The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings - Lot 025: My Love // 12 Years Late // I Think I'm The Last Person On Earth // My Neighbor Puts Her Ear To The Wall

Episode Date: December 23, 2023

LOT 025: My Love // 12 Years Late // I Always Liked To Pick Scabs // My Neighbor Puts Her Ear To The WallFour tragic tales of depravity. *WARNING - EXTREME CONTENTMy Neighbor Puts Her Ear To The WallWritten by Lighting NationsFollow r/thoughtindustryhttps://www.reddit.com/r/shortscarystories/comments/wvlqgh/my_neighbor_puts_her_ear_to_the_wall_whenever_im/Narrated by Addison PeacockLauren Shand as Allison Alissa Park as the therapistI Think I'm The Last Person On EarthWritten by Rae Powellhttps://www.reddit.com/r/shortscarystories/comments/w7fdvk/i_think_im_the_last_person_on_earth/Narrated by Trevor ShandScarlett Shand as The Voice In The Woods12 Years LateWritten by Itchy Sanchezhttps://www.reddit.com/r/shortscarystories/comments/ww9xis/twelve_years_late/?share_id=i8-KMjtuGz2T72Gwv6lHw&utm_content=1&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_source=share&utm_term=1Narrated by Trevor ShandMy LoveWritten by Angel Love 8https://www.reddit.com/r/shortscarystories/comments/wv9ii4/my_love/?share_id=Iz1351FAXCfFli0vOgOju&utm_content=1&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_source=share&utm_term=1Narrated by Addison PeacockFeaturing Stephen Knowles as the Antique DealerTheme music by The Newton BrothersAdditional music by:CO.AG ([e-mail])Apocalypse by Vivek Abhishekhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7-e6pQAd_W0 Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Come on in, friend, come on in. Ha, ha, ha. From the look of your face, I would say you are as glad to be here as I am to have you. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you snuck out on all the festive family fun to take a little time for yourself. Yes, sometimes the holidays are a little less than jolly. I've got a handful of items that arrived this morning that are even a little less than that. This, for instance, is a beautiful 100-year-old vertex timepiece. For some reason, I just can't get it to sink up.

But first, a rather intimate consignment, a handwritten love letter in a gilded frame. Get ready for a couple of twisted affairs I call 12 years late and my love. Welcome To the Antiquarium of Sinister happenings And odd goings on I've always loved you Since we were children The day you helped me get down from that tree

Was the day I fell in love with you I know you probably don't remember it It was so long ago But I'm writing you this letter To tell you That my love for you is undying no matter what I will love you forever. I love the way you look when you get up in the morning.

I love the way you act when you think no one's watching. I love the way you always smile at me in the hallway and say good morning. But that's enough of that, as you probably already realized, I adore you. Of course, there are things I don't like about you, too. I don't like the way you look at other girls sometimes. I don't like it when you do little things like flora. with other girls or give them your number. I especially don't like the new cameras you started installing.

It makes it harder to look at you through the window. My love, I know you love me too. It's just you find it hard to express the way you love me because it's hard for you to find me. I know I got very good at hiding. But, my love, don't go looking for that woman anymore. I don't like it when you see other girls. girls and you'll never see her again, so stop looking.

I don't care how much she claims to love you. Just know I will always love you more, so give up looking for her and stay with me instead. Best of wishes, my love. One of those people that are always late. No, I mean like constantly, chronically late. To the point where your friends start to give you a fake earlier time, Just to make sure you're not late.

Well, I was one of those people. I still am, actually, but not through any choice of mine. It started off, weirdly enough, as a simple technological glitch. I would have a time set on my phone, go to my meetup or appointment, and find that my phone was running a few minutes behind. Honestly, in this day and age, I didn't think anyone could have the wrong time on their phone. Then it started to get worse. After a month, I found that I was half an hour late for everything.

And after two months, I was coming into work, a full hour late. I tried everything. I adjusted the time on my phone, changed my time zone. I started actively coming in earlier than what the time was, but absolutely nothing changed. eventually I stopped using the time on my watch I bought a new watch An analog watch and matched it with the time And the giant clock in the city

Time on my watch was matched exactly With that of the giant clock I closed my eyes and counted to 10 My friends had all stopped talking to me at this point I apparently wouldn't return texts for days My tardiness at work eventually Eventually got me fired And so with absolutely nowhere to be

Every now and then I would go back to the giant clock to look at the time, how long I've walked the city as I started walking. And I thought I was always running a bit behind. Tell you what, I'm going to grab a couple of more things out of the back room that I just must share with you. You know the routine. Make yourself at home and feel free to peruse the shop.

I'll catch up with you. I thank you so much for your patience. I sincerely appreciate it. The voices here in the world. Walls do, too. You hear them, don't you? They say the oddest things. Good to keep them company, but best not to listen.

Let's go on and get back to the matter at hand, shall we? My neighbor puts her ear to the wall whenever I'm on Zoom with my therapist. I'm not exaggerating when I say Allison was the worst person to ever walk the earth. Ask anybody in my apartment complex, and they'll tell you the same thing, whether it's the maintenance man she routinely woke up at 2 a.m. to replace flickering light bulbs, or Mrs. Richardson, who she almost head-budded for having a jar of peanut butter in her grocery bag, because apparently we all had to amend our eating habits to accommodate her royal highness's allergies. I, of course, lived right next door to her, which meant the only thing

separating us was a thin sheet of cardboard. A herd of coked-up elephants would have made less racket than Allison, and I'm not saying she couldn't sing, but three months. A few months ago, she belted out a rendition of chandelier by Sia, and nobody's seen the Johnson's cat since. Poor mittens. Unfortunately, just like how I heard everything in her apartment, she heard mine. During the very first Zoom with my therapist, right as I dug into a painful childhood memory about getting gum in my hair, I got revenge on the bully responsible by baking cookies lace with laxative and offering him some. Allison's TV fell silent.

Then she shuffled closer to the wall. A simple coincidence, right? Wrong. Usually it sounded like that woman was tap dancing and setting off fireworks at the same time. Yet the second I turned on my emotional faucet and let the grief pour out, she became a regular fucking church mouse. I wanted to slap the shit out of her, but she had 30 pounds on me. I needed to get creative.

One morning, I stepped into the elevator, right as Allison accosted Mrs. Donnelly for getting her Zimmer frame stuck at the threshold. What a bitch, I said to Allison after the sliding door is finally closed. Right? Earning her trust wasn't hard. One mention of Love Island and she had a sudden attack of verbal diarrhea.

Oh my God, I love that. From then on, during our encounters in the hall, we chatted. Once or twice, she even turned up at my door with a bottle of vodka, and, seeing as I wanted to maintain the charade, we got drunk together. Then one afternoon, as I returned,

turned home, I went into the hall and said, I baked these for you. I handed over a plate of cookies, wrapped in foil. Oh, that's so sweet. Ten minutes later, I booted my laptop and waved a low to my therapist. How have you been? Bad, I said, sighing loudly. Next door, Allison moved closer. And for once, I found myself grateful there was no way to block out the sounds.

Because now I could hear Allison decide a little snack would go well with the entertainment. I could hear her cough and splutter, hear her struggle for air. I could hear her thump the wall trying to warn me, her throat had closed over, that she needed help. And then, after a few minutes, I could hear nothing except silence. Sweet, sweet silence. It started with my sister. She was eight. She was smart, which is why it never made any sense to me,

why she'd go into the woods on her own. Mama taught us to forage for chicken of the woods to differentiate between cow parsnip and water hemlock and never to go past the dead log that crosses the creek. Mama was devastated. She stared out at the tree line for weeks. She went into the woods looking every day.

And every night I'd watch for her to come back. I told the men of the nearest town what happened. and into the woods the missing people became a spectacle to the surrounding towns who sent more when hundreds went missing they sent news crews

which brought in hundreds more each convinced they'd be the one to solve the mystery Aousins went into the woods and never came out video directly to his website it was as though a spell

passed over every person who watched They had come to see the miles of lush, vibrant moss and leaves so green it hurt To feel the ambient wind that blew the drapey curtains of the willows they saw in that video Thousands turned to millions when silent The TV aired nothing but static everything Couldn't understand the effect the video had on everyone I watched on repeat Hoping to feel the overwhelming urge they felt

waited for someone to come. Tell me they didn't understand either. For my sister. For mama. For myself. Until I came to a clearing, huge and circular. Carpeted with soft moss. A tree come to...

Please. Take me too. She smiled a soft. Sad smile. She whispered. And the clearing went with person. Thank you for your patronage. Hope you enjoyed your new relic as much as I've enjoyed passing along its sordid history.

It does come with our usual warning, however. Absolutely no refunds, no exchanges, and we won't be held liable for anything that may or may not occur while the object is in your possession. If you've got an artifact with mysterious properties, Perhaps it's accompanied by a history of bizarre and disturbing circumstances. Maybe you'd be interested in dropping it and its story by the shop to share with other customers. Please reach out to Antiquarium Shop at gmail.com. A member of our team will be in touch.

Till next time, we'll be waiting for you whenever you close your eyes. in the space between sleep and dream. During regular business hours, of course, or by appointment, only for you, our best customer. The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings, Lod Zero25, I Think I'm the Last Person on Earth, written by Ray Powell, narrated by Trevor Shand, featuring Scarlet Shand as the voice in the woods. My neighbor puts her ear to the wall. Written by Lighting Nations. Follow the subreddit thought industry for more. Narrated by Addison Peacock.

Featuring Lauren Shand as Allison. Alyssa Park as the therapist. Twelve years late. Written by Itchy Sanchez. Narrated by Trevor Shand. My Love. Written by Angel Love 8. Narrated by Addison Peacock.

Featuring Stephen Knowles as the antique dealer. Engineering production and sound design by Trevor Shand. Theme music by the Newton Brothers. Additional music by Coag and Vivek Abyshech. The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings is created and curated by Trevor and Lauren Shand. Follow us on Instagram and Twitter at Antiquarium Pod. Call the Antiquarium at 646-481-7197.