The Lets Read Podcast - 11: Episode 011 | Babysitting & Haunted Church Stories | 28 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: November 11, 2018

Welcome to the eleventh 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 Babysitters, Haunted Catholic Churches, & Car Jackings. 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: Iron Cthulhu Apocalypse https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFvrqVSJE8E PATREON for EARLY ACCESS!►http://patreon.com/LetsRead

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Until May 31st, save up to $100 in rebates on select Toyo tires. Like Toyo's open country family of tires. Find your pro at your local Tread Experts. From tires to auto repair, we're always there. Tread Experts.ca I'm 24, female, and this happened at my old job. My mom decided that I needed a job, one that wouldn't cause much stress, interfere with school, and could keep me out of trouble on the weekends, so I elected to babysit for neighbors, cousins, and could keep me out of trouble on the weekends so I elected

to babysit for neighbors, cousins, and other families around my neighborhood. I was 17. I had a good time with friends and it was the easiest way to make money. Seeing the kids face light up when they would see me made the job that much more enjoyable but the last group of kids I babysat were weird. I would watch them 4 days a week. I would help them with their homework and make sure that they were fed and asleep by 7 o'clock at night. Things were great for the first few months but I began to feel like they were imagining things or something which is when things got weirder.

Marissa was the oldest, she was 8, Larry was the middle child, he was six, and Alexis was the baby, she was three. I can recall one particular night when I was swamped with homework. The kids were watching TV in the living room while I was sitting at the kitchen table. Math wasn't the easiest subject for me so it took more time to concentrate on, being too focused on something else while babysitting isn't a good thing. A while had passed until I realized that the house was strangely quiet. I looked up from the table to see the kids sitting on the kitchen floor, looking up at me with those sweet eyes. What are you doing? I asked. Waiting to go home? Marissa smiled. You're already home, silly. No, we live with you, she said.

I'm only the babysitter, sweetie. I watch over you when mom and dad need a night for themselves. I laughed. But Jackson said that you were our mom. You gave us these new parents because you had to. Who is Jackson? I questioned. The man in my closet, she responded. How long has that man been in your closet? I don't know, she shrugged. But he says that you're pretty and kind. You have quite the imagination, Marissa, I chuckled. A sinking feeling of dread settled over me when I heard the floorboards of her head creaking because of something walking around.

The heavy footsteps frightened Larry and Alexis. They tightly hugged my legs while Marissa looked at the ceiling. Jackson's here, she clapped. I never jumped out of my chair faster than I had at that moment. I scooped the kids up in my arms and rushed them to the front porch. I need you to go to Mr. Hughes's house and get help. But we want to stay here with you, she pouted. Just go, I pushed her. They didn't really understand why I was being so frantic but Marissa nodded before grabbing her brother and sister's hand. I watched them run off the porch and across the yard before I stepped inside the house to face whatever it was inside the child's bedroom. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen sink, slowly crept up the stairs and stood outside of Marissa's room.

I gently pressed my ear against the door. Muffled noises met my line of hearing which caused me to swing the door open. Marissa's window was open. The cool breeze drifting into the room caused alarm bells to go off. I know for a fact the window was closed prior to putting those kids in front of the TV. The dresser drawers were open, clothes strewn across the floor and toys scattered on the bed. It was at that moment, as I was reaching for the protruding light switch, that I asked myself why I didn't just call the police. I suppose it was just instinct to defend the children. I flick the light on to see the man sitting in the closet, his back against the wall, his belt undone and a toothless grin greeting me. You're even prettier in person, he wheezed. My chest felt like it was tightening.

I struggled to take a breath but the sound of sirens filled me with relief. The man jumped up from the floor, knocked me into the wall and ran out the room. I sank to the floor and let the tears go. The kids made it to the neighbor's house and banged on the door until Mr. Hughes answered it. He was alarmed when he saw the bedroom light illuminate the backyard so he called 911. Mrs. Hughes sat in the dining room with Marissa, Larry and Alexis until the police arrived. The man hiding in the closet had apparently been living in there for a few weeks. He was in his 40s, strung out on something and homeless. I don't know what happened to him, but that ended my babysitting career

permanently. My advice to anyone who might babysit in the future, please check the house before you get too comfortable. You never know what is going to happen. As any parent can tell you, leaving your children home with a babysitter is one of the hardest things you can do. Fortunately for my husband and I, we really have an amazing babysitter. She watches our kids whenever we need her. It can be for 20 minutes because we are late getting home from work or for an entire weekend. It's all worth noting that my husband and I travel sometimes for our job. Our babysitter only lives next door and I've known her since she was born. She's a very sweet 18 year old girl who will be starting at university and pre-med in the fall.

She finished toward the top of her class and plans on becoming an orthopedic surgeon. Needless to say, I trust her with my two children who are 6 and 4 years old respectively. Like many Saturday nights, my husband and I had a work function to go to and like many times before we called our trusty babysitter and she of course accepted and was happy to help. We left at about 7 30 and as we pulled out of the driveway I noticed that the garage door was slightly ajar. Now my husband is the super anal type and never leaves doors half open like that. He also has all of his tools and whatnot in that garage so I knew he wouldn't just leave it open like that.

But I thought, eh whatever, the wind probably pushed it open. As the night went on I began to feel more and more uneasy and I couldn't quite explain it. I decided I needed to check on my children. It was summertime and the sun was just starting to set at about 8.45ish. I got hold of the babysitter after only one or two rings. She said they just finished some hot dogs and were going to be settling down and watching a movie for the night. I admit this gave me some comfort, but I still couldn't quite shake this feeling that something wasn't right. I called back a minute later and asked if she could check on the side window and tell me if the garage door was shut. She told me it was. I double checked and

asked if it was shut or just mostly shut and she said no it's definitely shut. As we hung up the phone I didn't feel right at all. In fact I felt sick to my stomach. I begged my husband to go home. He complied with little convincing. I could tell he was slightly annoyed but he would do anything for me. I called back a third time in the car and for the first time in years of watching my kids she didn't answer. I called right back and she didn't answer again. As we approached the house my heart fell into my stomach. I noticed that the side garage door was now wide open. As my husband turned into the driveway, my uneasiness turned into absolute terror. There was a man trying to climb into the kitchen window. He turned and in a scruffy beard and a hood. His teeth were yellow and his eyes bloodshot and had not one but two knives hanging out of his back pocket. I was frozen in fear. My husband wasted no time and got out of the car and chased him down. He caught the man and held him down. My husband is a big man and this man was somewhat skinny.

I called the police and they arrived in minutes. I went inside to find my babysitter in the basement with my children. She had candles lit and weird relic-like symbols all around. When she saw me, she just started to chant and laugh. The cops were called and thankfully arrived quickly, eventually arresting her and the man. Thankfully, my children were safe and unharmed. What the cops told me after the situation still gives me a sickening feeling. Apparently my younger babysitter met this man at the end of the school year. Apparently they had joined a Scientology group

together. They started using together and experimenting with various rituals. The documents later recovered with the ritualistic items included text stating two sacrifices were required. They were going to sacrifice my own children. They also told me that this man was probably living in my garage for about a week or so given the food and urine they found stored in the crawl space in the garage. I've since done everything possible to pursue charges to the furthest extent of the law. We have also moved to my mother's house until we can find another area and house to live in. It just goes to show you that you ago during my first year of college.

Just to give a little bit of reference, I am a 20 year old female, barely over 5 foot tall, very thin and guys objectively find me attractive. I tell you this because working in customer service I am used to a mild flirting and attention from male customers. It has never really bothered me much before because up until this point I hadn't experienced anything creepy or abnormal. Coming from a large low income family I have always been a hard worker and someone who is constantly looking for ways to make more money. During my first semester I found a job at a local coffee shop which worked out perfectly. It was right up my alley, they were super flexible with my hours and it was located near the college so I got to meet a lot of new people that I went to school with. After about a month or so I started to notice the regular customers and even could remember some of their

orders. Among some of the regulars was a really handsome businessman who always wore a suit and tie every time I saw him. I thought maybe he was a professor but I couldn't remember ever seeing him on campus. He was tall, maybe 6 foot 1 or so. He was very muscular, tan and had slick black hair. I always waited on him and he always flashed a smile and was very polite saying thank you honey or sweetie and leave the store sometimes leaving a sizable tip in the tip jar. He started to come in more regularly and actually came in every day for about two weeks and then he finally spoke to me and I mean actually spoke to me outside of just ordering coffee. He made some harmless joke and maybe a flirtatious

comment I don't really remember exactly but he asked if I would perhaps be interested in babysitting his daughter this weekend. I really didn't know what to say as it was kind of out of the blue and he didn't even know me. He sensed my hesitation and said he didn't mean to make me feel uncomfortable but his regular sitter cancelled at the last minute and he had luck finding students at local businesses in the past, I guess because it was a smaller college town. Being a little naive and very eager to make some extra money, I accepted the offer and told him I would be willing to do so. I was always the type of person who always sees the best in people and never really focused on

the negative, which in retrospect was not very smart. My logic was that this person was a very handsome man who looked well put together and appeared to have everything together, which is more than I can say about 95% of the people I meet there, so nothing to worry about, right? So because I wanted some details and additional information, I asked for his address and if he could show me a picture of his daughter. I was unfamiliar with his address and he said he didn't have any photos of his daughter on his phone, which seemed a little weird, but I didn't think much of it. He took out his wallet and showed me a very old looking photo of a young girl and then proceeded to show me two more photos of her from his wallet. He isn't in any of the photos, but at the time, I really didn't seem to notice that.

So him and I exchanged numbers and agreed on a time, pay, and all the other details. Later in the day, we started exchanging more details via text. He wanted me to come over at 8pm, which seemed to be a little late, but then I thought, whatever whatever the kid will probably be asleep and I can just watch Netflix or something until they get home. Easy much needed money for me I thought. Saturday came and I texted him to confirm the time. He responded and okayed everything but was being very flirtatious sending a bunch of emojis and things like that. I brushed it off and ignored it for the most part. I told my boyfriend

the address of where I was going to and let him know that I would call him if I needed anything. My boyfriend is the rational one in the relationship and he was not very keen on this idea in the first place. He tried to talk me out of it but I really needed the extra cash. Now this is where things start to take a turn. I pull up to the address and notice there really isn't very many houses around the area. In fact, the houses that were around look like they were not very well taken care of. The man's house was very low lit and very run down, with tall grass and weeds in the front yard. I remember thinking of the nice clothes slash watch that he wears wears and the house just did not

match the guy. While not trying to judge a book by its cover I reluctantly went up and knocked on the door. The man answered the door in sweatpants definitely not seeming to be ready to go out. The house was very dark and uninviting. As I walked inside I could feel the darkness swallow me. I looked around and all I could see and smell was filth and trash. This house was unlivable especially for a child. I turned around freaking out and immediately before he could even say anything and asked, where's your daughter? The man said that his wife and daughter will be home any minute. Now I'm a very observant person and I waited on this man every day and never once saw

a ring on his finger. At this point is where full alarm bells are going off. Trying to remain calm and slowly move toward the door the man insists that I go see the amazing playroom they built in the basement. I will never forget the look in his eyes at this point. His eyes were deranged and he had a sinister smile. The handsome man I waited on every day slowly evaporated away and I was now standing face to face with an apparent psychopath, one who wanted me to see his special basement. I didn't even think and what happened next I still can't even believe I did. I sprayed the man right in the face with pepper spray and

ran out the door and got into my car. Being a small female college student, naturally I always had pepper spray in my purse. Once in my car I began to process everything that just happened. I started to shake and tremble and felt like I couldn't move. What happened next still sends chills down my spine. As I looked up through my rear view window, I saw the man full on sprint out of his front door and get into his car. I peeled off so fast and drove straight to my boyfriend's house. Being the stupid teenager that I was, I never once called 911. I did text the man that night and told him I called the cops and would call them again if I ever saw or heard from him again. He responded with LOL in all caps. Barely being able to sleep at all that night, I finally managed

to fall asleep at around 3 or 4am after being consoled by my boyfriend. I woke up at about 9am to a message that still haunts me to this day. Looks like I'll have to find another babysitter with two winking emojis. I finally called the cops because I was petrified this guy would try and find me again. The police were able to track the number and actually found the phone. It was found in a dumpster near my boyfriend's house but they were unable to pursue any further as he didn't really commit any crimes or commit any acts of stalking. My boyfriend did some research on the address of the home and it was repossessed by the bank three years prior. All I can think about is the playroom and what could have been down there waiting for me.

I let my manager at work know about this so he could try and get his face on the security camera the next time he came in but thankfully he never again came to that coffee shop. I've since moved home and transferred schools. This night changed my life. I went from a naive, innocent little girl to someone who became aware of the true monsters that exist in this world. Who knows if he is still out there trying to take advantage of a young woman like me. Around the age of 18 my dad's boss had a kid with his wife. These people had it in their heads that the responsibilities of children wasn't enough

to hinder their rights to party and because my dad was completely subordinate to this guy, he offered me up as a babysitter to help solidify the possibility of getting a raise at the start of the new fiscal quarter next year. He told me it was good for all of us, seeing as mom was a stay-at-home and dad was the only breadwinner in the tribe. I remember him telling me it was my turn to step up to the plate. Sure it sucked because these gigs went down on Fridays and Saturdays from 6pm going on to what was occasionally 6 in the morning but at the same time the gig was an easy one. The trick was to just put the poor kid to bed then just wait it out. These were opportune moments to get some homework done or study for exams or whatever

other justification there was that seemed necessary to remind myself that I was sitting in this stranger's house while they were doing what someone at my age should have been doing. The unfairness only stung for a short period of time but hey, my dad needed the raise I thought. The gig played out the same way every weekend. My dad's boss and his wife dressed up and went to the clubs or whatever, and I was left on my own devices. The place was pretty nice, all things considered. They even had a 60-something inch TV that had HBO, which was cool for catching up with Game of Thrones or what have you, but truthfully, I just sat on the couch and flipped through textbooks and fought the urge to pass out. Once the baby's down for the night, that's basically that.

At first, I thought it would just be for a few weeks, but eventually it became months. Every weekend, without fail, I was sent to the O'Brien estate to take care of their infant daughter. There were a few times where I refused, that I had plans that I intended to make good on and my dad was fine with it, at least up until he made the call to his boss. One terrible time later I was right back on the couch staring at a clock, feeling my youth get siphoned out of me by total strangers. Praise the lord for responsible adults, right? It's just completely mind blowing how his boss somehow became my boss too, and all the while he shared nothing with me,

saying he'd compensate my dad who in turn would pay me, but of course he never did. Hey dad, you get that raise yet? I'd ask each day. By the first week it was a real question with a strong hope for a positive answer, but eventually it devolved into sarcasm until finally plummeting into malice. When the answer is always the same, you just know that you're blowing hot air. He doesn't know how good he has it, I would retort every time to his justifications. I'm no genius by any stretch, but at least there is enough on the plate here to deduce that this was pure manipulation on his boss's behalf.

And my dad being the essential breadwinner, there was no room for negotiation. He was caught, hook, line, and sinker, and now he can't seem to get out of it. I recall telling him to contact HR, but every time I'm met with a simple, it's complicated remark. His expression as sullen as a morning fog. Obviously, there was something else at stake here, some form of leverage that leaves my dad reeling across that thin line. For lack of a better word, the reason was political. He worked extremely long hours ranging from 14 to 20 hours a day. Occasionally, he became a ghost for a week, rare sightings at two in the morning as I

go to the bathroom for whatever reason that night. By the eighth week he looked less like my dad and more like a hunk of beef jerky. The job was taking its toll and yet no raise. And there I am, every weekend sitting on the culprit's couch, doing a better job at taking care of their baby than they ever could, silently growing angry at the care of their baby than they ever could, silently growing angry at the sight of their interior. The furnishing matched the expectation of a BP's salary and yet all he did for his living was a fraction of what he made my dad do. All this lavish living and yet my dad, in spite of all these things, was just barely scraping by. It was around 11.30 on the dot that the knock came. I remember looking at that clock and wondered if this was some kind of delivery.

It's one thing to find yourself in a circumstance you have little to no bearing in, that immediate sense of responsibility, knowing that all you do is fumble it for a lack of knowing just about anything. All this in mind, I answered the door by opening it just a crack. It was a businessman of sorts. White shirt with khakis, held up suspenders, all adorned by a blue and red striped tie. His hair was grey, his wrinkles deep, and yet I could tell he was only in his thirties. He reminded me so much of my dad I almost thought it was him. But it was in the

eyes that gave it away. They were wide and round crazed and bright whereas my dad's were sunken and dark. Can I help you? I asked with little to no confidence. There was just something about that look in his eyes. Was it desperation or fear? Mr. O'Brien? He's not here right now. Probably won't be back until late. The man winced back as if the words hurt him. Those eyes of his, already huge, somehow got bigger. And who are you?

He asked. I'm just the babysitter. The man reached into his pocket and let his hand rest. I could see the impression. It was as clear as day, as clear as fresh water. He put his hand on a gun. I felt my heart rise into my throat. Can you call him? I need to speak with him.

Yeah, sure, just stay right there. I quickly moved to shut the door when the man swiftly lunged his thin hand against the frame to stop it. I let out a gasp and felt my body turn into jelly in an instance and every part of me becoming utterly unstable. I wanted to tell him mean things, to demand him to leave, that he was horrifying, that I wish I never found myself being inducted into this terrible situation. That this was a feud between my dad and my boss and I was nothing more than a prop. That I had nothing to do with whatever was going on between him and me, O'Brien, and yet the only thing I could articulate was... Huh? It's true.

You can be a hero in your mind, but the reality of it is that when things get real, most people just shut down. He must have seen it all. He let out an assuring grin and led his hand off the frame. I'm sorry, miss. I didn't mean to scare you. It's fine. I'll wait out here. He took a step back, his other hand never leaving his pocket and never leaving the gun.

But please be quick about it. I'm in a hurry, you know. I closed the door and put my fingers in my mouth. It took everything in me not to scream. I was frantic at this point, recalling that my dad's boss left a number for his cell somewhere, but for the life of me I couldn't remember where. Was it reasonable to call it? Wouldn't it be safer to just call 911? I pulled out my cell phone and called my dad instead. Frantic and in tears, my whirlwind of emotions were streaming into the phone before he could even finish saying hello. How far into the explanation could I have gone? It couldn't have been that far because as soon as I started talking,

the door was smashed open and the businessman bolted straight into the house. I saw that he was holding a revolver. He took one look at me and put one finger over his mouth and shushed me. You can walk away from this, he said. This is between me and Mr. O'Brien. I replied by screaming louder than I thought I ever could. The man threw his hands into the air and let out a groan of frustration and ran up the stairway opposite to the door he just kicked down. Up the stairs where the baby was. I sat on the floor for a minute, hyperventilating and practically sobbing. The phone on the floor still open with dad on the other end. But he went upstairs

to where the baby was. He went upstairs with a gun. I immediately heard a door upstairs smash open followed by loud cries of O'Brien's baby. We can all be heroes in our minds, but when things get real, how real was this? Without thinking, I ran into the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife I could find and without comprehending what I had chosen to do, I ran into the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife I could find, and without comprehending what I had chosen to do, I was face to face with the businessman in the baby's room. He was sitting in an armchair next to the crib. The baby was sitting on his knee with one thin arm wrapped around her wrist.

The man had a calm look on his face, like the anticipation of what he wanted to do was superseded by the immediacy of his own act. In his expression, it was clear that in his mind this was it, the moment that changed everything. In his other hand, he held the six-shooter directly to the baby's head. You can still walk away, he said. No. The words came out like water from a bursting tank, swift, concisely, and with it, the relief of the pressure I was feeling through this whole ordeal. In its place was just a heightened sense of the situation. The room was quiet. The baby stopped

crying and was instead just grunting and moaning, its bald head and beady round eyes darting in every which way. How did you end up babysitting for the O'Briens? He asked. Just let the baby go, I demanded. You look tired, you know. That's just the thing when it comes to people who work for Mr. O'Brien though. I'll just assume you're the daughter of one of his workers, huh? Just let the baby go. What's your name? No. Okay then. It's okay. I can imagine that you're a bit on the younger side. It's okay to feel the way you do. A baby's life hanging by the pull of a trigger.

That's a good thing, kid. A very good thing. The clarity of it fell on me like a bag of cinder blocks. Of course it did. This idiot is a talker. He's got a lot on his mind. If I could keep him talking, maybe he'd have a crisis of conscience. He had a thing against O'Brien. Maybe we could meet in the middle on that. He's my dad's boss. Of course he is. And like everyone else he's destroyed, he's got your dad running ragged, reaching through him to make those he loves run themselves ragged as well.

In your case, babysitting. Let me guess, you don't have a say anymore, do you? You feel like your life is losing its value and yet your dad would lose his chance if you backed out. I have seen him do this to so many people before him. This is what he does. This is what he does. He destroys lives for his own gain. He's a monster. Yes, I said assuredly, as I wasn't lying at all, even though it felt like I was. He's a horrible person. You should see what he does to my dad.

The hours he works, he's using him. The way he's using you, I... I assume... Yes. he's using them. The way he's using you, I... I assume... Yes. He's used me. I worked first, second, third shift for him. Coast to coast on the clock. We weren't underpaid, not exactly, but we weren't exactly receiving a livable wage.

He gave us the hours, but he stiffed us on OT. He didn't give us raises, but he always kept it just out of reach. Just far enough to keep us moving forward, like a carrot on a stick. He had a way about him, you know. Silver tongue or whatever. Always promised us the future, if only we held on for a little bit longer. But every chance he had, he stiffed us. We gave him the benefit of the doubt, you know? I think I know what you mean, I said. Like a fool, I took a step into the room.

In response, he pressed the gun against the temple of the baby, causing her to cry again. At point-blank range, this thing would turn your head into pudding. At the range you're standing, you'd be dead before you ever heard the bang. Understand? I'm sorry. I took a step back. He immediately eased up on the weapon and removed the steel from the baby's head. The cries of the baby seemed louder than what I'd imagined the ending of the world to sound. It does make me feel something for a change, though,

he said, as if the urgency of his own threat didn't even take place. You feel something for this human being. Maybe you bonded with her during all that time you spent babysitting. Maybe you didn't. But a human life is precious to you. It was to me, you know. But to O'Brien? Just a stat in a book.

Quantifiable. Like a notch in the day trade. A variable in a trend. A sign of when to invest, when to sell. That's what we were to him, you know. Stock. That's all we were. I gave him my life, and all I asked asked for in return was the right to live.

I was weak. Maybe that's how he caught so many people in his employ. Weak people, desperate to find their life. The long hours, my baby on the way. The dream was coming true for me and the wage increase. All I needed to do in exchange was a few favors here and there. Balance the books, work the numbers, things outside of the company. The favor I was gaining in this economy, it meant something. Why didn't you just quit? Anyone could quit at any time. You think I didn't look for a place? You think I didn't try? This is what he did. He used people. He knew they wanted out and gave just enough

to compete with what little was available and used the rest to spend us like dogs. But anything is better than what you describe. Security at a Torzai Rust sounds better than this. You tell your dad that. You tell him for me. You tell him that O'Brien is spending him like a bag of weed, smoking him up until he's nothing more than resin. Do you know what happens to me during these long hours? My wife left me.

She took the baby, and she left. Do you know what happened then? Head on collision off 55. The night was rainy and she was tired and stressed. Stressed because she thought I didn't love her. Enough was enough for her. She had to give Cody a life that didn't involve neglect. She had an affair, you know, with that guy who did her taxes of all people.

It's... if I was there, I could have seen it, you know with that guy who did her taxes of all people it's if I was there I could have seen it you know the writing was on the wall but I wasn't I wasn't there I was so busy trying to make the best from what I held dear that I pushed it away and for what this sociopath who uses people like rolls of toilet paper this guy who doesn't care about anything and what he has. He doesn't appreciate the life he received. He doesn't deserve it. He pressed the barrel against the baby's head again.

A deep breath to calm my nerves because this was the moment this man was anticipating. One wrong move would have been the end of this life. Killing her won't bring them back, and if this man really is the sociopath you make him out to be, I put the knife on the floor to further emphasize my point, and I believe you that he is. I hear that workplaces filled with people like this, I do, and I know you've been through the ringer, but all this said, what is this life worth to him? He'll know. After the fact, he will know. But will he? Or will he see this as another way of using people? Believe me, I don't want to be here

babysitting my life away and he's using me through my dad. When I saw you, I thought you were my dad. The way you've been run into the dirt, it's like you're a sign of what's to come. Even when he isn't using you, he's still using you. You said it yourself, the man doesn't value anything. Maybe not even this kid. Maybe he wants you to do this. It'll free him up to party. The man threw his head back and let out a loud laugh. Maybe it'll free you from this gig you've been forced into. Ever think of

that? But you said it yourself. I value this child's life. The words must have held some kind of effect because after I said them, the man stared into space for a moment. Those bright eyes, seemingly seeing something outside of reality. The thoughts were pouring into his head. And that's when our intimate conversation was abruptly interrupted by men screaming downstairs at the doorway that had been kicked open. This is the police. We have cause to believe that there was a man with a gun in this house, they screamed. The man's eyes focused into reality once more, and my heart, I swear to God, my heart stopped. It was a moment that could have stretched into eternity.

Time just froze. That look on his face, tired, old before his old age, staring into space. You could almost see the wheels in his head turn as he came to the conclusion he had come to on what he had to do. Please, please don't. The man looked at me. Downstairs, the cops had begun their sweep of the first floor. We could hear more coming upstairs, seconds away, seconds too long. Listen, he said.

As he slowly stood up, baby tucked in his arm, he moved towards me. Kid, you have my gratitude. I almost made a terrible mistake. Somewhere down the line this kid will destroy this man, or so I hope. He put the baby in my arms, which I gladly took. I'm sorry you got dragged into this, he said and then he put the barrel of his revolver into his mouth and pulled the trigger. The rest of this was a series of high adrenaline fueled sequences of shuffled variations of lucidity. There wasn't much to remember aside from the cries of the baby.

I remember my dad holding me in what was hours later but what felt like the very next blink of an eye. I remember Mr. O'Brien coming home, walking up to me in a fury and firing me and my dad on the spot. I remember spending the night in the hospital and I remember during the police debriefing that it being mentioned it took a long time to get the baby from my arms, but also I left the phone on when the event took place, leaving my dad aware that something was going on, and from there, he was the one who called the authorities. That was around 8 years ago. My dad looks better now, almost a decade later. He looks better than he ever did when he worked for Mr. O'Brien, who, based on what I hear, is still going strong, still playing his games, still playing with the lives of his workers, but I hear his baby was fine regardless, and I suppose that's all that matters to me. While I can't say I feel sorry for the man who held his gun to the head of a baby to prove a point,

I do appreciate what he said. That maybe, just maybe, this baby would grow up and see him for the monster he is, and somehow destroy him in some way, shape, or form. It's hard to say for sure what will happen. Life is pretty unpredictable, but we can only hope. A man who does this to people should at least reckon that maybe his tactics are questionable to say the very least. Especially when the results are lying brainless on the floor of their infant daughter's bedroom. But for O'Brien, it wasn't even remotely effective.

But I believe in karma. And I know he'll get his one day. At the time of this story, I was an 18-year-old male. I know, not typical for a teenage guy to be a babysitter, but I was a young entrepreneur, and if there was any chance of me making some money, I was going to do it, and that included babysitting. Now the incidents I'm about to describe to you from this night still haunt my dreams and probably will continue to haunt me my entire life. It was a normal fall Saturday. I live in upstate New York, so it was cold, but not freezing, and my mom's co-worker trusted me with the task of watching her son overnight. Now this was huge for somebody like

me because she was going to pay me a lot of money and the kid was nine years old so I figured it would be low maintenance. We could just stay up late playing video games, watch movies, pig out and have a great night. To me this was shaping up to be a really easy way to make some quick cash and sharpen my gaming skills, or so I thought. The kid isn't a baby, he's 9 years old and can basically take care of himself. I'm just there to make sure he's safe and that somebody is watching over him and not let him do something stupid. I arrived at 3pm on Saturday. We played outside in the leaves and threw the football back and forth until we got tired. I actually noticed that it was fun and I was having a good

time. We went inside at about 5pm. I ordered some pizzas and after we ate we just hung out and played some Overwatch. Hanzo main by the way. It honestly wouldn't be much different if I was home alone hanging out at my place. I was having a pretty good night. We stayed up late until about midnight I think and then I said it was time we called it a night. I told him we would camp in the living room and he was ecstatic at the idea. These people had money, a lot of money.

So to give you an idea of the layout of the house, the living room was in the far right corner of the house if you walk into the front door. We took a step down into this huge room with cathedral ceilings, I would say at least 20 feet or higher. Once you step down into the living room to the left is a wall with a giant 80 inch TV. It was pretty amazing playing video games on. In front of the TV was a huge beautiful sectional that wrapped around most of the living room, and then a recliner right near the step-down when you first get into the living room. Lastly, behind the sectional on the back wall, completely across from the TV, was a huge, massive window that overlooked a swamp and forest.

It was beautiful despite being called a swamp. The window was nearly the entire length of the ceiling. So, finally, settling down for the the night I shut off all the lights. The boy got cozy on the sectional and I turned the recliner around 180 degrees to face looking out the window. With all the lights off the moon looked beautiful reflecting off the swamp water. I heard the boy snoring and it didn't take long for me to drift off as well. Now this is where the story starts to get off the rails and I still can't quite explain it. I woke up with a jolt at 3.06am I remember specifically.

I know the exact time because I looked at my phone. Shaken up for some reason I couldn't really get comfortable. I tossed and turned for a minute but just couldn't find the sweet spot. And what happened next still makes me sick. I decided to stare out into the swamp to try and relax and what I saw began to make me tremble. A figure standing right outside in front of the swamp. Not moving at all, the black silhouette looked like a statue. I was completely still, starting to quietly panic if this figure could see me or not. I look back and the boy was still sleeping on the couch. Before I could look back at the man, I hear a knock at the door. This couldn't be happening, I thought. Not here,

not to me. I slowly made my way down the long hallway and looked out the side window. There wasn't anybody at the front door. I felt a very short moment of relief until I remembered the figure outside and the terror came back to me. As I slowly made my way back into the living room using only the bright moonlight as my guide is when I began to truly panic. The boy was standing on the back of the couch staring out the window with his arms wide open what is happening i ran into the room as fast as i could in hopes that the dark figure didn't see the young boy as i grabbed the boy to help him down he didn't even flinch or move it was like he was frozen or something i said his name a couple of times to try and wake him from his

trance and instead of waking he just looked up at me and smiled and said, he's back. I looked out the window and the dark figure began to sprint toward the window. Terrified, my instincts just kicked in and I ran out of the living room into the hall and turned into the father's office and locked the door. It was at that moment I realized I left the boy out there in the living room. I left him there with that sprinting shadow man. My fear got the better of me and I just ran. What a coward I thought. After what seemed like hours but in reality was only maybe seconds, I decided to go and get the boy and my cell phone which I left in the recliner so I could call the police.

I opened the door slowly and there at the end of the hall was the boy. I could barely make out the details of his face with the moonlight but he looked as if though he was smiling. He was standing stiff with his arms hunched over and had something in his hand. I can't be certain what was in his hand but it shined like a knife. I immediately turned around and went back into the office. The wall clock said 3.17. The horror I had endured was barely 10 minutes, but it felt like hours. I stayed there hiding under the desk, crying for about an hour. Now I was a big, strong football player. Cowering in a ball and crying was not something I did ever in my life.

At about 4.25am I opened the door. The boy was lying in the middle of the hallway where he was standing an hour ago. I slowly made my way to the boy. He was breathing and seemed to be peacefully asleep. He had no knife or anything of the sort in his hand or around his person. I was 100% sure he was holding something. I took the boy into the office with me and shut the door. I stayed up watching the door and the boy until the sun started to come up. Shortly after 6.30 I opened the office door again. I took the boy and placed him on the couch. I began to calm down a little bit but I was not going back to sleep. I couldn't comprehend what I saw. The whole event seemed more like a nightmare than something that could actually happen

and I often wonder if maybe it was. The boy's parents were supposed to be home at noon. At 11am the boy was awake. We had some cereal, watched YouTube on the smart TV. He laughed and joked with me and said how much fun the night was. He asked if I could stay over again and I of course smiled and said, yeah buddy, we'll see. Could this kid really not have any memory of what happened? I just endured the worst night and most terrorizing night of my entire life and this kid can't remember anything.

Shortly before noon, I got myself all ready to go home. The boy started playing video games and I told him I would be right back. I went outside using the back door and approached the front of the pond and what I saw almost made me collapse in fear. Right where I saw the figure standing the night before were two muddy footprints and the footprints made their way all the way to the window where I saw the man run. I followed the footprints all the way to the front door and there by the door was a kitchen knife. I couldn't explain it and still can't. I brought the knife inside and said

goodbye to the boy. His parents arrived and paid me. I couldn't bring myself to telling this to the parents as I myself didn't even know if it was truly reality. I left so fast and I couldn't get the images of that night out of my head. I don't sleep well anymore and I'm not sure if I ever will. But one thing is for sure. I will never babysit again. I'm 20 years old, female, and this was the last time I willingly stayed in a room alone with a child. I used to babysit on the weekends when I was 15. Most of the families that I'd babysit for were nice, sophisticated families who had sweet children that I loved. However, the Cooper family were the exception. Mr. and Mrs. Cooper had two children, Michael, who was 10, and Antoinette, who was 4.

Michael was quiet, though misbehaved and crazy demented. Antoinette was loud, cheerful, and the complete opposite of her brother. She was so innocent. I truly adored Antoinette, yet I despised Michael. He was an absolute terror. I'd watch over the two children on Friday nights for three hours while their parents went on a date, meaning three awful hours of psychological, emotional, and physical torture from psycho Michael. There were many times that I would catch Michael staring at me while I was sitting at the

dining room table doing my homework. I'd tell him to quit it, but he wouldn't stop until I moved out of view. Michael was really cruel to his sister. He would push her down the stairs, pull the heads off her Barbie dolls, and cut up her clothes. Michael would also hit the cats with a sock full of quarters. One cat actually ended up dying from internal injuries. He would growl at the neighbor's dog on a good day and tape stuffed animals to windows with scissors sticking out of their heads on a really bad day. He was a horrible little kid to say the least but the scariest part about babysitting the twerp was the night that he came for me. Let's keep in mind that I wasn't supposed to even be there that night but Mr. and Mrs. Cooper called my mom and asked if I could babysit

for them since their other arrangement had fallen through. My mom agreed without even asking me. I was supposed to babysit from 5 o'clock in the evening until 10 o'clock at night. It was storming out so the television had no signal and my cell phone didn't have any reception and Antoinette was staying with her grandmother, leaving me alone with the psycho child for 5 whole hours. I'm glad to say that the first few hours went by pretty quickly and without incident. He was fed, bathed and put to bed at around 8. Michael had fallen asleep the instant his head hit the pillow. I breathed a sigh of relief and laid down on the couch with headphones in, not knowing it would be a mistake.

The music was loud enough to drown out any other sounds. I stared at the ceiling for a while because there was no use in trying to delve deep into the realm of social media. I drifted to sleep at some point only to be scared awake because of an intense pressure resting on my throat. Michael was standing over me with a wide smile, gripping the handle of a kitchen knife. I wasn't able to ask what he was doing due to the sudden fear that filled me. He pushed the blade harder and harder against my neck until I could feel a burning sensation. He laughed maniacally before running out of the room. I wiped the small amount of blood from my neck while

searching the entire house only to panic when he was nowhere to be found. The sound of the cat screeching caused a breath to hitch in my throat. I quickly grabbed the baseball bat from the linen closet and hurried up the stairs. My hand hesitantly grabbed the doorknob to Michael's bedroom. I pushed the door open, which I still regret to this day. My screams of terror were drowned out by his laughter. Michael was sitting in the open doorway of his closet, with the carcass of the cat lying in his lap. I really do wish I could say that the horror had ended there, but it didn't. No. That twisted boy chased after me, attempting to slice my back open with every step

he took. The deranged psychopath managed to get close enough to plunge the knife into my shoulder. Needless to say, I ran out of the front door and didn't stop until I was hunched over trying to catch my breath a block away from the police station. I packed up my things a few months after that, moved into an apartment with my now husband 1,000 miles away from the town that I grew up in. I had to move 1,000 miles away from Psycho Michael in order to feel safe but even that made me crazier. I attended therapy for several years afterward. I couldn't sleep without the lights on because the image of him holding a dead cat had permanently seared itself into my mind. I was paranoid for months, afraid that he would jump out from behind a corner and yet I still harbored the

idea of having my own children one day. Truth be told, I honestly did care about the Cooper kids, but after the injuries I suffered, physical and psychological, my parents and I had no other choice but to press charges, at the very least to pay for medical bills and counseling. Michael, being as young as he was, was committed to a psychiatric treatment in juvenile detention for nearly three to five years from what I heard. But after all the legal processes were complete, I couldn't bring myself to digging any deeper as to not relive that memory. Looking back on the incident now makes me feel silly for even being scared of a 10 year old.

It's strange how life works sometimes. It's strange how I just froze there. I eventually realized that I don't want children and I absolutely refuse to babysit for anyone. To be continued... I know exactly what you're thinking. Why would you willingly waste your time watching children when you could have been working retail or some other halfway decent job? Am I close? Well, as you can imagine, the majority of kids I've looked after were happy, normal children, but my sister's children... Let me get to that. Here's a little background just to help you better understand why I don't foresee myself having children anytime soon, if ever. I'm a male and a social outcast at that. I was 16 when my mom told me that I'd be babysitting for my older sister. Naturally, I shrugged it off as it were no big

deal because I mean, what's the worst that could happen, right? My sister needed to go out of town on a business trip for two days which then caused my mom to decide that I was the right candidate for the job. I learned very quickly that kids are hungry literally every five minutes and they have no respect for the babysitter and they are totally out of control without their parents around. That was a bummer. Kids are perceived as sweet, innocent, and all-around pure yet I have first-hand experience on just how truly creepy some kids can be. I have been around my nieces and nephews dozens of times before, so there wasn't any reason for me to think that they were a bit peculiar, aside from the fact that I walked in on Nat, short for Natalie, attempting to sacrifice her sister to the devil in order to

bargain for immortality by shoving Lux's hand into a blender. Luckily, I was able to pry her away from the blender before she could turn it on. I had been watching them for less than 20 minutes when that incident occurred. Fast forward to this first afternoon, the kids were playing in the toy room, so I decided to watch television before doing my homework. I was in the middle of a funny movie when Mike cut the side of my neck with scissors. He drew a pentagram on the floor with ketchup, chanted something in a language that I didn't recognize, they probably made it up, and locked Jay in the basement. Tony was the good kid who explained that Mike was trying to summon a demon, someone that is close to the devil so that he could bargain Jay's soul for immortality

Mike angrily hissed at me when the plan didn't work I swear to God those freaking creepypastas they watch really don't help them It was then that I learned that they had a crazy obsession with vampires The need to be immortal and trying to draw blood from people was their way to fulfill the desire to be like the people in movies or books. These kids were actually trying to figure out ways that they could become immortal without having to stay so small for all of eternity. I thought that was a bit unhealthy. I still have no idea how the internet or horror movies when their parents weren't looking really activated this, but I'm honestly still scared of what could have happened. Nat was the eldest child. She was the

bad influence on her siblings. She was the entire reason why everything went down on the second night. I was studying for a calculus test that I had the next day. The kids were supposed to be playing in the backyard, which was the mistake. All I really remember about studying is that I had been exhausted from chasing around those brats the night before because I ended up falling asleep at the kitchen table. I woke up sometime in the afternoon with my hands and feet tied to a metal pipe in the basement while my deranged nieces and nephews stood over me with a weird look in their eyes. I struggled for a good ten minutes to free myself from that stupid rope as they chanted some weird language again. I assumed that they were really trying to sacrifice me, however, I was relieved when I saw one of the cats knock a candle off the windowsill.

The carpet and lengthy silk curtains immediately caught fire which caused the kids to untie me. We rushed out of the house and to safety just in time to watch the house burn, literally to the ground. I stood motionless for what seemed like hours before eventually the police were called by the neighbors. I called my mom to come get the kids before being questioned by police for over three hours. The detective that was interrogating me surely was about to arrest me but the fire department later ruled that the fire was an accident. My sister angrily barged into my room once she arrived home and informed me that I was no longer allowed to babysit her kids again and literally almost beat me senseless if it wasn't from my parents stopping her fury. I cried tears of joy at the news and never babysat again. I tried to explain the story to both the detectives and my family,

though my nieces and nephews' stories all apparently corroborated against my own, and there was nothing I could do. Needless to say, I never visited their family again, both by being shunned and by choice. Natalie and the other kids all grew out of the vampire phase from what I heard once they hit junior high and acquired less creepy, less dangerous interests. I'm 28 years old now, incredibly far away from my family, married to the most amazing woman, yet I still refuse to think about having children. You never know what they're going to get into. What is HelloFresh? HelloFresh is a meal kit delivery service that shops, plans, and delivers

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That's HelloFresh.com slash R-E-A-D 60. It's basically like receiving six meals for free or up to 50% off your first three boxes. Now that I had my chance to try HelloFresh, it's hands down my favorite meal kit delivery service out there. So this account happened several years ago. I was 18 at the time. My father asked me if I wanted to make a little extra money. Of course I said yes and he got this contract from the school for the summer to clean and get ready for next year. He had other jobs to do so I helped him with this one and of course he would pay me for the work I did. I had worked a couple of nights with my dad.

He would tell me what to do and where to go just to get me familiar with the school and show me what keys to open what doors. So once I had that down he would leave to go do other work while I would stay at the school. I had a morning job, so did my dad, so we would go later at night like 8 or 9 to start and depending on how quickly I did the job I would usually be done at 1 or 2 in the morning. Anyways this school was big, 3 floors with 2 gyms and several offices and a small chapel too. There were crosses everywhere and pictures of Jesus of course and I never felt uncomfortable. But this one night I had just finished waxing one of the gym's floors and I

was alone that one night. My dad would come back and pick me up later. It was about 11 30 and like I said I had just finished the gym. I was walking down the hallway back to the janitor room to get more supplies when I heard the gym door close behind me, scaring the crap out of me. I knew I had propped the door open but I paid no mind to it. I just went back and opened the door again and propped it open again making sure it wouldn't slam shut. Nothing else happened for the next half hour or so till I heard someone call my name. It was faint at first like at a distance. I thought it was my dad so I waited till I heard my name being called out again.

It was much clearer this time and it did sound like my dad. I yelled back that I'm in the office and I kept cleaning waiting for him to come my way and I waited about 5 minutes but he never came so I dropped what I was doing and I yelled again that I was in the office cleaning as I was walking down the hallway where I heard him calling me from. That's when I realized it couldn't be him. The doors are locked so no one without a key can get in and I had all the keys with me. I checked my pocket just to confirm and sure enough the bunch of them were there.

As soon as that happened I grabbed my cell phone and called my dad to see if maybe he was yelling from outside in. I get a hold of him and ask him if he was finished with his other job. He tells me he's just finishing up and will be there in 30 minutes. My heart sank and my blood ran cold. I said okay I'll see you then and I hung up. I tried hard not to think about it as I returned to the office and continued working. Nothing else happened that night and I don't want to drag this on so I'll make another post with all the other creepy things that started happening while working at that school. It will be an all-in-one story that was basically the intro. Well I am here yet again with another story as my time as a janitor in a

Catholic school. Like I ended my last story, this time will be a compilation of everything that happened to me at that school. Aside from strange noises here and there what really got me were the voices. Specifically the mimicking of my father's voice. The next time I heard my dad's voice I was working in one of the washrooms. I was just finishing up the mopping of the floors and I had the door held open by the bucket. As I was exiting the bathroom and moving the bucket away from the door I could clearly hear his voice say my name from inside the washroom. There was no way it was him. I didn't hesitate to walk right in and look for him. I opened every stall just to make sure and of course there was nobody. Like I said I had mentioned in my last story that this school had a small sanctuary

and in this sanctuary it had a statue of the Virgin Mary and several pictures of Jesus on the cross. Nothing that would creep anyone out I would think. But this one time when I was repolishing the seats I could swear someone or something was watching me. I was unsettled. I kept looking behind me never seeing anybody there. But I did notice one thing the statue was in a slightly different position than before. Believe me or not I know it had moved. Originally the Virgin Mary had her head positioned downwards and to the right of her shoulders eyes closed. But when I saw her eyes opened on one of the times I looked behind me I knew something was

different. Not only that but her head was more raised and centered as if she was looking right at me. I was so uncomfortable and just plain freaked out about it that I dropped what I was doing and left. There was no way that I was going back there and I did tell my dad that I never went back in there and every time I would walk by there I can hear the organ that was in there playing but that was only after the statue occurrence happened. Now it could have been automated I kept telling myself but I wasn't going to check. I started bringing my mp3 with me and listening to my own music. Of course I told my dad about the strange happenings and he never did question it. I asked him if anything similar ever

happened and he would say he would hear noises and people talking as well but he would just brush it off and keep working. On the last day that I would work there my father and I finished up and started making sure all the doors were locked. We started to head to the main entrance and I held the door open while my dad started inputting the security code. When he finished and closed and headed my way he closed the door and we both heard the organ just blasting. It startled the both of us. It was so loud it echoed through the halls. We stood there just for a second and turned around making our way to the car. I was so relieved that I would never have to set foot back inside that school ever again. This is a true story from an event that happened when I was just a little boy.

I'm a 23 year old man who as of late came to remember a terrifying experience as a 7 year old kid. Back when I was in second grade my mother and two siblings lived next door to my great-grandparents in the cottage she rented from them. The rent was cheap and since it was beachfront property, mom got a real bargain. I lived in the main house given the limited amount of room in the cottage. It was spring break and mom and I were the only people around the property. My brother and sister were visiting my aunt and younger cousins. I was offered a choice to go too, but I opted out because there was a Godzilla movie marathon all week,

and being a huge fan of the monster, I couldn't pass it up. Two nights later, mom had finished up cleaning up the table, and I helped with dishes. Shortly after that, I curled up on the living room couch to watch Godzilla vs. Biollanteante I must have fallen asleep during the movie because everything in the house was off and mom was already in bed at least that's what I could gather and lower story of the house the kitchen tile in the living room carpet were separated by a rubber border that was used to seal the tile and cover the

carpet tack strip the only two animals we had in the house were an Australian Shepherd who was called Tucker, which easily weighed 60 pounds, and Smokey, a puffy black calico cat which never came downstairs. Now old Tucker had long toenails that would click on the wood top stairs. He also made quite a ruckus if he came down the steps because he was a decent sized dog. I heard a sick slapping sound that my palms would make when I drum on the tile floor in the kitchen. Now if mom was in the kitchen making herself a snack she'd need to turn on a light to see. No lights, no mom standing in the kitchen, nobody at all. I covered my head with my blanket and stayed perfectly still. Another smacking sound of flesh slapping tile. This one was closer than before. I listened and

counted four distinct slaps. Whatever it was had been on all fours. It kept going until the smacking was replaced by the soft patting of feet on carpet. I heard breathing inches from my face before the source of the sound moved away and up the steps. I stayed awake under the covers until dawn. Mom came downstairs and seemed surprised by my disheveled appearance. She claimed I came upstairs in the middle of the night trying to wake her up by snarling like Godzilla. I never move from that couch that night. Even as I type this, it gives me chills. I have never been a believer in anything paranormal. I've always thought it's a load of crap, to put it lightly. However, considering something that happened to me, I think never been a believer in anything paranormal. I've always thought it's a load of crap, to put it lightly.

However, considering something that happened to me, I think I am a believer now. It happened on a Friday night, way back in November of last year, 2017. I was home alone in the house. Both brothers were out. One was based away in the army, one out Friday night drinking, and my parents were doing the weekly food shopping and weren't due to be back for a few hours. At around 8pm I got incredibly bored and decided to run a bath. So I go do just that.

I go into my bathroom, I turn the taps on to tap mode. Basically I have a 2 in 1 for my taps. Both the hot and cold flow through the same outlet and also there is this tiny lever. If you flick it to the right you can use a shower head. Flick it to the left, use the taps. I turn it to tap mode, turn the taps on, open the window and go back to my PC whilst the bath fills up. About 15 minutes later the bath is pretty full so I lock my PC and get into the bath. I don't do anything, just watch YouTube vids on my phone. I don't use the shower, don't use the taps at all so they are still in tap mode.

Just lie there with my phone. I'm only in the bath about 15 minutes and decide to get out. I stand, dry myself off and wait for the water to finish emptying. After it does I go back into my bedroom. Now for the weird stuff. About 20 minutes later, I notice it sounds like it's raining. Hard. But I have my bedroom window open,

and can confirm it was a quiet, dry, chilly English Friday night. So I go out onto the landing and can still hear the rain, except it obviously isn't rain. It's my shower. This straight away freaks me out and I get that horrible cold feeling on my neck, the old hair raising feeling that people always talk about. I never use the shower ahead, I never turn the tap to shower mode and I am the only person in the house so why can I hear the shower? I go to the bathroom door and open it. Instantly the shower goes off. I hear this huge clunking sound, the sound of pipes clunking after you turn a tap

off after it's opened fully. I assume the sound is water pressure from being open and closed so fast. I turn the light on and can see the whole room is misty from hot water. The shower head is dripping and water is draining down my bath. I freak out a bit. Look at the tap. It's still turned to tap mode. I turn the tap on. Yep, water flows out the tap. I have no idea how the shower was on, how hot water was coming out of it,

or how it all stopped just after I opened the door. I go check the whole house after this. I go into every room, check under each bed, look in each wardrobe, look behind the sofa, under the dining room table. The doors are locked, the windows locked, CCTV shows no one being outside that night. Nothing spooky, just parents leaving to go shopping and returning hours later. The only other thing I noticed was my birds being completely fixated on the corner of my living room I couldn't get their attention they just sat there heads tilted looking into the corner of the room. This is odd as my birdies are not hand tame they much prefer the company of each other. We basically bring the water and the food but they just weren't interested in me. I even stuck my finger in and tried to rub one of their tummies. He just looked

at me and climbed up to the top of the cage to get a good look again at the corner of the room. I really did not like that. So freaked out I just go into my room and wait my parents. It sounds stupid but I just can't explain why this happened. I know my mom and grandmother have experienced things in this house before but never myself. The house has been in my family for three generations, from brand new when it was built in the late late 1800s. It's just weird. I didn't like it and I'm now pretty convinced the paranormal was a lot more real than I previously thought. So this happened last year. My aunt's like to travel a lot now that she's retired and she'll ask me to take her to the airport. She lives about an hour outside of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania in a place that's pretty rural.

She doesn't like traveling out of PHL and will instead go to EWR, Newark Liberty International Airport for those not familiar with the code or area. So last year she decided to go to South and Central America for a month and asked me to come to her house to drive her since she didn't trust in my brother to actually show up when he said he would. I met her at her place the night before, went to bed for a few hours, then we left in her car at 1am so she could get to the airport in time. We decided to take her car because it's a mid-size SUV and held her luggage better than my sedan did. I guess we had been on the road for about 20 minutes. I'm not entirely sure because my perception of the passage of time isn't amazing, but we had to drive through a lot of small little old villages, not sure what else to call them, they were basically clumps of ten

houses in a small area. The homes were all super close to the road, like basically right on top of it, which helped note them as being a lot older. None of the lights were on, not even candle lamps in the windows, and if you're from Pennsylvania you know what I'm talking about with those lamps, they're everywhere. The area had a lot of woods, it was overall just very creepy and very foggy out. We were driving along and all of the sudden we came up on something. It was facing toward a telephone pole off to the right of the car. The pole was just in front of a garage or a small barn structure. All I could see was the back of its head, completely white, no hair, and its hands and its forearms which were totally

white. It looked like it was wearing a dark shirt or something of that nature, but it was facing away from us, leaning into the telephone pole with its arms up against the pole and its head against its arms, or at least a stance similar to that. The worst feeling I had ever felt rose up in my chest when I saw it. I felt my heart almost stop and drop into my stomach. I felt sick and terrified. All I knew was that whatever it was, I didn't want it to turn around, no matter what. I knew it couldn't be allowed to turn around, or I would regret it. I've seen a lot of really weird things in my life and felt a lot of really weird sensations. I've always been super sensitive to energy and homes and I have straight up seen

ghosts in my parents home. One of which I am very wary of. The other I am comforted by but that's a different story for a different time. But this, this was actually terrifying. I cannot explain the immense feeling of dread and horror I experienced in that moment to you. You could only understand if you've experienced it yourself. We passed it by so quickly and it was so late that I thought I must have imagined it. But that feeling stuck with me. I didn't say anything to my aunt. I thought she didn't see it either.

But about ten seconds after we went past it she says did you? And a long pause. Did you see that thing? We talked about it. She described to me exactly what I saw. I knew right then and there that I was going to be terrified to drive back to her home to switch cars at 4 or 5 a or 5am when I got back to her place from the airport by myself and all I could think is that I didn't want that thing to be there because I would hit it if it came into the road and I wouldn't stop to check if I did. It wasn't going to get to me. Luckily it wasn't there when I drove past the same area again on the way to her home, and believe me, I was hyper aware the entire way there.

I was even terrified to walk from her front door to my car. I ran and locked myself in as soon as I sat down and shut the car door. The next time I drove her to the airport, I had looked for it but it wasn't there. I haven't seen it since. I've only told a couple of friends about it and one of them and her best friend saw something similar peeking at them around the back side of her house when they were sitting in her car one night. She also lives in Royal PA, 19 miles from me, about a 40 minute drive and I'm 22ish miles outside of Philly,

also roughly 40 minutes of a drive. She also lives out in the woods. Have any of you ever experienced something like this? I saw a video once online of something that just had a white head and white long legs walking around and it didn't look like that. This thing was tall and had distinct arms and legs. It had no hair whatsoever on its body. I don't know if it had facial features because it was facing towards the pole, almost like it was counting for hide-and-go-seek with its arms wrapped up. It might have been hugging onto the pole. It wore something black, and I experienced the worst and most deeply jolting fear in its presence, and I was only near it for a few seconds.

Before I left for college, I lived with my parents in a house that we all heard weird noises in, such as people walking up and down steps when no one else is home, TV randomly turning on. After I left for college, my parents sold the house and asked me to come home to pack up my things to help move. All bedrooms in my house were on the second floor and the stairs coming upstairs were located closer to my parents' bedroom than my own so that the majority of the hallway stretched down toward my room, maybe 8 feet from the stairs to my door. I spent the day packing when I came home so that when I went to bed, my room was nothing but boxes and my mattress on the floor. Not long after I turned out my light, I heard someone walking up and down the stairs.

I get spooked and turn my bedroom light on. My door is shut due to this occurring many times before. I sit up on my mattress and look at the door when I suddenly hear someone sprint up the stairs and down the hall to my door and stop just outside. I then hear knocking that starts toward the bottom of the door and moves up and down until it reaches about halfway up the door and stops. I didn't sleep at all that night. I kept my lights on and messed around on my laptop until the sun came up. I never heard any more steps that night and felt like someone was just standing there all night waiting for me to open the door. I always felt like the presence

was of a kid and the fact that they only knocked half halfway up the door felt like confirmation of that. I still sleep with my door shut and actually make my husband sleep between me and the door. It all happened with a nightmare. I can't recall what the dream was, not that it's important. The rest from this point to the encounter is important. My parents' bedroom is set up in a square shape with around four closets at the time which were all walk-in. There is another small open rectangle room connected to my parents' room. It's a small cat room. I think we had an exercise bike in there at the time. I'm not too sure. The bed was facing the three closets which were all closed. The other thing is that none of the cats seemed to be in the room at the time which tells me that this thing was there or that it had been hiding. Back to me. I was between my mom and my dad. My dad is a heavy sleeper and snores. My mom is a somewhat heavy sleeper.

I'm a light sleeper. My mom was facing the fourth closet, the one next to one of the two windows. My dad was facing my mom and I. I remember waking up when my dad started snoring. When I woke up, something felt off. I knew something was staring at me. At first I thought it was my dad or mom but I knew my mom was facing the closet from seeing the way her body was facing and her hair brushing against my right

arm. I knew my dad was sleeping since I looked over at him and his eyes were obviously closed. Then I looked into the dark. I looked for a few minutes, maybe five or four since the clock was on that side of the bed. On that side was the second and third window. The second large window had a curtain which was white. The third window was small and narrow with no curtain. I turned over again and then faced my mother. This is when I saw it. I'm unsure if it was there or my eyes playing a trick, but when I turned I got a very quick glimpse of it. The thing was tall, of course, it was white. The thing seemed to fade away at the knees or hips.

It seemed to be hovering just above the bed. Its arms were at its side, but it didn't seem to have hands, just stubs. The head was blurry, while its whole body seemed blurry. I saw no facial features and it had no hair. I remember quickly ducking my head and when I looked up again, it was gone. Now I know this wasn't the curtain to the first window. The thing was at least a foot away from the window and the curtain to that window was parted a little. Not to mention, if it was the the curtain it should have been a shaded gray. The humanoid was a lighter shade of gray even in the dark but the thing that really got

to me was that when my mother got up to do whatever she gets up every hour. She turned on the lights to the bathroom in the kitchen. I got up after her since I didn't want to be alone and not have someone blocking that area and just to try and wake up a little. She went out to the kitchen and I noticed that one of our cats, at the time our large orange cat named Rudy, was all puffed up and in the corner of the kitchen near the dishwasher. Rudy is a big cat and a lazy one, hardly reacting to anything. He was one of the more relaxed cats we had, but that night he was puffed up and had an angry vibe on him. When my mother tried to touch him, he hissed at her, bit her hand and

then ran off to the table. I don't think the rest of this night matters. Nothing else happened and the day after this happened the cats were acting normal, but Rudy was still angry, which was so odd to me. He is a sweet cat, not one to become aggressive. That's all I have about that night. Now this brings it to now. Yesterday at 12 I was on my phone when I was drawn to the window for no reason. As I pulled the curtains back I remember seeing this faintly whitish thing in the woods. My room is on the second floor. Our room has two windows, one facing the driveway and road, the second facing the actual woods. The wood is on a hill, a steep hill. The figure was behind a tree. It seemed to be hiding or trying not to be seen,

just peeking out. When I opened the curtain a bit wider to get a picture of it, it disappeared behind the tree. I didn't get the picture but I planned to wait for a bit but it never came out and I think I fell asleep at some point and woke up in the morning. Nothing's happened now but I'm just waiting to get some picture of it so I could prove it to you guys. This might sound odd but I'll update this whenever something happens. Names and details leading up to this encounter aren't very important, so I'll just set the scene. Two 14-year-old girls on an isolated Kentucky mountaintop a few hours after I flipped the ATV, injuring my friend's leg. I tried to act quickly, but I was too weak to get the ATV upright by myself. Once the both of us lifted it, we promptly flooded the engine. A woman of action, I helped my friend up, put it in neutral and decided

to push the ATV down the mountain with my friend occasionally tapping the brake. Suddenly, she halts our progress and asks me to jump on the back. In front of us was a monster of a snake. It was the fattest angriest hog snake I had ever seen right across our path blocking us. By this time it was almost dusk. Because the snake was easily the size of my arm we decided to just stare it down waiting on it to crawl on. Finally I could push again though I wasn't thrilled about walking next to this lazy flat goblin. I didn't have a long way to go and we'd be able to coast on down or maybe my parents would come searching for us. There was still plenty of light but the sky was pink from sunset. Simultaneously our heads snapped to look behind us.

I'm not entirely sure why we even looked. There wasn't a sound, no twig snap. It had been something instinctual because we both looked back at the tree lined path we'd slowly come through. Every hair that I owned raised. My blood ran cold in an instant. I spared one quick glance at my friend, mostly because I hadn't seen it yet. She had. She was completely frozen and I followed her gaze to

about 15 feet behind me. There sat this creature, hunched over, boneless yet with some humanoid form. It was skin, pale white skin. At first I thought that was all that it was, like Buffalo Bill caught Gollum. Then, barely a second after that, panicked observation I noticed its face, its eyes. They were so deeply set that at first terrified glance I thought that they were only empty black pits. The setting sun struck them just enough that I could see the refraction. Its nose was flatter than Voldemort's. This hunched, naked, pale creature was studying me just the same. Its lips were pale, pink, and trembling. A horrifying thought informed me that this gaunt creature was famished, starving, hungry. As if it heard my

inner dialogue, it raised its skin-wrapped skeletal hand to silence me. Then it waved its claws one finger at a time. I wished that I had counted them, but I was trying desperately not to pee myself. Then, the sweetest sound I'd ever heard, the ATV started. My friend, the angel, must have turned away long enough to try it, so I risked it as well. I leaped onto the back of the ATV, sobbing and wrapping my arms around my buddy so tightly that probably the reason for her cracked rib and not the accident. When I glanced back, it was gone. Halfway down the mountain, we ran in my parents. It was pitch black. We survived and talked about it later at the hospital. Turns out she didn't even know how to start the ATV. It wasn't her. It's been a few years since this happened.

I haven't been back on the mountain. I'm still friends with her and we've talked about it a few times. We've theorized various possibilities as to what it could have been but we can't agree. I've tried to find similar encounters even in mythology and finally I'm here. I'm sure that I've not explained it very well but I did try my best. Do you have any ideas as to what it is? Did it want to eat me or help us out? We both saw it, so at least I know I'm not crazy. My whole family is from Louisiana, born and raised. And I was born and raised in Houston my whole life due to my parents getting jobs in the oil industry. I spent every summer and most holidays with my grandparents because my mom was a single, hardworking mother.

I loved spending time with them and I loved the house. I had numerous experiences as a youngin, but this one stands out the most. Please ask if y'all would like to hear the other accounts. When I was 4-5 years old, I don't exactly remember, I was at my grandparents' house. It's an old wood house out in the country and I was getting ready for my nightly bath. I wanted to be a big boy so my grandma, meemaw, let me bath alone that night. I really looked forward to bathing at her house every time I was there because they always had these soap balls. They were made of gel and

were soft to the touch that I would dump in the bath with me and when they got warm enough they would dissolve and turn into this frothy awesome bubble bath. So as I'm sitting in the bath doing my thing putting on sienna beards, bubble hats, I kept hearing voices from the rooms outside of the bathroom. There was a room on each side with a door leading into the bathroom. I would occasionally hear my name or something like it, and I would yell out, what, to my cousins who would also spend summers there. They wouldn't respond, and I didn't think anything of it

because my cousins and grandparents were in the rooms when I started to take my bath. So about the time the bathtub is full the bathroom lights just start turning off and on rapidly like someone was just flipping the switch on and off trying to scare me. I was the youngest cousin so this happened very often. I remember thinking it was the mean cousin so I yelled out for Jake to stop and it did. Thinking my grandma who always had my back, me ma, told him to cut it out. As soon as I get back to having fun in the bath I kept hearing my name and my cousins playing and laughing outside of the bathroom so I got anxious and wanted to go play with them before we all had to lay down for bed. As soon as I stand up in the bathtub to get out the light completely

shuts off. It's pitch black, there are no windows in the bathroom and both the sinks turn on. I can hear the sinks running as they've been fully turned on and I'm just standing in the pitch black wondering how my cousins were doing this and I yelled again at them to stop but the lights didn't come back on and the sinks are still going. I proceed to get out of the tub, turn the lights on, turn the sinks off, dry off and put my sweet Batman pajamas on. I could still hear my cousins playing outside the bathroom so I was trying to hurry up and get out there with them. As soon as I opened the first bathroom door connected to room one I realized no one is there and they must be on the other side. I walked to the other door to room two, open it and again I was met with nothing but silence. No cousins in sight. At this point I get a little scared and run

to the front of the house where I find my grandparents and all four cousins sitting in the living room watching a movie. I ask, y'all aren't playing anymore? And they all just kind of looked at me like an annoying little cousin and didn't respond. So I get aggravated saying I heard them playing outside the room and that they kept turning the lights on and off and turned both sinks on when I was in the bathroom. As soon as I say this my grandma yells at me to hush and gets this weird almost alarmed look on her face. So I just sat down with everyone and chalked it up as my cousins lying to my grandma so they wouldn't get in trouble. It's been over 20 years later and I still think about who or what that was

messing with me over 20 years ago. Ever since I can remember, I had the dreams. They weren't especially memorable or interesting, too lifelike to hold the attention of a little girl whose favorite game was make-believe. Her name was Elizabeth, but she went by Eliza. She was my third grandmother. We would walk around her garden or bake cookies. She'd ask about my life and how I was doing. I'd tell her about starting kindergarten, moving schools in second grade, and moving states and forth. She was my subconscious confidant, a constant for my formative years, but Grandma Eliza wasn't as exciting as my other dreams about ripping the

faces off of vampires and turning into a mermaid fairy ballerina performing in the Nutcracker. Just ordinary. At least until just before my 10th birthday. We were decorating cookies at her kitchen table when Grandma Eliza told me we were to go on a walk. It was a normal activity we did together except this time in place of her garden, we were in a cemetery. I can't see you anymore, she I have to go now but why I asked I was curious this wasn't like any other dreams well it's time for me to leave but remember I'll always love you I'll always look after you she hugged me close and I breathed in her warm familiar smell looked up at her kind face that looks so like mine. The laugh lines and freckles likely a premonition of my future and then I woke up. Immediately I knew something

was off. I could hear the faint sounds of sobbing from the other end of the house. Confused and scared, I walked towards the kitchen. My father, the epitome of strength, masculinity, strong-willed and often stoned face, crumpled in a chair. My mother comforting him, the telephone in his lap. I didn't know what to do. I had never seen my dad cry before. My mom saw me and motioned me to come comfort him. Are you okay, daddy? I asked, more sobbing. My mom answered for him.

We just got a call and your dad's birth mother passed away last night. She said. The image of grandma Eliza standing in the graveyard flashed through my head. Grandma died? I asked knowing that wasn't what she meant. No sweetie. Your dad was adopted and we just found out his birth mom passed away he never got to meet her so he's very upset right now mostly calmed down my dad lifted me into his lap was her name elizabeth i asked their eyes widen a little bit. But she went by Eliza, right? I continued. Incredibly, I recalled several facts and preferences of my grandma Eliza I had learned from years of dreaming about her. My parents were more than a little shaken as I told them about the year's worth of dream meetings ending with the one I'd just woken up from. But she said she loved me very much and she would continue to look after

me. I'm not entirely sure they believed me but it was undeniable that I knew things about her I could not have possibly known. My mom tried to explain it away as half-heard conversation or a child's imagination just happening to hit a few marks but I knew. I knew my grandma Eliza was visiting me. I knew she had wanted to meet me and living a thousand miles away she did it the only way she could. It wasn't until years later I found out she had also been a paranoid schizophrenic. She spent large portions of her life hospitalized. America wasn't kind to mental illness in the 60s. As I grew up and my own mental health began to deteriorate, an old fear came back to the surface. Why did she contact me? What sort of connection did we share? How did she do it? We were connected

by illness, I wondered. Did her periods of hospitalization allow her to figure out how to reach into my dreams? Thankfully my mental health has been stable for the past few years and currently I am not experiencing any schizoaffective symptoms and although I haven't seen her since that night I can't help but wonder, did she reach out to me or did I reach out to her? When I was younger and first getting into paranormal research, my dad had told me the story of an experience that had haunted him since before I was born. About 9 years before I was born my dad was 16 and had been staying at his uncle's house. The house was located across from a cemetery where incidentally enough

my great uncle and grandfather are both now buried where my dad and his cousin would walk through to get to a small reservoir to go fishing late at night. One of these nights my dad is carrying the canoe in front and his cousin is carrying the rear. My dad turns his head briefly and spots a man standing by some of the graves. The man is very tall with a wide brim undertaker hat, a trench coat and a long beard. My dad said he had looked straight out of the 1800s. He turns to his cousin and asks him who that guy is to which his cousin says he doesn't see anyone. My dad turns and the stranger is nowhere to be seen. The gravestones are not very large in the cemetery and it's a fairly wide and open area

so there is nowhere the man could have gotten so quickly. My dad drops the canoe and runs back to the house. The story should end there but it doesn't. Two years later my dad is sleeping on the floor of his uncle's house. My grandparents are asleep on the couch near him and my uncle is upstairs. My dad hears a faint scratching sound on the window screen and he jumps up thinking his cousin has come by to go fishing. He kneels by the window and opens the shade a few inches, his face close so he can see a little better. Separated by only a screen is the same man from before and my dad screams. My grandfather leaps up and grabs a gun from the wall and my great uncle comes running down the stairs with his gun. They search the property

within seconds of my dad screaming and find no one on the property. Fast forward 20 some odd years and my dad and I are going shopping at a local grocery store. We are less than five minutes from home and went to pick up a few things we had needed. As we turn from one aisle into the next, turning out of the aisle we left is a tall, long beard, a wide brim undertaker hat, and a trench coat. Every hair on my body went on end. He looked as solid as any person I had ever seen, but the way he was dressed clashed with my logic and rationale. We both froze as the man continued down the aisle, walking immediately down the middle

with an endless and deliberate slowness. We both pressed against the edges of the aisle as he walked past us. His eyes have never left ours the entire time. Wordlessly, we drop everything where we stood and ran to the car. For most of the drive home, we say nothing. Finally my dad says that that was the man I told you about and I simply say I know. When we get home my grandmother notices we're both pale and terrified. We tell her the story in its entirety and she says I've seen him too. Confused my dad asks when and she tells us about when she was pregnant with my uncle, who was two years older than my dad. She's returning home to their apartment and as she was walking up the stairs, the man had been coming down, rushing past her.

She thinks nothing of it until she gets to her floor and realizes that the only place he could have come from was her apartment. She checks the lock and the door is still locked, so she runs downstairs to confront the man but he's nowhere to be found. My dad passed away two years ago and I haven't seen the man since the day in the grocery store. I have decided that if I see him again I will ask When I was 18, about a year and a half ago, I was lying on my stomach on my bed playing my 3DS. All of my lights were on and I was gearing up to set my game aside to actually go to sleep. Before I did though, I started to hear this horrible sobbing.

It was the saddest, most gut wrenching sound I've ever heard. It sounded like a man just completely losing it, forgetting all the emotional training he'd had all of his life and just letting it all go. It was like a high-pitched male howling and crying. It was so painful just to listen to. I immediately thought that it was my dad. He sleeps just above me, separate from my mother due to his snoring and my grandfather had been really sick for years. I figured that my grandpa had passed. I didn't think much of ghosts or anything and just left my room, went up the stairs and woke my mother up. By the time I had left the room, the sobbing had stopped and when I left by my dad's room to tell my mom

I couldn't hear the crying anymore. Again I didn't think anything of it for whatever reason and just figured he was gaining control of himself. I woke my mom up and told her I think grandpa died. She got this look on her face like oh god and got up. I thought I was emotionally gearing up for the death of a family member so I left her to it and started just messing around the kitchen to get a drink to keep myself busy. I heard my mom go into my dad's room and I could hear him go, hmm? I got this kind of feeling in my gut that said he was asleep and I started to shake but I brushed it off as me reading too many unresolved mystery stories. My mom came out after a little bit and looked at me really quizzically.

Everything's okay, she said. He was asleep. I started to shake and cry immediately. I was shaking so bad that I couldn't actually stand and my mother had to come over and hold me up. I knew exactly what I had heard and I was also letting go of all this emotional energy that I had pent up all at once. It took quite a while for her to calm me down and to get me to stop crying. I don't remember feeling scared or full of adrenaline but I do remember crying and shaking. My memory is hazy after that.

I actually think I went down to my bed and to sleep without much issue. I don't know why it didn't bother me more at the time. My dad said that he had left on a World War II documentary and insisted it was just that. Only issue is that I've slept under him since I was 11 and he usually falls asleep in the middle of some documentary or other. I only occasionally hear his movies through the ground, and it's always been kind of quiet. Nothing I have ever heard has ever been that loud and that clear looking back on it, and it sounded more like it was in my room than coming from the floor above, let alone on that night. None of the other noises that might have been the documentary made it through the floorboards that night. My mom joked it was his snoringoring but we run into the exact same issues.

Some of the people I've told say it was sleep paralysis or just plain old dreaming. For one, I've experienced sleep paralysis before and every single one has been purely auditory for me, meaning that my eyes cannot be open at the same time. I've yet to come across an exception so the fact that my eyes were open and I was playing a game at the time kind of wipes out that idea for me. Also again I wasn't even properly lying down and my lights weren't off. I wasn't even sleepy really so I definitely wasn't sleepy enough just to fall asleep in that position. During the same week I was home alone with my dog in my lap. I was sitting on the couch upstairs facing away from the stairway. I heard someone running up and down about four steps at the top really deliberately about four times.

Again, I had this weird non-issue with it at the time. I didn't feel all that afraid, no adrenaline rush or anything. I did get up to grab a knife but I still wasn't scared when I was doing it. It's only as I'm writing it that I realize how weird that sounds, like I didn't feel scared at all. But my body went through the motions of being scared in both situations, shaking, grabbing a knife, etc. The sound of the sobbing has always really stuck with me. It truly is the saddest sound I've ever heard and I will never ever forget it. I do go back and forth on whether it was a high-pitched male sobbing or

female. It being female is slightly more juicy as we've had a woman end herself in our garage back in the 50s after a divorce and we've joked about her haunting our house for years. But I think it was male because my immediate reaction was, oh, it's my dad. And I remember it sounded especially sad because it was like someone completely letting go of all social norms. I've never had any more paranormal experiences in my house. It was just those two specific instances in that couple-a-day time span. I actually don't believe in the paranormal,

but I also think it's stupid to believe there are things we can't explain, so these experiences have always been a weird middle ground for me. I'm a 19 year old female and this happened to me in January of this year. Little background story, my sister, 23 years old and I were living at my best friend's house with her dad a few months before this. We were kicked out of our parents house and stayed with my best friend till we got on our feet. After a few months of staying with my best friend till we got on our feet. After a few months of staying with my best friend we eventually moved out to my first apartment. I was excited to live independently and provide for myself and also prove to my parents that

I am responsible. Our first apartment was located in a bad part of town. The rent was cheaper and that's the only way we could afford it at that time. After settling in we left for a cabin that weekend to celebrate my birthday. When we returned my sister who owns a 99 Jeep Cherokee had it move slightly as if someone had tried to tow it. My sister doesn't take those types of things easily so she was going to march over to the leasing office and ask if they tried to move her car out of her spot. But they were closed and she left it alone. The following week on Friday as I was leaving for work early that morning I noticed that her car was missing. I called her immediately and asked if she'd moved it that night. She started to become frantic and she came outside. She was

starting to cry and called the police. I felt bad for leaving her to go to work but I did get to leave work early that day. Eventually the same day we found her car at a local Sherry's parking lot. The conditions of her car were about the same but a few tools were left in the back seat. Our dad bought us clubs to lock our steering wheel. It gave us a little peace of mind. The Friday after that incident, as I was walking to my car, 96 Honda Accord, in the morning for work, I heard a car running. As I walked closer, I noticed that it was my car. I don't know why, but the first thing I did was walk straight up to my car and get inside to turn off the engine. I know, very stupid idea. The entire plastic covering near

where I insert my key was missing and a whole bunch of wires were detached. I had tried several times to turn off my engine but I couldn't. I was panicking even more when I noticed a screwdriver that was not mine in the passenger seat. I called my sister and she came right out. She was so upset and so was I. I had to call into work so I could file a police report. We were waiting an hour for the police to show up and-ins and thefts around here and they usually patrol and they're trying to have more cameras installed around. My sister and I didn't know what to think. We thought it was creepy that within the two weeks of being here we've already encountered two cases of our cars being messed with. Our landlord was surprised to hear that this happened twice and she offered us to let us have the garage for one month free. We took the deal and our personal parking spot was moved closer to our apartment.

Even with all the safety precautions we took with our cars, I still felt unsafe. Maybe it was because of the area where the garage was located. It was near a roundabout that was surrounded by trees that were barricaded by a little fence. Whenever I had to go back there to get my car I constantly felt eyes on me. It was also a process of unlocking the garage, unlocking my car doors, taking off the club from my steering wheel, backing up, getting out and closing the garage door before I left anywhere. I felt by doing this every time I'm taking so much time to do these things that I don't feel safe being alone anymore. My sister agreed. We knew we had to leave these apartments soon. The following week my sister left on a trip to Santa Barbara with her friend

while I stayed home with my little six pound chihuahua. Not much of a guard dog but her presence made me feel better. Another Friday came and I invited my best friend over. We got dressed up and ate out at Olive Garden. That night when we came back home I dropped my friend off at my apartment doorsteps and drove to the little roundabout area to park my car for the night. As I was unlocking and lifting the garage door I felt an eerie presence. I felt more uncomfortable than I usually do. I hurried and parked my car in the garage, and I basically ran to my apartment and

kept looking back. The following morning, my best friend and I had our whole day planned. I was going to start by picking up my sister from the airport because she was returning that day. As we were walking up to the garage garage I noticed the lock that I always have on there was gone. I looked at my friend panicked and I lifted the door. I couldn't believe what I saw. I was beyond shocked. My car was gone. I didn't know what to do at this point. I called my brother and told him everything and he called my dad. I noticed inside the garage there was a huge hole, as big as the average sized person on the wall between my garage and the garage next to me. That garage belonged to my maintenance man. I called him too and he came right away.

I didn't bother to tell my sister as she was on her way back and I didn't want to stress her out. I walked back to my apartment, called the police and waited. I couldn't believe what was happening. I was livid. To think that these people went through so much work just to take my car. They broke through the garage lock, door lock and my club. Also they attempted to steal the truck beside me. My brother and dad were there with me to talk to the officer. My car was found several days later abandoned in a senior community living area. My battery was stolen, stereo was gone, my clothes and my trunk were missing, and my registration. These people not only took car parts but now they had my information. I didn't want to live there anymore. My sister and I broke the lease. We had to reach out to

corporate to get our deposit back because we hadn't even lived there a full month and we didn't think it was fair for them to keep our deposit. My only worry was why did they want our cars so bad? Why did they go through so much effort to get them? How did no one see or hear them when they were stealing my car? Why did they want my information? And also they must have really been watching my every move. They knew the times I worked, my sister's schedule, both our cars.

They knew we were young vulnerable females living alone. The creepiest thing to me is that while I was back there alone with nothing to protect me, they were watching and waiting. I'm lucky I wasn't physically hurt, and to all of you out there thinking you're safe at all times, please be careful no matter what because you never know who's really watching. I'm going to use our real names just because I don't feel like remembering artificial names while trying to remember a story I tried so hard to forget. So I'll give it to you raw and unedited. My name is Jimmy.

I'm a 24-year-old from Wisconsin. My girlfriend's name is Cassandra, and she too is a 24-year-old female from Wisconsin. At the time, we were both 23 so this happened in late August of 2017. At that time I had a 2009 Mitsubishi Eclipse GT. This may be a factor in the good outcome from that night later on. So after a rough summer in my hometown and endless problems it seemed, I had enough. I was ready to pack up and go in an instant and that's pretty much what I did. My girlfriend's father owns a 15 acre ranch out in Arizona in the middle of the Sonoran Desert about 45 minutes southwest of Tucson, Arizona. The ranch is in

Three Points, Arizona pretty much 45 minutes north of the Mexican border. My girlfriend's father, Rick, and I are very much alike. We both enjoy extreme sports, fast cars, and gorgeous women, so a work day for us would fly by with a breeze, like we were two buds kicking it on a weekend. So the idea of living there with him in full seclusion, surrounded by desert and my favorite terrain of all time, mountains, seemed like heaven compared to this terrible place I call home. I kicked the idea to my girlfriend the same day I said screw this and she agreed it was time for a change of scenery. I packed all of our valuable stuff, stuffed it all in my tiny Mitsubishi and hit the road at 3am the next night. Mind you I didn't even

get paid for my job yet but I said I'm done with it, I can't be here any longer. I hit the road at 3am the next night. Mind you I didn't even get paid for my job yet but I said I'm done with it. I can't be here any longer. I hit the road with about 300 bucks, my girlfriend and a car packed to the brim and the faith I'll make it safely without trouble. Lucky being a car guy that's ran into problems before, prepared I would say, appropriately and brought some tire pluggers just in case. Little did I know I would need them later on. The trip is going smoothly and we are about 17 hours in. I've already filled up 3 times and that 300 turned to 200 on top of food stops as well. 13 more hours to go.

I can't necessarily say what happened but I was halfway through Texas running low on money. After such a long ride driving straight through, music seemed like it was just messing with my head opposed to keeping me aware and awake so I turn it off. 15 minutes later my tire makes a weird hiss and my steering wheel starts resisting a bit. Luckily there was an exit coming up in 500 feet. I get off, observe my tire and lord behold, an industrial nail plug right in the tire near the edge. I got it out, plug the tire and put air in it. Temporary success, I continue my journey letting my girlfriend drive to try to close my eyes for a couple of hours. Mind you, we've been driving about 21 hours at this point and I'm exhausted. I fill up again and continue. I close my eyes and wake up

an hour and a half later to still be in Texas. I'm thinking, is this trip ever going to end? Getting kind of frustrated, feeling like my girl probably wasted 60 extra miles driving like a granny, I asked her to pull over and let me finish. I fill the tire up and top off the gas and go. About two more hours pass and New Mexico border is up in the next 30 miles. After being surrounded in total darkness for hours, we make it to a giant gas station, that's literally the name of it, and we pull in. I have half a tank of gas, 15 bucks, and I'm tired. We had 8 more hours ahead of us and we really felt we weren't going to make it, so we decided to call our father. No answer, another call, no answer, 3 more calls and still no answer. So we text him and continue on our way. Before we departed the

gas station on the border we checked out our maps to get a good idea of how much longer we had to finish this trip. So there were two routes. A long route that takes about an extra hour cutting through smaller New Mexico cities including Albuquerque with just a small patch of desert to drive through. I noticed the detoured route was an hour shorter in time and a straight shot through the desert. My Apple Maps wouldn't load the route properly or let me use it for directions so I restarted my phone. Still nothing. I had to download Google Maps just so I could use this route. Mind you, the way we chose to take, there were no city lights, no high pollution, just small stop and

supply towns with a hundred cars around but not a soul to be found. The first hour was okay besides it being pitch black, traveling on a two-lane desert highway with only 20 feet on the road in front of you being visible, nothing else. Not even my taillights could make anything out behind me. As I'm driving, headlights appear in the distance and I'm thinking to myself, finally, another driver. I won't be on this road alone anymore. After five minutes, the truck finally catches up and is behind me about two car lengths. Remember, I'm driving a small Mitsubishi Eclipse full of a bunch of my belongings and with my tire having issues it was putting a

bunch of weight on it making it uncomfortable to drive going at high speeds. So I'm going about 60 miles per hour and I can tell this truck wanted off this road as much as I did because they started passing on the other side of the road going about 90 flying past me. I'm big on cars and I'm our shops driver for our race team in South Arizona so I know cars and when it comes to speed I'm big on cars and I'm our shop's driver for our race team in South Arizona so I know cars and when it comes to speed I'm usually spot on with it. I'm thinking in my head, man I'm jealous. I just want to ditch all this stuff in my car and floor it with this guy. 20 minutes later I'm proceeding on my route and I see a huge semi coming up behind me. They never fully catch up, just close in the distance. I would say 500 to 600 feet. I looked in my rear view and there's still nothing significant.

I glue my eyes back to the road for another three minutes and check out my rear view again. Wait, he's gone. How, what, how I didn't see any roads to turn down, it's just been desert and one road, I say out loud to myself. Mind you, since we left the gas station on the border, my girlfriend has been sleeping like a newborn. I look over at her to tell her what I just saw, or didn't see, I think. Nah, I'm gonna let her sleep, I'll tell her later. As soon as I'm making my eyes back to the road, my phone internet data completely wiped on me. I couldn't make a phone call nor send a message. Nothing. Luckily, Google Maps was still loaded so I continued to follow the same route when all of a sudden, a bright light came up behind me in a distance probably a mile away.

Ground level. This light was so bright but seemed so directed. It didn't illuminate anything around us. It was just pointed at my car, like headlights. I remember saying, you a-hole, out loud, flipping my rear view mirror to reflect the lights. I assumed they had their brights on until I looked in my side view and realized how far the light actually was from me.

I also said out loud, those are some bright lights, I need those. Kind of joking myself out loud, even though it was one diamond shaped light. I figured it just looks like that because it's far and they're probably missing a headlight so I didn't think much of it. Just chopping it up to it's probably the truck driver that disappeared earlier. I drive for 30 more seconds and I look in my side view again, the lights closer and gaining on me extremely fast. Too fast to know nobody was that interested in driving over 100 miles an hour in pitch black desert with one headlight. I look down again. I look in the mirror. Okay, so I get anxiety and I wake my girlfriend up. I tell her what I have been seeing and ask her to check it out and make sure my eyes

aren't messing with me from being so exhausted. She saw it too and I don't know what it was when she looked at it but after all I just told her, she looked and the only thing she said when she turned back around from looking was drive faster. I floored it with all my weight on the car and my low pressure tire I gunned it and got to about 100 when I realized how unsafe the situation was then I receded to about 75 miles per hour just trying to keep my distance from this light then it's gone. We have about 29 miles left till we get on another desert highway going the direction we are headed and despite all my potential problems that strange light is all I could think about. About 11 miles to go the light comes back and out loud I look at my girlfriend and smile and say, look our friend's back in a joking way with a smirk on my face.

At this time though it made me feel weird. I didn't really think too much of it just how weird it was. This time the light was closer and I sped up again. It follows us for about six more miles then goes again. We finally switch routes and stop in this old run downtown about 30 miles west of Roswell, New Mexico. I see the sign stating this and in my head I say, you gotta be kidding me, as my girlfriend and I are big on the paranormal and take a huge interest in it, being a believer for the most part. I joked to my girlfriend about it and stated,

I knew it was an alien, and we both laughed. This town was so creepy. No gas stations, no lights, just cars on top of cars and no people. There was this old run-down motel that looked to be abandoned but the only light on around came from that light over the door of the motel. Also let me state I found out leaving this town that we were on this historic route 666 now known as route something old but you'd never know if you didn't care to look into it. Mind you my phone is still out of service. I park and get out to try for my phone after ringing the bell and knocking for about

five minutes. I get back into the car and tell my girlfriend no luck and we're just going to have to continue on. Another 68 more miles to go till we make another turn. God, this is raising the roof on my anxiety and I don't know how I feel at this point. I remember saying I just want this to be over. Low enough for my girlfriend not to make out what I said but hear me mumble something. I said no nothing and just continued driving. When we pulled out of the motel, we drove past a parked semi off the road right next to the motel.

As soon as we took off, this truck started right up and got right behind us. I'd say, that's weird, why did he decide to leave when we left? And my girlfriend responds, I don't want to find out, just drive faster. So he's following us for about 15 miles and we come up to a four-way cross intersection. I stop and I'm like alright, what's he gonna do? I pull over to the side of the road and he goes past about his business.

Instant relief, I felt, I'm not gonna lie. That was short-lived though because immediately getting back on the road I noticed the light once again came back and we're on a different highway stretch. How? Why? As I'm telling my girlfriend it's back once again. I kid you not this thing started elevating from ground level just over our car where we could still see it trailing us in the mirror but this time it was trailing us from an aerial position. I freaked. I released my express fear and floored it. It was that feeling when you knew something about to happen any second but you're still trying to get ahead while you can. For those who play PUBG or Fortnite, you know when you're outside the battle circle and storm circle is closing in on you and you're trying to make it before the storm catches you knowing it's coming faster than you can run and

you're expecting it any second to hit you but you don't stop for anything yeah that's exactly how i felt and i just knew something was about to happen to us that night i was creeping up on a quarter tank of gas with a bum tire i just got 10 extra hours of constant driving on. I was mad, upset, scared, and determined all simultaneously, and I'm going to be completely honest. I sat here for 30 minutes trying to remember what happened after that, but I honestly can't. I really, really can't, and it's giving me a really sick and nauseous feeling. I remember the whole trip up to a tee until that happened and I remember being sad, highly irritable, incredibly anxious for the next week. From that

night I just remember making it to a small gas station after that 69 mile stretch I just did. I talked to a local weird looking guy, definitely somebody I'm not used to seeing. Rough, gritty looking guy, brownish red head and wore some extremely thick opticals. I told him about our trip and what we saw in the desert and that I don't really remember what happened after I saw it. He chuckled and said, you made it out guys, they didn't keep you for long. I looked at my girlfriend and we made awkward nervous chuckles. You can tell we just did it not to be rude by laughing at what seemed like a dark humor joke. I asked, how much more desert do we have to drive through? He says about 45 minutes before we run into our first big city south of Albuquerque. I'm like dang, but that's 45 minutes seemed a lot better than another two hours so I threw in my 15 bucks

and got back on the road. All this point I knew we weren't going to make it back to Arizona with the amount of gas we had. With a blink of an eye after we left the desert gas station in the middle of nowhere my phone service cut back onto my relief surprised, I instantly grabbed it and told my girlfriend, call your dad. She told me she had just lost her phone before we departed from Wisconsin, so we only had my phone. Her dad picked up and decided to meet us in Las Cruces, New Mexico, and we're heavy recreational smokers on top of work and sports and that's what we do to relax. All our family knows it, so her dad had some medical-grade stuff waiting for us when he met us in Las Cruces. Telling him about our

experience, he laughed about it and said, you sure you guys didn't smoke before that happened? We both laughed and said no, and he didn't really take the whole situation too serious. After rolling a nice one up and taking a few deep satisfying hits we were back on the road again and a few hours from our destination when I started to really think, what just happened? How did we lose a whole hour and a half of time? As much as I believe in the paranormal, I am still not convinced in the whole alien abduction thing, but that crossed my mind and for the next week, I got these unusual random emotions and my girlfriend and I had weird marks on our chest, wrists, ankles, and neck. Both of us. It was definitely nerve-wracking and smoking a little bit helped me uncover little details following that,

but nothing added up. I don't know what happened that night, and I know some of you guys might think that wasn't scary, or I want to know what happened. Well, if this was made up writing, I would have made it much more intense and crazy, but this is very true, and I want answers as much as some others might. If you guys, and I mean anybody, has traveled in that area or that stretch of freeway in the middle of the night and have experienced anything similar, please, I want to hear it. I can't be the only one with this experience. I should have just listened to my phone and definitely my instincts and took the original route. Though we're good now,

for some reason that experience still produces fresh fear and anxiety, and it's driving me nuts. I told the story about my haunted childhood home, and now I would like to share something that recently happened to me. A few months ago my wife and I moved back to our home state from Texas and had to stay with my mom until our finances got back in order. Long story short my wife and I had to expend all of our savings fleeing for our lives. I'll tell that story later because it was definitely a life changer. But when we moved in with my mother the place was absolutely disgusting.

My lazy older brother lived there before us and brought bed bugs into the room we stayed in, forcing us to sleep in the living room until we finally moved out a couple of months later. During that time, we would have to be up every day at 6, drive an hour to the next city and get home that night around 1900. It was exhausting for both of us and it got to the point where my symptoms from my TBI would flare up leaving my wife to help me get up in the morning. One morning in particular I woke up five minutes earlier than my alarm and decided to close my eyes hoping to catch some more rest. I heard my wife in the bathroom getting dressed followed by the door opening and her walking past me and into the kitchen. I specifically remember I had

my eyes squinted open in time to see her small silhouette walk past me. She was pulling her hair back into a ponytail. I stayed awake after that because she was making so much noise that I groaned at the fact that I was now getting up two minutes earlier than desired. When I sat up on the couch I realized that she had kept the kitchen still dark and the only lighting in the room was provided by the bathroom door left slightly ajar. The noise in the kitchen stopped too so I called out for her. When she didn't respond the second time I went to the kitchen and no one was in there. I then went to the bathroom and saw her putting on her makeup. I asked her if she was just in the kitchen and she said no. I thought it was weird because I saw someone walk into the kitchen.

I even heard pots and pans clinging together. I went back to the kitchen and just stared at it. Everything felt false, like someone was hiding and preparing to jump out. I ended up ignoring it and going about my day. Months after moving out we met up with my godparents and my godfather informed me that a woman OD'd at the condo and my mother just never told us about it. She died on the couch my wife and I slept on. I'm pretty sure I saw her that morning getting up with us to start her day too. I'm a 12 year old girl and at this time I was around 7 so a few years back and this was in broad daylight as well.

I used to go back and forth to my mom and dad's house. I hated going to my mom's because she would neglect me and because it was in the middle of the city of Tent City, aka Seattle, and my dad would usually park his jeep near the apartment complex, but it would usually be across the street. So it was a pretty normal day. We started waiting after my dad parked the car and I tried not to cry. And let me clear this up. My dad is a big dude, meaning he's pretty buff. He has a shaved head and pale skin with freckles and bright blue eyes. My friends and other people think he's intimidating because he doesn't really smile in public and when he looks at something

far away, he glares. But anyways, some homeless people walked by, and some regular citizens, just like normal. I'd look out my window in the back, then peeking out of the front passenger's window, staring. I felt like something was about to pop up out of nowhere. I just had that sinking feeling in my stomach. Then my eyes widened as I see a man with frizzy black hair, bloodshot eyes, and with a long t-shirt and long baggy shorts walking up to my dad's cars, eyeing me down as I sat in my car seat getting scared.

He jogged over to the passenger window and started banging on it like he was going to die. The window was cracked open. He started to pry it open, still looking at me but always glancing at my dad. So my dad had this pepper spray at all times anywhere, especially in Seattle. So as this guy is asking for money and food, banging on the window, my dad was spraying pepper spray at him while I was crying insanely crazy in the back because I thought my dad was going to get hurt. He backed off and screamed obscenities over and over again. Once the guy opened his eyes, his eyes were even more bloodshot. He looked

insane, like he wasn't before. He ran off, bumbling into every person in front of him. Thankfully, my dad didn't get hurt and I didn't either. The scary part is right before he ran off, he mumbled, I'll be waiting for you. I didn't know what that meant and I was so confused. But then later that night I was with my mom playing with her boyfriend's cat. My mom and I hear a knock on the door. She gets up and walks over to the door looking through the peephole. After she looked she locked the door quickly and she had a worried face. I would ask, who's there?

And she'd reply saying, it's that homeless guy. My dad told my mom what happened and that's how she knew. I was horrified. Now I knew what he meant when he said, I'll be waiting for you. I had a sudden sinking feeling again. The rest of the night was fine, no more disturbances, but my mom's cat in the middle of the night started meowing loudly at the door sitting next to it, and her cat never does that.

We've been on edge, and I truly hope that that homeless man never returns or waits for us, again. I believe I was about 16 when this took place, so I'm guessing it was in the spring to summer of 2001. It was either a Friday or Saturday night when I got a text, asking what I was was up to and if I wanted to go hang out. I have no idea who the text was from as the number wasn't saved in my phone and didn't have a name at the end of the text. I text back and got a call. Picking it up I hear my friend Ong's voice. I was happy to hear from her as we went to secondary school together. I went on to college and she decided to do other things so we didn't see each other regularly anymore. She didn't have social media and refused to have a mobile phone. I praised her for finally getting with it and getting a phone. She burst my bubble when she said it was a friend's. We had a quick chat. It was probably about 10pm and I can't be arsed to

get ready so I declined and said another time. Around 12am I got a text. I thought she was contacting me again. The text read something along the lines of, hey this is Daniel, Ong's friend. I'm bored and stuck here until Ong wants to leave. Hope you don't mind me texting you. I didn't at this age. I used to be up till stupid o'clock on the internet and as he was a friend of my friend I didn't see a problem. So we text for a bit. It was kind of nothing this conversation. Around 2 a.m. or so I get a call. It's him. He said I sounded nice and that he wanted to have a chat. Okay cool I'm still wide awake so we had a chat. It was alright. We had a laugh. Talked about nothing much for a while and then said goodbye. Next morning I get a text from him. I reply. He texts me all day and rings

me again later. I found out more about him that he works in the local shopping center in a certain store I went to all the time. The kind of stuff he likes which is nothing like me but whatever. We talk about where we live, as we live in different towns about 20 minutes apart by bus. At this point, he knows what I look like, as Ung has shown him photos of us she had, but he also had seen my Friendster page, which had current pics of me. He, like Ung, didn't have a social media back then, so I didn't know what he looked like, but he described himself. Could have been literally any boy in southeast London at that time. I didn't really care what he looked like as I wasn't

interested like that but I had no problem chatting. So this carries on for a week or two. Him texting me, calling me, find out about me, asking loads of questions which at the time seemed harmless. Around this time I had time off college for Easter holidays and he starts saying we should meet up as we are both free. I tell him I can't as I have to do some coursework. This was only half true. I did have coursework but I always leave it till the last minute so was literally just being lazy sitting around the house. He clearly didn't get the message as he started to text me constantly. If I didn't reply fast enough for him, he sent more texts and would call. I was like, dude,

I'm so busy trying to do this. When I have time, I will text you. After a few days of that, I got a text saying, I have to go do XYZ. I'm in your area. Let's meet. I told him I was busy and couldn't. He said that was okay but then kept bombarding me with texts urging me to meet him. No. Two days later I get a text saying he is my area again we have to meet. I say no. The end of that week he is there again and again. No. The start of the week he starts again about being in my area. I ignore the text this time. Later on that day I get a call from a local area number. I pick up and it's him. He says he is here and wants to hang out and that I didn't reply to his text. I tell him that I'm not home and I've

been flat out and that I will text him when I'm free. I found out the number he called from was a public telephone box on the main road that connects to the road I live on. The constant texts were annoying but I let them slide as I had no intention on meeting him and it was only a text. But to find out that he was actually literally in my area and knew round about where I lived, all the questions he was asking before that seemed harmless made sense now. He was narrowing down where I live to the street. As I have a college at the bottom of my road and a park at the top he knew this. He knew what bus I got from college and to

the stop I got off at which further narrows down the part of the street I lived on. He used to ask things about the clothes I wore and accessories I had, what patches etc were on my backpack. So he would definitely know it was me if he saw me. No, this was not cool at all. I told him that I am not meeting him anytime soon, that I am busy and that he needs to chill out as I don't need the hassle. This really put me off wanting to speak to him, as it was so weird and I really should have told him to buzz off at this point, but when you really don't care about the person other than to have a chat with I just thought if I lessen the contact he will get bored and buzz off on his own accord. School

started again and I felt safer knowing that he couldn't just be in my area. He had college quite far from me so I wouldn't run into him but the shop I usually went to which was near my college I avoided as there was nothing in there I couldn't get elsewhere and didn't really go into the shopping center unless I had to and that would be during school lunchtime so thankfully he wouldn't be there. This wasn't because I was scared I just didn't want to meet him and I was starting to get angry the more I thought about it and didn't want to be nasty to him. So the text continued over the next few weeks. I wouldn't reply to the majority of them and when I did they were polite and stated that I had exams soon. I

didn't want the distraction. I then started to ignore his messages. They didn't stop. Another phone number I didn't know texted me. I was like who is this And of course it was him from his mom's phone. And he was angry that I'd replied to that text and not his. Now this was becoming a joke. During this time, one Saturday night, my mom rang me as I was coming home from a gig. She told me a boy I went to primary school called Morley rang to speak to me today and asked if he could call again. And before the call ended, asked if I had a boyfriend. I was like what? Morley used to like me back in primary but we hadn't spoken since we left school at like 11 but our moms still chatted occasionally so I had no clue what this was all about. I get a call from

Morley the next day. He tells me he is sorry for ringing me but he really needs to ask me a question. So he asked me if I had a boyfriend. I said I didn't. He then asked if I knew someone named Daniel. I said yes, that I had been speaking to someone called Daniel but what started out as a pleasant chat and some texts had turned into way too much. He then went on to tell me that Daniel goes to his sixth form and is loosely associated with the friend group as no one really likes him. Boys being boys, they were talking about girls and Daniel went on to talk about his girlfriend. They asked questions about her and he told them who she was, what she looked like, what she was into, where she lived.

He didn't think much of it. When he came back to school after the holidays, he had a bunch of clothes in his bag. They asked him where he was going, as they wear a uniform, and he was bragging about how he had come straight from hers as he stayed around her house lots during the holiday and told them in detail how he would be intimate with her and got to all sorts. He used to entertain them with stories about her all day and after a while finally showed them her picture. My picture. Morley was livid on the phone. He said the stuff Daniel was saying that we had done was just plain nasty and the stuff he was saying about me he

didn't think was true and wanted to confirm. He told me he would ring me back in a few days. Daniel was still trying to speak to me. After hearing from Morley what he had been up to, not going to answer clearly, I set the number to divert. I don't know if you could block numbers on my phone back then. If it could, I didn't know how. I ignored the text he sent me. I didn't even open them. I got home from school Monday afternoon and at about six o'clock I get a call from Morley who again was angry but was delighted. He told me he just got home and that Daniel had come into school with clothes in his bag again that morning and said they had been staying at mine and that we were doing all sorts of things at that point. And Morley in front of

everyone was like you have never been to her house. He was like of course I have and Morley was like well it must have been a Wendy house as he knows for certain that he has never been to my house as he knows me and had spoken to me yesterday and that I am not his girlfriend. In fact he has never met me only spoken to me and how I refused to meet him and have been pretty much ignoring him as he kept turning up where I live to try and spot me. This didn't go down well, obviously, as he had been made to look like a complete idiot. That night, my phone wouldn't stop with texts and calls from his mom's number. He wouldn't stop calling. I told my mom everything after Jay called as she wanted to know what it was about. I gave the phone to my mom at 11pm and she picked up and he was sounding all in a panic

saying he needed to talk to me. She said no, I was in bed, how inappropriate it was to call at this time and not only that but to not call again. Number put on divert and I was still getting voicemails. I text him and told him to leave me alone that it really is enough now. I know what he did and that I don't want to know him. He went quiet till around 2am when he started calling again from a third number. I was asleep and my mom was awake. The call woke me up so I called her in and she picked up the phone and went mental at him. She said she knows all about it and to leave me alone or there will be trouble. He still texted after that. My mom was beyond livid and at 6 a.m. she rings his mom's mobile, woke her up, told her all about what her

son was up to. She was initially angry to be woken up so early but when my mom laid it out she just went quiet and was like I'm sorry I will deal with it. I didn't hear from him again after that. Ung called me. I didn't speak to her since that first night about probably just over a month and a bit before and said she found out what had happened. I think from his mom as she wanted to know the validity of the call she received and was incredibly sorry that he wasn't even really her friend. They knew each other from primary school and he lived close and that he just turned up at her house and imposed himself on her and her mom would always let him in despite her warning her not to as she liked him so she just put up with him. She did say that in the past when he was in

secondary school he became obsessed with a girl in their area and used to effectively stalk her and that her mom complained to his but he was young then and didn't think he did stuff like that anymore. Clearly he never stopped. My husband spent the better part of 2004-06 in Iraq and was going to further his service, until we got a tip from his former squad leader at Fort Knox. Dude, don't. He doesn't talk about it much and I don't ask him to. His service dog is named Brother,

is a full-blooded greyhound and is around 8 months old. Still a puppy really. The moment we picked him up he had spent 24 hours a day with my husband. It wasn't until recently that we had to let him sleep in a different room, too hot for puppers as of late. AC is this dog's fourth best friend, food is second and I'm third-ish. Brother has slept on the couch for about a week. Back to story time. The house we currently live in was only owned by one other family. The owner of the house was named John. I know a lot about John just from googling him. His military records write down to his birthplace. His wife passed recently. I met John in the garage about a month into living there. I was laying in our tiny grasshopper style

camper and looking out the open window. I saw the grey tuft of hair peek over the side, followed by a wrinkly forehead, a pair of gleaming blue eyes and crow's feet on both sides of his face. He was not see-through. I thought someone was in our garage. People have been known to be curious about the setup in our camper. He wasn't threatening. In fact, I'd be happy to talk with him. Once I scooted out the door, he was gone. That's when I did my research, just as I did on my childhood home. John doesn't bother me or my husband. It's more like an acceptance. He doesn't come in our room, just stays in the living room and kitchen and the office room that

he plays chess in. I know the noise a glass chess set makes. I'm a nerd. Brother has been more nervous in the house recently. He gets excited to leave when he used to be content being a couch potato. Two days ago I had a doctor's appointment. My husband wasn't confident with walking him in a heavy traffic area yet, so brother got his Kong. Once he gets the Kong he's more like, bye, see you whenever. Once we get home he was excited to go to the backyard, did his usual laps, then he stood at the door trembling. Yesterday he looked through every room, we took three trips and needed it every single time. This hasn't been a problem before,

am I going to have to ask John not to harass our dog or flat out tell him to leave? I'm not sure how receptive you all will be to considering this a scary story. This is not a tale of horror or tension. Instead, it's a very short yet dreadful recount of something that happened when I was just a little boy. It's a flash of memory with no discernible beginning or end. Instead, the real terror is the implications and how it shifted my perception of what is considered safe in the world and how it should shift yours. I'm not sure of the exact age in which this memory takes place, but I was young, probably not even a preteen. I grew up in Washington Heights in New York City,

essentially the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I was a 90s kid, born in the mid-80s. Now, I'm not sure about how it is now because I live in a different state, but back then, neighborhood was not so great. Drugs and gangs were normal, and seeing red and blue bandanas hanging out the back of baggy jeans was just another thing. As a result, I was sheltered. Not allowed to go out much because, honestly, there wasn't anything worth going out to. So while I was used to seeing and hearing certain things, I was thankfully shielded by my mom from ever actually experiencing any of it. This memory is one of those times I heard something.

Like I said, there is no build up to the moment, I just remember it, just a flash in time. The moment is me lying in bed in the middle of the night, sheet pulled up to my chin. I was on my side facing the window. It was a large window because it was where the fire escape was and at the moment the blinds were up, letting in the orangey glow of the streetlights outside. I'm not sure why the blinds were up, letting in the orangey glow of the streetlights outside. I'm not sure why the blinds were up or how much they were drawn, but I do remember that glow. I was wide-eyed and listening, listening to a man I could not see somewhere out in the street. We lived on the fourth floor, so my view was just of the apartment building across the way.

The man had a Hispanic accent, not surprising since Washington Heights was predominantly Dominican. He sounded older, maybe middle-aged, approaching elderly, but it was hard to tell. It was hard to tell because he was wailing and moaning. The only word he could occasionally call out was help between his exasperated groans. He sounded in so much pain. I just listened and waited for their voices or for any kind of commotion or response, but there wasn't any. I remember it went on for quite a while. Now, at some point there was a response, of course, but I just don't remember. My memory ends and stops there. I knew there had to be some kind of response because the story of what happened came out.

Apparently a cab driver got into an argument with his patron when dropping him off. They both stepped out of the vehicle and the patron stabbed the cab driver before fleeing. The cab driver then just lay there calling for help. He lay there and I listened to his voice echoing empty off the surrounding brick buildings. I was transfixed by the noise. At the time, I didn't know why I was fascinated by it, but as I got older, I realized why. You see, I lived on the cross street that connected two main streets, Amsterdam and Broadway. The street was one way, so it was small and narrow,

and along both sides ran four-story apartment buildings crammed tight next to one another, all inhabited, and it's New York City. It really does never sleep. Granted, my area didn't buzz like Times Square in the middle of the night, but people were up. My point is, there was no reason that man should have been calling out for more than 30 seconds before someone responded. Just within his 500- foot radius had to be dozens of people, all inside their apartments. That was what was so fascinating, the silence that accompanied his calls. Fast forward to me sitting in psychology class my freshman year of college and I am reading a textbook in class about the bystander effect. The concept was appalling to me as I read. If you don't know what the bystander effect is,

it is essentially a phenomenon that will shadow your entire sense of safety in public places. It is an event where individuals are less likely to help a victim when others are around. A classic image and one I saw in the textbook is of a man sprawled out on the sidewalk of a busy street in midday with people walking around him. The book gave an example of a woman who was dragged through the streets of a suburb in broad daylight by an assailant. She was kicking and screaming and the man assaulted her. I believe she was even killed. And no one called the police. No one came outside. Everyone closed their blinds

because they were afraid of and thought, well, someone must have called 911. This concept haunted me for days because I, will again reiterate, lived in New York City where sprawled out homeless people or druggies or drunks or whoever were everywhere. How many times have I walked by an unmoving body in the train station? How many times have I seen someone being harassed in a crowded train car and everyone just looked away? Looking back now, I think the concept hit me so hard because I subconsciously linked it to that memory of the whaling woman. From then on, till this very day, I always stay aware of my surroundings with that phenomenon in mind. Now, you might still be wondering where the horror is.

Well, I want you to imagine that you are being followed by a very creepy person. So you duck into a busy coffee shop and feel at ease. I mean, how many of these subreddit stories talk of situations like that? Now imagine that person just comes over and pulls out a knife. What do you think is going to happen? Do you honestly think someone is going to risk their own life to wrestle down that man for his knife just to save you? No, think about what happens after he stabs you. Believe it or not, he is most likely going to just walk out that shop with people cowering away from him. Now you are

bleeding and people are finally starting to help. 15 minutes go by and you realize no one has called the ambulance because everyone assumes someone else did it. Like I mentioned I've ridden public transportation and seen examples of this a few times. People look the other way because they are afraid. I stepped in a couple of times, but I remember I was terrified each time. And I definitely let some stuff go, because you honestly have to judge and assess the situation and be realistic. This is the reality. That the reassurance you feel being in a public place is an illusion. Look at it logically.

By feeling safe in public, you are essentially placing your trust in complete strangers. You are literally relying on their heroism. And that is ridiculous. Would you jump in and save and help a man being pushed around by a huge muscular guy over six feet tall? Or if he had a weapon? Doubtful. But this is what you choose to believe for yourself. Look around the next time you are outside. Those are the people you are entrusting your life with when danger hits at that moment. And remember, the more people around, the less likely you will be helped. That's the dread that this early childhood memory instilled upon me. Knowing that most of us are wired for self-preservation. Knowing that if you are laying out in the street, bleeding out and wailing

weakly for help, nearby bystanders will just close their blinds and raise the volumes of their television, and they will feel no guilt because, after all, someone will end up helping, right? As a child, I've always been able to experience the world around me differently than others could. For example, when I was a toddler, during bath time my mother would leave the door open and let me bathe alone. That's when this small couple would check on me by peering their heads around the corner and asking if I was okay. It would never fail to make me smile because I felt how much they loved and cared for me. I always said yes and then they would tell me goodbye and disappear until my next bath. It wasn't until I was around five or six when it dawned on me that they weren't human and none of this was normal. So at the next bath when they appeared again I was terrified. I think they picked up

on it because they never returned after that. Now when I say this couple was small I mean they had the proportions of a modern human but were the physical size of a barstool and even though their faces were blurred I could tell that they were genuinely happy when they saw me. Perhaps they were my spiritual guardians, and I was lucky enough to see them. After they left, I was plagued with horrible night terrors that were always riddled with endless death, blood, and demonic entities. It was for this very reason that I grew up absolutely mortified

of horror films until I was in high school. Every once in a while, I would also be taunted by something that would whisper my name at night and watch me sleep in my bedroom. These events resulted in me sleeping in my mother's room until I was in middle school. When I turned seven my mother moved my brother and I to a house in the suburbs and that's when evil things, for lack of a better phrase, picked up. I can't share everything that happened because I can't remember it all, but I will recount my most horrifying events. My mother and brother never believed me when I said that there was something wrong with our house, but my favorite cousin did. Every time she would come over for a sleepover, she'd stay by my side.

I specifically remember when she was getting ready to take a bath and told me to go with her because something is wrong with your house and I don't want to be alone. It was reassuring that I wasn't the only one who felt this, but it sent shivers down my spine because I had to live there. Since I was the youngest and my mother worked late, whenever I got home from school I would be alone until about 8 o'clock. My brother would often go to a friend's house then return after school so I would typically finish up my chores before watching TV. Instead of a basement we had a lower den area that was adjacent to the kitchen. I would often wash dishes while watching the TV in

the den. This one night, I was watching Spongebob, and I remember specifically it was the hash slinging slasher episode, and for some reason, I felt freaked out. After it ended, Nick at Night came on, and I felt like watching the brandy version of Cinderella. If you haven't seen it, it's fantastic. I went into the den and switched the TV over to VCR mode and right at that moment, I was hit with a wave of overwhelming dread. I somehow knew that the moment I pressed play, all of the lights would go out. I tried to shake it off as me just being a squishy softy and pressed play. All of the lights in the den flicked out. It sounded like the breaker was

hit to intentionally cut them off. My body reacted and I tripped upstairs, grabbed my cat, and yanked my dog into my mother's bedroom. Our dog, Coco, wasn't allowed in her room and cowered by the door, but I didn't care. We sat in there until my mom came home. There were multiple instances throughout the years where I would hear voices, footsteps, doors creaking open but nothing will ever compare to what I saw before we moved out. I was 13 at the time in my mother's room and trying to fall asleep. My mother had this ceiling fan above her bed and for some reason it captivated my attention. I don't know how long I stared at it until something dripped from the center. It looked like wet black tar as it began

taking shape above me. I was frozen, absolutely mortified. The dark mass finally opened its eyes. I will never forget they were a piercing yellow and mimicked the shape of the snakes. It dripped down closer to my face, almost a foot away, and smiled. Jagged white teeth revealed themselves to me under the glow of the pale moonlight that crept in between the drapes by the bed. I was so frightened that I couldn't move and all I could do was watch this demon move closer to me. I'm not sure if I was trying to decide whether or not it was a dream but I didn't want it to be reality and unfortunately it was. It was inches away from my face when my body finally reacted. I shut my eyes and cried out for my mom. She is a very heavy sleeper so all she did was mumble what was wrong. I sobbed and incoherently whimpered that there

was something in the ceiling fan. I just remember her being annoyed and saying something before leaning up and cutting on the fan. My eyes bulged as I watched the demonic mass fling onto the floor. I must have stayed up for hours waiting for it to crawl up the bed and end me but it never did. I eventually fell asleep and I never saw the creature again. I'm 26 now and I have experienced so much more paranormal stuff since then like my wife's abusive ex-girlfriend's spirit tormenting us but I'll share that one and others later. In the late summer of 2017 began a strange phase in my life that led to a sequence of paranormal events that haunt me to this day and will haunt me forever.

From about August to October is the timeline for these events. I started watching these videos on YouTube about stupid 3am challenges, knowing most of them were fake. However, a few really did intrigue me. One known as the closet game especially and the use of the Ouija board. In my garage I played the closet game in the small room within the garage. Nothing really worked but I do recall always getting bad vibes from that room ever since then. I started playing with the Ouija board first with friends, then started playing it alone to see if it would work. I know you are never supposed to play these alone and I still did it. I played so often, talking to many different entities. Eventually I started talking. To Zozo. I knew Zozo was bad from the get-go. I've seen all about him

on YouTube and read up extensively doing my own research on what the name was based from and why they use it. I say they because, like you, I also believe that Zozo is not a real name. I believe that it's a trick name bad spirits use to gain power. I eventually became obsessed with the board and Zozo, speaking to him almost every day and night just casually laughing as he threatened me knowing that he really couldn't do much. That's what I thought at least. However I started to notice some changes. One night I decided to play the Ouija board in the room I play the closet game in. After all, it did give me bad vibes, so I, being the idiot I am, decided sure. As I played alone in this room by myself, there sat an old TV that was not plugged in.

I could see my own reflection somewhat cloudy in the TV but it was easy to make out features of myself. I began to play the board and as always Zozo appeared. Whenever I would talk to him I never had fear and I knew he was a demon. I believed he knew I knew this and the fact that I was still talking to him made him somewhat calmer. He was always very calm with me and when I would ask questions he would respond respectfully. Me and him would tease each other often. I asked where he was sitting and the planchette pointed directly in front of me where the TV was. I asked if he could do something in some way to show himself to me and he moved swiftly to yes. I quickly asked what he was going

to do and the planchette moved to the center of the board and moved forward. I didn't understand at first but I realized that he was pointing. I looked up at the TV and watched in horror, disbelief and awe as my own reflection began to morph into a horrific creature. It somewhat still held some of my features, i.e. my hair and clothes. However, my eyes went pitch black, looking like holes. It was like staring into a deep abyss. The eyes were not just circular, they seemed like they were dripping almost. The darkness slowly dripping down out of the reflection's eyes. The mouth was hilariously enough exactly like the scream mask.

It looked horrific horrific but also cliche so I'm not sure if this was generally an experience or not but it was very interesting to say the least. On another day my friend came over and me and him were smoking in my garage. I know again that you are never supposed to play the Ouija board in an altered state of mind but at this point I did not know that Zozo had influence over me. I go to play the board asking my friend if he wanted to join. He politely refused and I played alone again talking with Zozo. I got bored of course as I always talk to Zozo and decided to just put the board away. I got out my box of knives and was showing my friend my collection. We started feeling this weird energy in the air,

like static. You know when you feel static electricity pulling your hair towards it, it was like that everywhere. I thought that it was just me so funnily I went to touch my friend to shock him. However it didn't work. He was also feeling this static energy and as quick as it went, it seemed to vanish. I started spacing out after this. Apparently I had grabbed one of my knives and very slowly put it to my neck and started leaning my head on it, as if it was about to slice my own throat. When I came to, I felt the knife pressed against my neck and was confused, my friend not paying attention and on the computer.

At that moment I knew immediately that I could no longer play the Ouija board, promised myself that I would never play it again and put it away in my closet. I about three times a week would find myself unaware, reaching for the board even though I promised I would never play this. This is when I realized I was under some sort of demonic influence. I have since cleaned myself of this and am okay now but I still have one more story. One night I was sneaking out of my house and I went to hop the gate that leads into the alley so I could get out of my backyard. Once I hopped the gate I started walking out of the alley when I extremely distinctly heard a loud whisper come back in a sinister tone. I screamed like a little girl and ran in my car to get out of there

and the same night once I got home at around 3 a.m. at the time I wasn't aware it was 3 I decided to open my third eye in my bathroom. A lot of people have their own opinions about whether it works or not and I'm fully aware of people have their own opinions about whether it works or not and I'm fully aware that people have their doubts and that's okay because I didn't believe it at first either but it does work. Anyways back to the point. I was opening my third eye and right when I felt the energy very furiously tingling my forehead as it opened I heard a demonic laugh. Three little laughs that sounded like they were from a horrific creature. I ran out of the bathroom and felt a malicious energy behind me.

I ran to my room and closed my eyes and prayed so hard to ask God to forgive me because I did something that I shouldn't have and asked him for help. Immediately, I felt the horrible energy dissipate. I haven't dabbled in the paranormal much since but I do still have odd occurrences here and there. Thanks for hearing me out. I was at the clinic with my mom to grab some medicine for what I am currently going through. My mom had went to the other side of the wall behind me to talk to a woman quickly as I waited in line to confirm who I am so they can either get started on making my medication or give it to me.

The line wasn't really the line you imagine. Basically yes everyone was waiting for their turn but it was only me in line waiting for the lady in front of me to finish at the computer with the doctor so I could go. While waiting, a man comes in. He is clearly in his early 60s. I could tell that from the small glance I gave him when he entered. Instead of standing or sitting anywhere in the room, that the size of a small living room where you could literally go anywhere, he decides to go right behind me. Now that would have been okay if it wasn't for the fact that he was so close to me that I could feel his breath. The warmth sent chills down my spine. I could just tell he was looking at me, all of me, not missing so much as an inch. He let out a soft, satisfied stretch of

mmm. I could hear his leather jacket rub against itself. This guy dressed sort of like a creep too. He had a shirt, sweatshirt and a brown leather jacket to top it all off. He wore a hat too. The thing is it's an extremely nice day out which made it odd he would wear so much and he just seemed so concealed and on purpose. I am a 14 year old female but I'm short and skinny so I look 11 or 12. He then continues to get closer to me. You can tell because his breaths begin to get so much more powerful and audible. He then silently moans at me and backs up. I would not necessarily say I was frozen in place.

I'd say I was shocked and disgusted but I was more waiting for the moment he'd touch me so I could turn around and hit him. Almost on cue from when he backed up my mother turned the corner. My mom also looks like a college student aside from being in her mid-30s so I'm sure he was a tad bit confused at that although I could not tell because my mom brought me to a line in a different spot saying I was in the wrong one. Now I would have mentioned him to my mom earlier but I didn't want to interrupt her conversation. By the time my mom finished talking with the doctor and we went to sit down he was gone. I mean he was literally gone. The line itself takes up to a minimum of five minutes and talking with a doctor can be up to 7.

My mom finished talking to the lady early but he was gone. Which means upon entering he decided to prey on me for no reason at all. Me and my mom waiting 30 minutes simply for my medicine to be made and not once did I see him come by. I thought it'd be best to tell my mom in the car about my encounter with a man. She then told me about the encounter she had recently. My mom delivers mail from many different small towns. This town was of her smallest with a population of 20 to 25 people. When she entered the neighborhood, a man she had never seen before riding a children bike was going around, which was already weird enough.

He drove the bike into a driveway where my mother assumed he went inside. She also assumed that he was just visiting family and that is why she was incapable of recognizing him. She had this job for 30 years with the same route. That is how she knows everyone if you were confused on that. Hey friends, 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, our Let's Read official and give and receive feedback from the community,

and maybe even hear it featured here on the channel. And if you want to support me even more, grab early access to all future narrations for just $1 a month on Patreon, and maybe even pick up some Let's Read merch on Spreadshirt. Links in the bio. Thanks so much, friends,

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