heard it. Why was she pretending that she didn't? I started to move towards the hall with the bathrooms where Sam was. When she started to open the door to the bathroom and walked out, I didn't get a good look at Sam's face. But she just brushed past me and kept walking. I thought I must have been reading into something that was just a typical noise outside,

or something my over anxious brain created to be some monster. At this point in my life, I just constantly doubted myself. Sam and I, now in 2020, would have bolted out of there with no hesitation, but me in 2017 was unsure of herself, and that my own anxiety made me an unreliable witness to my own life. So I stupidly walked into the bathroom next, convinced that my own brain was to blame for the scare. Since Sam didn't seem alarmed, and the woman at the counter didn't seem alarmed either. Not trusting my own instincts, feeling half relieved, it was nothing, I sit down on the toilet.

After a few seconds, I hear the noise again, right next to my head. Right next to my head. The wall was right next to the toilet, and it sounded like it was directly on the other side of that wall. I'm frozen for a second. My heart is in my throat, not even daring to breathe, while the awful visceral scream is happening. There's a bang on the wall next to my head and the whole wall just ripples. I know I'm realizing that it isn't an actual wall. It's like one of those

office dividers that folds back like an accordion. My whole body was screaming to get out of there. Every hair on my body was standing up, so I jumped up, barely even pulling up my pants before I bolted out the door and out of the gas station. The woman at the front still completely reactionless and vacant, as I'm sprinting by her, staring at her with a definite look of horror on my face. She seemed almost robotic. I bolted out to the car where Sam was already sitting in the driver's seat with the engine on. I jumped in and clicked my seatbelt. Neither of us said anything.

She just peeled out of the parking lot. When we were out of sight of the gas station, we looked at each other finally. The expression of pure horror on each other's faces made it clear that we both heard the same thing. What the fuck was that? We discussed at length and had no idea. Maybe a mafia or a mob front where people who were getting tortured or murdered, some kind of sex trafficking front, a ghost?

I asked Sam why she didn't react when she came out of the bathroom and she said it was because she looked at me and didn't think I was reacting so she thought it was all in her head as well. We did the same thing to each other. It literally sounded like someone was being tortured in that gas station and we were both so freaked out about it. We couldn't even talk about it again for maybe another few weeks.

We both felt guilty for getting the hell out of there when it sounded like someone was being murdered, but we're two college aged girls. I'm afraid that we would have been next if we stayed to try and find out what it was. For months afterwards, I googled missing people in Maine and body found in Maine or murder in Maine. Constantly to see if we might have been witnessed to something, but nothing came up. I still have no idea or explanation for that noise. All

I know is it was the worst thing that I've ever heard, and I know something sinister would have happened if we would have stayed to find out what it was. And where sure as hell never stopping at some random gas station in the middle of nowhere again, we both vowed to trust our instincts the first time from now on. And you should too Always trust yourself. Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualized coaching services, to programs at home, your leadership skills and business acumen. Management concepts optimizes your professional development.

Online in-person, individually or groups. It's training that's measurably better. Learn more at managementconcepts.com. That's managementconcepts.com. That's managementconcepts.com. Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualize coaching services, to programs at home, your leadership skills, and business acumen. Management concepts optimizes your professional development, online in-person, individually, or groups. The story takes place around 2009.

I had just moved to South Carolina from the PNW region. A little bit of backstory, I had just turned 21, was working a full-time job in the medical field and had absolutely no friends since I was new to the area. One night I got bored. I decided I was going to put myself out there. I drove from my tiny town to Columbia. It's about a 40-minute drive, but I knew that's where all the good bars and clubs were. I was specifically looking for gay-friendly spots.

I found myself downtown looking for a club that was no longer there, though the internet said that it was. Disappointed, I talked to this lady outside a club across the street. She told me about a chill laid back bar with karaoke in West Columbia. Sounds great, I thought. She gave me directions, and I headed that way. I passed by a gas station on my way to Mayaiosoda and asked the lady if she knew whether or not I was in the right area. It appears I was.

I drove about five or six blocks until I made it there. Now, I'm not the life of the party and somewhat introverted. That was quite nervous the whole time I was there. I talked with the couple for a bit, that was from my area. Ordered a margarita, and smoked my cigarettes while watching a Katy Perry drag show. A man walks in. About five-nine roughly two hundred pounds, dark skin, goatee, wearing a white hoodie with jeans and a red hat. He sits next to me and winks.

He orders his drinks and asks me for a cigarette. Sure, I said. I asked him how he was doing and if he was from around the area. His answers were short, and I'm feeling kind of awkward at this point. So I just take it as he's not too interested. I turn my stool and continue to watch the drag show. This is when the vibe completely changes. I feel his warm breath whispering into my ear.

Meet me out back in my car. What that he gets up and leaves. Now, I'm not very sexually experienced at this point in my life, and certainly I'm not going to go close some stranger in his car in the parking lot. He didn't even have much to say in the first place. I stayed for about 20 more minutes. It seemed like there wasn't much of anyone else here my age. And I didn't seem to be making headways. Everyone there seemed to be with someone and I was alone. I figured that was about as much of a night out as I was going to have.

As I'm leaving the bar, but entering my car, I see headlights flash from behind me. The figure arose from the car. It's that guy. He throws his arms up. He starts running towards me. I'm not fucking around. I put my 92 Corolla in drive and sped out of there. I remember all the lights were green, which I thought was great, saying as I was able to get away from that area fast, but he's right behind me. He continues to follow me. I come up to a gas station when I was at earlier. I see a cop car

parked outside, so I pulled in and parked. Of course, the dude at the bar did too. He parked right beside me. I got out and went inside to tell the officer that he followed me from the bar, and it was feeling uneasy about it. He went outside, found the guy, and he started to pull out of the parking spot. He waved him down. As a police backup car pulls into the gas station, they walk over to get a statement. Turns out the guy had an expired license and a warrant out for his arrest. When they frisked him, he had a hunting knife on him. I remember the disturbing look that he gave me as they cuffed him. I couldn't believe it.

I left and I was completely lost, again. This time, I'm distraught, so it took me forever to finally get home. Had I gotten to the car with him? Who knows what could have happened. Guy at the bar let's not meet again. So this happened ages ago, back when I was 15, but after listening to some of these stories in the podcast, I finally decided to share one of my scariest experiences. I'm sorry if it's a little long-winded, but I really felt like I needed to share it. I live in Canada, and at the time of the story, I was living in a relatively small town, maybe a few

thousand. We were too small to have hospitals, but we had a Tim Hortons, which is a Canadian coffee shop for those of you that don't know. I only bring up the Tim Hortons because my friend at the time was working there and had suggested that I look into applying so I'd have some of my own cash finally. I was really considering it, but I hadn't gotten around to doing it just yet, when I got a call one morning in the middle of the winter. The caller said his name was John, and he was the manager at the Tim Hortons in my town,

and he wanted me to come in that morning for a job interview. I hadn't applied there yet, but I figured maybe my friend had put in a word for me, and that's why he was calling me. So I scheduled time to meet John in the dining area at Tim Hortons and went up to get ready. The way my street worked, you had to walk the opposite direction of the Tim Hortons, and went up to get ready. The way my street worked, you had to walk the opposite direction of the Tim Hortons to get to the street that would bring you up to the main road. From there, you would have to kind of backtrack down the main road to get to the Tim Hortons. If you could cross the river the wall would probably take about 15 minutes, but the way

my street worked, it would usually take me about 30. My mom didn't drive, so I had to walk it. Anyways, it was the middle of winter, and snowing, like all hell out. So my house was kind of running late, but I got everything ready and headed out. However, when I finally showed up, I ran in and walked up to the counter and asked for John. He told me, there's no John that works here. I was confused, but I insisted John the manager called me for an interview.

The employee just kind of stood there, confused, then pulled me to the side and asked me to sit in the dining area. So she could ask for a break to drive me home. She hurried what she was doing and called to someone in the back and said that she had to take care of something real quick, and asked someone to cover for her while she took a quick break. As she got me in the car and drove me back home, we talked.

Turned out, there was no John that worked there, let alone a manager. And that she had seen a man sitting in the dining area who looked kind of sketchy. She said he was sitting there, checking his phone, calling people on it, and started kind of cussing and acting really antsy before getting up and leaving, maybe just five minutes before I walked through the doors. When I got home, I told my mom what happened and she told me that he had called the house twice, sounding pretty peeved that I hadn't shown up yet. But we were grateful that he backed off just before I got there.

He'd think that this was the freaky part, but the thing is, about a week later, we saw on the news that some girl, a few towns over, had gone missing after leaving to go to a job interview. I was so scared. I called the cops to report what had happened, and they told me that they'd let me know if they needed anything else from me. But I don't think they ever found that girl. This still freaks me out to this day, and I still don't know how this guy got my phone number or my name. So to the creepy guy who potentially almost kidnapped me, let's not meet. You know it, your wife knows it, your friends know it.

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I joined the Coast Guard directly from high school, and my first duty station was Portland, Maine. I received housing allowances from the military, and I was excited to live alone in my very own place. I found a Quaint Little Studio apartment in the downtown area of Portland, which is a tiny city. My apartment was one of six in the building, and I was the youngest tenant by at least 50 years. My parents were very hesitant about me living alone. I was an 18-year-old naive girl, and they didn't think that I would be safe.

My landlord was nice enough, and rent was cheap. Whenever I had issues, he would send the maintenance man, his brother, to fix it that same day, not even needing me to be home to do it. I signed a one-year lease. A few months into renting the place, I started to notice little things being out of place. I would go to work at 6.30 in the morning, and I wouldn't be home till around 3.30 in the afternoon. I would come home, and I would notice that my pillows on my sofa were not how I left

them. Once my door was left cracked open, the sink in the kitchen was wet like it had been recently used. Now the first few times that these things were out of place, I simply thought that I was responsible for it, that I must have been in some tired days that morning. Well, the occurrence is picked up, and I started to get nervous. I started sleeping with my pocket knife under my pillow every night, though I wasn't really sleeping anymore.

I talked about what was going on at work, and my supervisor told me that I should see if the police department could do anything. I thought it couldn't hurt, so after work I went to the police department, and I was informed that they couldn't do anything until, whoever was coming into my apartment, took something. I was more worried that they weren't after something, but rather someone. Me. I decided I wanted to add a chain lock to my front and back door. I only had a deadbolt and a regular door lock at the time. I put in a request with my landlord, and it was denied because of the cosmetic reasons or so he said. I decided that I didn't care, and he could collect it out of my security deposit when

I moved in a few months. At this point, I was a nervous wreck. I felt paranoid. But I knew someone was coming into my apartment. I would lock all my doors, triple check the windows every night, and lie awake for hours with the knife under my pillow. The day after installing the lock, after coming home from a run, I jump into the shower, while standing there in my shower, shampooing my hair. I heard the deadbolt unlock, and then the door swung open, but it caught on the chainlock. That was terrified. I screamed, or at least I think I screamed.

I jumped out of the shower, slipping all over the place, as I took the first few steps towards the back door to push it closed. It was a very small apartment, and my shower was less than four feet from the back door. But I was in shock. I was able to call my landlord and told him what happened, and that I was going to have to break the lease. He was very nonchalant about it. I quickly gathered my things and stayed at my friend's house

until I moved out later that week. I thought that since I broke the lease, I would be penalized, and I would have penalized, and I would have to pay the remaining rent until my lease was up. I went to meet my landlord at my apartment to do a walkthrough and give back my keys. When I arrived, the maintenance man was there. I had never met him in person because whenever he came to work on something in my apartment, I would be at work. I was naive when I saw him, all I wanted to do was run.

It felt sick to my stomach. I knew, without ever having seen him before that he was the person that was coming into my home when I was not there. My landlord did not charge me, though, for breaking the lease. I was given my full security deposit back and a whole month's rent returned to me. I felt like I was being paid for my silence. Like my landlord knew all along his brother was a creep. I slept with a knife under my pillow for a couple years after that. So disturbed, maintenance man, let's not meet. I'm a 32 year old, and I live in the cold, dreary, and dark north of England.

Winters are long, and summers are short. I grew up well protected, and a safe and loving environment, in a town where nothing of note ever really happened. We probably grew up with a very innocent and false sense of security because of this. Around the time that I was 10 years old, I had a group of friends who would hang around with me after school on the weekends. Back then, PlayStation was either not out or had just come out and was so expensive that none of us could get one. So our time was spent playing football, building dens, and other such things that kids

that age got up to in the 90s. We all used to have sleepovers at each other's houses and occasionally camped in a tent and one of our gardens. Being the young adventurous lads that we were, we decided that we wanted to camp out away from home. Now we had probably watched too much, are you afraid of the dark? And wanted to tell spooky stories around a campfire. My parents would never let us do that, which was wise. So we stupidly all told each set of parents that we were staying at another person's house. Back then, we didn't

have mobile phones, and we would always just organize times that we would return home to our parents the next day. So there was no way they would ever know. To make sure that no one we knew spotted us, we made our way to a neighborhood about a 30-minute walk away so that hardly anyone knew us. Eventually, we settled in a very remote field, with only a few houses about a 10-minute walk away and some old abandoned- looking garages that you would rent just next to where we pitched the tent, and set a fire using a lighter one of our friends had taken from home. There were six of us in total and it was a ten person tent. We managed

to all get around the fire as the sun set, and began to tell stories and drink cola just laughing and joking with not a care in the world. It was close to midnight, according to my watch, and the night had turned pitch black and cold. As the breeze picked up around us and rustled the grass, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't getting a little unnerved. It's amazing how a black field with some abandoned garages looks far more frightening in the middle of the night.

My friends must have been feeling similar because we soon became quieter and kept awkwardly glancing around ourselves as if expecting to see Dracula behind us or something. One of us suggested just going to bed, so we soon did. I was sharing a compartment with Brian, and I surprisingly fell asleep very quickly. I awoke to see Josh and Carl looking wide eyed and pale, shaking me. I grumpily set up, but they shushed me angrily in motion for me to come outside the tent. I followed. It was pitch black still, and the moon hadn't moved much so I clearly hadn't been asleep that long. All of us apart from Brian were now awake and we required apart from one or two rumbling

sleepily. Before I could ask what was going on, Joshua motioned to a woman. I couldn't see her that well in the dark, but the moonlight showed me enough to start freaking the hell out. She had messy dark hair, she was fairly tall. The creepy thing was that she was pacing back and forth, muttering to herself in the middle of nowhere on a garage roof. All she seemed to be wearing was some sort of nighty. You could see her long pale legs sticking out, and her arms weren't covered at all. It was freezing. There was no way anyone in the right mind would be out dressed like that, never mind whilst

wandering around seemingly muttering to no one. I think we must have stood there about a minute frozen in shock, just watching her. She had noticed us. I was just going to motion for us to get back into the tent and decide what to do when Brian, who had finally woke his lazy ass up, leapt from the tent and shouted, Boo! Clearly meaning the startled us.

None of us could believe it. And before it had totally left his lips, he realized something was wrong, and looked towards what we were staring at. The woman's head spun around to face us, clearly alerted by the noise. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed to snap around in an unnaturally creepy fashion and her eyes locked onto us in the dark. I wasn't certain, but I felt like her lips twitched into some kind of smile, but she kept muttering, and none of us could make out what she was saying. isn't certain, but I felt like her lips twitched into some kind of smile, but she kept muttering, and none of us could make out what she was saying.

Let's get out of here, Joshua muttered, as we all seemed locked in to this horrifying staring contest with this creepy woman. What about the tent, Carlast? It was his, so he would be worried about getting in trouble if he lost it. Screw the tent, I'm honored. We'll come back for it. We all started to turn, but at that moment we heard her. She said, wait, wait.

We then heard a thud. And then footsteps running. We ran across the field and didn't look back. We were all good at sports at school and I'm thankful for that. We might not have gotten away if we weren't. She had been barefoot and that probably worked to our advantage. All of us had slept fully clothed so we all had our shoes on. We sprinted for what seemed like an hour before, all coming to a stop, and a well lit street with plenty of houses. We listened and watched and waited, but never heard her again.

We talked about it, and the excited yet terrified way kids do when they get away with something like that. We soon realized we had a problem. We couldn't go anywhere to sleep because all of our parents thought that we were sleeping somewhere else. So we walked the streets chatting and messing around until dawn. We were young and had the energy where we could stay up all night and not really feel it. In the morning we gathered the courage to go check out the tent.

We found that it hadn't been stolen or harmed, but our stuff had clearly been rifled through. Nothing had been stolen, so who knows whether it was the weird lady or someone else. We returned home and heard nothing else about it. The internet wasn't really a common thing yet, so you had to give the library to use it unless your parents were rich. And we couldn't talk to our parents about it because we would be grounded until college. So we just got on with our lives. We told schoolmates who didn't believe us and talked about it over the next few days,

but largely life went back to normal. Then a few days later, Brian knocked on my door and eagerly asked me to come out for a bit. We walked to the local park and he told me his parents had been chatting about the news. There had been a local woman that went crazy. She stabbed her husband in the back for cheating on her while he did the dishes on the night that we had camped. She had simply left him bleeding and walked out of the house wearing just her nightie. They couldn't account for her for just a few hours, but then the police had finally found

her wandering around mumbling and coherently. The place where she lived was a 15 minute walk from the garage. When we finally saw the newspaper clipping, it was the woman that we had seen. We were certain. We still mention it, if we're ever at reunions, and we laugh about how we never lied to our parents about where we were ever again. Now, she may not have harmed us if she had found us, but I am glad that we never found out why she chased after six kids in the middle of the night. So creepy, nighty, garage roof pacing lady, I hope you got the help you need.

But let's not need 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 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 AT&T.com slash Hypergate for details.

AT&T Fiber presents a straightforward moment. Your 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 Gagillionaire? Yeah, I have AT&T Fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward.

Me too. Ugh, this one. I'll fetch you a better one. Straightforward 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 AT&T.com slash Hypergate for details. This is technically two stories, but both of these accounts happened within the same apartment

building, within the span of a year and a half. To give a bit of background, my mother has lived in the same apartment for more than ten years in a small town in Maine. When my brother and I lived with her, while we were attending public school through the 12th grade, we had a set of experiences that we'll still look back on as the strangest experiences we've had with people. This took place in the year of 2013. The first neighbor we encountered was a female who may have been in her late 20s or early 30s.

We'll call her April. April appeared to be a single mother with a child when she first moved into our apartment complex, and she lived right across the hall from us. She seemed nice and tiny exchanges when we would see her and my mom would have nice little chats about her son, how they were doing every now and then. She seemed harmless at the time. Here's when things started to go south. A few months on, my mom started to notice how tiny things would go missing when she knew exactly where she put them. I thought she was just being crazy

at first, and I didn't really believe her. Then everyone in the household comes home one day, and we found a frozen pizza that was missing from our fridge. Yeah, a fucking frozen pizza. The reason why we knew is because my brother and I were excited to eat it that night, and it was in a place in our fridge that you couldn't miss. The pizza was just gone, like it hadn't been there the night before. As confirmed, my mom's suspicions, someone was breaking into our house, but we had no idea who. We had a local detective come in and set up a camera on the shelf. It was one of those cameras that couldn't be removed because it was locked in.

And unless you want to bring the whole shelf out, you weren't getting it off. About a week goes by and the detective comes to take the camera. He wanted to look through the footage to see if they found the person guilty of stealing our stuff. My mom and I go into the police station after getting called from the detective. He showed us the footage. It was of April, our neighbor coming in and stealing food off of our shelves. Now to give more background, my mom is between being diagnosed with borderline personality disorder and bipolar disorder. She also has a bad hoarding problem, which

included food. So we had shelves of food that may or may not have been expired. The footage of April literally showed her grabbing food off of our shelves and walking through our apartment. Not only that, but she had what almost looked like a shopping bag and was just walking through Putting stuff in there that she liked almost as if our house were a supermarket rather than a place we lived The local police indicated that they were going to give her some time to cough up the possessions that she stole from us Almost two weeks went by and my mom starts to get confrontational.

It wasn't super aggressive. She was just trying to be really nice about it. So one day my mom goes up to her door while she's home and knocks. She didn't wait for the door to be answered before saying loudly, I know you have our stuff. The police said that they're giving you time.

I don't intend on pressing charges, just please give us back our stuff. We got no response. My mom left the box outside of the door and said to April through the door, I'm leaving a box in front of your house. You don't have to answer the door. Just please give it back. But that's not why things turned sour. A few days later, April went over to our door and started slamming on it. Like palm-wide open violently slapping the door. She starts cussing out my mom, saying things like, go fuck yourself, you dumb bitch. Don't fuck with me, you whore.

This wasn't anything I was expecting to hear when in middle school. Knowing my mom and her emotional nature, of course, she fired back. But she tried to reason with April, repeating again, I'm not going to press charges, I know you did it, just please give us our stuff back. April continued to use obscenities at my mom calling her all these terrible names. This went on over the course of a few days. April threatened to call the cops on us a few times and one day she actually did. We explained to the officer the ongoing situation and we told her to go to April's apartment to talk to her. April answered the door and put on this fake, hi, how are you?

Like she was some kind of angel who couldn't hurt anyone. We call the police department to see if they're going to prosecute, but they only seem to drag on matters and beat around the bush about arresting them. They kept telling us, we'll make some arrests been a week, or we're going to look into it. This turned out to be horseshit because we later were informed by our local detective that they were not going to arrest her. Why? Because she was apparently involved in a drug case

in the area and they needed her not to be in custody for some reason. April ended up giving us back some of the stuff, but who knows what else she stole. One of the things that she returned was my brother's Nintendo DS, which he kept in perfect condition. April returned it with its fold broken in half, and in pieces. She must have either done that herself,

or gave it to a kid and he broke it. Either way, we never got justice. She moved out soon afterwards and we never saw her again until we went to a local football game between the New England Patriots alumni and our local police department. April happened to be there and she gave my family death glairs. My mom seemed terrified, and she ushered us away from April when we saw her. She looked more terrible than we saw her last, almost like she had relapsed over and over again. The second neighbor started out the same way as April, keep in mind that these neighbor

exchanges occurred separately, and they were not working together or anything that we know of. We'll call him Ron. Ron was an older middle-aged man maybe in his 40s. He never really bothered us or talked to us much other than his casual greetings in the hallways or in the outside walkways. Then he started to do some weird shit, or in the outside walkways. Then he started to do some weird shit, but not directly to us, per se. About a year or so after the first incident with April, we started hearing Ron shouting random obscure things to himself. He was our downstairs neighbor, and the floors and walls were thin, so we definitely heard him.

My brother and I shared a room, and I think Ron's bedroom was right underneath us. The first night it started happening, one of the first things that made me and my brother freak out was that he would shout repeatedly. I know you're in there. There's a little girl in the closet. There's a fucking girl in the closet. We had no idea what he was talking about, and if he was talking about someone in his apartment or not, we didn't hear any other voices, so we assumed that he was talking to himself.

We both just shrugged it off. We thought it was funny at first, but then it got worse. This happened for three nights in a row. Eventually my brother and I started responding to what he was saying. We don't have a little girl in here. We can't even fit a girl in here. We don't know what you're talking about.

Remember that my mom had a hoarding problem. And she used the closet to store things in, unfortunately. But Ron kept repeating his wild claim. Get that fucking girl out of the closet you piece of fucking shit, get her out of there. We just kept responding back with the same thing because we obviously had no girl in the closet. My brother and I told my mom about it, and at first she didn't believe us.

But then she started to hear the yelling coming from his apartment, and she could tell that Ron was yelling at us because his door was wide open and his head was pointed upwards. So she knew that he was screaming at us because she saw him. Well, she confronted him, saying, don't talk to my kids like that. We have no idea what you're saying." Ron responded with, Oh, so you're in on it too. It was baffling that, one, he thought there was a girl in our closet that we were holding captive in, two, he thought my mom had some involvement. He went on for a few weeks like this shouting random nonsense. Eventually, going back to the old, there's a little girl in the closet. I started to get very aggressive, though.

When he one day came up to our place and shouted, get that girl out of the closet. I know she's in there. You fucking pieces of shit. I know there's a little girl in there. My mom, of course, responded with the same thing. We don't know what you're talking about. My sons don't have a little girl. I don't have a little girl. I have two sons. That's it. I have no idea what you're talking about. Please leave us alone. But of course, he didn't leave, so my mom had to get more aggressive. Back away from the fucking door,

I'm calling the cops. Ron responded, "'Oh yeah, call the cops. They'll see that there's a little girl in there, and you'll be fucking screwed.'" Nobody ended up calling anyone, and eventually Ron went back down to his apartment, still shouting those crazy claims and obscenities. It seemed, since that point, he didn't shout or give us any problems. However, it did come back about a month or so later. He was saying the same old things. We later found out two things could have possibly occurred that caused him to say these ridiculous things. One, he could have some severe type of

schizophrenia, which could have caused him to hear a little girl's voice when there was no one there, or two. He could have been on drugs that caused him to hallucinate sounds and images. Ron honestly could have been on drugs or schizophrenic, but we never really found out. The last we heard about Ron was that some of his family came and cleared the stuff out of his apartment. My mom suspected that maybe he had passed away, but we were never really sure. We never saw him or April again. I don't know where they ended up, but I hope we never meet. There's also going to be a very warm welcome to all of the new listeners that have hopped on board

this week. I would imagine the majority of you are murderinos, in which case I owe a huge thanks to Karen Kielkerap from my favorite murder for not only being a fan of my show, but also talking about it on hers. That was huge. I appreciate that and you and Georgia are welcome on my show anytime you'd like to come and tell some of these very scary true or stories. This week you have heard, Last Gastation on the Left by listener Alex.

New in town nightmare by listener B-cloud 9. Nearly kidnapped when I was 15 by Mandy The Strange, disturbed maintenance man by Tara Prika, the mother who lost it by listener Johnny Five alive, and finally, two unforgettable neighbors by a listener named Eric. 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 want to hear your story on the show, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com and if you want to get access to all the bonus episodes and material as well as exclusive merchandise, head over to patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Meet podcast. I've been getting a lot of messages and emails about what's happening with odd trails. If you don't know, it's the new supernatural version of Let's Not Meet. About hauntings and counters with supernatural beings, things like that.

It's been delayed, again, my co-host Brandon Linear has been sent out of the country for work for the next six months, so it's a pretty big delay. But the good news is when he gets back, well, be ready to hit the ground running. Everything's ready to go. So we're looking at a launch date of some time mid next year.

But in the meantime, I am working out a lot of new shows that are going to be coming out in early 2021 and some new projects. I'll keep you all informed as we move along. Thanks so much for listening. And thanks for all your support. I'll see you next week for we move along. Thanks so much for listening and thanks for all your support. I'll see you next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet, a true or a podcast. Thank you. 18T Fiber presents A Straight Forward Moment You're wine?

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