The Lets Read Podcast - 106: Episode 094 | Catfish & Blind Date Stories | 29 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: August 10, 2021

Welcome to the ninety-fourth episode of The Lets Read Podcast! This podcast includes narrations of true creepy encounters submitted by normal folks just like yourself. Today you'll experience horrifying stories about Catfish, Psychotic Blind Dates, & Crazy Parties... HAVE A STORY TO SUBMIT?► www.Reddit.com/r/LetsReadOfficial FOLLOW ME ON - ► Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsread.official/ ► Twitter - https://twitter.com/LetsReadCreepy ►YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/c/letsreadofficial ♫ Background Music & Audio Remastering: Simon de Beer https://www.instagram.com/simon_db98/ PATREON for EARLY ACCESS!►http://patreon.com/LetsRead

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you know, one of those kissed at midnight deals that has butterflies doing loop-de-loops in your stomach. He was tall, dark, handsome, every girl's dream. We swapped numbers, went on a few amazing dates, and after about a month of us hanging out and sleeping together, he asked me to be his girlfriend. Of course I said yes, how could I not? He was everything I ever wanted. But time has a funny way of proving you wrong doesn't it? And if crystal balls existed and I had the capacity to peer into the murky fogs of one to see my future, I'd have never let him kiss me that night as the clocks ticked over to the new year. I'd have run a mile and never looked back.

A few months into our relationship, his true nature came to the forefront. He was abusive, extremely abusive. It was all just verbal at first, telling me I was dumb when I got something wrong or said something incorrect. Then he got possessive, getting angry when I met up with or talked to my guy friends. He'd hide my phone, my car keys, my shoes, anything he could to control my behavior or movement. Then it was stuff like my diet. He was obsessed with making me lose weight so like I'd buy myself some sweet treats to enjoy after a long day of work only to find them gone when I got home. Not just throw them in the trash either, he'd ruin them utterly. I bought a carrot cake from

a local organic bakery and instead of just throw it out, he'd pour bleach or some kind of caustic cleaning fluid all over it in the sink, like it was a pure power play. He didn't even try to be sneaky about it. Once he drove me to a gym near our apartment, told me to get out and not to come back until sundown. He expected me to work out for hours on end. I remember just sitting outside the place and crying until one of the trainers there took pity on me and drove me home. Big mistake. He beat the life out of me that night.

He didn't just slap me around, I mean, he really beat me senseless. It started as soon as I walked through the door. He'd saw me getting out of a random guy's car and just lost it. He beat me in the TV room, followed me into the kitchen and slapped me there. Then I tried to hide in the bedroom. He kicked the door in and beat me unconscious. At least that's what I'm assuming happened. I woke up the next morning with blood on my pillow, still in that gym gear he'd made me buy, and I was too scared to go to the cops. I know they can be a great help these days and the protocol for dealing with domestic abuse has improved dramatically, but I was just terrified. Eventually, things came to a head. After a particularly vicious

argument over a dog, I said it wasn't a good idea and he blew his top. He put a gun to my temple and pulled the trigger. I think the worst part of the whole cycle was the apologies. I know that seems like a weird thing to say after telling you who almost shot me but I'm serious. He was damaged, extremely damaged and the crying and apologies after a fight always made me feel a deep sympathy for him. But enough was enough. I went out and bought him a bottle of liquor then poured him drink after drink until he passed out comatose. He was full on growl snoring as I packed a bag, got in my car and drove to my parents. There was a confrontation with my dad at one point but the old man scared him off.

I don't want to say why as there is still an ongoing court case in the works involving brandishing a weapon but yeah, it was over. About a month went by and I got myself a few dating apps to see if I could find someone new. It was nerve wracking, it really was, but I found myself a few dating apps to see if I could find someone new. It was nerve-wracking, it really was, but I found myself a couple of matches that really took my mind off the whole thing. It was the start of a long and arduous healing process, but at least I'd taken the step in the right direction. Both guys I'd match with were like my ideal partners. They seemed caring

and kind, thoughtful and intelligent. One was awesome but the other I was truly smitten with. He said something right, did everything right. He had this kind of fatherly vibe about him that made me think that maybe, just maybe one day, he'd be the right choice to start a family with. When it came time to meet for our first date I was so excited. For the first time in months, I put on a nice dress, did my makeup perfectly, got my hair done, my nails done, the works. Somehow the guy knew I was into vegan food, or rather that I wanted to turn vegan. My ex had categorically denied me that option, so the fact that this guy basically encouraged

it was like a breath of fresh air. I took an uber to the place, waited outside and felt the butterflies doing backflips in my tummy again, just like they had done a long time before. That's when I saw him, walking down the sidewalk. People were giving him weird looks, darting out of his way and into stores or cafes. It wasn't the guy I'd met online, it was my ex, and he had a knife. I kicked off my expensive new heels and ran, hearing him scream after me as he chased me through the streets. I ran into a bar and begged the staff and security to help me. The big doorman was confused at first but when he saw my ex tearing towards them with that knife in his hand, he shut and locked the door and the patrons inside. The cops came, he was arrested, and I got so many drinks bought for me that night.

But seeing the whole torrid affair unravel before my eyes was just a nightmare. There was never any perfect fatherly guy I dream about. He was a complete fabrication of my ex. He knew me well enough to set up a fake profile that would attract my attention. I mean he tailored it down to a T. He might have set up a few fake profiles and I'm pretty sure the other guy was him too because after that night I didn't get any more messages from him. But all he had to do was put them out there and wait for me to fall for it. Like the idiot I am. I think we can all agree that lockdown has been incredibly boring. I, a 24-year-old male, have been learning Italian. My mom is so proud since her people are Napolitano.

Learning how to cook, working out a whole lot more, and like many of you, dipping a toe into the local dating pool. My weapon of choice has been that relatively new dating app, Hinge. It's by far the best I've used since it seems to have an equal focus on look and personality. That dumb questions prompt might seem that way but they really give you an insight into a person's character. But anyway, I was having fun with it, just chatting with girls and playing it cool until I matched with a girl who I won't name because I'm kind of worried she might read this. I know for a fact she's a red who I won't name because I'm kind of worried she might read this. I know for a fact she's a redditor so forgive me if I just call her the girl.

So the girl had some really cute pictures in her profile as well as some really nice answers to the prompts. From what I could tell she was into fitness, she was creative, a good sketch artist from her photos and was very very pretty. So obviously I sent her a message complimenting her art and hoping that would draw her attention away from the thirstier guys who lack tack and sophistication. No offense thirsty dudes but you need to work on that. We get chatting for a while and we have a lot in common. I was super excited about the prospect of meeting her and obviously she felt the same about me so the very next day when she asked me to go for a walk around the local park with her, I jumped at the chance.

I was kind of nervous waiting to meet her, doing that thing like rubbernecking, looking all around and hoping to see the gorgeous girl from the photos walking towards me. As I'm waiting, another girl walks up to where I'm sat near this water fountain, wearing shades and a baseball cap and starts looking at me. I kind of look at her and give a look like, why are you staring at me, while she just smiles. Hi Campbell, she says and only then did the penny drop. The girl's pictures made her look clear-skinned, athletic, slender and petite but this girl who was obviously the one I've been talking to was the exact opposite. I don't want to be cruel, I won't say mean things about her but she was not who she had made herself out to be. I had been thoroughly catfished. Like I said I'm not a complete jerk. I did promise this girl a date and a date I did give her. She did make it clear at one point that she had put on a little

weight during quarantine but she made no excuse for the heavy acne she had. I mean I sympathize with skin problems because I had a little eczema myself but maybe just be honest about it you know I'd have swiped anyway. But either way we find ourselves a little spot among some trees and get chatting. It's only really then that I got annoyed at how she talked me up. She claimed to love sci-fi movies and stuff but the more we talked the more it was clear that she didn't know anything about the stuff that we talked about. She kept getting her Star Wars and Star Trek references mixed up which was my first major clue and it only got worse from there. After an hour or so of this with me trying to stay as

polite as physically possible we agreed to walk back home, parting ways at a neutral point. We hugged, I said I'd see her again which I felt guilty for lying but hey, I was thoroughly annoyed at that point and then we parted ways. Okay, so you know people talk about getting like a gut feeling of being watched or followed? No idea what they're talking about because as I walked home, fairly disappointed from what was a washout date, I got absolutely zero inclination that anything unusual was happening. I didn't feel eyes on me, I didn't get any like sick sense or gut feeling, I just walked home, laid on the couch and texted a buddy of mine telling him about the little dating disaster I just walked home, laid on the couch and texted a buddy of mine telling him

about the little dating disaster I just suffered through. He laughed, helped me see the funny side, told me how I should be flattered and that it meant I'd obviously hook up with someone else soon since I was a total ogre. The girl texts me asking if I wanted to meet again the next day but I just sort of ignored the message. I know that's kind of low of me but anyway. The next day I'm just chilling playing Xbox when my phone buzzes with a message. Want to meet up in the park again? It was the girl.

I told her some nonsense about being tired and too busy with work or whatever and that I'd drop her a message as soon as I was next free. She replies with the following, it's okay if you're tired, I can meet you at your place and we can chill in your apartment. I had absolutely zero memory of telling her where I lived. I didn't hint at it, I didn't clue her into any kind of location whatsoever. So how did she know where I lived? I don't remember telling you where my apartment building is, I reply. Don't worry about that, and she gives me a winky face. I'm smart, remember? I felt sick. There was only one solid explanation for why she knew where I lived. She had somehow followed me home without me spotting her, which I'm sure I don't have to tell you why that was some serious line crossing, a huge breach of trust for me. I left her on read and immediately called my ex to get her advice on it.

She didn't pick up right away, but she called me back later in the afternoon as was quick to advise me to just block her, ghost her and never look back. In her words, if she was this quick to get clingy and stalkerish then there was only worse to come. So cut to like two weeks ago. It's late, I'm hungry and I've ordered takeout delivery from the local taco place. I get a message from an unknown number like, outside. That's all it said. So obviously I go down to the front door of my apartment building, expecting to see a delivery driver with my order.

We have a big solid door, no little windows, no peepholes, nothing like that. So I'm just all chill, excited to stuff my face with al pastor. The door swings open, and it's the girl, and she looks livid. How dare you? You think you can just ghost me? You lied to me! Blah blah blah. I immediately freak out and just slam the door in her face. I run up to my apartment and lock the door behind me, but she wouldn't leave. Like it got to the point where one of

my neighbors got into a confrontation with her because of the whole social distancing thing. In the end, they did me a huge favor and they called the cops. The girl gets a fine, advised to move along, which thankfully she does, but I'm so nervous she'll come back. Like really, really nervous to the point of terrified because if she's that unstable, she's likely to do me harm at one point, right? If you guys have any advice or experience in anything like this, please let me know. I'd be super appreciative of anything you can offer in terms of any sort of direction. This is the story of the worst thing that ever happened to me. It's the story of how a dream came true turned into a nightmare of how some of the sweetest moments of my life turned into the darkest, most humiliating experiences of my life so far. I'm only young,

19, and I know I have a lot of life to live ahead of me, but nothing. I don't think anything will be quite as destructive to my psyche as what happened one summer when I was 16 years old. I used to play all-girl lacrosse in school. I noticed that in the US it's like mostly a male sport, which is kind of crazy because over here in the UK, at the school I went to, it was a girl's sport. And like with the boys in the States, lacrosse can get really, really bloody intense. Girls get their teeth knocked out with sticks sometimes, their knees smashed smashed their shins bruised up and down with horrible yellow purple bruises it really does get incredibly brutal sometimes

but i loved it it was like the highlight of my entire week because i was good at it too i made it on to the girls first 11 toward the north of the uk playing different schools we entered a tournament when i was 16 got all the way of the UK playing different schools. We entered a tournament when I was 16, got all the way to the regional finals, and we actually won too. But it wasn't the perfect little story you might expect, because something happened that ruined my entire school life. Scores are neck and neck in the final minutes. Adrenaline is surging. I'm so exhausted I feel like my lungs are about to explode and my thighs are killing me but I keep going. I keep pushing. I remember stopping for a moment feeling like I was about to throw up from the exertion and I saw my big brother at pitch side.

My ears were actually ringing. I felt like death warmed up but the look in his eyes, like he was angry and proud and loving and supportive all at once, I couldn't hear him really. There were so many people shouting but I kind of just knew, don't give up Rosie, don't ever, ever, ever give up. And then all of a sudden, I could run again. I felt like I could run and run and never stop. The next thing I know, this pass came in from left field,

bounces, I net it, burst forward and shoot. Only as I do, a defender kind of trips over my legs. I fall, she falls, but the ball hits home. The goalie had no bloody chance, it was like a freaking rocket. And that was that. We'd won. I'd won it for us. The entire game, the entire tour. I was the hero. The actual bloody hero. There was like 20 seconds of play left, but it was no good. There was no coming back for the other team. And when the final whistle went, it was like an explosion of happiness. Our coach ran on, hugged me, tears in his eyes, and that made me cry too. But the whole time this was going on, the girl that had fallen hadn't gotten up. Their coach was fuming that we just carried the last part of the game on without seeing to her.

She was rolling around in the dirt and you could tell she was in loads of pain. Turns out she'd broken something. Actually a pretty bad break too, like she'd have a double jointed thumb for the rest of her life. But I didn't care. Sorry, I know that sounds horrible, but I couldn't. Lacrosse gets rough and that's just how it is. So anyway, about a week later I get this Facebook friend request. It's from this absolutely drop dead gorgeous guy, I mean he was like a heart throb level gorgeous and he was from a school on the other side of the city. I accepted the request, half out of curiosity, half so I could just fawn

over the pictures of him on there. But then he drops me this message like, I saw you win that lacrosse game. I was there to watch my cousin play and I'd love to take you out sometime. You were absolutely amazing. Blah, blah, blah. I swear I blushed so hard I thought my face was about to burst. I tried to be cool about it. Told him we should chat for a little bit first before we decided on anything. And we did. And it was lovely. He was such a nice guy. Not like a nice guy, but proper, actual, genuine. Point Point being we chatted and ended up swapping some kind of raunchy photos. Now I'm not stupid or at least not too stupid because I sent them and waited until I got the scene notification then deleted them so he could like see them but not keep them.

Then he just disappears. The Facebook account blocks me the number on whatsapp blocks me he ghosted hard i felt stupid putting so much faith in this boy who just turned around and straight up blocked me like i meant nothing to him he had some really nice chats too about life about school he really seemed to just get me but it it was a lie, because the next week in school, everyone was laughing. All the girls, anyway. While loads of lads were like, alright Rosie, how's it going? Up to much this weekend? I didn't get it at all, all this attention for some reason. Then I get told only my close mate had it in her to tell me what the deal was.

Someone had sent all these underwear shots I'd taken and sent by Facebook boy to like everyone in our school, even my mates. They had come from some boy's account, one that had been deleted not long after. He hadn't blocked me, he straight up deleted them. It was horrible. I don't want to go into detail about what happened next, but it ended up with my parents getting called into school and within the space of about a fortnight, I'd go from the highest I'd ever been in my life to the absolute lowest. I ended up leaving that school to do my GCSE exam somewhere else, but I just couldn't focus. I failed them miserably, mainly because of the stress. The girl who broke her hand or whatever ended up sending me a message like, ha ha ha ha, but nothing else.

And it was only then I got the idea that it might have been her that orchestrated the whole thing. I ended up going on to a sixth form college that helped people re-sit their GCSEs. Weird setup, I know, but it gave me the space to be able to think properly and get over what had happened involving the photos. I passed them in the end and I got my life back on track but the whole thing was just a knockout blow to that stage of my life. I was like a full year behind everyone else and that was super humiliating for a girl like me who had been a star pupil at one point. I feel a bit better having just ridden this whole thing out. I know it was dead long and I'm sorry, but if you take

away anything from this, and it helps you too, then I suppose it's been worth the effort. My name is Sergei and I'm an independent internet researcher up in the great white Canadian north. It's normally a pretty boring job. I study online trends for retail companies so they can tailor their algorithms and such. Not the most exciting job in the world, but it pays pretty well. But for the past year or so, I've been putting a lot of professional and spare time into a fairly recent internet phenomenon known colloquially as catfishing. For those who aren't aware, catfishing is a deceptive activity where a person creates a sock puppet presence or fake identity on a social networking service and is often employed for romance scams on dating

websites. The practice may be used for financial gain, to compromise a victim in some way, or simply as forms of trolling. The client I've been in the employ of for the past years, one of the larger dating apps that has risen in prominence, in the hopes that my research will prevent the phenomenon from occurring, since fear of becoming a victim has caused their traffic to stagnate over recent years, and understandably so. I've been working on a comprehensive guide to catfishing and how to avoid it, but for now, I'll tell you some stories I've gleaned from interviews with people who have come forward as a result of advertisements I've put up online. These are some of the scariest catfishing stories I've compiled. I interviewed a young woman from the United States who says that she met what seemed like the perfect guy online. They dated for over a year and spent months talking online before they met in

person. When they did, she was introduced to his parents, slept in his apartment, met his circle of friends, the works. Then suddenly, one day, he randomly disappeared. The girl, who I'll not name, paid hundreds of dollars to an online private investigator service and after months of research, they discovered something horrifying. The man had given her a false name and had done so to many, many other girls online. But the reason that he had disappeared was that he had been sent to prison on manslaughter charges. One of the other girls that he had been involved with had died as a result of some sort of kinky game that they had been playing and he was subsequently tried and convicted of the crime in a federal court. I remember her crying when she said it could have been her.

That they had discussed that kind of activity and were only a matter of months from trying it. I spoke to another girl over Skype about her experiences with her catfish. One might assume that most catfish victims are men who are being romantically scammed out of their finances, but it's actually quite untrue. Women and girls seem to be the most susceptible but this is a so far unsubstantiated conclusion that requires much more evidence and many more examples for me to prove it conclusively. Anyway, the girl I spoke to was in her early 20s, was very petite and had done some modeling work with the hopes of making it an actual career. When a model who called herself Jasmine reached out to her with some advice regarding the industry, she thought it might have been her big break. Jasmine appeared

to be experienced and well-connected and proved to be a constant source of inspiration and motivation for her. They ended up becoming good friends, and when Jasmine clued her into a lingerie shoot that was apparently working for a company based out of Milan, Italy, the girl was incredibly thankful and grateful for such an opportunity. However, when it came to the day of the photo shoot, Jasmine didn't show up. The girl I interviewed was very disappointed but was assured by her so-called friend that a relative had passed away suddenly. She was alone but the photographer was friendly and welcoming and they continued with the shoot as planned. She was paid rather handsomely and actually returned to the studio twice after to do some similar photo shoots. But the last time she

did, her attire and theme of the photo shoot didn't sit right with her. She told me it was verging on raunchy, which, if you catch my drift, was unusual since a lot of the clothes were what she described as innocent looking. This did raise some suspicion, but again, she was paid generously. Around 18 months afterward, the girl read of a photographer who had been convicted of producing and sharing lewd images of children online, that he had used the persona of a fictional girl to lure women into photoshoots and sold the photographs under the pretext that they were of underage girls. Whilst not strictly illegal, it did take long for the photographer to venture into actual

illegality and it was over this that he was convicted of a crime. She felt sick that her image had been used in such a way, sold to degenerates who in turn must have done some very unsavory things with them. But it's this last catfish story that I'll pass on to you that I think disturbs me the most. I ended up talking to a girl via a throwaway Skype account that I initially thought was actually trying to catfish me, since she refused to provide any personal details about herself or any evidence that she was genuine. It'd be pretty dumb of me to get catfished while investigating the subject itself, right? But as I was saying,

I met a girl who claimed to be an actual catfish, or rather that she had once partaken in the activity when she was much younger and internet chat rooms were still relatively new. She claimed to have met a young European man who was a few years older than her and they had begun a kind of online relationship. They swapped pictures and things escalated from there until they eventually began a series of phone conversations from across the Atlantic. She had given a false name and said she suspected he had done the same since back then internet safety was something people worried about. As the relationship escalated, the European boy talked about flying over to the United States to meet her.

There was only one problem. The girl had lied about her age. She was 15 at the time and had actually sent him a picture of a girl that was not her. In order to try to find a way out, she somehow convinced the boy that she had been in a car crash, had lost both her legs as a result, and was struggling with her memory. In short, she basically told him she had no memory of him or of their conversations and pretended that new girl, for want of a better term, had no interest in meeting a total stranger from Europe. The boy then went quiet. Now, I don't know how true this is as the only piece of

evidence she was able to provide was a newspaper article from a Belgium newspaper detailing about the man actually taking his life over that because of a breakup with an online girlfriend. She swore to me that it was the same young man, insisting it was his name, his pictures, the works. But as I said, I can't substantiate her claims due to her lack of willingness to identify herself. But if it is true, then that is a terrifyingly bleak result of such an affair. If not, then I wonder what kind of psychopath would fabricate such a detailed, disturbing story. Still, I hope these stories have given you some kind of insight into the techniques and protocols of those who wish to use the internet to deceive you. Practice internet safety, take everything with a pinch of salt, nothing like that, because I did something terrible once, truly terrible, or maybe it wasn't so bad in the grand scheme of things, but when you consider the ending, it was bad, really bad, and I caused it all.

When I was 19, I was broke, really broke, and I had expensive tastes. I was into drugs, expensive ones, powders and pills. No job to speak of. I mean, I made a little cash here and there doing favors for dealers, but that went straight into buying more. Eventually, I had a plan. I was going to catfish someone. So I made a fake dating profile, backed it up with social media, the works. I picked a girl that wasn't like too hot, but was cute enough to be believable.

I found some girl who posted on that reddit group, Argon Mild. This little thing with glasses and bangs. I might have fallen for it if I didn't know I was faking the whole thing. I then took to the dating apps, got myself a bunch of matches, and all hit them up with the same story. I lived a little away from them. I wanted to see them, but I just didn't have the money, explaining that I was broke. Which, as we know, was pretty much the truth. I asked them for enough money to buy a bus ticket or like a train ticket or whatever. Good for them. Most of them, they saw through it like straight away.

Most guys just told me to buzz off, called me out on being a scammer or whatever. But one didn't. One actually was dumb enough to believe the whole thing. He was this dumb incel type from California. He sent $100 via Venmo to buy a ticket. But I didn't. I lied and told him he must have sent it to the wrong account. I made a new one, apologized, and promised it would work this time, and it did. He sent me another $100, but he said he wasn't a big earner and he couldn't really afford to send much more. Then came the really messed up part. I had a kind of

breakdown and this guy was the only person I could really talk to about being an addict. I confessed everything. Not everything but enough to tell him I was addicted to stuff and that I'd spent all of that money. So he sent me more. And I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't string this poor guy along for nothing so I broke off the whole thing, just made a clean break, deleted all the social media and just tried to get clean. It was horrible, truly one of the worst experiences of my life but it only got worse. In the weeks that followed I heard about something terrible that happened out in California. Again I don't want to be too specific but it it was a very, very violent thing in which a lot of people died. And when I came to find out who it was that did it, I saw this guy's picture in the news.

It was an old picture of him, but it was definitely him. Arrested for a mass murder charge or something. He blamed women. That's how I know it was my fault. And I'm really sorry. I'm just so, so sorry. I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt. I was just stupid and short-sighted and selfish. And I'm just so sorry. And I don't know if I can live with myself anymore. So a few years back, I found a shady corner of Reddit where people post adverts for partners to talk about illicit stuff with. For those that don't know, you know, some of those that don't, well, I imagine you're going to skip reading my post to find it.

For those that do remain, well, this is my catfish story. I met with this awesome girl, swap a few messages with her, then get talking about the sweet stuff, if you know what I mean. It was awesome. I had such a good time and eventually it came to swapping pictures. She sent me pictures of some absolutely stunning model type girl who, to be fair, I should have been suspicious as things start to get a little heavier and we start swapping pics outside of our skivvies if you know what I mean. This is the point I kind of lost my mind. I didn't realize how easy it is to get a hold of pictures of these girls online. Yeah, I know how dumb that sounds, but hear me out. These pictures were obviously taken at home, mirror selfies, stuff like that.

For some reason, that convinced me she was real. So when she turns it around and asks me for ones of myself, I took some pictures and sent them to her without a second thought. We carry on swapping pictures and dirty texts for a while and I eventually come clean about who I was. Like my real name, my job, not all the info but a lot. She told me a fair bit about her too which only made me like her more because she said that she was like a teacher and stuff. I liked the idea that she worked with kids, like it was a motherly thing that made my affection for her grow. But like a lot of stuff like that, she eventually started getting slower

and slower with her replies, until they stopped dead one day. I was upset. I was super into this girl, but I get why she ghosted. A lot of girls on those subreddits do after a while whether it's from shame or just boredom one day they'll just disappear so i kind of move on from her just get past the feeling of loss i know that sounds dumb and get on with my life all until i get an email one day saying something along the lines of we have compromising photographs of you wire 500 to the account below within 24 hours or the photographs will be sent to your family, place of work, and to local authorities. Attached to the email were copies of the pictures I'd sent to the girl. Specifically, the ones with out any clothes on.

I'd been really, really dumb. I'd not thought about the fact that you could basically ID me from the stuff in the background. I don't want to say what the pictures were exactly or how you identify me from them, but they were pretty compromising. I had no choice. I had given the girl that I'd met, if it was even a girl at all, enough information to actually be able to send copies of these NSFW pictures to my employer, etc. So I paid it. I paid the money and as you can imagine, that wasn't the end of it. I sent thousands of dollars to those scammers before I finally had the balls to say enough is enough. I emailed back telling them no, that they could send whatever they wanted to whoever they wanted and that I'd just deny it or say that someone had hacked my

phone. I deleted that account, started a new one and got rid of my phone and got a new one. All kinds of things to try and put enough distance between me and the pictures I'd taken. And you know what? They didn't send anything to anyone. I expected my boss to call me telling I was fired like any day after that email exchange, but nothing came. I even asked my brother if he had any weird emails come through, and he was fired like any day after that email exchange but nothing came. I even asked my brother if he had any weird emails come through and he was just like, what? No, why? I was safe and they were bluffing.

But please, learn from this dumb little story and don't ever, ever send stuff like that or anything of the such to people online. Not unless you want to send out thousands and hush money to some complete and utter psychos. A few months ago I was due to move in with my boyfriend of four years. I know many couples move in together far earlier than that, but we were very focused on our careers and had taken each stage in our relationship super slow so we were certain we were doing the right thing. Cue the lockdown. It was a case of either pull the trigger on the move in thing and get it done as quickly as efficiently as possible, or put it off again for the foreseeable

future. I wasn't prepared to do that. I wasn't prepared to spend an entirety of any lockdown stuck in my parents' house. But when we walked about, I discovered something horrendous. He had been seeing a girl on the side, some hippie chick that he had met through his job and told me he didn't want to be together anymore. He told me I was neurotic, career focused but to the point of being neglectful and cold hearted. I was broken from it but above all I was angry. I basically told him like screw you I'm getting all the dating apps I'm going to find someone better than you. And I did. At least I thought I did. That's how I met this guy Alex. He lived around the corner

from me. I'm talking less than five minutes walking distance, and the more we talked, the more I was amazed that we hadn't bumped into each other before. We'd gone to sister schools, lived on the same street at one point, and had a plethora of similar interests. But when it came to meat, I got a little nervous and here's why. I know this is bad of me, but all of my pictures are with filters or taken from a distance. They do make me look very pretty and I suppose I am in a sense, but there's something I need to explain. I have really bad acne. I always have since I was a teenager. I have a lot of acne scars up and down

my cheeks and forehead and I get those horrible acne spots that are very very painful to deal with properly so basically no choice to leave them be or go through inordinate amounts of pain every morning. I also have a condition known as PCOS or polycystic ovary syndrome. PCOS symptoms can manifest in different ways. The first is the namesake follicles that can surround your ovaries can make getting pregnant very difficult. Just one of the reasons I thought I'd be alone forever when I was a kid. Another is the excess production of male hormones such as testosterone. This means I get thick black hairs coming out of my chin, sometimes even growing from my nose too. Not like inside my nose, like on my nose.

This caused me to be depressed for many, many years. I hated the way I looked, and I'm not always the best at remembering to shave or checking myself out in the mirror for that matter. Anyway, I wore sunglasses and let my hair loose for mine and Alex's first meeting. He was really nice and we took a walk around a local park so as to comply with the daily exercise edicts put out by the British government. We talked about stuff that we cared about, discussed our careers and although I was still really hung up on my ex, I did really like him. We were only supposed to walk a loop around the park for like an hour but we walked for much longer than that and ended up

sitting on the grass for a while and talking. That's when I decided to bite the bullet so to speak, take off my sunglasses. They were the overly large kind that covered up more than just the eyes and tie my hair back so he could really see my face. That's when his face dropped. It felt horrendous seeing this happy smiling face and warm gaze turn cold as he looked me over, seeing all the things that I hadn't let him during our little walk. I didn't even need to ask why as he was looking at me like that and I just blurted out, I'm worried you think I've catfished you. I said, hearing myself just drained of confidence. I half expected him to at least be a gentleman about it. Nothing about his behavior over the previous few hours made me expect

anything else, but his answer made me feel like bursting into tears. You did catfish me. You don't look like your pictures at all. He said, not even bothering to look me in the eyes when he said it. We sat there in silence for a minute or so as I fought to keep back the tears. It was only like a week before I'd suffered through some of the worst heartbreak I'd ever faced and now it was just compounding on it. I think I should just go, I said, moving to get up to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist hard, keeping me from getting up. You know, you shouldn't do this to people. It's very, very rude, he said, tightening his grip on my wrist as he seemed to get angrier and angrier. I'm sorry, is all I could say, feeling myself beginning to tremble.

I'm stoic usually. I'm good at controlling my emotions, but I was honestly on the verge of cracking up in that moment. I looked around, hoping I'd see someone that could help me if he started to get really, really angry, but to my absolute horror, there was no one. The sun was beginning to dip in the sky and the park had almost completely emptied of people, worried they'd be fine for being outdoors without a good reason. It was that exact moment that I realized that I was almost completely at the mercy of this angry, obviously unstable guy. The way his mood just swung like that, it was awful.

He was not the person I thought he was and that terrified me. Girls like you are the reason dating apps are complete garbage. He growled through his gritted teeth. Girls like you are why I hate doing this kind of thing. Getting my hopes up only to be disappointed. I apologized over and over again. I told him I didn't mean to make him angry and that I just tried to pick the best photos of myself, but he interrupted angrily, telling me to shut up. I should teach you a lesson, he spat. Let's take some actual photos of you, shall we? Let's take some pictures so we can show guys what you really look like.

I couldn't believe it, but he actually tried to reach for my pocket where I was keeping my phone. I just reacted. I don't know if it was the fear or the anger at being treated like this by someone I barely knew, but I hit him, more like I elbowed him right in the face and as I did, I heard something crunch. He fell back, letting go of me and bringing both hands to his face in agony. I don't know what I broke and what I'd cracked, but I didn't stop to think about it. I stood up and ran away from him. He got up to chase and in a horrible moment I realized he was gaining on me but the next time I looked back he was bent doubled over handcuffed below his nose as blood poured out of it. He'd stopped chasing me and it

was only then that I burst into tears as I ran. I was an athlete in secondary school and it all just came back to me as I ran and ran and ran and didn't look back. I don't care if my pictures weren't completely representative of me. No one deserves to be talked to or treated like that. Ever. So as you know girls, dating can be super fun, but super risky. I'm sure you all have your guards up when meeting guys for the first time, especially when it comes to dating apps. And after one chance encounter with a guy I met on Tinder, I keep a double guard up these days, and here's why. I happened to cross the profile of a guy claiming to be a male model. The pictures were super hot. The guy looked like he was a viking or something.

Tall, blonde hair, blue eyed, a real life Disney prince. Not just that but he was incredibly charming. Had all the right answers to all of my questions and by the end of our first day chatting I was so ready to meet him. So we arranged a little meet, a little cute thing at a local eatery, a Korean BBQ place that I've been dying to go to. Of course he'd promised to pay for everything and I'm not a freeloader but let's just say that I like the gentlemanly touch. He was late. Now I know that might seem irritating but the anticipation of waiting for the guy was intoxicating. I didn't quite feel worthy of him and being made to wait only compounded the feeling. By the time five minutes after our proposed meeting time had passed I had serious butterflies in my stomach. I never anticipated

what would come next, not in my wildest dreams, and when it did I felt sick to my stomach. I never anticipated what would come next, not in my wildest dreams, and when it did, I felt sick to my stomach. I look up from my phone to see someone recording me on their own device. This guy was no viking. He was short, overweight, unshaven, and he looked like he hadn't bathed in weeks. I asked him what he thought he was doing filming me like that and his response pretty much knocked the wind out of me. This wasn't exactly what was said but just what I can recall from memory. You see? You see how unfair this is? You can pick up any guy you want, but I have to lie just to get you to meet me. That's disgusting. You should have been giving a guy like me a chance.

You honestly think you deserve a male model? You're not even that hot. He sang this so loud that the entire restaurant is looking around at us, and I can feel all eyes staring at me, at us. It reminded me of the middle school play I had to perform, and the same one that had me running off the stage and puking in the girls' bathroom because I just couldn't handle the pressure, the gross amounts of attention. It was kind of weird what happened next. I mean, maybe I'd just grown up a whole lot. Maybe it was the fight-or-flight instinct that had me settling squarely on fight, but the words came out of me before I could even really consider them. I told him what he was doing was not okay, that lying was not the way to get a woman, and that he had a lot of maturing and growing to do before he could be in any decent place to pursue getting a girlfriend.

I told him what he did was unfair, not what I was doing, that he should be ashamed of himself and I totally turned it around. I was actually shaking with adrenaline, beaming with pride as someone in the back of the restaurant shouted something like, you tell him girl. I gathered up my purse, got up from my seat and walked past the guy without giving him a second look. Now maybe this isn't as scary as a story to you guys as the obsessive stalker or the murderous incel but for a few moments it was the most terrifying experience of my life. Hopefully some of you dudes out there will learn a thing or two because this is less of a story than a straight up warning.

I met this awesome girl on Tinder. We vibed for a few days then arranged to meet up the following week. I wanted to impress her so we arranged a meet at a super fancy restaurant. She also hinted that she liked jewelry, so me, being the generous soul that I am, bought her a fancy gold wrist tie thing. I forget the name of them, but it was expensive. So yeah, we arranged the date, and on the night of, I end up waiting outside this super fancy place in a shirt and tie, looking like Dwight from The Office or something. I just felt dumb. Anyway, I get a text from her saying she was going to be late and that she'd lost her bank card, so could I like

cover her half of the bill? No worries, I think. So I walk to a nearby ATM to take out a little extra cash, as well as a generous tip for whatever server ended up serving us. Gotta show off that generous side, right? I walk back to the place, text her, and she says she's so sorry, but she's going to be even later than she first thought. Again, I'm like, no worries. She was way hot enough to wait for. She had this amazing smile, cute brown eyes, and from the gym selfies she put on her profile, you see it from the front if you know what I mean.

Anyway, things start getting a little annoying when she texts me and she says she can't find the restaurant and can I meet her further down the street so we can walk there together. Of course I'm going to say yes, no way I'm going to just say no and walk back home. So I do as I'm asked and walk further down the street to a quieter part of the neighborhood in order to keep an eye out for her. A few minutes go by and there's still no sign of her. I'm starting to worry that she won't show and I start getting that sinking feeling where I'm scared that I'm going to get stood up. My eyes light up when I see her name on my phone, saying she's waiting in a nearby parking lot because she doesn't feel safe walking up to meet me alone. I got that, I totally did. She was probably wearing something super fancy,

some sort of dress and heels, but I get to the parking lot and I start getting a bad feeling. It's super dark, pretty much deserted with only a few cars parked around the edges and it's actually way off from the main connecting roads so that walking into the place I'd be pretty much alone and out of sight. But I'm thinking with my other head, you dig? So I can only really blame myself when that lily-white meth head put a gun in my face. I thought it was just a random robbery at first, but when they demanded I turn over the jewelry, I knew what had happened. It was those guys, the whole time, that had completely catfished me, built me up, then smashed me down in the worst way possible. Not only was I down like $600 in cash and jewelry but I had got into my head that this girl, this totally fictional girl was like the love of my

life. I think that hurt more than just losing the money. You can get the money back but not the self-worth, the self-esteem. So be careful out there, my guys. And be super, super careful when meeting strangers online. I'm an 18-year- old from the UK. This happened in February 2019 and I was 17 at the time. I got set up on a semi-blind date, we had seen photos of each other by a mutual friend and this guy we'll call Cameron. He was 19. Cameron seemed like your average guy, maybe a little into video games and anime and stuff but overall nothing my friend told me about him seemed off in any way our mutual friend gave us each

other's numbers and we texted for a night and decided to meet in the Starbucks the next day since we were both free I never like to meet new people this soon but I figured since Cameron knew my friend it couldn't possibly go wrong. But how mistaken I was. I arrived slightly early, ordered my coffee since I never like guys to feel that they had to buy anything for me and parked up on a seat facing away from the door and pulled out my book. I'm maybe there for 15 minutes chilling out and I get a text saying he's here. So I'm like, great, I'm at X table. I feel a presence over my shoulder and I turn my head slightly in acknowledgement. He must be here. Before I even

get the chance to squeak out a hello, his lips latched onto my neck and he starts sucking my neck. Now I don't like when people are touching my neck at the best of times. I'm incredibly ticklish and I get super uncomfortable by people even being around my neck. The few times I've had massages or hair treatments I've been holding my neck just in discomfort. And he's latched on it like a leech. And this man smells horrendous. Kind of like dust personified. I freak out and elbow his chest to get him off of me. He lets go and looks at me with this weird expression on his face and laughs in just sort

of a deadpan manner. It's really really creepy and I started to become alarmed. I ask him what that was about and he just says I thought it was cute. Cute? In what world? I try to have a conversation. I'm like, okay, first impressions don't mean anything. Let's try and give him a chance. But he's just creepily staring at my chest. He says, wow, I didn't know Asians could have chests like those. I better not let you go. That's a direct quote, and I cannot make this up. I'm distinctly uncomfortable, but I don't want to just run away. He's giving me really weird vibes, so I go into the lady's bathroom and wait for someone else to come in.

I ask her to help me get out of here undetected. I don't want this man following me home or some craziness. She of course agrees and she lends me her hat and scarf as it was February in the UK after all. We come out of the bathroom together and she manages to help me sneak out of the back door of the Starbucks without him noticing. He asked my friend where I went but I told my friend to never mention me again. I was too terrified. I know I probably didn't behave well, I should have just told him I was leaving but honestly, I was just too scared. Dear guy who decided it was appropriate to suck my neck before he'd even said hello. Please, never, ever text me again. Our little village was the kind of place where everyone knows everyone and I could count the

amount of houses on two hands. We were a really quiet and close-knit community and nothing ever happened there. Proper out-in-the-stick stuff. One night a few years ago, my mom and my stepdad had gone out to this concert and left me in charge of my little brother and the dog. I wasn't very old, about 14, and I felt really proud that my parents trusted me enough to do that. I thought I was a pretty cool big brother and thought we'd be doing cool babysitter stuff like staying up late, eating pizza, etc. I'm kind of glad we did because I don't know what would have happened if we hadn't. At about 10.30 the power cut out. I didn't think anything of it because the weather hadn't been great lately and

I figured that hat had something to do with it. I got some candles out of the cupboard and lit them and put some of our favorite songs on. As soon as I sat back down, Sonny, my little brother, turned to me and, being the weird little kid he was, told me very calmly that someone was outside. I was a little perturbed by him but the dog hadn't done anything so I presumed it was just the neighbors or something. He just shrugged and went back to his drawings. There's a running joke in our house that you don't need a clock with the dog around because he is such a creature of habit that he will consistently get up at exactly the same time every night to tell you that it's time to initiate his nightly protocol to go to bed.

It was about three quarters of an hour after the power went out when my dog decided that now was the time. I told Sonny to go get the dog his biscuit while I let him out for his pee. Now our kitchen is an extension to the original house and so as such has a flat roof that's comparatively low to the ground compared to the rest of the house and offers easy access to the bathroom window. As I open the door so the dog could do his thing, Sonny pushes past me in the doorway and whispers, I know you're out there, I'm calling the police. As he turned around with the biggest proudest smile you'd ever seen on his face, there was a very distinct rustling coming from just above the doorway.

I don't think I'll ever forget the way Sonny's face dropped when he looked just above my head. I looked up. The man sitting on the roof above me panicked Tried to kick me and then ran off into the next door's garden And presumably into the cornfield surrounding our village I was scared stiff And Sonny was bawling his eyes out I ushered him inside as quickly as I could and got a knife from the kitchen We both went to his room and I told him to try and get some sleep while I waited for our parents to come back.

It was an agonizingly long four hours before they did. My stepdad immediately went outside to check and see if everything was alright. I heard them talking about how something had smashed the fuse box. Obviously we called the police but they didn't come until later that day. They did a search of the immediate premises and found a makeshift bed in a nearby disused barn along with pictures of silhouettes of us in the shower through the frosted glass. I think it's pretty safe to say the whole experience definitely shook us up. We moved out as soon as we could but I still shut curtains whenever I can and I see shadows underneath every door I see. Sonny keeps quiet about it but I'm not sure if that's just because from Michigan, but I was 20 at the time this took place. I live in a safe town and I was working at a Walmart in the next town over, which is an even safer town.

I work midnights because I am definitely not a people person. Every day I would go home on my lunch to see my new puppy who to this day had kept me going through countless problems in my life. Working midnights there was basically no cars on the road when I was going home on my lunches. It was when I was four miles from work at a stoplight that I noticed a car had been behind me for a mile or two. I drive like a grandma and always go the speed limit so there wasn't a reason for someone to been behind me for a mile or two. I drive like a grandma and always go the speed limit so there wasn't a reason for someone to stay behind me with clear open road all over. I keep on my way home, the car is still behind me another mile. I thought okay that's weird but

maybe just a coincidence. I then had to turn on a side street which only has neighbors along either side for about a mile. And you guessed it, that car turned too. I started to get worried but still brushed it off. Maybe they live down the street. It's when I turned into my neighborhood that I started to lose it when the car was still following me. I turned down my street but didn't pull into my driveway because I didn't want to lead this creeper to my house so I kept driving and took another way back out of my neighborhood and the car was still tailing me. Just to be positive before I called 911 I drove through my neighborhood the same way as before and he continued to follow again. I got back on the main road from the side street and dialed 911 crying because at that point I was terrified, and explained the situation to them.

I headed back towards my work. She asked me where I was and I told her the crossroads and lucky me, there was a patrol unit a mile up. Yeah, and the car is still behind me. She stayed on the phone with me and told me to pull into the 7-11 at the crossroads and the police were close to it. The car pulls in after me too, and the dispatcher later told me to turn my hazards on so the police know which car was which. The car must have seen the police car and tried to leave, but not today buddy. They stopped him on his way out. I was just parked in a spot crying hysterically. An officer comes over and asks if I know a Michael Stonebreaker and I say I don't.

The officer continues to say he has a good amount of illicit substances on him and this isn't his first arrest so he'll be going away for a while. Why did he follow me? What was his motive? The officer also said the creeper said that he was following me because he thought I was his friend. Why didn't he pull up to me at the red light where we were stopped at? Why wouldn't he have tried to get my attention somehow? It was a very terrifying experience for me even if it doesn't sound scary to some of you and this taught me a valuable lesson. Pay close attention to your surroundings day or night. Anything can happen, even in a safe town. I'm a college student working in retail and over winter break I was taking as many shifts as possible because first semester left me broke.

In the first few weeks of January I had a slew of closing shifts at the register and on the sales floor. They were always pretty dry. One night a man comes to the register with a return and then comes back later with a lot of random clothes. Not that weird to have someone with multiple transactions, especially with the holidays having just finished. He's mid-50s, a South Asian accent and really distinct salt and pepper hair. Before I go any further, let me mention I'm also a guy and I'm gay but I usually have a fake customer voice so you can't really tell, if you know what I mean. This man is talking to me for a while and I honestly feel weirdly comfortable with him.

At one point he asked about my pant size and asked me to step back from the register to see my lower body. A lot of people ask me about what size I wear, usually to compare to their teenage sons, so this wasn't weird, but then he comments on my butt being big. I'm kind of half laughing like, oh, people told me that before, and I'm constantly thinking, why would I tell him that? He has to see it and in that moment I almost did again while my conscience is screaming not to do that. Before I stopped and said that's a bad idea I'd get in trouble over a total joke and he responds deadpan with nobody's watching. Oh my god. He just keeps being conversational until I turn around to fold

one of his items and he says, your friends were right about your butt. I turn around and he keeps repeating my name that he saw on my name tag and I put my hand on the register while I wait for his receipt to print. He puts his hand on top of mine and I immediately twist into a handshake to try and normalize this. He says, it was nice to meet you, Andrew. And he walks out. And then he comes back in with more random stuff. Before he can try anything, another customer comes and suddenly he isn't talking. He mouths something to me at the register and leaves. And he comes back again once the next customer leaves. He asks for the bathroom, goes and returns less than 30 seconds later. He asks if I work tomorrow. You have to understand my complete panic at this moment

and I just say the first thing that comes to mind which is the truth. I say yes and he smiles and leaves. I come into work tomorrow because I'd get a lot of guff if I called out and I work on the sales floor. I figured nothing is going to happen and that was just a one night event with a creeper. I joke about it with my co-worker and then he walks in and my stomach plummets and I sprint to the bathroom to hide. My walkie-talkie flies out of my pocket but I'm too spooked to do anything except beeline to the bathroom. In there I call every one of my co-workers on the job but not a single one answers their phone because our managers are bogus about that and the walkie is gone. I hear footsteps outside the bathroom and I feel trapped. I feel like vomiting but open the door and it's a white guy and his kid,

thank god. I dash for my walkie and tell my manager the situation. She lets me take refuge in the back for 10 minutes and then makes me return to work because making women's leggings look pretty is more important than a man prowling the store. He walks around for 45 minutes and my co-workers always stay close to me. My closest friend described it as a lion searching for prey in the store. He was searching every corner and I was thankful to have great co-workers to keep me on the move and surrounded wherever he came near. Eventually, he returned every item he bought with me yesterday. He told the cashier he'd come back again tomorrow,

and I didn't work so I'm not sure what became of him. I never saw him again. I was arrogant to think as a man I would never be targeted like that by a creep. I won't be returning to the job this summer because my manager's response didn't sit really well with me. Hopefully, I'll find a job where safety is the priority and not an afterthought. I was in college. My roommate was a born-again Christian and she invited me to her Bible study and church all the time. Eventually I went and I kept going. I wasn't a fan of the pastor but there were a lot of nice young adults who liked to have clean, sober fun

and I didn't drink or party so I felt like I fit in. But I didn't agree with everything they believed in, just the more normal stuff like God and helping the poor and not some other things. This one guy in the bible study, Drew, was pretty quiet. He was good looking. He seemed like he knew everything about the bible which really amazed me. I thought, I know nothing about all this. He's so wise. I was 21 and he was 27. He wasn't a college student, he just worked, which I later learned. Maybe he didn't. We were going to go on a young adult retreat and because I worked, I couldn't leave early on Friday to drive up to the mountains with the girls in the group. Mutual friends said that I could ride with Drew so I said okay. On the way up, Drew was pretty quiet for the first hour. Not very friendly at

all and it was a long trip. But as we got closer to the mountains, he really warmed up. We got pizza and he paid which was nice. Then he stopped the car just so we could look at the stars. He even played some Brian McKnight. He was turning it into a date but I didn't know it or see it that way then. I was starting to really like him and feel like we had a connection. He is just about to drop me off at the girl's cabin when he suddenly gets very serious and tells me that something happened between him and another girl in our church group but she is telling lies about him and to not believe whatever I hear. He doesn't explain what actually happened and doesn't say who it is. I enter the cabin and all the girls are there and very quickly one girl, Bree,

who is probably the youngest in the group at 19, tells all of us, ladies, there is a wolf in sheep's clothing amongst us at this retreat. Now if you don't know church folk, they get very dramatic and talk like this all the time. So I just thought, okay, here's some drama. She tells us this story about how she was talking to some guy here but he started stalking her and wouldn't take no for an answer and he even threatened her sister. Now my spidey sense is up and I realize this must be what Drew was telling me about. The church group doesn't know who it is because she won't say because she doesn't want to gossip and she says leadership

will handle it. Well, Drew eventually leaves the weekend retreat early and there goes my ride back I thought. I don't know if he was asked to leave or what. That week, Drew asked me to hang out and we do. I still like him and don't know who to believe. On our hangouts, we don't really do anything. He takes me to the mall and reads the bible to me. Okay, cool. Then he parks his car on some suburban lookout, top of the world type of thing, and just said he is a view guy who really likes views. I am not one to be impressed by suburban lights, so I'm just like, okay, well, this is boring. I give him another chance. I invite him to come see a play with me. When he comes, he immediately meets one of my friends,

Brian. Brian introduced us to his boyfriend, Nick. I'm in theater, many gay friends. Well, for the majority of the rest of the date, Drew lectures me about gays are going to suffer and I must not really love them if I don't stop them to tell them the truth about the gospel. I eventually cry because it is this ugly argument in this car we're having for hours in the parking lot of a Panera. I say I want to go home. This is basically the worst date ever. I don't agree with what he says. He also tells me I need to give up my dream of being an actress because what if the Lord doesn't want me to do that? Theater is something I did my whole life.

Not to mention my major and his reasons for giving it up had nothing to do with the impracticality of it but because of God. This guy was turning out to be nuts. I get home and I offer to make us some cocoa to just kind of end things as friends or at least on a better note. I know I'll see him at church and we have mutual friends or in the same bible study. Things got weird. He tried to get intimate with me but then also blame me for tempting him. How with my tear strained exhausted face? I ended up crying again. I just wanted him to go home but I was so emotionally exhausted I didn't know what to make of this. He calls and texts me that week and I don't respond. Then it's Sunday night. I'm

talking to my friend Tim who no longer goes to this church anymore. I tell him I went on a date with Drew. Before I can tell him how it went, Tim says, what? That guy's crazy. You need to abort that mission. Tim tells me that he is close with Bree and her family and Drew is a stalker and threatened Bree's sister. I don't know what to believe because it sounds like Tim believes this just based on Bree's story. I hang up and call my mom to try to tell her what happened, what Tim told me about Drew and how it was such weird timing considering what happened with me. While I'm on the phone with my mom I get a knock at the door. It is 10pm on a Sunday night. I look out but no one's there. I go to get my roommate and ask her if she can just sit with me in the front room because I'm freaked out and think someone's there. There is another knock at the door.

I open it, and it's true, and he looks all in a frenzy. I ask him what he's doing here, and he said he just needed to talk to me, and I wasn't answering my phone, which was because I was generally busier earlier in the day. The conversation is getting long, and my roommate is still sitting there, so I tell her she can go back to her room if it's okay. I let him come in because I am conditioned to be kind of overly nice and this was a big mistake. We start talking and as soon as my roommate is gone he pulls out a knife and starts saying how he was worried my neighbors did something to me because I wasn't answering his texts

and he didn't know what kind of situation he'd be walking into. I have zero fighting skills, no experience in this situation at all, so I calmly say as casually as possible, hey, can you put the knife away? It makes me feel uncomfortable. He asks me if I want the knife and I say no, I just want to pretend it isn't here. I somehow talk him down, get him to leave. I think I convince him he still has his shot with me somehow. The next morning, my mind is clear and I feel like I need to tell my mom what happened. She has me tell my dad who has me tell the church youth leader in security at my apartment. I tell a cop the whole story and he says that this guy is definitely a stalker and I will see him again unless the police call him.

I say it's fine, I think everything will be okay, no need to call. I just didn't want more drama. I'd never talked to a policeman about anything before and I was still processing and didn't understand that this was serious. That was my mistake. The next night, I went to a party, another church related one but Drew is not supposed to be here. He told me before that he wasn't going. Well, there he is and I decide to leave but my 21 year old self doesn't think to ask to have someone walk me out. I figured if I leave and he's still here, problem solved. I didn't anticipate him realizing I left and following me.

I'm walking to my car in a dark apartment parking lot and I hear him call out my name. He's following me. I start running and I say I don't want to talk. He begins giving chase. I'm clicking my car to open thinking this is how white girls die because she didn't let the cop call a stalker because she's dumb. Thankfully, my car unlocks. I get in and drive away. Problem is, this guy knows where I live. I move out two weeks later and I block him on all social media and my phone. Drew eventually somehow managed to make another Facebook profile and sent me a message that summer saying he was praying for me and he had forgiven me for trashing him to people,

even though I still never told anyone that happened except for the useless pastor who did nothing. And that was the last I saw or heard of him. Unfortunately, this predator continued to serve at that church and the junior high ministry of all places, around many young girls. No one on church leadership listened to me or to Bree who both complained that this guy was stalking us. I never reached out to Bree to let her know what happened to me, and I never got to hear her story in detail. But I told the youth adult pastor about the knife and him trying to get intimate with me and how scared I was. Thankfully I don't go to that church anymore.

This was all a pre-MeToo movement and what sucks is that I've had a few experiences with crazy religious dudes. This was the first but definitely not the last. I'm still trying to come to experiences with crazy religious dudes. This was the first, but definitely not the last. I'm still trying to come to terms with why that is. When I was in my early 20s, I worked as a bank teller for a couple of years before moving on to my current industry. I'd been having a run of self-induced bad dating luck. Self-induced meaning I was choosing fellas that were fast, dirty, and fun while expecting to find long-lasting love. There was this guy who was a manager of a local country western-style nightclub that did their banking business with a bank I worked at that was not my type and totally the opposite of the kind of fellas that I'd been going for. When he started coming inside the bank for the club's deposits, we had some fun back and forth banter that led to flirting over some weeks. Well he eventually asked me out on a date and

I thought whatever, he's witty and I really enjoy talking to him so I said yes. Clearly my normal type wasn't working out for me. I was gun shy after my failed dating experiences so I suggested lunch to keep things light and casual. He asked if he could still pick me up and as a sucker for chivalry I said yes. So he picked me up from the bank's front parking lot. In hindsight I realized what a bad career decision it was to date a bank customer, let alone get in the car with him right in front of the building. 30-year-old me would kick my 20-something-year-old butt. The front parking lot was for customers only. The back lot was for employees only. The back lot had three rows with third being furthest away from the bank. You probably had to walk 50 yards or so from the back door of the bank to the

third row where I parked. Things seemed totally fine when I got in the car with him. It was pretty typical in terms of awkwardness considering it was a first date. He drove me to a pub slash grill downtown and that's when things got weird. When we sat down it was like some other dude took over his body. He started telling me about his most recent breakup and ex-girlfriend, how she ended up being a psycho, she stalked him, took out a restraining order against him, caused him to lose his job, broke his heart, the works, on and on and on. I really don't think I said more than ten words the whole time and some of those were to order my food. He talked about his drama the entire time. So, I'm sitting there across the table

from Motormouth and he suddenly says that we should cut the date short so I can get back to the bank in time. He says it will take us too long to get back if we don't leave now. The ride back he was dead silent and till we pulled back up into the parking lot. He tells me he had an amazing time and that he hopes we can do it again. Now I'm fully aware people can get super nervous on first dates and then many people struggle from social anxiety so I'm not totally out at this point. I gave the dude my number. Then I thanked him for lunch and went back inside feeling overwhelmed and very puzzled. We were not allowed to have our cell phones out of the bank so I put it where I always did, inside my bag that was inside my locked teller cabinet.

I took a break later that afternoon and when I checked my phone, I had well over 20 missed calls and text after text after text after text from this guy. He started out sweet and then when I didn't answer his calls or nice texts, deteriorated into downright nuts. Why aren't you answering? Is it over already? Should I come back to the bank so we can talk? Etc. I was freaked, but at work I just threw my phone back in my bag and tried to shake it off. I was mentally beating myself up for my bad choices for the rest of the day. When the bank closed that evening, I locked up my teller drawer and walked out to my car. There was a single red rose tucked into my windshield wiper. I yanked my phone out of my bag and the last text I had from him was, I hope you like your surprise. I didn't drive my

car to meet this guy for our date. He picked me up in the customer lot. I got to work every day an hour before opening. There's no way he could know what I drove without doing some serious detective work. I snatched the rose off of the car, threw it down, and got out of there fast. I drove around in circles before I went home because I was scared of being followed. I blocked his number. He didn't come back in the lobby again after that day. He started going through the drive-up window. A few months later after we hadn't seen him for a while one of the other club employees told us that he had been fired for stealing money. I never told anyone at the bank about it especially my boss. Sure makes me wonder

about all those stories he told about his ex on the lunch date. I told my current boyfriend this story a year or two ago and he thinks the guy had probably been watching me for a while before he asked me out and that's how he knew which car was mine. Unfortunately, I may never know. It all happened back in the 90s. I would say 96 or 97. I was something around 14 years old. I had this close friend, Carl. Carl was like a big brother to me. Sometimes playful, sometimes a bully.

As most of the boys who grew up in the 90s, we spent all of our free time playing video games, watching cheesy horror flicks, and roaming around the neighborhood on our bikes, all stickered up like motorcycles. Once in a while, my mother would take us to my gran's. They lived in the countryside just outside of our town. After having our meal, we would usually gear up, grab some snacks and juices, and jump on our bikes to go to the lake.

To do so, we had to ride till the end of a bumpy road, then go through a sunflower's field. The lake was downhill from there. Every time we'd cross the field, a building in the far would intrigue us. It seemed abandoned. It was a typical factory building from the 80s. We could see a lot of windows were jammed, some parts of the roof had holes, and the sun was beaming from it. I swear we came across this place 30 times at least. Sometimes we'd come closer and play truth or dare. I always end up being the chicken as

Carl was really willing to check in there. One day though, I was dared. We parked the bikes against a wooden fence and then we started the trespassing. Outside the building, a dozen of rusty cars, engines out, some seats put on the floor, some others burnt or mauled. The entrance was poorly barricaded but enough to make us climb up a pipe to the first window we saw. The inside was shocking. It looked like if people stopped all that they were doing to rush out. Tools were disposed on workshops. A car was hung up by a huge chain and it was still slightly moving. The only thing that yelled abandon was the tremendous amount of dirt and dust.

I remember Carl found an iron pole and started swinging like he was a video game character or whatever. I knew him. Even if he played it cool, I felt he was scared and tried to act tough. We headed to what seemed to be the administrative aisle. It was upstairs. We had to take some thin iron stairs, threatening to detach from the staircase on every breath. The gloominess intensified. This place was basically a long hallway with offices all along.

Again, it could have been functional the week before because except the dust and the stuffy smell, everything was left untouched. In a room, we found a newspaper from 1984 or 85 and it made us compute that they had bailed out this year. What impressed me the most was the family pictures and frames that we found in some offices. That was creepy.

Who would leave work forever without taking back pictures of your kids and women? At this time a picture meant something, smartphones didn't exist so if you lost it, it was done. When we took back the stairs, Carl saw a small wooden door under the staircase and it led to a basement. That place looked inhabited. The floor was covered with trash, feces and it smelled like urine. In a corner we found the actively decaying corpse of a cat. A green curtain was hanging and masked what we were about to see. Behind the curtain, we stared in awe in front of a man lying on the floor. He was gibbering words we didn't understand and didn't directly look at us. Another man was facing a wall. Although it was clear we were there, I even stumbled on an empty can. He was still facing that wall. To this day, I don't know what he was doing. Now it was clear that the laying guy was drooling and

had his eyes completely covered red. We ran out of there. I recall jumping on my bike and seeing a silhouette behind a window on the first floor, and we never told this story to our parents as we were too afraid of being grounded. Last year I chatted with Carl on social media, as we hadn't seen each other for 15 years. I asked him if he remembered that day, and he told me, of course I remember. I was soil in my pants, dude, I didn't want to go there at all, and I never thought that you would say dare. For background, my family moved to the countryside from the city when I was about 7 years old, and I'm 21 now. Both my parents had grown up in the suburbs and had lived in the capital of our state

for about 10 years before we moved It definitely took us some time to get used to the train tracks that ran by our house The wild animals, the weird but kind neighbors and the odd visitors Another thing is that you have to get off the main road and turn onto a long gravel drive to get up to our house We can see the entire length of the driveway from certain points in our yard, which is about three acres. A few years after we moved in, my dad got a promotion at work and, as a result, started to go to conferences and business trips that lasted from a few days to a week, at least a couple of times a year.

My mom felt nervous about being home with two young kids. I was 10 and my brother was 6 and so we decided to get a dog. We knew we wanted a big dog, but something that would be gentle with my brother and I. After a few weeks looking at shelters, we took home Rocky. He was 9 months when we took him home and already pushing 70 pounds. We believe he's a German Shepherd mixed with some Northern or Mountain breed. We aren't sure to this day, but he's a massive red-colored dog with a long black muzzle and ears, a fluffy tail that he carries over his back, and a white stripe up his nose. It wasn't long until he was 100 pounds and an absolute force to be reckoned with. Even though he was very gentle with both my brother and I, loved our cats and was a big ball of joy around anyone we brought into our house,

he tended to be very territorial and aggressive with other dogs and very protective of us, especially of my mom and I. Once the electric company came to do work on the telephone poles in our property without telling us first and after 20 minutes they finally had to call us because Rocky had them trapped in their truck and was just jumping up and barking at their windows. I doubt he would have really attacked them if they'd gotten out of their trucks but it was more than enough to make them think twice. This protective instinct came in very very handy one day. It was summertime, my dad was at work and my mom was home with my brother and I since she was a teacher and off for the summer with us. My mom was working in our garden and my brother and I were playing close by with Rocky watching over all of us. Rocky all of a sudden sounded the alarm,

throwing his head up in the air and barking and howling. He makes a deep woo woo noise. I looked up to see a dirty white pickup truck pull off from the main road and into our driveway. This wasn't necessarily alarming at first as people sometimes used our driveway to turn around when they got lost. But the white pickup slowly ambled up our driveway and I could see something strange in the bed. It was lumpy and discolored, but I couldn't really tell what it was until we pulled all the way up to our house, where our other cars were, and honked the horn to get our attention. It was meat. Giant red chunks of meat with some of the limbs of various animals still attached. It was the creepiest thing I'd ever seen. Just a grizzled, scraggly man in his

early 50s driving a pickup truck full of meat in the southern July heat. I immediately just got a really, really bad vibe from this guy and I remember my mom telling my brother and I to go inside and we did, but watched out the glass door. Rocky had surprisingly been quiet at that point, but was now next to my mom and she had her hand around his collar. The guy rolled down his window and asked my mom if she wanted to purchase some meat. My mom said no and to please leave our property. Instead, he went on about different types of meat and asking how much we wanted. Beef, venison, pork, etc. My mom asked him to leave again, but instead, he decided to get out of the nasty white pickup. As soon as his feet were on the ground, Rocky went ballistic, barking and snarling. This finally made the guy stop.

He looked at Rocky, looked at my mom and asked, Does your dog bite? And my mom, deathly serious, replied, Only if I tell him to. The guy took one more look at Rocky and I'm guessing decided not to mess with the giant snarling beast. He got back in his truck, backed up and headed back down our driveway. I don't know if he was really selling meat or not, but apparently he'd been around to our neighbors who also had just gotten a really bad vibe from him. We'll never know what he was really up to with those giant slaps of meat in the bed of his pickup truck. Maybe he was just a weird guy trying to

sell some sketchy meat. Maybe he was looking for something else. We never saw Meat Man and as we started to call him again though. Rocky is still kicking it by the way, he's almost 15 and completely deaf but he's still out in the yard on summer days, watching over us. After binge watching so many let's read youtube videos, I finally decided to submit a story of my own. I'm a 19 year old girl as I'm writing this, and at the time of this story, I had just turned 18 years old and was in the first few months of my senior year of high school. One weekend, my twin sister and I went to the mall about a half hour's drive from where we lived. She had to repair a necklace that she had bought at one of the in-mall jewelers. Right before we walked into the jewelry store, we were confronted by a boy that looked to be about the same age as us. He gave us a flyer advertising a party he was hosting about a week

later. He told us it would be an absolute rager and that we should add him on Snapchat. So, naturally, we both did, and his name was Woonie. So at this point in my life I have never been to a real party. I drank and smoked quite often and experimented with psychedelics from time to time but only with a couple of my close friends. I always envied the popular crowd at my school posting Snapchat stories of them at parties with kids in the grade above mine. I'm conventionally attractive and get along with people pretty easily, so I was confused and angry that people would never invite me to things. Looking back, I know it's because for some reason I had such a goody-goody facade,

and still kind of do, even though people didn't really know anything about me. If people learned that I was into that kind of stuff, their response has always been something along the lines of, oh my god, really? You seem so innocent, I'd never expect you doing anything like that. But I digress. But as you might expect, I jumped at the chance to go to any party, even if I didn't know anyone there.

I would just bring my best friend or twin sister along with me. Throughout the week, as I clicked through my Snapchat stories, I'd see the party being advertised on Woonie Story. It had the name of some local DJ I'd never heard of and said the address would be released a few hours before the party. I was getting so pumped, I had no idea what to expect. Friday night comes along after eagerly waiting all week. My twin already had plans that night so I decided on bringing my best friend. I invited her over to my house hours before the party so we could decide what to wear. After the address was released we started on our way. I didn't pay any attention to where exactly

the party was, just how far of a drive it would be. It was about 15 minutes away from my house. As we got closer to our destination, I realized that we weren't exactly in the best part of town. I knew this because it was relatively close to where my grandparents lived and my mom always said that there was a lot of crime there. I didn't really mind, it didn't phase me too much because I knew if it came down to it, I knew what measures to take to keep myself out of harm's way and when to remove myself from situations before they got out of hand. Plus, my best friend always carried a pocket knife on her. Never would I think we would actually need it and I kinda always forgot she even carried it with her. We arrive and we're about one or two blocks from the house.

I didn't know that there were going to be so many people there, so we had to park a street over from the house. We could hear music blaring from where we parked. This made me even more excited. So this is what an actual party is like. We walked up to the house and it looked really old and beat up. It wasn't small but the surrounding neighborhood was pretty bad. And there's, I kid you not, a line at the door like it's some kind of exclusive club.

I thought this was completely normal since I was inexperienced in the party scene. Once we get up to the door, there's two guys acting like bouncers and making sure that guys paid the $5 to get in. Girls got in for free. And there was a little boy who couldn't have been older than 10 also on the porch patting people down. They informed us that they wanted to make sure nobody brought guns. What? Why would they have to worry about that? And this obviously made me uncomfortable. But I mean they were checking people I guess so it alleviated some of my anxiety. But I really didn't want a 10 year old boy who definitely wasn't trained in security in any way patting me down. So I stepped

back with my hands up and emptied my pockets. I said, I don't have anything. I wasn't even carrying a bag and I was in a tank top and jean shorts. I couldn't hide anything anyways. They proceeded to let us in and apparently the party was downstairs, so we headed in that direction. The basement was unfinished and the walls, ceilings, and floors were all just concrete. I remember the lights were off and they had strobe lights flashing everywhere. It was so loud I couldn't even hear my friend talking to me when she was standing right next to me. We didn't know anybody there so we just started mingling and trying to find someone with alcohol. We made our rounds talking to people and managed to get a few shots from people in exchange for a hit or two off of our minibong that my friend brought in her bag.

We danced a little bit with our new friends and I honestly was having a really fun time. The DJ puts cups on a table in front of his equipment and said that it was real lean. I had just started dabbling in new substances and had been wanting to try the purple drank and it was my first real party after all so why not? My friend and I each took a glass and chugged it. It didn't take long to start feeling the effects. Drinking alcohol and smoking earlier definitely added to it. I felt kind of loopy but I was still having a good time. A few minutes later my friend said she wanted to get a glass of water. The only bathroom was upstairs so I went with her to try and find it. When we got up to the main floor there were two middle-aged men just watching TV in the living room. I presumed that they were the homeowners so I thanked them for having so

many people over and told them I was having fun. They were glad. I asked them where the bathroom was because we were just going to get water from the tap. One of the men stood up and got two bottled waters out of the fridge for us. It was really loud and crowded and hot downstairs so we just decided to stay up there for a while to collect ourselves. They asked if we wanted to sit and watch TV with them. I said sure because I was honestly really tired from standing around down there. We chilled and told them where we went to school and talked about our jobs and hobbies. They were being friendly and pleasant and I really liked actually being able to meet new people without all of the noise. They offered us shots and said we can have as much as we wanted and we both casually sipped off of it a few times.

They even offered to share their joint with us. I was sitting on the middle couch cushion and the two men were on either side of me while my friend was on the nearby armchair. After hanging out and fooling around for a while, she said that she left her bag downstairs and went to go get it. When she left, the two men both started inching closer to me. I was pretty messed up at this point so I didn't really think much of it or care too much. Only when one started rubbing my leg that I started to get weirded out. The other one joined in too and I just sat there confused for a few seconds. It took me longer than normal to realize what they were trying to do. One started

to move his hand closer to my inner thigh. He took my hand and put it on his pants. I got pretty freaked out and jumped up off of the couch and said I used the bathroom. My friend came upstairs at this point and I told her that we should leave. She came to the bathroom with me and I explained everything to her. We decided we'd thank the guys for having us over and sharing their stuff with us and then leave as soon as possible. When we said we had to head out because it was getting late they acted all sad and tried to convince us to stay.

I said I had a curfew and was already out later than I was supposed to be so we had to go. We made our way out to the door and both of them followed us. One said he really needed a ride home and we were the only people he knew with a car to take him. This really scared me and I knew it wasn't true. I said I didn't have enough gas and that I wish I could help him out but we really had to be going home. He offered gas money but of course I still said no.

It was too late and I didn't want to be driving all over the place while still being kind of messed up. And I also had to take my friend home. They started getting angry and said, man you girls gonna be invited to a party for free and steal our liquor and we would not do anything in return for us huh? Even though they offered all of that stuff to us and we had some stuff of our own that we said we were willing to share, man I'm about to destroy y'all. At this point I was terrified, almost frozen in my tracks. I saw my friend put her hand over the pocket that held her knife. A few of the teenagers from downstairs came out as they must have been leaving too.

They asked the two men about something I don't remember, but my friend whispered that we had to go to the car while we had the chance and their backs were sort of turned away from us. We just turned the other way, started fast walking in the direction of our car. I didn't want to make any sudden movements so once we had a considerable distance between them and us, we booked it to the car. I locked the doors as soon as we got in and sped off as soon as possible. Later I found out that that party got busted by the cops so I'm glad we left when we did. It was scary at the time but I realize now how bad it could have turned out. I'm way more cautious with what I put in my body and how much. I still have way too friendly and accommodating personality and

I try not to assume that people have ulterior motives but I know I have to be safer around strangers. A lot has happened in my life since then so thankfully that night rarely crosses my mind anymore. It's kind of funny now that I've been to so many parties I realize how crazy and normal that one actually was. I don't accept invites to parties from random people anymore. I guess I'll start with some backstory. I am a female working in a predominantly male industry and the only female in my company to have been in a STEM position. I started here in my late 20s and garnered a lot of unwanted attention from male colleagues,

considering the average age for the employees here are in their 50s. I attended a well-respected university and got my bachelor's degree in a field of science. I have worked hard my entire life, paying my own way through school while working. And I do not like to sound full of myself, but I am intelligent, hardworking, and I take pride in what I do. However, given my choice of university and degree, I was one of the few females in my classes. After a while, you get used to being the only girl and learn how to shrug off all of the sort of degrading comments. I have had other students suggest that I did something with a professor to earn my good grades and others suggest that I shouldn't be asked to show them how to solve homework problems because

I'm a girl and don't know what I'm talking about. If anything, these comments just push me to prove myself even more. I thought that when I graduated and went into the industry that those comments would become far and few between. I travel with my position and work with customers frequently. This usually entails taking customers to dinner, on the company dime of course, and that is where the most inappropriate comments are made. However, there is the rare occasion that someone in my workplace crosses the line. It takes a good bit to really get under my skin. I have only ever had to file harassment cases against another colleague once in my life and that is where this story begins. There was a man that worked in my company for longer than I have been alive. He was in his late 60s, overweight and had bright white hair.

He basically looked like a creepy Santa. Before I was hired, he was demoted for some involvement in another case that had gone to court and ended in a monetary compensation of the victim. The colleague, however, still had the respect of the head of the company. He was viewed by the CEO as being all-knowing in the industry. The rest of the company had a different view of him though. He was notorious for saying explicit and inappropriate things to hourly associates. He was rumored to have been paying some associates for certain favors, if you catch my drift. Knowing all of this and his propensity to run his mouth to the rumor mill,

I have always interacted with him with my guard up. When the incident took place, it was a Monday morning. I was walking down a hallway of sorts and told him, good morning, how was your weekend? As I do with most of my colleagues. I am a friendly and personable individual, so this is a normal Monday morning behavior. He replied that his weekend was good. He had taken the previous Friday off and said he enjoyed his long weekend. He then went on to tell me that he had a dream about me on Friday night. I was slightly shocked and responded, oh. He continued to say that he dreamed that I called him to a private bathroom at the facility.

Then when he arrived in his dream, I was completely without clothes. He then proceeded to tell me all of the graphic things that he and I did in his dream. He even went as far as saying that he woke up in a state of being aroused and I'm just paraphrasing here. I was shocked at what he was saying and just tried to walk away not saying anything. He kept following, trying to tell me about the dream and I was so uncomfortable and was not sure how to handle it. A few days after the occurrence I spoke to a colleague who I trusted to tell what happened and my colleague urged me that this needs reported and that if I didn't, they would. I was very hesitant to bring it up to the CEO. I am a survivor of childhood abuse. I never told my family until I was manipulated into it in my mid-twenties. The aftermath was catastrophic to

me as well as all my relationships with most of my family. Not having proper support during that time made me feel as though I would experience the same if I brought this to the attention of the CEO who so adored this colleague so, given the choice of telling my story or having my story told for me, I would rather control the narrative and tell it myself. I went and reported the incident. The CEO acted as if they were mortified that this occurred. They assured me that it would be dealt with, that they would report back to me before any action was taken. The following Monday I was forced to attend a regularly scheduled meeting that both I and the colleague would be in, as well as the CEO, and I was incredibly uncomfortable. This meeting lasted two hours and I had a migraine by the time it concluded from all the stress.

When this meeting ended, the CEO pulled me aside and spoke to me behind closed doors. The CEO told me that the colleague was spoken to regarding this incident, that the employee did not deny the allegations but that, after having spoken, they now better understand what had occurred. The CEO spoke, almost insinuating that it was my fault. The CEO even put the disciplinary decision up to me, saying, I can either fire him or not. I felt uncomfortable being put into a situation to choose the disciplinary action. I also expressed my concern that the perpetrator would speak about this with others in the facility, as we both know he loves the rumor mill. I was assured that this would not happen. Two days later I was told the final decision was

that the colleague was told not to do it again and that is all that would be done. Meanwhile, I was still forced to interact with this person daily and it caused me a lot of stress. Soon I had other colleagues mentioning to me that the perpetrator had been telling everyone what happened, that I asked for it, and basically victim blaming for the incident taking place. This hurt me more than the initial comment did. The fact that my name and reputation was now being drug through the mud because of unwarranted advances broke me. I went to the CEO again and told him what was happening. He assured me that he would investigate. He told me not to talk about this at all with anyone, not even HR. A week went by and nothing happened. I couldn't take it any longer. I was still working with this

person. They were still spreading rumors and lies about me. I went to a lawyer because I didn't know what else to do. And after getting some legal advice, I decided to confront this head on. I wrote an email to the CEO and expressed I felt I was not being properly protected. That my reputation was tarnished and my business was being told through the company. I was told by him not to speak of this and yet the perpetrator was still walking in every day and speaking lies about the situation to everyone, even hourly associates. The CEO called me as soon as he received it. He was overseas, so could not talk to me in person. So the conversation with him regarding the email began. The CEO began to berate me,

call me a liar and said that if I knew what other people were saying about me during his interviews, I wouldn't be too happy. I broke down on the phone and couldn't even speak. After several minutes of his belittling, he finally told me to take the rest of the day off, that he would ask the perpetrator to leave until he returned from his travel and could address this. After everything was said and done, they decided to retire and left the company while I was out of the country for work. I returned and had never seen him again. However, this wasn't done yet. I was later called into a meeting with HR and the CEO and they began to tell me that during the process of interviewing, complaints were made

against me saying that I was the only one saying inappropriate things. I tried to contest but it was promptly shut down. I put my head down and let them both condemn me and discipline me for things I hadn't done. When I left the meeting I was ready to walk out of my position. How had things gone from me reporting an incident of harassment to me being accused and condemned for harassment I didn't commit? Unfortunately I still work at this company. Every day I go to work and try to make it through the day. I have a family that depends on my income and therefore I keep pushing through. Maybe one day I will find a position in a company that actually respects me but as a female in this industry, I highly doubt it.

This is something I wanted to talk about but never found the courage to until now. Some irrelevant details will be taken out. I'm an art student and I attended an art college. I applied to school in the summer of 2018 and was accepted almost instantly. I posted a partial screenshot of my acceptance letter to Instagram to connect with other accepted students and that's the first time I talked to Matt. Matt, at first impression, was a very kind and soft-spoken dude but he was still very outgoing and talkative. He was also high-spirited and had a good sense of humor. He told me he was autistic straight away which I didn't really pay much mind to. I was more focused on how happy he seemed to be that we were talking as I know it's harder to make friends when you struggle

with things like that. I did absolutely nothing but be nice to him and I guess it contributed to what happened. When the time came everyone moved into apartments and dorms and prepared for school to start. After classes began Matt wasted no time in telling me how he was doing and asking me if I was doing okay. I just answered honestly as nothing was inherently wrong. We talked occasionally and made some friends as the semester dragged on. The first red flag popped up when he suddenly asked me while we were on a class break about my pan orientation. I'd mentioned it on Instagram posts before and I had no problem talking about it with people so I gave them

the most basic definition. I'm attracted to anyone, regardless of who they are. They seem to understand. A while later he messaged me over Facebook saying that he was sorry for asking such a personal question. I mistakenly told him that it was okay, that again I didn't mind talking about it. I say it was a mistake because he must have taken it as she's attracted to anyone regardless of anything so that means she's attracted to me. I enabled him to think this I believe. The semester passed and Matt didn't do anything more to cause suspicions. It picked up when I realized after looking through some old messages between old friends that

I could count all the times he'd asked me to eat with him at the diner. I'd forgotten about the instances because I just gave him the same answer each time. I don't think I have time for that because I'd rather focus on school. He always said he understood, but the amount of times he asked said otherwise. I thought since he was or is autistic that he just didn't understand those social cues. He needed a firm no to fully understand. Pretty soon though, as the second semester trudged by, some more red flags popped up. I was told by some classmates that Matt was acting pretty weird with a lot of girls around campus, as in he kept asking them out on a date but vaguely

like he did with me. The kicker was, if he was told that the girl he was talking to was non-binary or that the girl was trans, he would get disgusted, contrary to his comments about his support of LGBT and doesn't care if people are trans. Matt was slowly gaining a reputation of just being off. Nobody was saying this because he was autistic, surprisingly. They were saying this because he started showing his true colors. He didn't take criticism well and would make a day of it. Mind you, this is an art school. He had no filter when he was pitching stories and would always make some discriminatory jab

at physically and mentally disabled people or LGBT plus people. He was still asking if he could hang out at this point and I was getting tired and creeped out. I didn't want to be any more blunt than I already was being because I was telling him no. I don't think I could have answered him any simpler. Anyway, the semester continued and one night during another class break,

Matt sat me down and told me that he wanted to ask me a more personal question. I assumed it was just about what we had talked about before, but it was worse. He asked me with the wrong amount of cheer in his voice, what does it feel like? I was confused. What do you mean? I asked. What does doing it feel like? I hadn't done or said anything to warrant this, so I was shocked that he even asked. Before the break, the class was listening to the teacher talk about our assignment. It didn't have anything to do with anything inappropriate or anything close to that. We didn't even talk to each other the whole time. I was so confused, but I didn't want to make him angry or sad either.

I just answered his question. Nowadays, I would have screamed at him, what's wrong with you, and not cared if I made him angry or sad, but at that time, I was just too nice and too dumb. I told him that everyone experiences it differently and in my experience, it wasn't that great. He got visibly excited, no, not that kind of excited, which made me cringe so hard I felt my throat and uterus dry up. At that point, the realization of the severity hit me and I spent the rest of the week beating myself up for not being disgusted right away. I still feel like

this now as I'm writing. Matt dropped the subject soon after again, apologized over Facebook for asking a personal question. I told him that was fine, despite wanting to tell him that he was disgusting for even thinking about asking me something like that. Once again, too nice, too dumb. The final straw came when I realized that he was looking at my Instagram story at least a minute after I posted them. The quickest that he viewed them was 10 seconds. It felt like he was becoming obsessed with me. I messaged Matt finally after the second semester finished. I asked him to basically back off because he was

acting weird but for some reason he kept making excuses and didn't want to admit that he was being invasive. Long story short, he basically told me that he was worried about me and whined about how he thought that I was going to harm myself. I had been reflecting on my mental health and he took this as though I was going to end my own life. He also told me that he talked about me to his counselor and instead of telling him to leave me alone, she encouraged him to continue pursuing me and enabling him to be a creep. I still don't know what she was thinking. I exploded on him, bluntly telling him that he was making me extremely uncomfortable and I don't want him to be around me anymore.

I didn't want to talk to him and I certainly didn't want him talking to me. He saw my last message to him but he didn't reply. From then on Matt left me alone but he continued on to others. He just didn't get a single hint and he didn't want to learn that his behavior was creeping people out. He continued asking people he thought were girls out and would make a scene if they rejected him. He would harass them as well, also asking them about how doing it feels, why he wasn't worthy of them, and why they wouldn't be in bed with him and why he didn't have that kind of life. He expected them to answer him normally,

probably because I answered him normally. Matt also harassed several friends of mine. One in particular was extremely disgusted by him. She was asked the same questions that he always asked. She was also too nice, so she just told him that that was not important and school came first, since he was here to get an education. Also,

she liked girls. He just continued to complain that he wanted to be part of this kind of life, just like everyone else. I guess after realizing that nobody wanted to date or sleep with him, Matt moved on to just being even more of a jerk. He began to pitch extremely transphobic stories for class and would cry like a banshee if anyone, trans or not, told him that his stories were in fact transphobic. He acted like he was the victim because he wasn't allowed to make fun of or bash these people while he was in a classroom full of them. I know it sounds like he was obsessed with these kind of people but that's because he was. He took pictures of them without them knowing and would show these pictures to random students and ask them why the people in the pictures were dressing the way they were and why they were that way in the first place.

Everyone pled with him to stop, but he just continued. That community that I know of from the school all had some sort of weird encounter with him. One person in particular told me that he kept trying to ask them out as he was completely convinced that they were actually a girl and that they were just trying to lie to him to get out of it instead of just not being interested. In addition to this, Matt began disrespect his teachers and refused to take any and all criticism of his work. If anything was wrong, he would simply tell them, I guess I can't do anything right. I should just quit art altogether.

And again, would just make a scene. He even began to sleep in class in front of the teachers and wouldn't care if he was caught. Matt's teachers simply allowed all of this to happen because he was autistic and therefore apparently couldn't do anything wrong. And with this, they've successfully allowed this dude's harassment and general terribleness to spread to the point that almost nobody talks to him anymore except for his teachers. Yes, my school is terrible like that and yes, I have called them out.

You can guess what was done about that. Right now, Matt has been extremely quiet and his art has taken a skydive down for the worst. I feel bad for him in the sense that his mental health took a toll, but I also don't feel bad because he did terrible things and he needs to understand that. I don't think he does, and that's only because I lost hope for him long ago. Sometimes I think about how it could have all just ended if I called him out right in the beginning. Nobody else would have been subjected to Matt's nonsense. Before I tell you this, there's a few things you should know. My ex-wife is bipolar manic depressive type 1 and an alcoholic.

I'm a bi-female, 5'5 and 115 pound. She's a lesbian, 5'6 and 165 pounds. She was abusive. We lived on the second floor of a split house and the stairs went straight down all the way. Once, she strangled me with a bath towel after one beating. She left me naked, crying and gasping for breath between pleas not to die with strained voice on the bathroom floor. Why stay through all of that, you might ask. She was a honed predator, a master manipulator. I stayed because she had me totally isolated. I stayed because I had no money to leave. I stayed for my stepson who called me mom. I stayed because I loved her. I stayed because I was scared to

leave. I woke up in the middle of the night to someone thrashing around my living room. I turned to wake my then wife, but the bed was empty. My heart dropped in my stomach. I know what that means. My ex was drunk again, stumbling around making a mess. I asked where they had been and I got a sneer. She said she went for a drive. I am very against driving intoxicated and I responded, you shouldn't drink and drive. You could have hurt someone or gotten a ticket. My ex responded by beating me until I was in front of the stairs and by then I was covered in bleeding defensive wounds with red welts and bruises forming that covered my arms, legs, chest and back. The whole time she

was saying vile and vulgar things. Once I was in front of the stairs she smiled with malice and pushed me down the stairs hard. I didn't lose consciousness and I guess I was whimpering from fear and pain because she ran down the stairs, fist bald. Fear gave me the speed. I crawled between her wide set legs up the stairs and ran up into the kitchen, desperately trying to get to the back door. I wasn't fast enough. She went out the front door and up the back steps. She was waiting for me in the kitchen.

She stared me down. I was shaking and it hurt to breathe A few broken ribs I found out later But I tried to stay calm My ex pulled a large knife from the butcher block and took a step forward, knife poised She looked at me with a nastiest look that wakes me up in cold sweat still And said in a monotone, slightly slurred and very aggressive voice, I'm having homicidal ideations. You should call somebody.

She stabbed the fridge, then the counter. Luckily, it got stuck for a moment and I sprinted to the bedroom. Normally, I can budge the dresser, but adrenaline fueled me and I barricaded the door. I heard her walking and laughing and stabbing the walls. The cops came but couldn't find my door as it was unmarked. I had to move the dresser very hard and brave the dark hall with nothing to defend myself. I sprinted down the stairs and flagged an officer down. My ex was found on the roof, knife in hand. She wrote a note and it read, I'm still going to kill her she can't take my death it's better that she suffers more this way there is more but

it's pretty pretty graphic so I'll leave it out the cops cops got her down safely. I asked for leniency due to mental illness. They were charged with threatening me with the intent to commit terror, basic assault and simple abuse but I guess that's better than attempted murder and attempting to take her own life. He came back. He's been at it again. I was home alone for two nights due to a family emergency and honestly, everything just broke out. The camera we set up broke. Something to do with the wires. Stepdad wasn't very happy about that. Also, a bit of info of where I live. My home is surrounded by forests. It's not a big area full of loads of houses. Each house is separate.

There's 11 houses in my street and this one street is surrounded by forests and you have to walk about 15 minutes to get to the corner shops and it takes about 45 to get to the town. It's a small area. There's a few streets but they're all spread out with a few houses in each one. Each street is separated by big bushes and gravel paths. So my mom and stepdad left the house on Monday at around 8 so I was left alone for the night. I was keeping myself busy by tidying up and playing on the Xbox. I noticed it was starting to rain pretty heavily so I ran out and started to take the clothes off the washing line. And as I was doing that, I noticed all the new bras that I had hung up for to dry were gone. My undies were gone too.

I panicked looking around knowing that he had came back. I got all of the clothes and locked the doors and windows. As I did this, the letterbox made a squeaky noise. I stopped dead in my tracks, knowing it had to have been him. I went over to the letterbox and found a note. The note was written in scrawly handwriting and it said, Hey G-Cup, having fun? I sure am.

I miss seeing you running. I miss watching your chest bouncing. Your bottom looked so amazing in those pink shorts last night. Can't wait to make you mine, gorgeous. I'm not going to lie. I sat and cried reading the note. I had worn velvet pink shorts the previous night and had gone outside into my garden to put the bins out, so he must have been watching me. I put the note down on the counter and ran around the house locking the windows and closing blinds and curtains. I called my stepdad and explained what had happened and what was going on, and as I was talking to him I heard a big crash outside. It sounded like a bin

had been tipped over. I peeked through the curtains in the living room and sure enough, one of our bins had been moved and placed right outside the window. I ended up calling the police and explained what had happened and they said to call back if he tried to enter the house. They said unfortunately they couldn't do much due to him not really doing anything wrong. They were also really short staffed at the time. My uncle was a cop in my local area and after I rang the cops I rang him and he said the same thing. After about an hour and a half of no activity I began to relax. I decided to order some pizza and as I waited I decided to quickly run to the corner shop and get

a smoothie, a few cooking things and some nibbles. As I went out I obviously made sure I locked the door and I brought my hunting knife that I had gotten off my cousin with me just in case. I got to the shops without an issue and got home fine. It's about a 30 to 35 minute walk there and back. I got inside the locked door and got changed and put a plain pair of shorts and a vest top on. My pizza came and I brought my pillows and blankets down and got cozy in front of the fire and watched a few films. Anywho, as I was sitting and watching them yet again, I heard the letterbox open. I paused the film and went and looked at the box only to find another note in the same handwriting and it said,

Hey baby girl, love the outfit you wore today. Dang G-Cup, I can tell you don't need bras, you really suit dark red. Hope you saved me some pizza. Bet you ordered a veggie, it's your favorite, right? With garlic sauce? Better save me some. I read the notes and felt ill. I called the police again and they said they'd send a patrol car down, which they did and after an hour the car left. I ended up falling asleep downstairs that night at around 11 and woke up at 9 the next day. The whole day went by incident free. My mom and stepdad called to check on me and my uncle dropped by and gave me 60 euros to spend since my birthday is coming up and that was about it. The real horror began later that night. I decided to sleep in my parents room since there was a big fancy TV and I knew I had decided to sleep in my parents' room since there was a big fancy TV and I knew I had to have RuPaul's Drag Race marathon on. I got some food

and drinks ready and yes, I ordered another pizza. I locked the house up, turned all the lights off, and went into my parents' room and locked the door and started my sad marathon. About two hours into watching it, I heard some weird noises downstairs in the kitchen area. I didn't pause the show, but I did silently walk to the bedroom and listen to see if I could hear anything else, and about two minutes later, I heard the creak, and it was the sound of the stairs. I tried to just brush it off as house noises, but as I finished that thought, another long creak, I started to wonder if it was something on the stairs. I stayed quiet, had my knife with me and my phone and I opened the messages app and made sure I could quickly text my uncle if things escalated. It's funny but at

the time I actually wasn't thinking of the stalker, I was actually thinking a burglar had broken in. The area I live in had experienced a few break-ins with the lockdown going on and the dudes doing it hadn't been caught. I stayed quiet again. I heard a creak. There was another noise coming from the stairs. Another creak. It was getting slightly louder which meant to me that it was getting closer and now I knew these were definitely footsteps. I texted my uncle telling him I thought someone had broken in and he texts back saying, Are you sure? It might just be house noises.

I told him I was positive. It wasn't just house noises since it repeated every two or three minutes, which I don't know about you but that to me sounds like someone trying to sneak up a flight of stairs. My uncle said to keep listening that he was on the way. I decided to turn off the TV and lights so the person didn't know which room I was in since the door had a small gap which light could be seen from. The stairs have a bend so he wouldn't have immediately seen the light and he would have to go through each room to find me. At the time, I didn't think it was a stalker. I thought it was a burglar. Stalker hadn't even crossed my mind. I was worried someone was going to steal all my stepdad's stuff. He's a tech lover and we have some expensive gym equipment. We have a tap out punch bag which someone had

tried to steal a year ago from my garden. My brothers caught them so we ended up letting him keep it in his room. I stayed quiet clutching my knife and creaking continued up the stairs. I sat thinking to myself, if they try to get into the room, am I going to have to fight? I had knife training, uncle and real dad had taught me and I knew how to fight but in that situation I just froze up. I've been in some brutal fights and I myself have been stabbed but I didn't know if I was going to be able to fight what I thought was a burglar off. I didn't even know if it was just one person at the time. I thought that there could have been more than one person here. As I waited for my uncle

to come I could hear the steps getting closer until they were at the top of the stairs. I was at the door waiting for the person to come and try to open it but they didn't. They went straight towards my room which was the very last room the furthest away from the stairs. I know this because I could hear them walking towards it. The landing had creaky floorboards near my room which is next to the bathroom. I was confused. I thought that any burglar would start with the first bedroom that they could see and work their way to the very last one. This guy didn't. He went straight to my room. I heard the person going through my things, my wardrobe and drawers. I heard what sounded like a bin bag rustling. You know, that particular rustling noise the

black bags make when you put stuff in them. That's what I could hear just kind of muffled. I heard the person ruffling through my drawers and then all the noises stopped and I heard someone sigh. It was a deep sigh. Something about it sounded familiar to me. The person then went back to rummaging around and then eventually a move from my room to the bathroom. I heard the bag rustling again for a few seconds then it stopped. It went quiet for a bit then I heard something. Heavy breathing and low moaning.

The dude was mumbling stuff and I could make a few words out. One word he said a few times was the F word. I started to panic a bit wondering what was going on and then I realized why the sigh sounded familiar. It was him. It was the stalker. And he was back in my house. I just knew it was him and then I started to connect the dots. He went to my room first because that was his true intentions in the first place. The rummaging around was him taking my clothes, my bras, panties, anything else he likes. That was why he had the bag. And then I stopped in shock and realized what he was doing, what the heavy breathing and moaning was. I felt sick. I felt so sick. He was taking my things to play with his bloody meat rod. I messaged my uncle again telling him and asking him where he was and he said he was on his way but that it was going to take about 30 minutes due to a breakdown.

I then realized that the noises had stopped. I put my phone down and moved very slowly and quietly to the far corner of the room and sat down. I couldn't hear anything, absolutely nothing. And then it happened. I know you can hear me. I know you know it's me, Jesse. He spoke so loudly and with so much authority and confidence it was so creepy. Oh god, was all I could think of. I also know something about you that no one else knows, he said. So much cockiness was dripping off of his voice, it was sickening. What is he on about, I thought to myself, and I was silently

crying at this point. I know you probably think, Jesse, what is he cracking on about? And I've been watching you a while now, babe. I know your habits so well. I know what you love and what you hate. I know everything. He said in a sort of low yell. This burned in my memory. I don't think I'll ever forget it, and the worst part, the part that made me physically sick, is the next bit. I'm getting impatient now, Jesse. I'm sick of chasing you about and you're playing hard to get. He shouted, but not super loud. He was getting close to my parents' bedroom now. I bet you're wondering why I came now, why I picked this particular time to come. Well, I'll tell you, to put it simply. I know your period's ended and I know this is around

the best time for you to get pregnant. Had I been able to see him, I bet my life he would have been smirking. The way he said it made me ill. He sounded so arrogant it was mad. I was stunned, completely stunned. I began to throw up, not due to shock but due to the fact that he was right. I know it sounds ridiculous, trust me, I do, but he was actually right. I have an app that tracks my periods and it also tells you when you're ovulating and at that time I was and it really was the best time. I felt disgusted and so violated just by his words and I wanted to know how. How did he know this? So I did something stupid. I shouted to him and asked him how he knew this and this is what he, exactly what he said to me. Jess, I'm not thick. I tell you yet I know you and I know your habits.

I know when you start. I know everything, Jesse. When you're on the rag, you always go out to the town and buy tampons and you always end up buying face masks and fruits and veggies. You're always gone to ask to do it. I told you I'd be watching you. You didn't believe me, did you? You always empty your bin out after a few periods ended as well. Since you put them in the red bin in your room,

you empty it once they've ended. I watched you do this. I kept track of you doing this, and I marked it on my phone. See? I do pay attention. I do care and love you. I'm not like the horrible pricks you've been with in the past. I pay attention. He was getting angry and he was banging on the door. I was crying out loud. Now I felt sick. I was terrified and shocked someone was sick enough in the head to do this, to go this far. I messaged my uncle telling him what the stalker said and what was happening and he said he was about 15 minutes away and to stay in the room. The stalker guy started to bang louder on the door demanding I open it saying stuff like, we're gonna make beautiful babies, little babies. I was terrified,

I had no clue what was gonna happen. I just sat and cried, asking him why me? What had I done? You ain't done anything. I just want you. He said this in such a calm and cold manner it gave me goosebumps. This was the only response I got. After that, all he said was gross things about my body. The door started to chip at the bottom as he was kicking, and at this point I was screaming and crying and begging him to go, to just leave me alone. I shouted and told him I was just 18, I didn't want kids. I said I was young and that I didn't want to go through this or have kids, that it didn't work, it only made him more excited. My uncle texted me saying he was on his way, still, but he was stuck and said that another officer was coming down, but that he'd be about 20 minutes. I was so angry and scared I was in the middle of

texting him back, asking why he was stuck and what he meant when I stopped and noticed something. Stalker had stopped pounding on the door. It had gone silent. I gathered up the courage to walk towards the door and I put my ear against it and nothing. It was silent. I waited for another minute and still no noise. I decided to unlock the bedroom door and slowly open it to see if he had gone. I opened it very slowly and I couldn't see him or hear anything so I stepped out of the room

and slowly made my way to my room. He wasn't in there but my room was a mess. He had gone through my wardrobe and drawers like I said and had taken all my bras and undies out of my drawers. I felt sick but pushed on. I walked out of my room and looked into the bathroom. The bag wasn't there that I expected to find the bag with my things in but no, it was gone. I left the bathroom and started to walk downstairs and yes, it creaked and with each creak noise I cringed and kept thinking that he was going to hear me and come running at me. He didn't though. I got down the stairs and slowly walked towards the kitchen and no one was there. I looked into the living room and to my horror he was sitting there.

On the couch. Elbows on his knees. His head down. Just sitting. I gasped quietly but it was loud enough for him to have heard and his head shut up and I could see he was staring at me. The living room curtains were open and so was the living room window that I had shut and I knew I had shut it. He looked me up and down and stood up and started to slowly walk towards me and I started backing off as he got closer. I ended up backing into a

wall like a bloody idiot and he stopped right in front of me and just stared at me. He put his hand on my cheek which is when I noticed that he was wearing gloves, leather gloves or at least I think it was leather. He looked at me then looked down at my chest. I was crying not knowing what to do. I have never felt true fear this intense before and I don't think I ever will again. His eyes in the dark no longer looked beautiful to me. They looked like black pits. His long black hair wasn't tied up like it usually was. It was flowing down past his shoulders. He wore all black like usual. He had his hood up and he was staring at me so intensely. I couldn't move.

I was so scared. I know you all probably think I'm an idiot for not shouting or screaming or attacking him. But honestly, at that moment, I was paralyzed. His hand went from my cheek down to my neck. He was tracing my neck and surprisingly gentle. He then got to my chest. He put both of his hands on them and gently squeezed. So juicy. So soft. He muttered under his breath. He ended up moving

his hands onto my hips. He was so much taller than me and I could tell that he was strong. I found my voice and said, Cops are going to be here soon. If you kill me, they'll catch you. God, I must have sounded like a terrified little kid. He looked at me, sighed and said, I wasn't going to hurt you, Jess. The only moans and screams that would come from me touching you will be when I'm shagging you babe. He took a deep breath, put his fingers under my chin, lifting my head up and continued. But if you feel that scared I guess I can wait. But don't make the wait too long, babe, cause the longer I wait, the rougher I'll be. He then let go of me, walked back towards the couch.

He picked up a black plastic bag, presumably with my stuff still in it, and he threw it out the window. The cops think that's how he got in. They think he managed to open it and climb in. And he climbed out. He took a few steps and turned back and said, I love you. And I will be back. And with that, he took off running with the bag.

He ran and I couldn't see him anymore. I stayed standing there looking out the window for what felt like forever, but it could have only been a few minutes. I shook myself out of the trance that I was in and ran to the window trying to see if I could spot him but I couldn't so I closed and locked the window and pulled my curtains back. I left my phone upstairs and decided to run back up and get it. My uncle had been texting me and trying to get in touch. I had a few missed calls from my mom and stepdad and cousin. I was in the middle of texting when I heard sirens. The cops. I was so happy I actually started to cry again and I ran downstairs.

The cops came in and a few minutes later my uncle showed up. I told them everything and they took a statement down and started to look around the house but there wasn't much physical evidence or anything that could help. The only thing they took of interest was the window in my room. My mom and stepdad came home and we went to my nana's for the night while the house was cleaned and searched. I'm back home now and the police are still investigating. The police patrol the area I live in a lot more now due to the risk of him coming back and the fact that he could potentially try and have his way with me. I'm talking to an online therapist due to what happened. I don't sleep much anymore and I don't

eat. I get flashbacks and panic attacks a lot now. My parents are looking for somewhere else to live now and we're even considering moving to a completely different area in England altogether. In 2010, I set off from Treasury Island near San Francisco at around 4pm. Great wind, swell and good ebb. There were several sailors out including a good friend and there was a pretty thick fog between Treasure Island and Angel Island. I sailed upwind a bit and ventured too far into the fog towards Angel Island. After about 30 minutes of sailing my mast and board came apart as I was landing a jump. I was left with my rig in my hands while the board popped downwind due to the momentum.

After a second shock, I left go of the rig and swam towards the board as hard as I could, but couldn't reach it as it was being pushed away by the swell and the ebb against me. I chased the board for a few more minutes until it faded away. At that point I was lost in the middle of the bay in thick fog and too far from the other windsurfers to be seen or heard. I didn't have a radio, strobe or anything useful for rescue. I started swimming towards where I thought Treasure Island was as I only had the sun as a beacon. As I swam, several boats, sails, and motors came close to me less than 100 feet. I yelled and waved like crazy, but I was just a point in the swell and no one saw me. After maybe 30 minutes of swimming,

the fog got lighter behind me revealing Angel Island. I then realized I was much closer to Angel than to Treasure Island, probably because I had sailed further than I thought and because of the ebb. I then turned around and swam towards Angel for a long time. At some point, I got a really bad cramp in my calf and I thought I was done for then. It took me a few minutes to stretch while in the water and relax the muscle enough before I could swim again. Angel was getting closer but at a slow pace and Eb was pushing me sideways. And of course there is always the thought of great white sharks that infest these waters. As boats kept passing by I waved at them just in case but each time my hope was

drained away like the little energy that was in my body. I was now less than a mile south of Angel Island, but wasn't sure if I would make it because of the current. Then, against all odds, someone on the Sausalito ferry saw me as the boat passed by. The ferry turned around, picked me up, and took me to Sausalito. After a check from the paramedics, a friendly couple gave me a ride back to my car. As a whole, I swam for about two and a half hours, although it felt much less. At the point I was rescued, I was starting to feel cold and not sure how much longer I would have been able to keep swimming, maybe an hour. Thank you. Thank you so much for saving my life.

At the time of the story, I was 14 years old. Now I'm 18 and even when I think of it, it makes me anxious. The story takes place in Bulgaria, for anyone who wants to know. It was a very hot summer night. I just got home completely exhausted and just wanted to lay on my bed and wake up two days later, but my grandma said that I needed to take a shower first. For some reason, that particular night, I felt really strange. All day, I felt really weird and couldn't enjoy the day. I was still feeling the same way. I washed myself and went straight to bed. I woke up and saw the clock

saying 2.34am. I didn't know what I woke up to. It was either that I was really thirsty or my brother snoring. I got up to get water but then, just then, my phone rang. It was my best friend, who I'll call S just for privacy reasons, and I picked up. He wanted to play games because everyone was asleep. I was ready for it but I still had that feeling. Just as I was saying to S that I was going to get water and come back straight away, I heard an insane scream. I didn't know where it came from. At first I thought it was from the game S was playing but he apparently had his PC not even on. I looked outside of my house but no one was there. I asked S if he actually heard it too and he said yes. And just as I was about to

ask him to look out of his window I heard a window breaking and a horrific scream from S and then everything went from 0 to 100 really fast. There were screams coming from S and doors slamming shut and loud thumps but suddenly everything stopped as fast as it started. There was complete silence from the other end. S just hung up. I quickly called the police and getting ready to go outside, I woke everybody in the house by screaming at the dispatcher to send officers as fast as possible. After several hours of waiting in the hospital, I finally got to see S and he looked horrible. His house was apparently destroyed. The police caught a completely insane person with a gun

pointed towards S and as far as I know, if I didn't call the cops, S and his parents wouldn't be in this world anymore. When I was around 16, my grandma passed away. She lived in Pittsburgh, PA. We always felt guilty about not being able to see her as much as we would have liked. It was an 8 hour drive. We only left Pittsburgh because my dad's job was transferred and it was an 8 hour drive away. On the day my grandma passed away, our dog randomly started looking up at the ceiling in the kitchen and started barking and whining. My dad and I both said,

Oh wow, grandma's spirit must be checking in on us. The funeral was very nice. I remember my grandma raving about a beautiful new set of crystal drinking cups and glasses that she had gotten recently. So when we stopped by her house where she had been living alone, I asked my parents if I could take the set home and they said yes. We got home and the dog was back at it, barking at the ceiling or just whining. Some days would pass and nothing. Sometimes it was annoying and happened multiple times in a day or night. Me and my dad still had this comforting thought it was my grandma though and thought it was pretty cool to be honest.

The bathroom upstairs was above our kitchen and that's where the dogs seemed to be barking at. My parents slept with their door cracked and the bathroom door open which was across the hallway with a night light in it. On several occasions my mom, who was the skeptic of the supernatural, would wake up at night. She wakes up about three times a night and is a poor sleeper while my dad would have required an air horn to wake up and sees lights flickering in the bathroom. She thought the night light was dying and we got a new one.

This is when the entire bathroom light started flickering on and off when she would wake up. Again, she figured out a rational explanation, some sort of electrical problems. I can't tell you why she didn't find it odd that she only noticed it happening at night after she woke up from her sleep, but never during the day or evening or night, even when she stayed up late. She didn't seem to care or think about it. Electrician comes and says nothing is wrong with the wiring, the house was only a couple of years old. That's what got my mom to start paying attention. So she's sleeping and wakes up and the same thing happens.

Lights are flickering in the bathroom. But she stayed awake this time and watched and waited. Then, instead of flickering on and off, the entire bathroom light just stayed on. She waited a little while and then got out of bed and the bathroom light switch was flipped on. She flipped it off and returned to bed and fell asleep. The next day she made it clear to the family to remember to turn the bathroom light off when we were done in there. Maybe she was still thinking the electrician missed something. So fast forward a few days and it's still happening but the part that had

my former skeptical mother now completely spooked was that the light switch would be down in the off position when she went to bed and turn back on in the upright position when they'd come on in the night. I got blamed a couple of times for that. She thought I was flipping the switches on purpose to freak her out but I wasn't. A few days later she could hear the light switch being flipped up and down loudly and obnoxiously, then stopping in the on position. She didn't go turn it off this time. She said it gave her a bad vibe like something wanted her to go in there, almost like a setup or trap. So we just closed the door at night and turned the light off that would inevitably be

back off in the mornings. One night I wake up crazy thirsty and go downstairs and get some water in my grandma's crystal drinking glass. The glasses had no stem or anything, just a standard cylindrical glass with a flat top. I fill it with room temperature tap water. Call me gross, but my teeth are sensitive and I don't mind drinking tap, which is relevant because what happened next could have been blamed on a swift temperature change perhaps in the glass. As I'm walking with my cup of water, room temperature and no ice, I pass underneath the bathroom and the moment I do so, the bottom of the glass falls out and waters everywhere. When I say the bottom fell out, I mean that the bottom of the cup simply separated from the cup, perfectly separated. There was no glass shards, just a hollow tube of crystal I was now holding. What now looked like a crystal coaster on the floor and of course water everywhere. I cleaned it up and went to bed with another cup of water in one of our stupid plastic drinking cups and yes, the upstairs bathroom door was closed and I could see the light framing the doorway.

Those glasses meant a lot to me because they were hers, they belonged to her, so why would she do this? And I almost cried. She told me that she wanted me to have them when she passed away, so I know she wouldn't have been mad that I took them home. The barking and whining, the light flickering, a light that had been turned off then double checked just turning back on, the loudest persistent sound of the switch going up and down, the fact that these glasses were causing anxiety to my mom and making her already poor sleep even worse and ruining my crystal glass. There were no more events after

the incident with the cup. I moved out a few years later but stayed there for 10 plus more before moving out without any other events. Why did this stop with just the broken glass? Who or what decided to take temporary residence in our bathroom when my grandma died? Because that wasn't my grandma. When I was 17, my friends and I found this spot a little bit out of town where you follow this long dirt road down to the train tracks out in the middle of nowhere. We drive down there to hang out, smoke, and watch the occasional country train go past. One night I was out there with a buddy and we were sitting on the bonnet chatting. We noticed a set of headlights coming down the dirt road.

Naturally, we were a little freaked out because it was a pretty remote spot and it's the middle of nowhere. We figured it's some kind of like-minded people, but that once they see us, that they would most likely turn around and go somewhere else. And they get to about a hundred yards away and they stop. We're able to make out that it's a big truck and think it might be a council ranger. They stop there for a few seconds before they turn on a bright spotlight on the roof and begin to slowly drive towards us. This scared me because the only people I know with spotlights on their trucks are hunters. My friend obviously felt the same because he told me to get in the car. There's only one road out from this spot so we were pretty uneasy about driving past this

person to get out but we felt like we needed to leave. As we approached the car we tried to see through the windows but they were so heavily tinted that it was impossible. We looked for the council logo but it was unmarked. We'd driven maybe 200 yards past them and I'd look in my mirrors to see that they're turning around and start following us. I sped up to gain a comfortable distance from them and when we hit the outskirts of town I drove down a random residential street and parked between two cars. I turned off my car and headlights and we sat and waited.

We saw the truck drive past the top end of the street where we had entered, but I felt like I should wait a little while longer before leaving. Eventually, we see them drive past the bottom end, the streets are a grid design, and then the top end again. This happened a couple more times and we realized that they were looking for us. My blood ran cold when I saw them enter the street that we were on from the bottom end. We both climbed into the back of the car and crouched down into the footwell. I grabbed a bag and a couple of jumpers from the seat and pulled them over us to conceal us. I could see the headlights of the truck moving slowly past the car and all I could hear was my blood pumping in my ears. Thankfully they kept driving and turned off the street. We jumped into the

front seats and drove in the opposite direction and we were on high alert, gunning for the highway and hoping we wouldn't run into them. I have no idea who they were or why they were following us but I'm so glad that we left the train tracks when we did and we never went back. I'm a 14 year old female currently but this event occurred at my grandmother's house during my 6th or 7th birthday. Before my grandmother passed I would always have my birthday parties at her house and we would invite the whole family and all the neighbors and their kids. Needless to say, the parties were always very large. There was this one neighbor girl who we'll call Katie. Katie was several years older than me, but we were friends and I always felt Cole hanging around her. On the day of the birthday party, Kate and I were playing together at my grandmother's house and Kate took me outside.

Oddly enough, there was no one around in the backyard despite the party being very large. My grandma had an above ground pool with a deck built around it. It was very hard to see if anyone was up there or in the pool from the ground. Kate brought me to the pool and I remember the water was swirling around in a circle. Kate told me that we were going to play a game where we would take off our crocs and put them in the swirling water and pick them up when they came back around. Kate did it first and picked her shoe out of the water when it came back around. She told me it was my turn. I put my shoe in the water and waited.

It was coming back so I leaned in to get it but it was barely out of reach. I leaned in further to grab it and I fell in to get it but it was barely out of reach. I leaned in further to grab it and I fell in. Shocked, I managed to get my head above the water and looked at Kate and screamed for help. I couldn't touch the bottom of the pool and I was not a very strong swimmer and the currents of the pool were keeping me from getting to the edge. Kate stood up and looked at me for a couple of seconds. Then she turned around and walked away. I was terrified. I thought maybe she was going to get help. I splashed and weakly cried for help, help, help, but nobody was in the backyard. I don't know how long I was trying to tread water for, but I was struggling and swallowing a lot of water and kept slipping under. Suddenly I saw my grandma standing on the deck and she jumped in with all of her clothes on

and saved me. I'm so very thankful for her getting there on time. If she hadn't come a little later, I seriously believe that I could have drowned. But the story doesn't end here. Years later I brought the story up to my grandma and she told me something that I hadn't known. When my grandma had noticed I wasn't with any of the other kids she asked Kate where I was after she came inside. Kate just stared at her with a blank expression and didn't answer and just walked away. My grandma then said she went outside to look for me and barely heard me calling for help I am truly thankful for that woman May she rest in peace

For a bit of reference, I was fairly sheltered I often thought that I was this tough kid when I was the furthest thing from it. I, 13 at the time, met this guy, apparently 17, online on a teen site. We ended up talking on MSN for ages, video chatting as well. I was really reckless and kind of a terrible teenager. My then friend and I took $50 from my mom's wallet and went from our town over to a city on a ferry. Then we bussed and met up with the said guy. He didn't look older than 19. We all hung out and went to this mall. He told us to say that if we run into anyone he knows to say we were his cousins, which was fine.

It was back when it was still weird to meet up with people online back in 2007. He got my nails done, which as a teen I was so excited for then and some clothes from my friend along with some illicit toys which now that I look back at I don't know how I didn't clue in that anything bad was going to happen. We left and sat in his car in the parking lot. My friend had left to go change into the shirt that he had bought her and this guy leaned over and kissed me. I froze. This was my first kiss. In shock, I just kind of let it happen.

I was such a shy person and no guy had ever done this to me as I was unattractive and overweight, constantly bullied so at the time I didn't ever think it was going to happen. She came back and we went for a drive. During it, he repeatedly referenced taking us and bringing us to a pig farm like Robert Pickton, a serial killer who would feed his victims to pigs, almost as if he was joking. So we took it like that, but thinking back, he had a serious look on his face and monotone. My friend and I started talking and he got mad and snapped on us for seemingly nothing at that while we were driving around in these very secluded areas. He finally brought us to a pretty deserted park. We got out and hung around the skate park part of the place.

He got pretty handsy. My friend and me kept distancing more as he kind of was creeping us out more now. We finally get to the car and he locked the doors. We were just all hanging around and he kept making weird and creepy comments about us staying and we were so far away from home that no one knew where we were, which was true, and that we could just go missing and no one would ever know. Around that time I started to feel really off about him. My friend and I needed to go back to the ferry so we wouldn't miss the next one and currently we were like 40-50 minutes away from the ferry by car. He had told us he would bring us there, which was great for us, however he clearly

did not have that planned. A little bit into sitting there and talking and whatnot, he took out the illicit toy that I had mentioned earlier, opened it, and showed it to my friend. She freaked out, and he laughed and brought it back to the front. He then proceeded to unzip his pants and have his way with himself directly in front of us, taking my hand and making me do it. I was in such shock that I literally froze in fear that that was the tipping point and I honestly was terrified for my life. He had shown that he was truly unstable. He had made me do that as well as inappropriately touching me

and I freaked out and tried opening the door. He got mad and tried to grab me by the wrist while I was screaming to be let out. He told us he wasn't letting us out and I was finally able to get the door unlocked and ran out to the park, hyperventilated and my mind was racing a million miles an hour. My friend, thank god, was able to unlock her door and get out too. For reference, this park has wooded areas around it and is just beside the Coquitlam River. So we ran into the wooded area down this embankment going through until we saw the river. We were going to cross it but the current seemed too strong and it looked cold so we decided to try and leave before he found us. Meanwhile, this guy kept calling and calling, like not letting down whatsoever.

We finally went to go back and we had to climb back up this embankment. I boosted my friend over it, as it was a bit annoying to get up, and she ran off to a family that was there picnicking. It took me longer to get up. Like I said, it was annoying to get up and it was a bit slippery. And when I did, he was running to get up and it was a bit slippery. And when I did, he was running towards me as he was looking for us and apparently I came out at the right time. I ran towards my friend and that family. I fell almost immediately when I got to them.

I never cried so hard in my life as I did that night. We went to the hospital. They contacted our parents from there and man were they happy. Then to the police station and slept in the hallway of an office on the floor. It was a long and exhausting night finally when the time came for court we saw him again. He had a look of pure hatred in his eyes. It turns out he was 33, almost 34, married. They also found some pretty screwed up stuff on his computer. Stuff to do with abductions and minors. He said that we were trying to blackmail him.

That if he didn't buy us booze and smokes that we were going to call the police. Even though they had found traces of his DNA on my jacket and hand, his lawyer got him off with three months in jail. I believe my friend said he gets weekends out, but I don't recall if he did or not. I had to leave after my statement and questioning as we had to go drop my dad off at an event, so I wasn't there for sentencing. They said we were really lucky to get away. Given how unstable and all the signs were, according to the police, they thought that he may have had other plans. They couldn't pin him with anything other than sort of the statutory on a minor. Three months though. Blew me away. He was not allowed to have a computer, go anywhere that children are, schools, parks, malls, etc. and that's pretty much it. My sister's friend added his email and shocker

after it all, he added her and she pretended to be underage and he acted the exact same way. So he didn't change. So next time you meet someone in person, make sure you stay safe because you never truly know who you're meeting. And if you're reading this James, I hope the retribution that you deserve finally comes your way. Thanks for listening. Be sure to subscribe and click that notification bell to be alerted of all future narrations. If you got a story, be sure to submit them to my subreddit, rLetsReadOfficial, and give and receive feedback from the community, and maybe even hear your story featured on the next video.

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And remember, I only wrestle anime girls.