Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 7x20: The Jigsaw Woman - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: January 10, 2022

Stories in this episode:  -Creep At the Home Haunted House - Jella74 (0:43).  -The SUV - Bethany (15:44).  -The Jigsaw Woman - Lynea (30:28).  -Chased Home - Curly (36:17).  -I Thought We Were Alone - Jasmine (44:58).  Exclusive Patreon Content:  -While I'll Never Go Back To The Abandoned Mall - MrUncleFunky.  -Circled Like Prey - Cat.  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 submit your story to the show, send it to [e-mail]. Get access to extended, ad-free episodes of Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast with bonus stories every week along with a bunch of other great exclusive material and merch at patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast. This podcast would not be possible to continue at this rate without the help of the support of the legendary LNM Patrons. Come join the family! Calm is offering my listeners a special limited time promotion of 40% off a Calm Premium subscription at CALM.COM/meet. Try EveryPlate for just $1.79  per meal by going to EveryPlate.com and entering code meet179.  This year up your personal hygiene routine with Native. Check out NativeDeo.com/meet, or use promo code MEET at checkout, and get 20% off your first order today. Go to HelloFresh.com/lnm16 and use code lnm16 for up to 16 free meals and 3 free gifts. - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/  - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast  - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com  - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast  - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/  - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/andrewtatelive  

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. My name is Andrew Tate and this is season 7 episode 20 of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. It was October of 2021, and my boyfriend's mom had compiled a list of addresses for us to visit.

These were homes that were converted into haunted houses. It was the beginning of the month, so we were all trying to get into the spooky spirit. She loves sending us places to try, and we always had a good experience, so we jumped at the opportunity to drive around to these homes. The first house we went to was typical and fun. It was a family sitting outside with a line of people wanting to experience their garage tunnel of Halloween decor. They were handing out candy and playing spooky music. When it was our turn to walk through the tunnel of black garbage bags taped to the walls, we had fun. On our way out, however, my boyfriend was actually punched by one of these pop-up skeletons.

The next address was another 20 minutes out of our safe suburban area. For reference, I always felt safe in my area, and there were close to no weird experiences that I had ever encountered. It was about 30 minutes from downtown, and every encounter was a good one, with strangers. We laugh about the red mark on my boyfriend's face, from the plastic skeleton as we venture into an undiscovered area of town. I've never really been in this part of town neither has my boyfriend, but we don't really get any weird feelings until we arrive near the area. I'm driving, so as I pull into the neighborhood, I turn my rights on due to the lack of any

sort of streetlights. I questioned if we were in the right spot, because not a single house was decorated. I reassured myself by remembering that it was still early in October, and Apple Maps told me we weren't there yet. Sure enough I turned the corner, and there was a house all lit up with Halloween decor. We parked, and noticed the lack of cars in front of the house. Also a lack of people. My boyfriend believed he saw a path to the backyard, so we got out of my car to check it

out. A man appears out of what seems like thin air. At first I thought he was just a person going to explore the house as well. But once he approached us, he explained that it was his house, but it wasn't quite ready yet. This man did not look like he owned a home or any type of residence. He stood at around five-nine and was wearing a blue hat that had rips, tears and stains on top of his overgrown and overly shaggy hair. His white t-shirt seemed like

it had never been taken off, It looked as bad as his hat. He was also wearing blue sweatpants, and no better condition. There were mysterious brown stains all over these pants. Yellow stains on the shirt from God knows what. As we got closer, we embraced a stench that I can still recall. I don't know how to explain it, it smelled like... Bio mixed with some variation of manure or rotten fish. I also noticed his strangely sweaty appearance, especially since it was the beginning of October and getting cold out.

When he explained the house wasn't ready yet, both my boyfriend and I began walking towards the car, saying a short, oh, okay, sorry, or something of that sort. Immediately we hear, oh no, I can show you my yard, though. Within my fear of being rude, I say, OK. He starts to show us every single prop in his yard. There must have been upwards of 40. Not only did he walk us around the yard, but he plugged them in as we approached and asked us to use our phone flashlights to activate each sensor.

About 15 minutes into this, my annoyed attitude turned into uneasy fear. My boyfriend held me a few steps back from the man and looked at me saying, it me saying, you're okay. Then I realized my ever-occurring flaws. I was too naive. I always believed the best in people while my boyfriend is quite the opposite. He's more realistic and socially sharp. Before all of the listeners start assigning me the cliche of the character in a movie who opens a squeaky door while the audience is screaming don't open that door. Let me explain. I'm a 17 year old female.

I've always felt safe around my boyfriend who's 18. He's about six feet tall and is pretty muscular for his age. This being accounted for. My naive and innocent nature towards strangers, never really put me in harm's way until this night. We're about 15 minutes in to our visit. My boyfriend and I have each said about four words while the man continues to talk on and on.

I think he notices us both feeling uncomfortable, so he picks up a conversation. He introduces himself as Jerry. He shakes both of our hands. His hands were tough, dry, and coarse. They left a dirty residue on ours. I give my real name while my boyfriend shakes his hand and gives him a false name. I can't remember the name. He starts asking us weird questions like where we live,

along with normal ones like our age. He then continues the exclusive tour of his yard. I remember this eerie feeling, one which I've never felt before. I can only describe it as a gut feeling everyone always talks about this when they since danger Soon enough When he had reached the last decoration in his yard Forgetting relieved and excited to leave At this point he tells us he's decorated his front room and wants to show us Before my boyfriend can decline his offer, my fear of being

rude kicks in, and I say sure. He seems excited, but not in a happy way. In this very creepy way, his facial expressions seemed like he was anticipating my answer, and was happy he got it. Thinking about the way his eyes were relieved, once I responded now sends shivers down my spine. He seemed frantic as he told us great. Just give me a second to turn everything on before you guys come in. The house was set up to where the garage was in front of the house, and to the left of it was a concrete path that led about 15 feet towards the front door.

He runs down this path and my boyfriend and I stay near the garage to remain unseen by him. My boyfriend starts telling me we need to get out of there. Once again, my flaws kick in and I tell him we can't be rude. Also, he'll be out in just a second, and would see us running towards the car. We're parked right in front of the home. About 30 seconds later, he comes back out in motions for us to follow him. Once the door swings open, we're both overwhelmed with the smell. It's just like he did, but much more pungent. It was also weirdly hot in that home, and somehow humid, which is weird, because the state

where I live is notorious for dry weather. I seem to knock some sense into myself and place myself in the doorway so he's unable to close the door. My boyfriend is standing in front of me. I notice his foot is also blocking the doorway. Once we are in, I notice him right next to me, trying to shut the door. But he gives up after about 10 seconds of me casually not budging. He's now giving a sator of his

front room and its decor, as my boyfriend and I refuse to move around. I look over to my boyfriend and I find his eyes locked on the corner of the room. It was dark, very dark in there, with only a few decorations, as dim lighting. All I see at first is the extremely black abyss, which was the hallway into the rest of the house. I follow his eyes closer to see a small, discolored knife. Jerry finds us both staring nervously. He chuckles telling us,'s just a Halloween decoration. He then begins to move into this dark abyss, motioning for us to follow.

I move my ground to peek around the half-closed door. My boyfriend suddenly shoves me back into the doorway, and the fear only intensifies. As soon as he gets lost into that darkness, my boyfriend tells him, he needs to get home for curfew, as it was approaching 11pm at this point, and we were about 40 minutes away from home. We didn't mention how far we lived. He also mentioned my parents were expecting me home. While the man's grim smile dropped, he seemed to freeze in his tracks. Without further conversation, my boyfriend and I turned around to exit this uncomfortable home. The man suddenly rushed towards us, and frantically tries to make more conversation. He starts explaining his plans to decorate the whole street along with his dad's house.

Finally, we tell him we have to go on our way as we approach the end of the driveway. Any type of expression he had dropped again. He gave me and my boyfriend another fearful rush. His voice grew quieter as he mentioned. This Halloween party that he'll be having the next night. And we just reply, okay, and get ourselves out of there. I take a final glance back towards him while my boyfriend opens the driver's side door. We drove off after locking the doors, making sure we were both safe, as we discussed what had just happened.

Returning to my boyfriend's house, we explained what had just occurred to his mom. She seemed terrified as well. She suggested that we look on some type of database to find out more about the house and its owner. I looked up the address, I found the homeowner's name, to be something not even relatively similar to Jerry. I started freaking out, I drive myself home and tell my dad everything. He with the benefit of his job had access to more home information, so he looked up the

same address. This particular address had a photo on file. The owner was a sex offender, which means his photo needed to be attached and accessible. Sure enough, the photo was of the estranged man that I had seen. I don't know what that man was doing, or if he actually lived there, and what he had to do or had done to the homeowner, let alone what he planned to do to us. But to the creepy man trying to lure us into that house, let's never meet again.

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Yeah! And this is the smell of that same sandwich in a hefty ultra-strong trash bag. H hefty, hefty, hefty! Ah, smell the difference. Hefty ultra-strong has armen hammer with continuous odor control, so no matter what's inside your trash. Hmm, you can stay one step ahead of stinky. And for bigger jobs, try the superior strength of hefty large blackbacks. This story takes place in rural, central, Wisconsin.

It's the kind of town that has a bar on every corner and a church on every block, but not much else to do. It was the 4th of July and a carnival had come to town and set up outside of the local high school. The smell of kettle corn and fried food filled the air. The sounds of kids screaming on carnival rides, rang in everyone's ear. It was overall a great time for family and friends. I was 15 at the time and was walking between rides chatting with my best friend, who was 17. We both went to the local high school together and decided to spend some time at the carnival

after the city's firework display. We walked around the carnival and smiled at familiar faces, buying snacks, playing games, and flirting with boys. It was an average holiday in our average, small town. As the night went on, we decided that we wanted to drive over to a neighboring town to meet up with some other friends. The drive between the towns was about 15 miles and took about 20 minutes on the main roads. The dark skies didn't bother us, as we had made this drive hundreds of times throughout our lives so far. The roads twisted between trees.

They didn't have any streetlights, but it was a straight shot between our town and the next. The drive started like any other. We both buckled up and turned the music on, letting the base shake the car and spill out into the air outside. We laughed over the events of the night as we drove and breathed in the country summer air. We picked up speed and started to make our way to the town. The night was just like the hundreds that we had lived before. After a few miles we noticed headlights in our rear-view mirror. This wasn't unusual,

as we were taking the fastest route to get to our destination, and there were multiple branching roads leading to other parts of the countryside. As we continued our drive, we realized that these lights began getting closer and closer. Still we didn't think much of it. The speed limit on the road was 55, and although we weren't speeding, it wasn't usual to see people pushing the limit in the 60s. As the lights continued to approach closer and closer my friend moved over to the side of the road a bit, giving the car behind us ample opportunity to pass us, at their convenience and continue their journey. A few miles went by, and the vehicle was still close behind us, making no attempts to

pass. At this point we realized that the car behind us wasn't going to pass us, so my friend accelerated in order to gain some distance between us and them. As soon as my friend stepped on the gas and gained speed, so did the car behind us, which we could now make out was a large SUV. The SUV sped up and stayed mere feet behind us, then started flashing their brights on and off. My friend and I both looked at each other confused as to why the other vehicle was doing this. Again, my friend began to pick up more speed, trying to get us away from the vehicle, behaving so strangely behind us, minutes passed,

and nothing changed. The SUV was still behind us, and was still aggressively flashing their brights. At this point we began to get nervous at what was going on and decided to change course and turn off on a side road to hopefully circle back around and get away from the SUV. At the next road, we made a right turn and to our surprise, so did the SUV. Now, this was weird. It was putting us on edge, but could still be explainable, I guess. Plenty of people lived on this road. As we began to pick up speed, so did the SUV. At this point, our uneasiness grew, and we decided to continue making random turns throughout

the countryside, all in hopes of losing the SUV. At the next road, we made a right, and another, and another. And so did the SUV. At this point, we had gone in a large square, and were sure that the SUV was following us. My friend and I both went silent, fear boiling inside of us. Questions began racing through my mind. Who was behind us? Why are they doing this? Are they following us? Miles went by in silence.

Neither my friend nor I knowing what to do or where we should go. We continue to drive and make turns watching the trailing SUV with our eyes on the rear view mirror. At this point we were only about a mile from my childhood home where I knew that my dad was. I told my friend to make the next turn and head towards my dad's house. I didn't want to lead whoever was behind us to my home. We were a hunting family and I knew that my dad would have a gun at the house. I grabbed my phone and called my dad. I was waiting to fill him in and tell him to come outside as the phone rang.

We got closer to the house and the phone kept ringing. Eventually going to voicemail. Without being able to contact my dad, I told my friend to turn off on a road near my house and circle back towards the city that we had previously come from. If we could stay in the car and keep driving, we could make it to the police station. As we got back on the main road and headed towards the carnival, so did the SUV. At this point, this vehicle had been following us for upwards of 20 miles, flashing their rights and staying on our tell. The next move was to call my mom.

She was still at the carnival with my younger brother and his friends. As soon as she picked up the phone and heard the panic and fear in my voice, she knew that something was wrong. She told us to drive back into town into the carnival. She would call the police and have them meet us there to confront whoever was following us. As we made our way back to town, nothing changed. This SUV was still close behind us, and still flashing their lights. The silence of the car was the loudest thing between my friend and I. Neither of us had any idea what was going on. We both just wanted to be out of that situation. We both heard horror stories,

starting with our situation. When were they going to tell us something? Were they going to try and get us to pull over? We were getting closer and closer to town, closer to help, and closer to safety. My friend pressed her foot on the gas, and we picked up speed. At this point, we were only focused on getting to town. Worst case scenario. We would get pulled over, and an officer would be able to help us. We were pushing 80, faster than anyone should be going on this road. Still the SUV was keeping up. Just

feet behind us. After what felt like an hour we finally saw the appearing street lights notifying us that we were almost there. A stop sign was approaching and my friend hit the brakes. My mom was still on the phone at this point. I told her that we were only about five minutes away from her location. She informed us that the police were there and to just keep driving. As we slowed down, I could hear my heartbeat in my entire body, and I turned around to try and get a glimpse of who this person was in the dim light of the city. As I turned around, a stone dropped in my stomach. The SUV behind us was no regular SUV.

It was a state trooper. This wave of confusion washed over me. On one hand I was relieved to see a cop. Maybe there really was something wrong and they were trying to get our attention. I turned back around and told my friend and mother what I saw. It's a fucking cop, I shouted. Confusion washed over my friend's face and she looked in the rear-view mirror, trying to confirm what I had just said. The tone in my mother's voice changed, and I could only hear rage over this revelation. What cop would follow two teenage girls all over the countryside? She shared this information with the police officers waiting for us.

They seemed just as confused. My friend pressed on the gas and made her way across the intersection. The SUV turned on to a different road. We both let out a sigh of relief and let those on the phone know that the SUV was gone. We continued towards the car and volunteered to police what had happened. They asked us if we had any other identifying information about the vehicle. A license plate, squad car number, anything. We didn't. The trooper flashing their rights over and over was directly behind us.

We weren't able to see. My friend and I both made a statement, and that was that. It was over, at least physically. Weeks had passed, and we never received any follow-up over the event. By now, we had told our story to multiple friends and family members throughout the community, warning them of what we had experienced. Eventually, I told my grandfather about what happened. He was the leader of a local Veterans Club called the Lions. He told me that he would make some calls.

After some badgering to the local police department, we got to follow-up call. The answers they had for us didn't make us feel any better about the situation. There was no one listed as patrolling that area that night. There were no reports made out of county or state level. No one had any idea who was in that car or what they were doing. There was no record of an SUV even existing. It's been over five years now since this took place, and to this day, the story still comes up between my best friend and I. We've both relived this night dozens of times. We've both come up with multiple random explanations and scenarios of what we

should have done differently. Nothing ever came out of this experience. No one reported having a similar encounter with a trooper and our county. We never got any real answers. And our left with this haunting memory of multiple unanswered questions. To this day, I'm still uneasy around police. They are supposed to be our first line of defense, a group of people to protect us in situations like this, not cause them. I'd like to hope that one day we'll figure out what was happening that night, if it was just a harmless prank,

or if they thought that we were someone else. But as more time passes, it seems less likely. So to the state trooper who thought it would be funny to follow and harass two teenage 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 Gagillionaire?

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Live like a Gagillionaire with AT&T Fiber. Limited availability in select areas. Visit AT&T.com slash Hypergig for details. This happened when I was 11. My best friend was 13. For some background and setting, my friend and I had been together for six years. Since she was older than me, I did everything she did. We would often bike around our neighborhood in the summer, and about a half a mile away

was this flower shop with a cafe that we'd bike to almost every time we hung out. One day, we were on our way back when we stopped at the middle school's park. The park had a tether ball pole, a long row of swings, and this playground was about 20 feet away. We were the only ones there, which was the ideal situation, until a rather scarring moment, and our somewhat sheltered lives happened. We were by the tether ball pole messing around, taking pictures, when a lady comes up the path on her bicycle, and gets on a swing nearest to us. Sure, it sounds fine, until we notice she has this grey, unkempt hair, and she had face

paint of Jigsaw the Clown from the Saw Franchise on. She was writing this little girl's pink bike that still had training wheels on it. My friend, who I'll call Grace and I, both look at each other in confusion. We were polite and respectful girls, so we were trying to be as nice as possible without being rude or being too uncomfortable. The way that she was swinging with her creepy smile, I remember it clearly. I didn't have situational instincts, so I didn't quite know what to do. I looked at Grace.

She looked over at our bikes and tilted her head towards them just during that. We should go. We slowly, but what felt like a complete rush to me grabbed our bikes and started writing as quickly as we could through the parking lot around the building and out of the lot. I looked behind me for a grace, and she was there right behind me, but then coming around the building was the lady on her bike coming after us. We were riding as fast as our legs could go, taking extra turns trying to lose her, but she was still there.

As we turned the final turn onto the road of Grace's house, I looked back, and there in the distance was the woman. We were almost home, peddling faster than I thought that we could. We pulled into her driveway and jumped off of our bikes. We ran up to the porch, and through the door, locking it, and rushing upstairs, hiding in Grace's closet. No one was home, so until we heard her mom's voice, we sat in that closet, catching our

breath. I don't know where that woman went or where she came from, but I don't want to know. So to the demented woman chasing two middle school girls through their neighborhood, let's not meet. 18T Fiber presents A Straight Forward 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.

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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. Now that I'm an adult, I fully appreciate the healthy fear my parents instilled in me of strangers. Over the years, I've removed myself from weird situations because of crazy gut feelings. Even in my 30s, I still hear my parents say, don't talk to strangers, buy your own drinks, always tell somebody where you're

going. I'm always cautious around new people, especially ones that I don't know. Listening to this podcast brought up an incident that I had with my younger brother when I was 12 and he was 11. My brother and I used to walk home from school every day by ourselves. It was only about a mile. This particular day, walking home seemed normal, and I remember it being a sunny, but cold day. We had walked about a quarter of the mile. When I noticed a tall, heavy-set man in black clothes walking behind us.

I didn't think anything of it at first, because he was further back, and a lot of people in that area walked. But when he got closer, that's when I became more aware. The way he walked looked as if he had a purpose, not walking casually. I said to my brother, have you noticed this guy behind us? He said yeah, I saw him a while back. We both looked at each other, but continued walking. I told my brother that he'll probably just turn at the next crosswalk,

because there's a convenience store there. There was no reason to walk further than that, because it was just houses. Walking the same path every day, you recognize people, and you know where they live. I knew that this guy didn't live anywhere near us. When I saw him get closer, I said, let's walk a little faster, just so we don't have to stand next to him when we crossed the street.

Once we had crossed the street with the convenience store, I was sure that we wouldn't be seeing the tall man anymore. We only had to cross one more street before we were almost home. We began talking about school, and what we did that day, when my brother said, he's still behind us. My heart skipped a beat because this fear that my parents drilled into me began surfacing. My dad would always say, if something feels weird, it probably is, and you better get out of there. I said to my brother, okay, don't panic. Let's just walk a little faster. At this point, I could see that the man was looking at us, and not looking ahead. He looked serious, and was walking

heavily, and getting closer. We got to the last crosswalk, and hurried across the road. Once on the other side I began looking for neighbors that I knew, but no one was around, and our home was at the end of the road. My gut was telling me that something was wrong. I told my brother, if he crosses the road towards our house, then something is definitely up and be ready to run. I reassured myself that this man did not live near us. I'm sure that if anyone saw us, they would have seen two kids walking frantically in a tall

man not far behind. that if anyone saw us, they would have seen two kids walking frantically in a tall man not far behind. At this point, we were basically fast-walking. I took one last look behind me to see the man crossing the road that led to our house, and that's when he yelled, It's come here." My heart sank. My brother went pale. I was racking my brain as to why this man was following us and wanted our attention. I knew we weren't going to wait to find out. I turned to my brother, and we both stared at each other. And we knew that this was it. I said, run.

We immediately panicked and ran as fast as we could. I wasn't planning on looking back anymore, but we knew he started running towards us. We could hear his boots slamming on the ground. He continued to yell, come here, now, stop. He sounded really pissed off, but we never stopped running. My brother yelled to me, get the keys out of your pocket. We can run to the back door. All off the door once we're inside. Get over here now was the last thing I heard him say when he darted to the left and

to our driveway. Keys in the hand, I hurriedly opened the back door. My brother's hands were on my shoulder, waiting for the door to open. Once inside we slammed the door shut and locked it. We both could barely breathe, but we didn't know if we were actually safe yet. I whispered to my brother, crawled to the front door, and made sure it's double locked. I crawled to the house phone and called my dad. He told us to stay inside until he got there. Once I hung up, we waited to hear yelling or banging at the door, but there was nothing.

Everything was quiet. I sat there by the phone, praying to God while staring at my brother as he sat by the front door. We didn't speak for twenty minutes when my dad arrived. He told us to stay in our room as he went to look for this man. He walked up and down the street for about an hour, talked to neighbors, but no one saw anything. It was as if he didn't exist. When my dad walked inside, he told us to explain everything again, and asked if we knew him, or did we drop something that he wanted to return. My brother and I both said, we never saw him before and we checked

our things and we didn't drop anything. My dad hugged us both and told us that he was happy we were safe and he was proud that we did everything right. So shout out to my parents for the constant talks about strangers and to that tall man following us home. Let's not meet. AT&T Fiber presents A Straight Forward Moment. Your wine? Thanks. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good.

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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. I live with my mom. She's always been a difficult person to talk to, even though she's the only immediate parent I have. I've always had a hard time doing things like going out with friends without her butting in, ranting about safety, stranger danger, and other things.

Now these things are of course relevant, don't get me wrong. But you get tired of hearing the same safety talk after the 50th time or so. All this results and a lot of restrictions when going out, especially when talking about where and with who, her being a single mom and all. About two years ago, I heard that I got into the list from my dad's exchange program to Germany. For context, I live in South America and go to a German school. There's this exchange program during freshman year, where you travel

to Germany and live with this foster family for five months. They take you in and you go to school, learn to manage your money, master the language, that kind of stuff. Of course, you have to cover all the expenses to actually make the trip, as in plane tickets and such. But it's a beautiful experience, nonetheless. I'd been looking forward to this ever since the school year started. It was going to be my chance to prove to my family, especially my mom, that I could take care of myself without needing to be looked after whenever I do anything that implies going out of the house. Needless to say, I was brimming with excitement, going to a whole different continent, taking a break from my dull life. It seemed like the perfect thing at the moment.

New faces, new places, I kept thinking about leaving more and more, often as the days inched closer. There were so many things that I had to take care of prior, but I would always find myself just thinking about leaving. The day finally came. Me and my classmates got onto a plane, joked around a lot, and had a lot of fun. We stayed in Frankfurt for two days, and did a bit of tourism with some teachers who, after the two days were up, were to make sure that we all made it to our families homes safely, when we were to take our separate in-country flights.

I was to stay in a relatively small town in northern Germany, about 8,000 people, with three other classmates. I spent most of the trip from the airport a sleep, but as soon as we reached the outskirts of town, I could not tear my eyes away from the car window. Between the endless extensions of fields, the faint glow of the morning sun, looming above the dark autumn clouds, and the piles of amber-tinted leaves scattered across the sidewalks. It was a sight to behold.

I gazed at the moving landscape for what felt like ages, an ethereal moment, on a cold November day. At that time I felt nothing but peace, fog slowly started forming in front of me, snapping me back to reality as it crossed my field of vision. We got to the house at around midday. The first thing I noticed as we walked up the stairs, were little garden clay decorations, placed to the sides of the steps leading to the door. Among them, several turtles of different sizes and shapes. This will become relevant later on.

As it was still daytime when we got to the house, I decided to stay awake, so as to try not to mess up my sleeping schedule any further. I'm at the family, mother, father, two sisters aged 20 and 23, two brothers aged 18 and 7, and their dog, and now me, apparently. I'm not really a people person, you see, and even though I've been studying German since I was 5, a lot of words still escaped me, especially when I was nervous. I clung to the idea that at least one person spoke English, as that would save me when I'm most desperate. But surprisingly, none of them did. The kids knew some, but it was very rudimentary to say the least.

It was worth a shot. They gave me a warm welcome and helped me get as comfortable as one could get after a brutal 16-hour flight. I spent the first hours unpacking, trying not to fall asleep. Yet I often found myself zoning out while staring at my bedroom window, overlooking the street. The side of the last days of plump autumn foliage, filling me with a sense of peace. As night fell, the dad left to go play cards with some of his friends. The oldest brother had come home to welcome me, but as he was in the military, he was gone shortly after.

Both sisters were staying over at their respective boyfriends' houses. I was left alone with the mom and the youngest brother. After that day's whirlwind of activity, it felt eerily quiet, much quieter than that place should have been. Even though I had been in that house for less than a day, I felt as though something was awfully wrong. Wherever I went, this burning feeling in the back of my neck followed, as if someone had been glaring at me, a stare full of hatred. I ended up chalking my paranoia to the anxiety of meeting the family and having to fumble my way through my first less-than-steller conversation in German.

I'm a big over-thinker. However, I would later learn that it's best to trust one's gut in the face of uncertainty. Later that night, I was in the living room browsing their Netflix catalog, and I found one of my favorite movies, Unavailable Where I Live, The Martian. I know I wanted to watch it. After a giggling fit, the mom told me to help myself to some rice pudding in tea that she had just made for me, and the brother for dinner. He went to his room. I cozyed up on the living room couch next to the fireplace to watch the movie. As soon as I forgot about it, that horrible sensation

came back. This time, however, it felt much worse because not only was the house once again dead silent, but it was also pitch black outside. I shut the blinds to try and not get too distracted over thinking about whatever may be lurking in the shadows. I tend to see things that aren't there when my mind isn't in the best of places. I really wasn't in a good place, at all. About 20 minutes into the movie, I hear the mom going down the stairs. She had a habit of sneaking about to have a second cup of tea after dinner. Her presence comforted me, but not for long, as she was gone shortly after

wishing me a good night. I thanked her, and the silence permeated everything once again, leaving me with those thoughts in the back of my head as I attempted to focus on the movie. I heard her door click shut. As much as I tried not to think about it, that feeling lingered for what felt like the longest amount of time. I didn't know what to do to calm myself down. And that's when I heard the banging. Loud, desperate, animalistic in nature. Those were the bangs of a person whose life could very well be hanging from a thread or perhaps. Something more sinister. Whoever it was froze me in place. Suddenly everything I had felt up until that point came crashing down upon me. I could feel my heart pounding in my throat as little beads of sweat

started forming on my forehead, my whole body shook and trembled in fear. The ringing in my ears settled shortly after. I couldn't so much scream for the mom to call the police. I was just mortified. I hadn't realized it, but I started crying and quietly whimpering. The banging grew louder and louder. The only coherent thought in my head at that moment was, I don't think I'm going to make it out alive tonight. The person started screaming to be let inside or they were going to murder every single one of us. At this point, the mom came running down the stairs and told me in a whisper to hide and turn all of the lights off. I wasn't about to question her decision-making in such a critical moment, so I gave her a quick nod and did, as she said.

I tried to put on a brave face, but I failed miserably. Tears kept rolling down my face. I ran back into the living room, turned everything that emitted even a speck of light off. I intended to make that place show no signs of life, like mine depended on it. The glass door shook and judtered as the pounding grew louder. She yelled at her youngest son to call the police and let them know what was going on. A journal in rushing through my veins I managed to get up to my feet and stumbled behind the

kitchen door which faced the hallway leading to the front door. I spammed him with messages along the lines of, listen, I might not make out alive from this, there are people trying to get into the house. I'm not sure about anything right now, but I do know you're my best friend, so I'm glad I met you. Somehow I made texting him my priority then and there. Tears kept rolling down my face as I typed the messages out, and at one point my knees gave up on me. I was left hyperventilating on the floor, clenching my phone to my chest for dear life. As suddenly as the banging started, it stopped. The mom got the courage to

yell out something along the lines of, what the fuck is your problem? Leave my family home and to get off of her property because the cops have already been called. And then silence, that dreadful quiet, made itself known once more. With all the lights off, I could barely see the outline of the walls. It took all the willpower I had left, which wasn't a lot, to sneak out of the back of the door as quietly as human possible. As I got to the hallway, I saw the mom mentioning to me to move with caution, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him.

One of the very few street lamps scarcely illuminating the area, helping me make out the tall outline of a man hunched over the door. It appeared he had something in his hand, but at the time I couldn't distinguish what it was. He was ever so slightly, swinging back and forth. It was hard to see, the darkness simply engulfed everything in its path. I wanted so desperately to go into my room and hide, but I remembered my bedroom window directly overlooking the street, and the door creaks a lot when opened. I wasn't about to risk this guy seeing me try to hide in the bedroom. A sinking feeling overtook me entirely as I remembered. I left the window open. It's visible from the street, and it's a relatively big window. He could easily fit in there

had he looked for other ways to get in. I stood there completely motionless for what felt like ages, sobbing quietly, hands over my mouth as not to make a noise. After what felt like ages, sobbing quietly, hands over my mouth as not to make a noise. After what felt like forever, we finally saw police sirens. He didn't try to run for some reason, he just stayed there stumbling through the main entrance, letting himself be apprehended. Police later told us that he had gotten the wrong house, as it turns out he was staying with a group of students who had rented a place two houses down from hours, and this guy was so wasted he knocked on the wrong door. One of the more sober guys from the group was informed of what was happening.

He came and apologized profusely for his friend, who had three times a normal volume of alcohol in his blood. That object we saw him holding was a bottle of vodka. To this day I keep thinking that the only thing separating us, a defenseless family from this guy whose intentions were unknown to us, was a glass door, which very easily could have been broken by one of the many clay figurines sitting at the bottom of the stairway, leading to the door, or that very bottle he was holding. I'm not exactly sure what went down that night, but from what I've heard, they moved shortly after and the police took no further action.

I thanked my lucky stars, he didn't think of using those clay turtles to crash the door's glass pane. Every time I stayed alone in that house after that, I think back to that night and the horrors that it caused me. I now triple check all the locks on both doors and windows and make sure to close all the blinds before going to bed. Even going to the bathroom terrifies me sometimes, because I think I'll see a dark shadow just barely visible in the corner of my eye when I turn, and it'll actually be there.

Needless to say, I now listen to my gut feeling a lot more carefully. At that time, I couldn't think of anything else other than letting my friends know. I could probably die that night. Something did happen to me. I thought twice about letting my mom know, however. My stupid teenage brain thought that this was something I had to deal with myself. And telling her would only stress her out, given how she was in an entirely different continent.

So I didn't. After all of this time, she never did find out what truly went down that first night in the new home. So to the drunk guy, screaming bloody murder because we wouldn't let him in, let's never meet again. Thanks for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet the True Horror Podcast and don't forget, if you're looking for a true paranormal podcast, don't forget to check out the new episode of my other podcast Odd Trails at OddTrails.com or wherever you get your podcasts. This week you've heard Creep at the Home Haunted House by Jell-S 74, a story by Bethany,

the Jigsaw woman by Linnea, Chase Home by Curly, and finally, I thought we were alone by Jasmine. If you are an author that's had your story included in a past episode of Let's Not Meet, I urge you to check your spam or junk folders. I've been reaching out to a handful of you all. To see if you wanted to be included in this new Let's Not Meet project, I don't have a lot of details to share as we're just in the planning phases right now, but I am working with a team of some talented people. On a possible Let's Not Meet TV series, so be sure to check for that email and get back to meet if you

would like to be included. 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. As always, if you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Store, it's a gmail.com. And for you patrons, don't forget to stick around after the music for your extended, ad free version of this week's episode. And if you want to get access to that, head over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast to join

to them. See you all next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet a True Aura podcast. Stay safe! I grew up in rural southern Ohio about an hour outside of Cincinnati. 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 gigillionaire?

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