Morbid - Episode 411: Listener Tales 62

Episode Date: December 30, 2022

Listener Tales 62 is quite the mish-mosh of tales! We have hauntingly beautiful tales about the paranormal predictions of bébés, a home intruder stabbed with an unlikely weapon, and ANOTHER home intruder that ruined a gal's pizza & Ghost Adventures Night. What an asshole. If you have a Listener Tale please feel free to send it in to [e-mail] with "Listener Tale" somewhere in the subject lineSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Hey, Prime members, you can listen to morbid, early, and ad-free on Amazon music. Download the app today. You're listening to Immorbid Network Podcast. Hi, I'm Lindsay Graham, the host of Wondries Podcast American Scandal. Our newest series looks at the Kids for Cash Scandal, a story about two judges who stood accused of making millions of dollars in a brazen scheme that shattered the lives of countless children. Listen to American scandal on Amazon Music or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey weirdo's, I am Ash and I'm Olena and listener, Tails Edition.

Brought to you by you for you from you and all about you, baby. He he. What? Who? Who? If you're listening to this, I think that the holiday season is like coming. Is it coming? I think it's like the day for the holiday season. Yeah, maybe. So maybe. We don't know when anything comes out. So you know what? Happy holidays, everybody. Because we're so far ahead, you know? We're trying to record these ahead of time.

So I don't know. I think it's gonna be like you said, like the day before the holidays are hidden. It might have already happened, but you'll find out, you'll know where you are at this point in your life. Either way, you're gonna have a great time or you had a great time.

And I hope you did. I know it. She's manifesting. Manifesting. Manifesting. We just recorded a Buffy rewatcher. Epicides, you got it. Fucking. Yeah. First of all, you got to listen to that. And then second of all, you got to watch Buffy if you haven't,

because I feel so remiss in my life right now. Honestly, watching Ash get so excited about it, it's been so much fun. It's so good. We just watched School Hard, which is when Spike shows up, which is my episode, everybody. I was saying in the episode you should go listen, but I was saying that Alaina over-promised,

but the episode over-delivered. Exactly, so it all worked out in the end. But this isn't the re-watcher, this is morbid, and it's a listener tale that we're pretty fucking excited to hang out with you guys right now. Let's do it. Let's do this. Deb Deb got together a whole bunch of good tales for us and this one has a baby. Yeah, this one has a baby. Do you want to start it? Would you like me to? Ah, you can start with this one. What? Yeah, the ghost, the pigeon, and my unborn baby.

Sounds like you want to start. I'm just kidding. You're like, well, what the fuck? Sounds like you want to start. I'm just kidding. You're like, well, what the fuck? All right, well, let's start with that one. It says, Hello, ladies. I am stoked to finally send this email. I've thought about sending this in for some time,

but honestly, just couldn't find the time to sit down and type it all up. That's probably like the hasty to do the baby, I feel. I would think so. Well, I just put the babe to sleep. My four-legged friends are curled up next to me. Wow, I'm so jealous. I want sounds lovely. And I've been listening to listener tails all day. So call me inspired. Inspired. I have a attached to 12-point font, double spaced Pudipa that takes about nine minutes to read. Oh, look at you guys. The facts that you guys are telling me out now is like a show everything.

I hope you enjoy listening to this lighthearted tale as much as I've enjoyed living it. I've attached picks of all the animals, my boyfriend and I, and obviously the bebe. The bebe. The bebe. Feel free to share any picks of the animal. Sonny is the kitty, Mumford is the Dalmatian, and Chalk, Chalk's 100% pure bread, good boy.

AKA a mutt, pure bread, good boy. I love it. Oh my God, you two are beautiful. Truly. What? Truly garbage. Like what in your animals in your baby? Oh, I was like, where are you seeing them? Oh my god. Cheese. Oh my god, love. All the television, the cat, the baby, it's beautiful. Hello, baby, it's the QSL baby. I want a boop-a-t head. Oh my god, I am booping it in my mind. is the cuteness of a baby. I want a boop-a-tad. Oh my god, I am booping it in my mind.

Ah! Oh my god, those cheecles. I love it. Also, it says exo exo-riz. Use that shit. No one on an anonymity here. Hell yeah. Did it.

Did it. Listener tails, the ghost, the pigeon, and my unborn baby. Hi, ladies. Feel free to use my name. It's Riz. Riz. That's a cool last name. I'm not going to sit here and go into great detail

about how much I adore both of you. Just kidding. You guys are absolute queens of morbidity, morality, and malice. That's a good one. I love that. And I cannot explain how much I enjoy listening to your banter and tips to avoid being the subject

of one of your episodes one day. Thanks. I've been listening for about two years, going through periods of binging several episodes a day at times, but took a hiatus over the past three months after my son was born, because as scary as humanity was before, that shit gets way more intimidating when you're trying to keep a beautiful perfect, helpless sack of skin and bones alive. So true. I could see that. All of a sudden, everything is so much scarier. I know. I say that to Elena all the time.

Like the pressure you must feel. Oh yeah. Cause like you made that. Yeah. And you have to like really take care of that. And it's like responsibility to take care of that but also this like primal need to take care. It is like an overwhelming like,

I will lay down my life and die for this thing. So like, I really don't want to have to, but I will. I like that kind of thing. I felt that way about the girls before, but I can't imagine how that feeling will change when it gets my own kids. It's wild. Because I'm like, if I feel this strongly about protecting them,

I can't imagine how I will feel in ruin to you. Being a mom. What are your kids came home with a shitty story from school today? And I was like, I'm going to hurt someone. I would never. But anyways, but mom was not pleased with a shitty story from school today and I was like, I'm gonna hurt someone. I would never, but yeah. Anyways, but Mama was not pleased with a little boy in class. Just saying.

Yeah, we're not gonna get into details. We're not gonna get into details, but... Fuck you. But I'm coming for you. And for anybody who thinks I'm being serious because that's happened before. Are you serious? Yeah, the world is weird, man.

And there's been people who are like, she says she'll bid up kids. Or mean to her kids. I'm not gonna fuck up a kid. Like calm the fuck down. The funny thing is too, I'm the one that said it, but you'd get this before you.

But you know what, here, I'm coming for you, little boy. Okay, leave them waiting. But not really, okay. But really, I'm scared. I'm coming for you little boy. Okay, leave them waiting. But not really, okay. But really, I'm scared. I'm fucking serious. But it's a last. I just couldn't stay away.

This mom is like, I gotta go. But alas, I just couldn't stay away. And the past week has been spent catching up. It's been amazing. Also, if you read this, I will literally pee on myself. But don't worry, I'm probably wearing a card because I now pee a little every time I laugh, run, cry, cough, sneeze, et cetera. Just mom things.

I also know that to be true, and that's not something I'm ready for. Honestly, at that point, you're just like, eh, never right, I guess I pee now. People would say that a lot. Yeah, nothing really bothers you after childbirth. Yeah, I mean, can't imagine anything. True would.

You're like, well, I pee now. If I think too much about childbirth, I have to leave. So let's get into it. There's a lot of backfill to this story. So bear, bear with me. I never know the difference either. I don't know, grammar's hard. Until we moved into the house, my mom and stepdad live in now,

I grew up moving every year, so due to my dad's job. Thanks, Navy. Hey, my dad too. Mine too. And my grandpa, because 10%. The house is an 1856 antebellum farmhouse. And we moved here when I was in seventh grain. It needed a lot of work. And we spent the Holy Haude as hell days of Mississippi in July renovating this place. Wow, that's terrific. Over the course of 166 years,

this house has been around. It served many purposes. It was a post office during the Civil War, housed many families as an inn and many more generations along the way until my dope ass family took over in 2006. I wish you would see my arm movement. That's bad ass. That's what could cool. While we were renovating, we were all sitting on the steps of the front porch, taking turns drinking out of the hose. When a nine-year-old man marched right through our front yard, stood with his hands on his hips and stated, I was born in your living room. Iconic. Which was now our kitchen.

And that image haunted me through many of family dinner. I was born in your living room. I wish I could say that to someone. That's awesome. I'm just gonna get it. Let me start by saying that my mom is a badass, and probably wasn't much of a believer in the paranormal before this home.

She wasn't closed off, just didn't have much to go on. But as soon as we moved in, before the renovations began, my mom walked through the whole house, room by room, and introduced herself to anything or anyone that lingered. News flash, spirits aren't the biggest fans of change. No, I did that one. Me and you did to my house too.

Yeah, you can't record things. I am a spirit. You are. Over the years, we heard plenty of unexplained noises, glass crashing upstairs with nothing broken or disturbed upon investigation. Cabinets that tipped over on their own or the sounds of beds moving with no one in them.

Not sure what the ghosties were up to at those times. Whoa, spicy. Oh, no bad vibes ever came from this. We all felt like we were buds. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't blame the ghost for the night that I snug out and back in. And my, and my mom woke up to the back door slamming, shout out to the ghost if you're listening. We love that they come with.

They're listening with AirPods right now. They're like, I got you. That was me. No problem. Several years after moving in, one of my mom's friends came to stay with us. She stayed in one of the downstairs bedrooms. Upon waking after her first night, she asked if we had ever seen any ghosts. And my mom said, we hadn't, but that we did hear things every now and again. She went on to say, latent, yeah, she went on to say, latent the night, she woke up and saw the silhouette of a short stout woman standing near the window turned and sat on the foot of the bed.

No. There was no fear. And her friend couldn't explain why she hadn't seen, excuse me, her friend couldn't explain away what she'd seen and stated she felt crazy, but knew what she saw. I don't want a ghost to sit on my bed. No, I don't want that even. Like, I understand that your bed was in this room at one point, but this is my bed. It's not your bed. Yeah, this is my bed. Get out me bed.

Yeah. It's important to note that we don't just go on advertising our ghosts. If people ask, we will tell them about the noises, but wouldn't mention other people's experiences. Sometime within the next two years, my stepdad's sister and brother-in-law came to visit. My aunt has never met the friend with the first experience, but after several nights, she awoke and asked the exact same question with the exact same story. She awoke

in the night at some point, saw a silhouette that turned and sat at the foot of the bed. Wow. When my mom told me about these experiences, I was skeptical. It didn't happen to me, so it probably wasn't true, right? Of course not. Wrong. Fast forward these experiences. I was skeptical. It didn't happen to me. So it probably wasn't true, right? Of course not. Wronged. Fast forward to 2019. I graduated college, gone to nursing school, badass.

Well, we didn't even plan that. Oh, wow, and look where he works. I'd gotten my first job as an RN in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at a children's hospital in Alabama. You are a badass. Hmm, hmm. A goddess.

I had had my dog, Mumford, for about three years, and decided that he needed a companion during those 12 hour shifts. So I adopted a cat named her Sunny. I've attached some pictures because duh. Thank you. One weekend, I packed up the four-legged farm, fam, and headed home to see the human fam.

Mumford always sleeps under the covers, and Sunny roams and sleeps wherever her highness sees us. We were staying in the downstairs guest room. Mumford was in his usual place, taking up 90% of the bed and I was out cold. I'm a very light sleeper and woke up when sunny hopped up and laid at the foot of the bed. But when I opened my eyes, she was very content and deeply sleeping on the mantle on the old fireplace in the room. And you guessed it, a light silhouette of a short-stout woman was seated at the foot of my bed. I don't know how to explain the feeling.

I was stoked and also almost peed on myself. I think the fear came from the surprise of it all because there was absolutely no bad energy coming from home, girl. When I woke the next morning, I promptly told my mom and she asked if I believed her now. Apparently, this was a woman from some three or four generations before we bought the house and was known to be a quiet and strict woman. She kept the house very clean and that's about all we knew. She was clean, quiet and strict.

I mean, imagine if that's just all you're known for, just being clean, quiet, and strict. Well, already on numero uno and numero dos, no. You're like cleaning quiet, maver. I'm messy and loud. It's not strict. No, no, maybe someday, but maybe. I don't know.

But I don't know. I don't know. All right, stick with me. The backstory is fun, but it's the best part. But this is the best part. Fast forward one more time to December 2021. When my amazing boyfriend and I had just gotten back from traveling around Europe for a couple of years.

Look at you two. Jet Setters. We spend the summers working our asses off on Martha's Vineyard. Yes, baby. On the Vineyard Camp. On the fucking Vineyard. Shout out Massachusetts. We're a Vineyard family.

Hell yeah, my friend worked on the vineyard for some years. That's funny. I wonder if you know her. I'm not gonna say her last name. And typically take a couple months off at the end of the year to travel and see family. He's an executive chef, oh fucking K. That's bad ass.

And no joke works from 6.30 AM till 10.30 or 11.00 PM. Six days a week from mid May through September. That's nearly a year's worth of work placed in two, five months. So he deserves a good break at the end. Yeah, I would say so. I digress. You don't even have to.

No. We had come back from Europe and we're visiting my mom and stepdad in Mississippi. The house sits on 23 acres. And my mom jokes that there must be a neon sign floating in the sky that states, come here to die. We've had five cows, three donkeys, Bosogean and Tonic.

Of course. Two horses, Gracie and Mima. Yes. Six great Danes and several street dogs, chickens and a turkey. Wow. All of which were rescues. No joke, my mom snuck onto our neighbor's property

at midnight after he had been evicted by his own family and rescued this turkey that he'd left behind. She's an actual angel on earth. Yes. Every animal that crosses her path is better because of it. All that being said, it just feels like animals just know that this is a safe haven

and come here to live out their days. I'm obsessed with that. It's like magic, I feel. That is magic. Yeah, wherever that is, that you're living, it's magic. Wow. On the day we arrived, a pigeon appeared in our cardboard, and it was odd because it just lingered for several days.

It was like, hey, it was apparent, it was malnourished, and had no tail feathers, deeming it incapable of flying away. It had a band on its leg, and my mom was committed to finding out where this pigeon came from, and returning it to its quote-unquote home. But after managing to catch the pigeon,

identify the company that banded it, a racing pigeon group in Louisiana, and being told that they did not want the pigeon back. That's rude. My mom knew she had adopted her newest rescue to the farm. We named him Pidge. I love looking into the symbolism of animals that appear. We're meeting this right now because I did that this morning. Yeah, you're right.

That's weird. Yeah, creepy. Well, when I looked into what it means when a single pigeon appears to you, per Google, quote, pigeons are symbolic of fertility and prosperity, fortune, luck, and transformation. We joked with my mom about her being fertile and went on with our days.

The next morning after a fun night with my boyfriend. Yeah, yeah, judge me for messing around at my parents' house. Our girls got needs, okay? I would never judge risk. Never. Everybody does it. Literally.

He woke up and casually asked over coffee. Have you guys ever seen anything weird in the house? My mom and I immediately looked at each other and smiled a bit. After asking him what he meant, he said, I know it sounds completely insane, but I woke up in the middle of the night, and I could have sworn there was like a little old lady standing by the window just looking outside. Jesus.

We proceeded to tell him that he was not alone, and several other people had experienced the same thing. His response was anticlimactic and nonchalant. He grew up in a house with weird shit happening all the time, so this was not a new experience. Christmas came and went, but my period did not. Ah! We found out that I was pregnant the day after Christmas, and when looking back, the only time that little homie could have been conceived was on the night we saw the ghost, and the weak pitch came to us.

I'm obsessed. Pige had seamlessly, a similated, I don't know why I can say that, into the chicken coop and was living his best life fattening up and growing out that little tail of his. Oh, Pidge, she would graze with the chickens in the afternoons and perched with them at night. We thought he had found his forever home. Slowly he started flying again.

First in very short spurts and then in small circles around the house, gradually getting higher and higher. Until one day, February 10th to be exact, he flew in circles and never came back. Oh, this was also the and never came back. Aww. This was also the day of my first OB appointment and the first time we heard our little dude's heart rate. Oh my god, that was it.

That was it. Symbolica's fuck. This is wonderful. We can't help but believe that Pidge came into our lives as the best little omen and only stuck around until he knew his job was done. As for the ghost, I'm sure she knew and we are thankful for her presence. Our son was born three months ago

and is absolutely perfect. He sure is. He has two four-legged brothers, Mum, Curt, and Shawn, and I got in there picks below. Feel free to share any picks you want of the dogs. Thanks for listening, and I hope you do actually keep it so weird that you go on to live in a chill ass on a house where the ghosts have your back

through your hood, rat shit, to make it to yours. I can see you through your firstborn child and also so weird that you go on to live in a chill ass on a house where the ghosts have your back through your hood rat shit and see you through your firstborn child and also so weird that you get to live on a farmer animals come to your retiring and give you signs about your future. Bye! Riz! I love that and your family is so beautiful. The cutest little fam. The cutest little no get. I am so glad that pitch told you about your little baby. I know, right? I'm so glad. So beautiful. Oh, I just love it. Oh, man, Riz, I love you.

Hey there, fellow podcast listener. It's Elena. And Ash. And Ash! And we're taking you back to the days before streaming services. Whoa! You know when you would come home from high school and it was only a few hours until that TV show everyone was watching was about to come on. Well, in 1999, that show was Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

In our podcast with Wondery, the re-watcher Buffy the Vampire Slayer, we take it back to 1999. So get out your knee high boots and paste that poster of Angel on the wall. It's time to enter the Buffyverse. Some of you avid morbid listeners already know what we've gotten store. Hey, Lennos.

Join us as we sway our way through Buffy's drama, action and romance! Episode by Episode Slacy. Follow the rewatcher, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen early and add free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app. Darn, ee-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e Oh. Oh. All right, what am I gonna read next? Let's see. Um, the time I stabbed a home intruder with tweezers. Yeah, that'll do.

Does that sound cool? Yeah, it sounds pretty badass. Sounds pretty cool, okay? And it is Corey, and it's okay to use your name. Yay! Howdy ho! From when I've gathered from listener tails. She's just getting super-southern.

Maybe you said from what I'm gathered. From what I gathered from listener tails. It sounds like a double space puttful is appreciated. So I have attached all details in such format. Thank you. I'm not going too. Thank you, Tad long. But it comes with twists and turns that are all imperative to the plot line.

Whenever I tell this story, people are left speechless. So I hope it's worth it. Thanks so much for the time and energy you put into everything you do for your fans and listeners. And I'm sending all the love and light to the morbid family. Aw, thank you so much. Those are so sweet. Love and light right back at you. For real.

Howdy squirrel friends. Ha ha! You can use my full name in this story since my name and face are already in an ABC 7 news clip about it. Smileyface. There you go. Before jumping in, I must include the obligatory thanks for the work that you both put into the pod and your many other projects. Your stories are so well told and detailed that an hour and a half feels like nothing. Thank you. This story is long, but each detail is key.

Now, about how I stabbed a guy with tweezers. In 2014, I was living in a part of Chicago near a lot of 4am bars. Damn, I didn't even know they're worse than 1am bars. I didn't even know they're worse than bars. We're from Boston and it ends real early here. On one Monday in September, I woke up in the wee dark hours of the morning to the sound of footsteps in my bedroom. And then you shit, your pants, shit, shit, your pants.

I called out to ask if it was my roommate, whose room was downstairs and who never came up to my room. But when I didn't get an answer, I sat up to see a man standing about a foot away from the end of my bed. Oh my God. My brain, as it is, won't to do, tried to try to test to rationalize this situation by screaming logical questions at him. Who are you? Maybe someone my roommate took home? Why are you at my house? I don't know. Maybe my roommate let one of my friends in. But quickly realized this person was not in a clear state of mind because all I got

back was groans and mumbles. Oh my god. As I started screaming for him to get the fuck out of my house, he slowly began walking around to the side of the bed that I was lying on. Oh my God! I hate this. Now TMI, perhaps, but I sleep naked. That's okay. At this food, that's okay. That's, it's scientific, actually, that that's a better night's sleep.

There you go. At this point, I'm feeling very trapped, because while there was a small space between the other side of the bed and the wall for me to try to escape to, my down mass thought, well, I don't want to stand up naked. As if this person seeing me naked was the most of my fears. No, I got that.

Face palm times a thousand. No, no, you did the right thing. Instead, all of the things that my cop uncle had taught his nieces flooded into my brain at the exact right time, as this man was literally crawling over my naked body to get into bed with me. Oh my God. I thought, look for a weapon within arms reach. I had kept a hammer in my nightstand drawer.

Good for you, man. For real. But by now, this guy was fully on top of me and I couldn't reach it. What I could reach was a pair of tweezers on my nightstand. I like to put my brows in bed, okay? And they were the really pointy kind. I know exactly what you're

talking about. So I grabbed them and jammed them into his arm as hard as I could. Hell yeah. This man's reaction was so odd, it made me pause. He just yelped and whimpered, almost like an animal that had been struck and was confused about what it had done wrong. But it was enough for him to retreat again very slowly very slowly, off my bed, and out of my room. As soon as he was out of the door, I closed it, locked it, and called 911, while I finally got a chance to put some damn clothes on. Like my uncle Tadas, I'd been visually making note of his appearance as he came around my bed, so I gave them all his physical and sartorial details. Amazing. Wow, you're good for real. Again, this was a two-story

apartment, but the stairs were those rickety metal spiral stairs that clang when you walk down them. And I never got the hang of them, but I had heard this guy walking down them after he left my room like it was no problem. The second thing that made me think something was really off here. Yeah. That's when I remembered my roommate downstairs. Still on the line with the 911 operator, I started a head downstairs thinking this fucker must have left by now if he had any sense because he would have heard me calling the police. I called my roommate that someone was in the house

and to lock her door while I went and checked the locks. You're a badass for going down there. You really are. I am very light sensitive and can operate in the dark easily. So I didn't bother, it didn't bother me turning the lights on when I went into the front and back always. Or I didn't bother turning the lights on. So I didn't bother, sorry, I didn't bother turning the lights on

when I went into the front and back always. Well, that was the second dumb thing I did that night because when I reached for the back door's lock, there he was. No, standing there, just huddling in the corner by the door. What the fuck is this guy doing? I stabbed him again. I calm. I love how you wrote. I stabbed him again. You were like one small stab you again.

roommate opened her door, yelled for me to come in. We barricaded ourselves into her room until we heard the cops radios and the gangway outside the window. The police came in through the back and since the back door was always locked, he took that to mean the man had finally fled and left the door open. Nope. When we finally, when he, when we finally felt safe enough to come out, there were two cops, an older veteran standing there waiting for us to come out, and a younger one that was questioning the dude in the back hallway. Oh my God. Yeah. This guy, they caught the guy I described perfectly and in detail as he was coming out of our apartment. I'd listened in on what they were saying,

and it was immediately clear that this dude was fucking gone so out of his gorge. When the cop asked what his name was, where he lived and why he was there, he couldn't even give his name or address, and all he kept mumbling was, I'm so tired, I just want to sleep. Like go to your own house.

And it's like he could barely stand up against the wall. Like, did he have head trauma when it was going on? I think he was just like, who's suited from the 4A embossed. The younger cop eventually came in and took my statement, well, the veteran did a walk through the place. That's when the younger cop asked,

what's in your hand, Miss? I was still holding the tweezers, complete with a small spot of blood at the very sharp point. The cop laughed and then said, I'm sorry, it's just that I'm fairly new and I'm seeing tweezers as a weapon for the first time. And then I left too. I told the cop my story and he asked his questions, did he hurt you, did he grab you, did he appear to have a weapon? Do you know if he took anything, did you feel like you were in danger? Did I feel like I was in danger, dude? Like someone's in my fucking house.

I was naked and he was crawling over me in bed. Yeah, I felt like I was in a little bit of danger, dude. Yeah. No, I felt great. I felt like I was gonna be story time. Like what the fuck? Yeah, right. Now here's where the story really deviates

from most home invasions. I told the cop, no, I never felt unsafe. What? What? Yes, you did, I never felt unsafe. What? What? Yes, you did. And that was true. What? Looking back, even when he was crawling into my bed, I knew somewhere in my lizard brain that he wasn't trying to assault or rape me. It truly did seem he just wanted to go to bed. And the only reason I stabbed him was to get him off me.

Okay. Wow. You're kind of badass. I'm your partner. You are. Wow. His charge was of badass. I'm not sure. You are. Wow. His charge was criminal trespassing. Fast forward to the court proceedings.

This is already wicked long, so I'll breeze past the part where he showed up to his first hearing in North Face and jeans without a lawyer. Wow. And the time when he declared he would be breaking bail to visit his partner in California for the Christmas, for Christmas, to skip right to the actual trial. Because by now, I'm sure you're all wondering

what the fuck he was doing in my bedroom at 4 a.m. on a Monday. Yes. His side of the story goes as such. He was working as a nurse at a hospital. Immediately, no. He had stolen some drugs from said hospital to go to party at 4 a.m. club a few blocks down the street. The fuck?

You stole drugs from the hospital. After closing, he was too tired to go all the way home. So instead that, I'll go crash at my exes. Yup. When this random dude was crawling into my bed in the middle of the night, he thought he was crawling into bed with his ex. How did he get in?

How did he get in, you ask? My fucking ass, twat of a landlord, never changed the locks. And this dude had been given a key by his ex, the previous tenant. Oh the way that I would literally sue my fucking landlord. I don't know for what, but wow. Wow, it all made sense then. He came through the back door downstairs that we never lock.

He had no problem getting, he had no problem getting down those rickety metal stairs because he had done so many times before. And he was confused as to why he was being stabbed because he had come and crashed at his exes like this before, presumably without getting stabbed twice. Presumably. His lawyer also argued he couldn't have been in my bedroom to commit a crime rape assault because he was gay. And a gay man couldn't possibly hurt a woman.

A defense my gay ADA did not take quite kindly to. But the judge agreed and he walked. No drug course, no supervision, no probation. Oh my God. I cried in the chambers for a half hour because I just couldn't believe this person who was caught leaving my house while high on drugs. He had just stolen from his job at hospital

was getting off with no punishment. Yeah, like what the fuck precedent does that set? As I've said, I know he didn't mean to hurt me, but it felt so wrong. He could cause so much harm with no repercussions. That's the thing. It's like he learns literally the only thing he learns from this is that nothing's going to happen if you did that. Yeah, that's fine that you did that. But my mother reminded me he would probably never work as a nurse again, especially not after I got the story on Chicago's ABC News and website. So it's forever burned into the eyes of the internet. And most likely, had quite a lot of explaining to do to his partner in California, who was

just now learning that he was regularly crashing with his ex in the middle of the night. Wolf sucks to suck. My super mom also took the initial news of the event like a champ she is. After I told her she burst into tears and I assured her I was safe physically and emotionally, but she said through sobs, no it's not that, it's just that I'm so proud of you because you're a fighter and not a fighter. And I've carried that with me in scary situations ever since. I'll leave you on a funny note, because this happened at 4am by the time the cops left, and I was coming down from the adrenaline rush, it was about 6.30am, which is about the time I

would get ready for work. At this point, I did not feel safe in the house while my landlord finally went about changing locks, so sure. Why not go to work for the distraction at least? So I got on the train to work, I happened to be 10 minutes late, which made for a perfect entrance. What happened? You're never late. We were worried.

Oh, so sorry, I didn't text. I stabbed a guy this morning after he broke into my bedroom at 4am, so I was dealing with the cops and all that. Wow. And then slap my police report down on the desk for dramatic effects. I'm obsessed with you. To this day, if someone starts giving me shatter, causing me trouble, my friends will warn them quite deadpan.

Be careful. Cory once stabbed a guy. Twice. And that, my pod friends, concludes the best dinner party story I have ever had. Take good care of yourselves, Corey. I would say YouTube, but you do. You do, but I'm not worried about you.

No, Corey, you're not it. You're a G. Corey, that holy shit. Fucking great. What quick thinking you had? For real. And I'm glad you had it because whether you were scared or not, a man crawling over my naked body and my bed in the middle of the night is...

That would bring me fear. That's gonna bring me some fear, so I'm pretty proud of you. I'd be living on fear street. I want to... Damn. My goodness gracious. You got a wild, my goodness gracious. My grand described. All right, my next lesson of is called a wholesome spooky morbidness in the tale. And it says. And it says. I just say, I have to zoom in and give me a sec. Hey, weirdos, I have attached the usual,

a double space putt of fur. I think that's how you spell it. It's called a horror of the fuck you want. Yeah, for your reading pleasure. Before you all get into my story, though, I wanted to say thank you, ladies, for keeping me entertained while I work in a smelly old garage with my husband and one year old son. If y'all decide

to read this on the podcast, I'll probably cry happy tears as I've been listening to y'all for quite a while and now finally worked up the nerve to send in a listener tale of my own. But any who, thanks for all y'all do, I hope you enjoy my little tale and can get past my all my bad grammar and run on sentences Trigger warning this story does mention suicide Thanks. Thank you for that and that was really so nice of you to say all those last things about us Oh, and you can use your first name and I can use your name. Shalbe. Shalbe Drink the juice. Shalbe. Shalbe. Sorry. You probably got that a lot. Hey there You lovely ladies. My name is Shelby. Feel free to use it along with all the other names in this story.

Shailba. Shailba. I'm from a town that's so small, you've probably never heard of it. This teensy little town is located in the Appalachian or Appalachian, depending where you live. Mountains on the very tip of North Carolina were Georgia and Tennessee meet. It's a party. Geography. Woo! Hey! Now, when I say small, I mean, I was, she malfunctioned, I was like, oh, go watch. When I say small, I mean, population of just over 500. Whoa! Our nearest Walmart is over 45 minutes away,

and our only decent hospital is just over two hours away. Oh my god. Not a fun car ride when your eight centimeters dilated about to push a kid out you, who ha? No, that's terrifying. No, not fun. So much birth. That's just as me.

Anyways, this is the type of place where everyone knows everyone and finding a spouse that you're not really good to is quite difficult. I know that must be tough. Yeah, that must be tough. Like most of the older generation in this town, my great-grandparents Ruth aka Nanny and Malca, oh Nanny I don't know why I've read that wrong aka Nanny and Malcom were farmers. They grew tobacco and raised cattle on their 100 acre farm. Damn they had five children together, one of which they named Oteza. Oteza! I love that. After Oteza

grew up and got married, she hadn't her husband, Mike, bought some land right next to her parents' farm. They built a house there and had a life and a family of their own. I feel like this is beautiful and it's not gonna be. Yeah, so I'm just gonna happen here. So I'm so, though. Yeah, super awesome. Several years later on Christmas, my mama announced to the whole family that she and her husband will call him Drung Darryl if he were needed to be mentioned again in the story anymore, but he isn't. So I'll hug. All right.

They were expecting their first child. Odessa, my mom's aunt, was ecstatic. She told my mom she knew she just knew it was going to be a girl and she almost immediately began making hand-sown dresses and blankets. Oh, Odessa. That is so sweet. As my mom grew further along in her pregnancy, she learned that Odessa was right,

and she was, in fact, having a little girl. Surprise, it was me. It was you? It was, yeah. She'll be. So when I was born four weeks early, only time I have ever been early to anything. Odessa was one of the first to come see me.

Shortly after my grand-end trance into the world, the whole family gathered at Nini's farm to celebrate her birthday. We held most of our family gatherings at their farm because Malcolm had bailed a covered picnic area that was just perfect for sitting outside during the warm summer months. I love this. It's so cool. This is a doorhole. I'm so terrified. Yeah. On this day, my mom hardly got in the door before her does a rushed up to her and scooped me up. Like every other time she had got to hold me, I was asleep. Odessa plopped down in the chair in the corner of the room, and there she stayed that entire day, just holding and rocking me, the little girl she had always wanted. As the party dwindled down and everyone headed home, Odessa reluctantly handed me back to my mom and said,

now miss Julie, this baby is going to grow up and never getting to see her on to Odessa. She's always asleep. Mom just laughed at her and put me into the car so we could go home. Now before I go on, it's important to note that Mike, Odessa's husband, had served some time in the army. He must have experienced some pretty awful things during his time because he suffered from severe PTSD and depression. Being from a small rural town, mental illness was not something that was talked about, much less mental illness and men. Men in this area were taught to never show emotions,

be tough, suck it up, and provide for their families. But when Mike's PTSD began affecting his career, he decided to seek treatment at a mental health institution upstate. Good for him. Yeah, he deserves that. There, he received treatment and was sent home institution upstate. Good for him. Yeah, he deserves that. There, he received treatment and was sent home a few short weeks later. But I mean, most treatments back then were about as effective as a smack on this. They did prescribe him some kind of medication, though, but he believed it just meant his depression worse. So he stopped taking it shortly after returning home, of course. Okay, now back to the story.

A few weeks after the family gathering, Mike's symptoms began to worsen. He asked Odessa if she should take him back to the mental health institution that he really needed help this time. As the caring wife she was, she agreed to take him. But because it was such a long trip, they would have to wait until the end of the week.

Mike left work early that next evening, claiming he didn't feel good and just needed to go home. He called one of the local sheriff's deputies to come sit with him until Odessa could get home from work because he just didn't want to be alone. This is hurting my heart. I want to hug Mike. The deputy came and sat with him throughout the evening. I'm so happy that he did joking and laughing about their good old high school days.

Oh, does her arrived home that evening and everything seemed fine. She called nanny her mom to let her know that she would be gone early in the morning, not to worry that she was just going to be taking Mike back up state. Nanny woke up the next morning and saw both Mike and Odessa's vehicles still sitting in their driveway. She thought that maybe he had just changed his mind about going back and like any good mother would, she went to check on her daughter. She knocked and knocked, but no one came to the door.

She figured maybe they had just overslept, and because their bedroom was in the back of the house, they just couldn't hear her knocking. She walked back to her house and tried calling their home phone, no answer. Her heart began to sink. She called the sheriff's office and asked them to come to a welfare check. While she waited for the police, she called my grandma and mom to let them know that something was wrong and they needed to come to her house fast. My mom at the ambulance at the bottom of their road, and because the lights and sirens were turned off, she just knew that everything had to be fine. Probably just a misunderstanding, right? Sadly, she was wrong. When she rounded the corner and pulled up into their driveway, she quickly learned the real story.

When the police had arrived, they couldn't get anyone to answer either. And with the pit and her stomach rising, Ninny had asked them to bust in the door. Inside their master bedroom, they but they found both Mike and Odessa. Mike had shot and killed Odessa that night while she slept, and shortly after, killed himself by the same means. Wow. Ambulances were called immediately upon finding them and the hopes that they could be saved, but it was too late. Oh my God, that breaks my heart.

I'm so sorry that your family had to go through this. After hearing the tragic news, my mom opened the back door of her car to check on me and it's the chaos. Good job, Mama. And there I was asleep in my car seat. I'd never got to see my aunt Odessa just like she had said. And if I had not been born early, Odessa would have never gotten to see me either. Wow. Wow. My whole entire body. Literally chills everywhere. I'm so happy that she got to see you. This is like making me want to cry. Seriously. A while later later my mom had gone back to Mike and Odessa's old home to look for some

pictures. She let me down on the floor to play while she while she searched around their house. She could hear me laughing and playing so she didn't think anything of it when I got up and started walking around too. Their old bedroom door stayed locked so there was no harm in me being the nosy kid I was just wandering around. After some time she found what she was looking for so she started to go down the hall to get me so we could go. To her absolute horror she found their bedroom door wide open. She ran into the room, scooped my little ass up and out the front door we went. Later that day mom asked me what I was doing in there anyway. I told her how the nice lady had opened the door and told me to come in and sit with her.

I'm gonna cry right now. I'm not even joking. I went on and on about how I thought she was beautiful and was just so sweet. Mom is jaw nearly fell in her lap. Fast forward and I'm now a very proud mom of myself. I love getting the hear stories of the gorgeous lady that I never got to know and just how much she loved me and the she oh my god. A seriously. In the short time that she knew me. I also love a good ghost story, especially ones that involve our little town. So when our local high school started hosting a ghost tour through one of the cemeteries that here I had to go. My friend and I piled into the janky little uphill ride and listened to all the local true

crown stories and history of people who were buried in that very cemetery. As we approached Odeza's grave, I turned to my friend and said, I wonder if I'll see her again one day. You know, I was too little to remember the time I saw her at her house. No more than the words had left my mouth. The biggest shooting star. My whole body. I'd ever seen burst out of the night sky. It glids so bright and different shades of purple, blue, and pink chased it across the top of her tombstone. Well, I think you just did. She said a little too sarcastically.

Oh my God, those beautiful things. Seriously, this made me want to cry. We both laughed and joked about how the star definitely had to be her for the rest of the tour. I secretly wished on that star that night. Oh, like you're gonna kill me right now. Stop! I wish that one day I could have a little girl too.

One that I would, oh my god, stop it. One that I would proudly name after her. Lowen behold, a few short weeks later, my husband and I found out that we were expecting our second child. I have a feeling that it's going to be a little girl. Wow, you're literally making me tear up. Oh, yeah, she's tearing up and that's crazy. Holy shit. Wow, that was beautiful. I'm so happy for you.

I hope you enjoyed my wholesome spoon. I do. It's a little tale and I've attached a picture of Odeza holding me at the family gathering. I saw her and she was absolutely stunning. Oh, and what a like sweet lady. That's a beautiful photo. I have several more stories, including one about how a murderer kept my husband from taking me to the hospital when I was in labor. Please show that.

Another about a hellhound that Rome is a different cemetery here. Tell me about that. Yeah. Annie, who I hope you keep it weird, but not so weird that your family is not as wholesome as this listeners. Are you joking me? I, I think you got to keep it. Like, oh my god, I love Odessa. I do too. What a sweet looking, and that is the picture of her actually holding you

at that and look how happy she looks. She's just like the sweetest looking lady. She is the kind of shyness and the most beautiful hair. And you can tell she's so happy holding you. She is. Wow. Thank you for sharing that one because that was beautiful. That was really beautiful. And I love all the baby stuff happening in this episode. I love it. I know.

Debted. Debted. My goodness. Oh! All right. I don't think this one's going to be as awesome. I'm going to end on the time some freezer burnt steaks almost got me killed. Okay. Okay. All right, I don't think this one's gonna be as wholesome. I'm gonna end on the time some freezer burnt steaks almost got me killed. Okay, okay. All right, all right.

A precautionary tale to not be so kind as strangers on the internet. I think, yeah, definitely everybody remember that. Well, hello ladies, my name is Jordan and you are absolutely welcome to use my name. Hello Jordan. Hey Jordan. This here is a double space and 14 point putt of foot

explaining how some freezer runt steaks legit almost got my 19 year old at the time asked, marked, oh no, no joke. I've sent in this tail once before, but I cringe reading it over and I truly feel I could do my trauma better than that, you know. I'm well aware that you guys will never shorten the tail,

so I won't even bother with apologizing for the length. We shall hop right on into the singing of praises for you, majestic, sometimes spooky and kooky, wonderful humans. I love it. Hi, I love you. I love you too. I love you. I discovered your podcast during the initial lockdown of 2020. You know, the time we all decided to try out new hobbies that we haven't gone back to since we're turning to a somewhat normal work and life schedule. Yep, me too. I started taking my swing at sewing again, and you guys me got me through endless hours of poking my fingers with an needle,

and pure ADHD driven creativity. And everyone everyone was making those whipped coffees. Yes, everybody. I just never made one of those again. I never got to do it. Oh, I did it. Oh, I didn't do it. I never did it again.

Yeah, you didn't. I don't know how much your podcast. Yeah, you didn't. You didn't do it. I don't know how much your podcast. Yeah, you didn't. You didn't do it. I didn't know how much your podcast would mean to me at the time, but I've listened to every episode at least three times over, and you guys joined me on my hour alone commute to work every day.

I knew I was feeling a little extra tired. You're a professional body piercer in Cincinnati, Ohio. Ooh, that's awesome. That's a witchy-cho. Shout out to my coworker, Wendy, who is also a huge fan of you guys. What's up, Wendy? We're done! I basically get paid to slap some sparkles on people for a day so we can clean books out of people's noses. I love it. Can't lie. You guys recently covered some spooky amusement parks near me and I just want you to know from this day forward. I'll pee myself every time it

happened across a small wandering child at King's Island. Good. For Ash, I'm also a Gemini. June second baby. Oh, June Gemini. And you are very close to me in age, so I feel like we are bonded in some weird astrological sense. We are. Alaina, you are the dark and dreamy mother figure. I never knew I needed.

I love that. That's beautiful. I'm so sorry for the loss of your per baby. Thank you. I just want you to know I fully believe Bay Bailey's ghost cuddling you and your littles and making sure your otherworldly house guests stay in mind. Me too. I fully agree with that.

Thank you. You both have gotten me through some hard times and I feel it is so important to let you know how much I appreciate the time and effort you guys put in this. The work never goes unnoticed. Wow. Thank you. Thank you. You are truly some badass ladies.

It's okay to be human and take the time you need to exist. So please never feel like you always listeners anything. We love you all the same. Now that I've gotten all the happiness out of my way, here's my listener tale. That was like really kind of you. Like you have no idea. We've been like, we've been in a really good vibe groove with like getting ahead of episodes and stuff.

But we were in a spot of really feeling overwhelmed because we were in a funk. Yeah, we were in a real funk and things like that really just got us going. So it's so true. It means a lot and don't think it doesn't and we really, really appreciate you guys saying so. So I've heard that.

You guys really do keep us going. It's not one of those things that you just say. It's true. Like it really is true. So thank you so much. I love you. But at the time of this tale, I was 19 years old and had just gotten out of a fairly rough relationship that left me out of touch with my family and friends for months. I'm sorry. I was very young in naive, thinking jumping headfirst into a fast moving moving relationship would get me out of a toxic home environment for good. Boy, was I wrong there.

I'd move back into my parents' home for the time being, as I was getting things aligned for a place of my own. The apartment I ended up with was a really old house that had been split into three separate living spaces. It desperately needed work, but it was affordable, and close enough that I could walk to work. The walls were flaking, cabinets falling apart, and my front door did not lock.

This is an important detail to remember for later. I had a feeling. I honestly am not even sure how it was legal to have me move into a space like that, but I set up a deal with the landlord that I would work on the place in exchange for my rent being lowered. That's not a bad deal. Not at all. Not a bad deal.

In the town I lived and seemed fairly safe. Again, I was very naive and just excited to have a place of my own. I got comfortable pretty quickly and began working in the kitchen. I stripped old paint from the walls and painted the cabinets a cute pastel green color. I hadn't really even begun to tackle the gross old appliances that I needed to make salvageable and figured the fridge would be a good place to start. This is a good point to mention. The landlord himself had lived in the apartment up to a couple of months before I moved in and I had found much of his things lying around.

I don't like that. I was given the okay to do with any found items as I pleased because the landlord was getting older and had collected quite the horde. While cleaning out the freezer, I noticed tons of teabone steaks and other frozen meats, expensive cuts and all. I checked the dates on all the food, and it felt very wasteful to just throw it away. I do not really eat steaks and other frozen meats, expensive cuts and all. I checked the dates on all the food and it felt very wasteful to just throw it away. I do not really eat steaks myself. I've got the ibs and it sure is and it is a surefire way to spend all night aggressively sweating and praying to God to save my soul.

Amen, brother. Amen. But I figured it was food that potentially could be very helpful to a person or family that needed it. That was very nice of you to think that was so kind. I decided to make a post in the Yokel low Yokel in the Yokel art sale The Yokel art sale page on Facebook God fuck the suck And that God for second platform offering up the food to anyone who might need it I got a message from an older woman later

that evening, who said her son would be very interested in taking some of the steaks and other found foods. I agreed to meet this man at my apartment. I can already hear you guys telling, yelling about how terrible of an idea this was, and I know you were 19. But in my defense, his mother told me he was a man with a wife and children who had unfortunately fallen

on hard times. That's what she wanted you to believe. Again, I'm a sap and easily swooned. So I feel so I found safe safe. So I found safe and not particularly worried about our upcoming interaction. We agreed to meet up later that evening and his mother sent my address and contact info his way. I go about my day getting dressed in some sweatpants and a tank top, ready to meet a friend to go do some grocery shopping of my own. I arrived back home a little while later to meet this

mystery man for the frozen goods. I'm unloading my haul when a small white, when a small white beater car pulls up in front of my house. A middle-aged, smaller man gets out of the car and approaches my door. He introduces himself as the son of the woman I had spoken to earlier and I invite him in. Oh! You used to be a kind, well-liked, and talkative guy. I explain how I came across my wealth and stakes, and he expresses how thankful he is, saying his family will be, also be, overjoyed. I pack up some of the food into bags for him to take, and he asks if I have a restroom he can use. Uh-huh.

And I point him through the living room to the back bathroom and he returns within a couple minutes smiling and continuing his thanks as I hand him the bags. He walks back out his car, loads up and leaves while waving goodbye. A very pleasant experience at the time. The whole interaction lasted maybe five minutes total and I continued about my evening. I'm so nervous that there's like a hidden camera on your fucking bathroom at this point. About a week goes by, completely normal. I managed to hand off the rest of the leftover food

to some co-workers and continued my usual 19 year old routine, AKA drooling over a cube, but not even worth a second glance of my time, a second of my time guy who I scurried to at the drop of a single thoughtless, hey, text message, sigh, we have all been there. I was just about to say we have all been there. At this point, it is Saturday evening, and I'm just getting out of work.

I worked long shifts at the bar and grill on the weekends. I smelled a fryer grease and spilled chicken juices. My God, we do have a lot in here. I had no desire stronger than the one to peel off my icky clothes and hip hop right into bed. I walk home, hop in the shower, and curl up in bed. I'm ashamed to say I was easily won over by the mindless conversation of earlier mentioned Cute Boy and was easily swindled into buying pizza for him and his buddies. What the fuck?

I'll push over, I tell ya, a true push over. Fuck it. I even ordered a pizza for myself and got comfortable making a Parmesan cheese crumb palace in my bed. Oh, watching ghost adventures. That's a great fucking night. That's an evening. And I have a feeling that it's going to get ruined. Yeah. Nothing quite as entertaining as a man wearing mid-2000s buckle, but as old Cross Jeans Ag, antagonizing some probably centuries old demon. Am I right, ladies? Yes, indeed. You are. The time was nearing 2 a.m. at this point, and I was beginning to fall asleep when a very loud bang startled me, and I immediately shot straight out of bed.

The loud noise came from my kitchen. That's right, my friends. The same room where my very very rickety front door that didn't lock sat. I heard rattling and other noises as I turned my phone's flashlight on and slowly began tiptoeing to the kitchen. In my head I'm praying that maybe it's just the wind rattling my door even though it was very calm evening and I hadn't heard anything earlier in the night.

As I entered the kitchen, there was a figure of a man halfway stepping through my front door. And my fighter flight senses immediately kicked in. Hell yeah. I rushed to the door, not really thinking at the time about the chances that Senator may have a weapon. My eyes immediately recognized the face in front of me.

It was the same man from a week ago, now wobbling his way into my apartment in the middle of the fucking night. The fuck? He was very obviously inebriated. I could see him. Yeah, I could smell the alcohol coming off him as he leaned back and forth, reaching his arms towards me.

Ah! I couldn't stop thinking about you. He says, I couldn't stop staring at your breasts. I really couldn't. Ew! I had to use your bathroom to get myself together. He slurs. I'm sorry, but I couldn't stop.

Oh! Kill him. Murder that man. His hands grab onto my arm. And I feel his eyes as if they are unwelcome, as if they are unwelcome, frigid fingers caressing my skin. I am full on panicking at this point. I yell that he needs to leave and he is not welcome in my house. No, no, no, I keep asserting as we struggle for a moment. And he keeps, he continues to try and push his way inside.

The way that I hope you crushed his fucking wrist in your door. Yeah. Thankfully, his intoxication worked in my favor and he lost balance for a split second, trying to wobble more inside of my home. I took advantage of his chance and in shove of this chance and shoved as hard as I could, knocking him just outside

the door enough to slam it in his face. Good for you. Yeah. I didn't even care that the door wouldn't lock him out. He did not know that. I'm panicking as I'm trying to figure out my next move. My front door might not lock, but there is one door in my apartment that will, the basement. I ran into the basement and locked myself in. I collapsed onto the stairs and sobbed violently to myself. I can't even imagine. Oh, God! Time is of the essence.

And even as I cried, I could hear this man shaking on the doors and windows above the apartment above. Oh, fuck. I truly believe he was trying to find another way in to get to me. My hand. He was. My hands were shaking as I dialed 911. I was so panicked. I didn't even know how the operator could hear what I was saying between my sob's and labor breathing.

She assured me that officers were on the way I didn't even know how the operator could hear what I was saying between my sobs and labor breathing. She assured me that officers were on the way and to keep myself locked in the basement until I heard an officer yell for me. I spent what felt like an eternity locked in that damp and completely dark basement. My phone's flashlight was my only source of light, and the operator was my only comfort. In perfect timing, a notification from our earlier mentioned hot shot came across my screen saying thanks for the pizza and we should quote unquote hang later. Not a great time, bud. Not a great time. Also get your own fucking pizza loser. I love our earlier

mentioned hot shot. It got eerily quiet in the space above me and I sat quiet silently waiting for help. They finally came. I heard an officer coming through and he yelled that I was safe to come out. I burst out of the basement tears flowing and an immediate sense of relief hit me. I was indeed safe. I was so worried for you that he was lying or something. I know right. Unfortunately for those who have been in similar situations, you know my humiliation and trauma was not quite over yet. The police asked if I had anyone I wanted to call to be with me as I answer questions and confirm the identity of the man they found passed out in my front yard as they pulled up.

I tried my mom first and that did not go well. She scolded me for waking her. What the fuck? Yeah. And questioned how I was so silly to let someone just waltz into my house like that. Yeah, like you just welcome them in. I'm happy to assure you our relationship has greatly improved since then

and we have come to an understanding regarding that night. I'm very happy to hear that. Me too. But you needed her that night. Yeah, she should have been there. I decided to call my friend that joined me the previous week for grocery shopping and she sat by my side through all of the hard questions.

That's a friend. I know it is the police's job to investigate but what part of a violently shaking and sobbing barely adult girl would ever make you question if this was a consensual experience? Asking if I'd given this man any reason to believe it was okay to come into my house in the middle of the night. No, that's not the question you asked. No.

Did I have any previous relationship with this man? No. Would this man have any reason to want to harm me? No. These questions continued for a bit, and then I was asked to give a written statement. I shook the entire time, and my handwriting was probably a mess to translate, forever got the pleasure of reading it. I was asked if I wanted to stay in the apartment.

Baaak! No. My friend took me to our house, and I did not sleep for hours. I knew this man was gone, quite literally identified him as he sat slumped in the back of the police car. But my brain was so immersed in the panic that he would come back for me. I don't blame you. Of course it was.

I learned a bit more about my case over the next couple of weeks through my victim's advocate and doing some digging of my own. I learned that the man who broke in my house was more than double my age and had a history of domestic violence and DUIs. My God. The police found a bottle of vodka rolling in his floorboards when searching the vehicle parked in front of my house. What a fucking piece of shit. The car even sat there for a day or two,

a very harsh reminder of the terrible thing that happened to me, and the possibilities of what could have happened if I were not awake that evening. Right. I was horrid if I thank goodness for ghost adventures. Right. And pizza.

I was horrid. I was horrified that a woman could knowingly allow a man like that son or not to enter my home. I seriously horrified that a woman could knowingly allow a man like that, son or not, to enter my home. I seriously, she should be ashamed. Absolutely. I was so angrily angry and afraid. It took me months to feel safe sleeping in my own bed.

I didn't attend any of the hearings regarding this man. I really didn't even care to see his face. From what I understood, jail time was on the table as well as probation. I filed a protection order and tried to move on with my life. On the not horrific and traumatic end of my life, Mr. Hotshot ended up being a piss poor excuse of a fling and I stopped talking to him a few weeks later after discovering he was dabbling

and huffing paint on the side. I can really pick him. Let me tell you. I met my current partner shortly after. We were living together within a month because I obviously do not learn. However, we've been together for over four years now. We own four cats and are looking to purchase our first home together next year. I'm so happy. I am too. I removed myself from that local yard sale page. No, not after the grueling events that took place. No, or- But because a lady wanted to argue with me

about how fast I responded to which KitchenAid mix her post. That's Facebook, touch grass. I also moved out of my crappy apartment into a slightly less crappy apartment with my partner. I hope the door locks. I know, the old building was actually demolished shortly after I left.

Yes, it was that bad. Believeable. That is really about all for my listener tale. I felt like it was important one for those of you who are like me, and life lessons have to smack you upside the head for you to learn anything. Oh my God. It's literally an afternoon spirit. Just because someone seems approachable on the internet does not mean you should ever invite

them into your home. Yeah. Always set up a meeting place that is public and has cameras for any online sale trades or freebies. Know your tenant rights as a renter and never settle for unsafe living conditions. Lastly, cute boys are not worth lowering your decency and standards for louder for the people in the back. Yeah. Also, Ash and Alaina, if you ever come to Ohio, I'll be the first one there and I will definitely cry again, but happy tears this time. Keep it weird, but not so weird that Take it away, Ash.

Not so weird that your mom tells you about a Facebook Market sale and you're just excited about stake and you should simply only be excited about taking nothing else But then you take it so far that you fucking break into this girl's apartment in the middle of the night Which he's just trying to get her pizza and ghost adventures on and you try to assault this woman. Go fuck yourself. Go Fuck yourself. All right. Skate. Christ on a cracker my goodness what a fucking creeper bruh wow that was outrageous I hated that I felt unsafe over here I'm very upset that you had to go through that but I'm very glad that you are with your partner now for four years

and you have tons of cats and you're getting a house. Retweet. In your awesome. I can't even say that. What a badass you are. I know, not retweet. Like, repost. Yeah. View.

Say again. That. Yeah, that thing. But guys, thank you so much for these. This was like a good mosh mish of like wholesome, scary, white, weirdosh mosh is mish mosh. Thank you. Mosh Mish Whatever I have this thing. We're whenever somebody says something wrong I have to hear them say I have to correct it. I have to say it right. It's true. Oh, I have to say it I've got to do it. So that's not me. Do we hope you keep listening?

And we hope you keep it weird What's the name? And we hope you keep it weird. But that's so weird as anyone in the bad tails. That's bad tails. You don't like the ones that didn't go so wrong? Yeah. Alright, love you bye. Bye.

Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye.

Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Hey, Prime Members! You can listen to morbid, early, and ad-free on Amazon Music. Download the Amazon Music app today, or you can listen ad-free with Wondery Plus and Apple podcasts. Before you go, tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey. Go tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey.