The Lets Read Podcast - 128: MY MOST DISTURBING PATIENT | 21 True Scary Horror Stories | EP 116

Episode Date: March 29, 2022

This episode includes narrations of true creepy encounters submitted by normal folks just like yourself. Today you'll experience horrifying stories about Insane Patients, Christmas, and Target stores... HAVE A STORY TO SUBMIT?► www.Reddit.com/r/LetsReadOfficial FOLLOW ME ON - ►YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/c/letsreadofficial ► Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsread.official/ ► Twitter - https://twitter.com/LetsReadCreepy ♫ Background Music & Audio Remastering: Simon de Beer https://www.instagram.com/simon_db98/ PATREON for EARLY ACCESS!►http://patreon.com/LetsRead Update Description

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Find a Michelin TreadExperts dealer near you at TreadExperts.ca slash locations. From tires to auto repair, we're always there. TreadExperts.ca. I'm sorry. Target was my favorite place to go shopping. I'm sad to say I don't think I can never go back there though. Sometimes when you have such a bad experience, it will ruin the love you had for a place or a store altogether. And that's what happened to me. It all started when I graduated college. I was a psychology major and I struggled to find a job.

I live in a mid-sized city and there just wasn't anything appealing to me. There weren't any jobs in my field that I could get. The only psychology job I could even find wanted 10 years of experience. So I had to take whatever job I could get. The only psychology job I could even find wanted 10 years of experience. So I had to take whatever job I could get. I ended up working at some funky call center. And I say funky because it really was a complete dumpster fire every single day. The managers had no idea what was going on. My co-workers were some of the weirdest people I'd ever seen. Most of them didn't have a college education either which made me feel really bad about myself. I had some really low confidence during this time and I felt like a failure.

I still lived with my parents and had a massive amount of student debt and I was working at a call center making minimum wage. I had also let myself go during the last few months of my senior year in college. I was really stressed out trying to pass. I just didn't have time to make salad or go for runs anymore. I was feeling really down there for a bit. And this is where James comes in. He was a really weird guy that worked at the call center too.

He had a goofy looking mustache and was a bit of a creep. I definitely saw him checking me out a few times, and I even saw him look at other girls too. A little pervy, but I couldn't expect anything less from a place like this that I worked at. Oddly enough, James was the only guy at this place that was ever nice to me. Everyone else was so miserable to be there. James had been hired a couple of weeks before I got the job there, so I guess it just didn't have enough time to make me and James completely miserable yet. There was one time when I went out for a smoke break. James joined me and started flirting with me. He definitely

had his problems but there was something about getting a little bit of attention that did kind of make me feel special. I was always a very introverted person and I hadn't had a boyfriend in over two years. It felt nice to be noticed. It wasn't long before we exchanged numbers and started talking a little bit outside of work. There were a few weeks there that I kept trying to get him to shave his mustache. I told him he would look a lot better. It took about three weeks to finally get through to him but when he did, I was surprised. He was actually a really handsome guy under that caterpillar and that was when I made up my mind. If he made a move on me, I wasn't going to say no. He never made a move on me though and I was

surprised because I was sending some pretty strong signals for him to do so. He just never did. Not even over text messages or anything. All he would ever do was flirt. It wasn't very long into that situation that I gave up on him. I figured he didn't like me. I mean honestly, what else was I supposed to think? I downloaded Tinder like everyone else. I knew my situation was bad and I secretly fantasized about hooking up with some rich guy. I didn't find a buff millionaire but I did find a really nice guy eventually. We went on a few dates and started going out together regularly and I really liked him. We're still together by the way.

But this is where things got weird with James. He started acting differently. He started doing more and more inappropriate things. I was friends with James on Facebook and when I changed my status to an in a relationship, he did one of those emoji reactions and he put an angry face. I remember seeing it and rolling my eyes. Typical men I thought. They don't want you until you have someone else. Now, something James would always do with me is send slightly naked pictures. It wasn't like full frontal or anything like that, but he would take racy photos of himself getting out of the shower or changing and things like that. That was okay when I was single, but he just didn't stop. And these new pics were much more revealing, if you know what I mean.

And I kept telling him that I was in a relationship and he couldn't do this anymore. He just wouldn't listen. He always said that he forgot and I knew he was doing it intentionally. Things also got really awkward at work. There were quite a few things that he would do that were just freaky. For example, pens started disappearing from my desk. I didn't think anything of it at first, just that I was being clumsy. But one day I happened to walk by James' desk and notice all of my pens. He also followed me outside every time I went on a smoke break.

He always played it off like he wasn't doing anything, but it was so obvious to everyone. Well, it was around the six month mark of me working at that funky call center. I had my performance review and I got a raise. I got an extra dollar an hour which I was pretty happy about. I had a few hundred dollars in savings and decided to treat myself to my favorite store, Target. I remember making a self-congratulatory post on Facebook about it. I even mentioned that I was going to treat myself to some new sheets from Target. I remember getting comments from some of my friends and former classmates. They all congratulated me and I was really excited.

Sure, I had a stupid job, but I was making the best of my situation. I remember getting to Target at about 6 or 7 on a Friday night. I went alone. I walked into the store and went over to the bedding aisle. I really wanted to pick out the best sheets for me. I am a little OCD about fabric and how things feel so I was running my hands across the sheets to find the one that I liked the best. That was when something unexpected happened. I felt a kiss on my neck. I had been so wrapped up in feeling sheets that I didn't even notice who was behind me. I immediately thought it was my boyfriend. I mean, who else would randomly kiss me in public, right? Well, you guessed it. It was James. I turned around after he kissed me and I was smiling,

but my giddiness turned to disgust when I saw that it was him. My stomach dropped and I wanted to scream, but I just couldn't bring myself to do anything. More of me was in shock than anything else. I know I must have looked so repulsed, but that didn't stop him from pinning me up against the aisle rack and continuing to kiss me. He shoved his entire tongue down my throat. It was honestly disgusting. This probably went on for about 3 or 4 seconds before I finally snapped out of it. I pulled my head away and slapped him across the face as hard as I could. I told him that I never wanted to see him again. I fell down onto my back and I just sat there telling him to please leave me alone.

He stood there though, looking down at me, smiling. James was a really freaky guy. He started getting on top of me and kissing me again and that was when I finally screamed at the top of my lungs. Someone who must have been in an aisle over or two overheard and came running. It was a man who looked like he was in his 30s. He ripped James off of me and threw him against the wall. After that, James took off. The man was really nice to me. He helped me up and made sure I was okay. He asked if I wanted to call the police and I was so shocked I just told him no in the moment.

And that wouldn't be the last time that I saw James. We still work at the same call center and my god, it's pretty awkward. I know he still creeps on my Facebook and he looks at me all the time. I'm honestly not sure what to do about it. I haven't even told my boyfriend about what happened and honestly, I'm kind of afraid to. But I seriously might have to, one of these days. The End and we're both still single. We're roommates, and we both have a really good time. We went to the same college together and have been best friends ever since we met. We have good paying jobs and live actually pretty exciting lives. We actually live in Philadelphia and absolutely love it here. So, me and Jenny have saved up a lot of money over our lives because we don't have any kids,

and we also didn't have boyfriends at the time and before you even think it no we're not together we're just very close friends who live our lives the way we want and not the way society tells us but either way we love shopping we work hard so we can buy nice stuff whenever we want that's kind of how it goes right right? We would always go on Saturday night. That was our secret shopping night. But after the virus, we were pretty much reluctant to go out. We've been working from home and we do everything we can to stay safe and stay indoors. As you might imagine, it has been extremely difficult. We live in a two-bedroom apartment in downtown Philadelphia.

Our jobs went remote and we felt guilty every time we left the house. It's been a rough little while. We got really excited when things started opening back up and we hoped and prayed that life would continue as normal. We were both stuck in this tiny apartment and couldn't do anything other than watch TV or read the whole time. It was honestly kind of miserable. But when we officially got out of lockdown, we gave it a few weeks before we went anywhere still. We may have been bored to death, but we also didn't actually want to get sick. There wasn't a massive spike in cases or anything like that, so we figured that it would be okay to

go out as long as we wore a mask. We went to all the stores we used to go to. We bought some clothes, perfume, shoes, and other girly things like that. It was honestly super fun. There was nothing like being able to go out and live again, have a good time. Sure, we were a little worried about getting sick, but we thought it would be fine as long as we wore our masks and at once, to this day, neither of us actually gotten it. But for me and Jenny, the good times left just as quickly as they had come. We were in Target. We were checking out some of the men's sports gear. Jenny's brother had been trying to impress a girl at the gym he goes to and we were trying to help him out. It was going to be a little something for his birthday.

This guy walked up to me and actually tried flirting with me. He was a little abrasive about it too. I mean, here I was standing with my friend looking at clothes and this guy just invites himself into our little thing right here. And it just rubbed me the wrong way. And this wouldn't be the only thing that would rub me the wrong way. He kept asking me questions about where I worked and stuff like that. He was trying to act like some sort of cool guy and I thought it was weird because he had to have been in his mid-twenties. I don't mean to insult myself but I definitely look my age. I had at least a decade on him and it was obvious when he looked at us. Finally he asked me for my number and I said I didn't have one.

He acted really irritated. He gave me a mean look and then he said that he saw me using my phone earlier and this is where things got out of control. He reached into my pocket and pulled my phone out. He started yelling and asking me, what is this? I told him to give me my phone back or I was going to call the police. He was obviously mentally ill or something. He finally threw my phone onto the floor and I picked it up. He was really angry and I had half a mind to just kick him in the groin, but I didn't want to have to fight him if I didn't have to. After all, he probably could have really hurt me if he wanted to and I did my best to be calm and so did Jenny. He walked away and we thought that was that. We continued browsing through some

of the stuff on the racks looking for something that Jenny's brother would like. I found a really nice pair of sweatpants that I thought would make him look really good when Jenny touched me on the shoulder. She told me to look over there. She motioned her hand in the direction and I looked over and it was the same creepy guy staring at us from the other side of the store. His hand was in his pants and it just looked like the freakiest thing ever. But the way he was standing, it wasn't obvious that his hand was in his pants if that makes sense. His arm was on the outside of the jacket and you could only see where his arm was going if you saw the front of him, and we were the only people that could see him.

I don't know what he was doing down there, but it wasn't anything that I'd ever seen before. By the way, his arm and body was moving and looked more like he was squeezing one of those stress balls than anything else. I know that might sound funny, but when you and your best friend are both women and standing there watching this, it honestly can really freak you out. I looked over at Jenny and she was so scared that she was crying. That was when I finally had enough sense to speak to one of the managers. I called over for one of the employees and told them what the guy was doing. Of course when I did he stopped what

he was doing and left the store. I went against my better judgment and didn't call the police at that point. Again not a very good idea and something I really regret. I've learned my lesson though and I won't make that mistake again. We gave it another 45 minutes or an hour before we ended up leaving Target. We decided to just kill some time and keep looking for more stuff to get. We finally shut off the bad mood that we were in and got ready to check out. The guy that was working there told us he was really sorry about that and that he would walk us to our car if we wanted. We really appreciate that and took him up on his offer. There was a decently sized parking

lot that we shared between a couple of stores on the road. When me and Jenny stepped out of the Target, we immediately noticed that the guy was still out there. He started walking in our direction once we left the store. He was probably standing there since the time that he had left the store earlier. Thankfully he darted off when he saw the target employee with us. He was a bigger guy and looked like he worked out a lot. He told us that he would call the cops and let them know about this guy after we left. We thanked him a ton. I even handed him a $50 tip for being just such a good guy about the whole situation After all, he didn't get paid to watch out for our safety

And I really appreciated that Jenny and I drove home and got there safely And that was the end of our story with that creepy guy I'm really appreciative of that Target employee and other people like him Sometimes the only thing standing between you and a predator is a selfless stranger looking out for your safety. I had a seasonal job at Target last year. Every year they bring in new people during the seasonal times to help with all of the chaos of this pending season. It's pretty standard, just about everyone was doing this. It just happened by chance that I was doing it at Target. I think

it's actually funny, I don't think I've ever actually been to Target until that job. But anyway, it was actually a night shift position. I would come in and start working at around 4am and that was one of the crucial times to get stocked up on stuff for the big shopping rush that day. Now the way we did it, it was we would get a shipment off of a truck, and all the supplies would go onto the back. We did that as fast as possible so the truck driver could get on with his next stop. Those guys were always in a rush, and once we got the stuff in the back it was up to our team to get it all organized and stocked. That was all fine and dandy, pretty standard procedure. Now there was normally a good number of people who worked this shift with me,

normally between 4 and 5 of us, with the manager somewhere else doing whatever else managers do, but here was the situation. The layout of the store was a little weird. We had so much room in the warehouse area for all the supplies, but sometimes it would be too much, like drastically overflowing. And we had this other room to put some of the stuff we just couldn't fit anywhere else. It was a weird situation because that overflow room was not very big. I think it used to be someone's office. I don't know what happened there and I don't really care either. That was the job. It was a true nightmare to organize the stuff in that overflow room. It was a really tight working space because it would

normally be two people in there doing that and the rest of the team would be outside. This room was kind of secluded as well. It was just kind of out of the way and didn't make sense to be a storage spot. Again, not my decision, just what I was told to do. It was one of these early mornings that I had to work in that overflow room with a guy I didn't know that well. He never said very much and he looked a little sketchy. I'd actually seen him walk off the premises a few times after getting a text message. It was really weird. It was never for very long either. It was like he got a text message and went outside to take a smoke break or something. No one ever said anything though, so he just

continued to do it. Honestly, none of us really cared that much. I didn't mention we came in at four in the morning, right? Well, this one morning that we were working in the overflow room, something a little strange happened. He got a text message and went outside like usual. I asked him where he was going and he just said he'll be right back. He left before I could say anything else, but I noticed he dropped something as he went out. It fell on the floor and I went over to pick it up. I could tell you exactly what it was, but it looked like a clear ziplock bag of herbs.

Honestly, they probably weren't herbs at all, but being really tired and overworked, I assumed he was a gardener and he was carrying his herbs around. I know, I know how stupid it sounds. I have a lot of friends that are really into gardening and I guess I just assumed the best case scenario. When he came back he seemed like he was in a rush. He was looking around frantically. I told him he dropped his herbs. I pointed to them on a table in the room and that was when he got really aggressive with me. He asked me if I thought it was funny.

And that was when it dawned on me that he wasn't walking around with lavender in his pocket all day. It also dawned on me that he was probably selling while he was working this shift. That would explain why he would randomly go outside every once in a while. He threatened to kill me if I said anything to anyone, and I was honestly scared to death. I didn't know what to do. Looking back, I probably should have told my manager and called the police right then, but I never really had to deal with anyone that was a criminal or anything of that sort. Of course, I didn't say anything to anyone, but now every time that I saw him, he gave me a weird look. We'll just call him David for anonymity's sake. That wasn't his real

name, but it'll work. Over the next two or three weeks, I started to observe David a little more closely. I paid a lot more attention to what he was doing and what he was looking at and how he was behaving. And after that time, I realized a few things about him. Firstly, he was definitely a drug user himself. I couldn't tell you what, but my guess is that it was something pretty hardcore. He would talk to himself like a crazy guy once in a while, and other times he would just completely zone out like he was in a different planet. The other thing that I noticed about him was that he was very unstable. Sometimes he would get really upset over very minor stuff. There was one time he

screamed at the top of his lungs because his shoe was untied and other ridiculous things like that. Now while all of this was going on, I was still living my life. I still went for runs at the local park and I made YouTube videos in my free time just for fun. I tried to forget about the whole situation with David. That was until I saw David at the park where I always ran. He was sitting on the bench staring at me dead on. I stopped mid-step. That was the scariest realization ever because it meant that he was stalking me and I didn't know what his intentions were. I didn't know how long he'd been doing it or why, I just knew that I was in danger.

I kept running and played it off like I didn't notice him, but oh boy, how could I not? Then there was one morning where it all went down. I showed up a little earlier than usual. I was always on early bird and I just hated being late. I was there about an hour before my shift started, must have been about 3 or so. I was chilling in the parking lot listening to a podcast on my phone and that was when I noticed someone pull up behind me. I parked kind of far away from the

store to not take up parking for the customers throughout the day. I just thought it was unusual for someone to park so close to me when there were spots everywhere else. My heart sank. The person behind me turned on their brights and that was when I knew it was David. My fight or flight kicked in. I turned my car off and sprinted to the store as fast as I possibly could. I knew the employee would be open and I would be able to get to safety there. David started driving after me, like trying to run me over. He probably would have gotten to me too but there was the spot where it was a line of trees in the parking lot. I ran to the other side of the trees when I noticed

that he was driving and he couldn't really do anything after that. I got inside and screamed that I needed help. Surprisingly enough, my manager was there. I explained the situation to her and we called the police. She locked the employee entrance and we waited until the police gave us the okay. Obviously, David had booked it. The cops couldn't find him either. He wasn't at his apartment. Apparently, he gave the wrong address when he applied to work there. I guess they don't check the seasonal workers very thoroughly at Target. Hopefully they do now.

And that was the story of how I almost got messed up working at Target last year, and if you're wondering, I don't plan on applying again this year. This happened a long time ago. I must have been in middle school. I don't remember exactly what grade, but around that age. I was actually a soccer player and I was your typical middle school age boy at that point in my life. Honestly, I was normal in just about every way you can imagine. I texted girls, played video games, and hung out with my friends. Pretty much my life for that time. Well, there was this one time that my mom brought me to the store. Every once in a while, she would drag me along because she needed the company. You know how parents can be. So we ended up at a strip mall with the most boring stores, as you can imagine.

The kinds of places that only a mom would want to spend money. Obviously, I was bored out of my mind. My mom tried to make small talk as we looked through random wall decor, but she could tell that I was really bored. She got kind of frustrated. My mom can be moody like that. I eventually just asked her if I could go explore some of the other stores. She said yes, but that I couldn't spend any of her money.

And she knew that I didn't have any of my own so I was just off to kill some time. This strip mall had six or seven stores and none of them appealed to me but I was determined to kill that time. I was already annoyed that I had to get dragged out on a Saturday. I thought to myself that the best thing I could do was walk around. I actually had one of those step counters way a Saturday. I thought to myself that the best thing I could do was walk around. I actually had one of those step counters way back then which I thought was the coolest thing in the world and my goal was to get that as high as I possibly could. There was a Target nearby and it was bigger than the other stores so I figured that there would be more space to walk around and with that I was off. I went into the Target and didn't even make an attempt to pretend to look at stuff. I just walked up and down the aisles like a maniac. Thinking back it must have

been a pretty funny sight. When you have someone in a store that is obviously just trying to get their step counter up it becomes really obvious that they are not shopping. I must have been doing this for about 10 or 15 minutes when an older guy came next to me. He started walking beside me. He told me his name was Larry and Larry said that he wanted to walk with me. Now being a naive kid, I didn't think anything of it and said that I would love to have the company. And that was when I started complaining about my mom. Larry began asking a series of questions that

should have really raised some serious alarm bells in my head. He asked where exactly she was, how long she would be gone and things like that. I told him I would probably have to wait for her for another hour or two before she was done shopping. That was when he offered to take me back to his place. He said that he had an Xbox and he only lived two minutes away. When he asked me that, I stopped walking. Part of me almost said yes. But then I remembered my parents telling me all about the creepy old men who try to kidnap kids. Stranger danger.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. And I told him that I wanted to go back and see my mom. He started getting really persistent about taking me for ice cream and then back to his place. I told him I didn't want any ice cream and that my mom was looking for me. That was when he offered me $100 to go with him. I just told him no and started to run away. He followed me outside. He watched me run back into the store that I had last seen my mom. The creepiest look too. This guy was truly a freak. I got inside the store and ran over to my mom. I started telling her about the creepy man and she became really concerned. She asked me where he was and then I told her that he was probably still in the parking lot of Target. We looked outside of the glass

windows and he was looking in. When he saw us look at him he walked off briskly. My mom went outside to try to get a good look at him or get a license plate but by that point he was already gone. We ended up calling the police and filing a report with them. I couldn't tell them very much though. I wasn't and I'm still not a very observant person. The only thing I could remember about him was that he had a collared shirt on and he had no hair and that his name was supposedly Larry But that was it. I asked my mom about the case years later. I guess she kept up with it to see if they ever got him. Of course, they didn't. And it really scares me that someone who was possibly willing to abduct a child is just out and about.

It really freaks me out and kind of makes me not want to go out in public very much. But anyway, that was how I was almost abducted in Target when I was in middle school. I thank God every day that I didn't go with him, because I would probably be in a really, really bad place. I had struggled with mental health issues from the time I was in middle school, mostly depression and anxiety, you know, the usual culprits. I had been working in a Starbucks as a barista. The Starbucks was actually inside of a Target. You would think it would be bad, but it was pretty nice. Anyway, I dated this one guy who may have been an actual sociopath. He had some serious problems. I haven't spoken to him in a few years now and I don't plan on reaching out anytime soon. Trust me,

you'll see why in just a minute. He actually found me out back one day. I was behind the store. I said I was going on break but I really just needed to go and cry for a little while. I was feeling really overwhelmed and depressed. I just didn't have anything to look forward to in my life at that time. I remember looking up at him. I could barely see him through the tears in my eyes. He started talking to me and he really comforted me. I told him that I thought about ending my life and was severely depressed. At the time I thought he was just a really sympathetic person, willing to help someone down on their luck. But now I know the truth.

He saw a struggling person who would be easy to abuse and that's exactly what he did to me. I vividly remember him wiping my tears away, right off of my cheek. I was so touched and his name was Mike. He really got me. It wasn't long before we had exchanged numbers and started dating. It was really great at first, that honeymoon part of a relationship was so great, but the honeymoon phase doesn't last forever, and when I started to see him for who he really was, I got afraid. I noticed that he wore a mask and I don't mean like a costume. He would pretend to be someone that he wasn't. He literally faked a personality. There were a few times that I was at his apartment and he would just start acting

really weird. It was like his true self came out and it was horrifying. He was so mean that I honestly can't even put it into words. He really did enjoy making me suffer. I remember him telling me that I wasn't good enough and that I needed to lose weight and read more and work harder and a million other things. He told me everyone in my life thought that I was pathetic. He said so many things like that and I honestly couldn't stand it. It was like he found that negative voice in the back of my head and put it on speaker. The worst I ever felt about myself was when I was with him and I totally let it all happen. Because no matter how mean he ever was to me, a part of me secretly believed that he would be the only person to ever be with me.

That I wasn't worth anyone better than him. Yeah, it was a really dark time. It wasn't too long into our relationship that he convinced me to move in with him. He actually had a nice place, but it was kind of far from my job and my parents. Because of the move, I had to drive almost half an hour one way to Starbucks. Of course he didn't care. He never did about things like that. He gradually isolated me from everyone in my life. He did it one by one. He started with some of my friends, and I might mention that I wasn't very close to them to begin with, but any contact with anyone other than him was a threat, so he would tell me that so-and-so person that I speak to once in a while

actually hates me, but sometimes he was more abrasive about it. There was one time when he grabbed my phone right out of my hand and blocked my co-worker's phone number. He was really threatening about it too. I knew that if I ever unblocked him, that he might actually do something to me. Things started escalating to the point that even I recognized that they were out of control. I knew if things continued down this path, he was going to kill me or I was going to end up taking my own life. It really was that bad. I won't bore you with every little horrible story, but he broke my stuff, cheated on me. He even joked about the fact that he cheated on me,

said I should be happy he's with me at all when there are so many other great women out there and all kinds of stuff like that. The day I realized that I had to get out was really important. I didn't really have anywhere to go though. Mike basically forced me to break off contact with everyone and he regularly checked my phone to make sure I wasn't speaking with someone who I wasn't supposed to. I reached out to my mom while I was at work, borrowed one of my co-workers' phones and gave her a call. It was really nice to hear her voice. I explained as much of the situation as I could and she said she completely understood

and that she was more than happy to let me move back home. That was a really touching moment for me. I walked out that night because Mike was out. I was able to pack my stuff and leave without ever having to say anything. He probably would have gotten me to stay somehow. He said the right words, made me feel like everything was going to be okay, the way he always does. He didn't appreciate the fact that I was gone. He was mad. He started showing up at my job a few times a week. He would always try to talk to me, convince me that things could get better.

He said that he would change and be nicer to me, but I knew that he was just lying to me. I knew he just wanted me back under his thumb. I ignored everything he said and that seemed to work for a little while. It didn't stop him. There was no way that I was going with him again. This is where things get crazy though. He really wanted me back. He showed up at my work one day. I actually happened to be on break. I was walking around Target and just killing time, honestly. As I was walking, I saw him looking through some of the glass near the Starbucks section of the store, and my heart dropped. He looked livid, like really worked up and violently kind of mad. I stopped and just stood there for a moment. I didn't know what to do. He turned around and saw me and we made eye

contact and the only thing I could think to do was run. My body spun around faster than I ever had before. I ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction and I knew that he was chasing me. It was actually weird how I got out of the situation. There is an employee door that you need a card key to get through. The Starbucks employees had them too for some reason. I think there was a glitch in the system, but either way, I was far away enough from him that I got through it and closed the door behind me. One of the Target employees asked me if I was okay. As bad as the situation was, I honestly didn't want to make a scene. I told him I was fine and just needed a minute to take a break.

I sat there for about 15 minutes and left. Mike was gone, and that was the last time I saw him. I'm not sure why he hasn't contacted me since. I'm just glad he hasn't though. He was responsible for the worst part of my life and honestly I'm lucky to have gotten out of that situation alive. Wherever he is, I just hope he isn't doing the same thing to another poor girl out there. This is hands down the scariest experience of my life. I was out driving with two of my best friends.

It was one of those wonderful summer nights where we just wanted to have some fun. We had just gotten out of the movie theater and wanted to enjoy a drive around our area. We live in a very rural area and sometimes it's nice to just drive around and see what's here. Well, it's pretty dark and everything but we were having a good time anyway. It had to have been about nine o'clock at night. We were blasting music and laughing and everything but there was a car that started following us. They weren't tailgating us or anything. They just followed us for a really long time. One of my best friends pointed out to me and I hadn't even noticed it. I asked her how long it was behind us and she said at least for 10 minutes.

I wasn't exactly sure what to do. We were pretty far out in the middle of nowhere. I remember learning about this little trick a couple of years ago. If you think someone is following you, you can take it four turns in the same direction and if they're still behind you, they're definitely following you. There weren't very many turns out there but every single turn I took, there was this car. By the time I made my third turn, I started getting really uneasy. I thought that we may have been in real danger and the mood died from there.

We turned the music off and instead of laughing, we were sitting there in dead silence. We all started freaking out a little bit more when I made that fourth turn. He was still behind us. Like I said, he wasn't tailgating us or anything, and wasn't even very close, but he was close enough to keep an eye on us. I tried getting my friends to call the police, but we were out of range of any cell phone service. I was completely at a loss for what to do there. I was scared out of my mind. My friend came up with the best idea. We could just go to the nearest store or whatever and hopefully the people there would help us if the person kept following us. Well, none of us knew where any stores were nearby. The closest one we could

think of was a Target near town, but that had to have been at least 30 minutes away. We couldn't think of anything else to do though, so that was the plan. Drive to Target. There was no way on earth I could ever describe to you the situation. It was the most horrifying thing of my life. Not only because I thought I was going to die but because I had no idea what to do when it went on for so long. 30 minutes is a lifetime when you think that a potential murderer is right behind you. I sincerely hope you never had to experience it. You get more tense and anxious with every passing moment. It may have felt that it had taken a lifetime but eventually we got there. Target was pretty crowded too which we were thankful for and this was our plan.

I was going to park my car right in front of Target and we were all going to run out and run into the store. We just hoped that someone would help us by that point. Or better yet, this guy would leave and not want to make a big scene. I don't know why we didn't think to call the police. By the way, we definitely would have had service but the whole situation was a way of stopping you from thinking clearly. I parked my car right in front of the target and we all ran in just like we were planning to do. We asked for our manager when we came across the first employee we saw. We told him that we were being chased. When the manager got there, he believed us and brought us to the employee section of the store. He called the

police for us and helped us out. Thankfully, the guy from the car didn't come in. At least, we didn't think he did. we don't really know what he would have looked like and by that point none of us were watching the car when we pulled into the parking lot when the cops got there it was really late it took them almost 20 entire minutes to get there which I thought was a little slow and then when they did show up they treated us like we were crazy one of the cops thought that we were just making the whole situation up for attention, and that really made my friend angry and I had to stop her from getting up in his face.

The manager was really understanding. He let us have drinks from the vending machine and asked if we wanted a ride home. I thanked him and told him that I was going to drive my friends back home. I don't know who was in the car and I don't know why they were following us. I just know that I never want to be in a situation like that ever again and I hope you never have to understand how terrifying it can be. I was a manager at Target and had a horrible experience with a customer one time. I always found the situation very strange. For the most part, the customers aren't very pleasant and not at all bad in comparison in some places.

I have worked with the public my entire adult life and people can be absolutely horrible sometimes. But they are a little bit better at Target. In the few years I've worked there, I never once had to call security or physically escort someone off the premises. I only once ever had to call the police on someone, and I would actually make the case that he was only at Target to creep on girls, so I'm not even sure that that really counts. But anyways, I digress. My story with that guy was actually really, really interesting, and I feel a weird combination of anger and sympathy for this one kid. He must have been about 19 or 20 years old.

Really tall. One of the weirdest looking kids I've ever seen. And I don't mean that in a judgmental way or anything. He was just really strange looking. It probably made life for him really difficult, so I can at least understand where he was coming from when he did what he did. Absolutely does not justify it or anything, but I can understand him at least, if that makes sense. It all started on an usual afternoon. I had just gotten off the phone with corporate,

and if you're wondering, yes, it's always a nightmare. I was looking forward to doing some inventory checks and what not for the day. The store has been awfully busy that week. I had a customer who wanted to speak with me. I went out to talk with her and she told me about an employee who had been inappropriate with her. I guess one of her people was helping her decide on clothes and was standing a little too close to the dressing room door. Honestly, she struck me as a drama queen. I just kind of brushed it off and told her that we would look into it and make sure our employees don't do anything like that again. But when you're a manager, you hear complaints like that all the time, and a good chunk of them are just from people who want to get

a free item or discount or something. I got another complaint that day from another customer. This one made me a little bit more intrigued. It was from someone who looked like she came from a wealthy home. Probably not looking for a handout here. She said that one of the employees had felt her while she was looking at clothes. Now that set off some alarm bells because that meant that one of the employees had felt her while she was looking at clothes. Now that set off some alarm bells because that meant that one of my workers was physically creeping on customers on the job. I told her I would look into it and I called the meeting before everyone went home. I explained the situation and said that whoever was responsible could come to my office and have a chat with me. I would go easy

with them if they admitted to it without forcing me to look into it. My personal philosophy is that people know when they do wrong, and they just want an opportunity to right their wrongs, so I try to give it to them. But everyone went home. No one admitted anything. And that was when it was on. We couldn't look at the security camera footage in the area because all of this had been going down near the dressing rooms. The closest security camera we have is on the outside rack of the clothes but it doesn't give us very much indication of what's going on near the dressing rooms. I asked one of my favorite employees to keep an eye on that area over there. He told me he would. Two days went by and he

didn't see anything. I didn't get any more complaints either. Very strange. Of course, it wasn't long before we had another complaint. I asked the woman what this employee looked like. She forgot the name on the tag but told me that it was a tall skinny guy with weird looking glasses and right off the bat I knew it wasn't anyone on my team. We didn't have a skinny guy with glasses. And immediately I knew that we were dealing with someone that was pretending to be an employee. I gave a heads up to my team and had everyone on the lookout. I remember getting a text message from one of my female team members.

She told me that she spotted someone that looked like that over by the clothing section. I immediately went over to look around, but before I did, I made sure to put on my jacket around my uniform. That way it wouldn't be obvious that I was the manager looking to bust this guy. I spotted him. This kid stuck out like a sore thumb. At first I was worried that I would be dealing with some middle-aged creep. I felt kind of bad when I realized that this was some high school or college kid being a weirdo. He was wearing what looked like a target uniform. If you look closely enough you could tell it was fake, but I guess the average customer doesn't really know the difference. I walked over to him and asked to see him in my office. The look of terror on

his face washed over him in that moment was unforgettable. He wasn't trying to run or anything and I brought him in and sat him down. From what I could tell, he was an otherwise good kid. He was going to the local community college, had good grades, went to church, the whole nine yards. I asked him why he was doing this, and he said it was because no girls in his college would date him. I tried explaining to him that being creeped to strangers by impersonating a Target employee is not the answer. I told him that I could call the police and have him arrested for what he was doing. I told him I wouldn't though. I know having something like that on your record can really mess your life up and I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he hadn't done anything

horribly bad in the store. He seemed like he got the memo. Well, he didn't though. Must have been two or three months later that I got another report about something like that. Apparently this woman was looking for a new sweater and a Target employee kissed her on the cheek. My mind jumped to the only thing I could think of and I called the police. I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt but he had dug his own hole here. He was in the same area doing the same thing as before. I don't know what happened to him after the fact, but what I can tell you is that one of the cops recognized him. I guess this wasn't the only time he was being a creep in a clothing store pretending to be an employee. But other than that one weird kid, the people at Target are very okay people. Back when I was six or seven, my uncle ended his own life, and my mom took it really hard.

She had a drinking problem before this, but she became a full-blown alcoholic after. My mom has always been a mean drunk, and I'm still dealing with the trauma from the things she said and did while I was growing up. As you can imagine, my parents fought a lot because of this. I never knew how bad it had gotten but I could still tell it was bad. My dad was staying at his parents' house and my 2-3 year old sister and I were still living at our house with our mom. When I talked to my dad about this a few years ago, he told me that he was in contact with an attorney at that time because the marriage was breaking down and he was going

to fight with all he had to get us away from her because she was by no means fit to take care of us. One night, I was in my room watching something on television and my sister was asleep in her room when I suddenly hear my dad yelling and my mom throwing up. I was confused because my dad wasn't supposed to be at the house since neither of them could stand to be around each other but I had learned that it was best to stay in my room when they were fighting so I didn't go out to see what was happening. Things were quiet for a little bit before my dad burst in my room holding my sister and told me that we needed to go to my aunt's house because she was going to watch us for a while. Again, I thought it was odd because it was probably about 10pm and we never went to anyone's house that late but I went nonetheless.

When we got to the car, my mom was strapped to the front seat, limp as a rag doll, with her mouth hanging open slightly and her eyes glassy and kind of rolled back while she made odd noises. I asked what was wrong with mommy and dad just said she was sick and he was going to take her to the doctors and that's why we needed to go to my aunt's house. I was worried about my mom but I knew she would be okay if my dad was taking her to the doctors to make her feel better so I got in my spot and put on my seatbelt while my dad put my sister in her car seat. I remember dad driving really fast, a lot faster than he usually does, but mommy was sick so it made enough sense to me. We got to my aunt's

house in record time and my aunt took my sister and I inside while my dad got my mom out of the car and carried her into the house and placed her in the chair nearest the door I inside while my dad got my mom out of the car and carried her into the house and placed her in the chair nearest the door. I remember my dad asking, have you called them? How long did they say it would take before they got here? And my aunt assuring him that she had taken care of it and it wouldn't be long now. I wasn't sure what they were talking about but I didn't really care to ask because my mom looked even worse than she did in the car and I was really worried about her and not whatever they were talking about. My aunt took my sister and I into a back bedroom and turned on the TV before telling us that she

would be back in a minute and leaving. I was too curious and worried to stay put so I left my sister in the room and walked into the kitchen that was adjoined to the living room where everyone else was pacing around and my dad was contemplating putting my mom back in the car and driving her there himself. I figured he just meant the doctor's office that we usually go to. After a few minutes I saw flashing lights outside and my dad ran out. He came back in with some emergency personnel and they started checking my mom's vitals. He looked out the open door and saw an ambulance and that's when I started to get really scared and started crying because I knew enough to know that if an ambulance showed up, something really bad was happening. That's when my dad, my aunt, and the paramedics noticed that I was there and my aunt took me back into the back bedroom and told me that I wasn't allowed to leave there until she came back. It felt like forever but eventually

things quieted down and my aunt came back. She explained that mommy had accidentally taken too many pain pills because her back was hurting and she had forgotten that she had already taken some before. She said that too many pain pills can make you very sick, so mommy had to go to the hospital and dad was going with her and we would be staying there that night. I was already a little ball of anxiety at that age, thanks genetics, so I was super freaked out. My aunt did her best to assure me that the doctors would make everything okay and that I didn't have to worry. She gave my sister and I popsicles and let us watch TV as late as we wanted. The next morning, she told me that she had heard from my dad and that mommy was doing better, but we would be staying with her for at least another

night. She then took my sister and I to pick up some strawberry milk, pretty much the only thing my sister would consume without a fight at that time, and to get me breakfast at McDonald's because their pancakes and bacon was my all-time favorite thing. The rest of the day was pretty much a blur, and I'm sure it was filled with cartoons and coloring. The next day was a Monday, but I didn't have to go to school like I normally would have, and my dad came and picked us up in the afternoon. Mom was home when we got there and dad started staying at the house again. Everything just kind of went back to normal after that except mom would only drink on the weekends from then on. She'd still get drunk but there were fewer arguments because she would stay down on the couch those nights and my dad would be in their room

with the doors locked. No one ever brought up the incident again, but it stuck with me ever since. In my late teens, I was eating dinner with my dad at some fast food place because mom and my sister were doing something else and I finally brought it up. I said, hey, remember that time when I was six or seven and mom accidentally took too many pain pills? He stopped eating and went a little pale before answering in the affirmative. I said, it wasn't an accident, huh? He sighed and said that he had really hoped that I had forgotten about that since I was so young and didn't know what was going on but then confirmed my suspicion. I told him that not only had I not forgotten, but I can still remember what pajamas I was wearing that night, color and pattern and all.

Light blue Lizzie McGuire pajamas with long dark blue sleeves, a picture of the animated Lizzie on the front with red and dark blue stars all over the pants. As stated before, the marriage was breaking down and dad was living with his parents as he prepared for an ugly divorce. That night my mom tried to take her own life by overdosing on pills that she had from a surgery but got scared when they started to really take effect and called my dad. He flew over to the house as fast as he could and started yelling at my mom for doing something like this while he held her hair back as she vomited it up as many of the pills as she could. He then got her into the car and called my aunt to tell her what was happening and that we were on our way because he needed someone to watch us and that she needed to call 911 so that the paramedics would meet us there. Her house was about halfway between our house and the near hospital. After that he got us into the car and sped all the

way to my aunt's house. My dad followed the ambulance in his car and spent the whole time I was at my aunt's house at the hospital. When my mom was stable and awake, they had a serious conversation about where they went from there. He was unbelievably angry that she would do such a thing while we were alone with her in the house. What if she didn't call him and actually succeeded in taking her own life? One of us would have woken up and found our mother's dead body. Did she even stop to think what that would have done to us? He minced no words in telling her how angry he was and that if she ever decided to pull something like this again, it had better not be with us around. Once that was out of the system, they talked things out and decided to try and reconcile, which did end up happening since

they're still together today. Again, it's not as bad as some of the others, but I'm 26 now, and that is still the sharpest memory I have of my childhood and likely contributed heavily to the fact that for years afterward I had to know where everyone was at all times so I could check on them whenever I felt like I needed to and I would scream and cry hysterically if I couldn't find one of them. I still think about it from time to time and it never fails to bring back that feeling of dread that I felt when I saw the ambulance that night. I met a guy online and we live pretty far away so I felt way too comfortable getting close to him.

I should have been more careful and wary about being friends with a stranger online but I was short-sighted. We live in different countries. I live in the United States and he lives in Korea so I felt fine getting close to him. When we first started talking he was pretty reserved and a normal seeming guy. Our friendship got weird though because after a month or two of knowing each other, he came to a neighboring city of mine because he wanted to visit some family. It was weird because I noticed that he spent a lot of time in my city rather than his family's. Since my city is actually a city and his family's city was very rural, I ignored it and believed him when he said he was bored. I introduced him to my friends and family.

He was bored, lonely, and having a hard time so I felt bad for him. He got close to a lot of my friends. Too close for me to feel comfortable and he's still in contact with some of them. He was in our city for a few weeks before going home to Korea again. While he was there, he genuinely seemed like a normal guy. He was nice, funny, and made more friends in a few weeks of being here than I had for the years I've been here. He got home and called me every day. Around this time, quarantine started in both of our hometowns so I assumed he was calling me often out of being lonely and bored. Since I too was lonely and bored I kept up with his calls.

He managed to make me feel like somehow even my best friends cared less about me because they didn't seem to want to talk to me. He made me feel more alone while still talking to me for hours a day. A few months into our friendship, I started to notice how superficial he was with me. He knew or knows so much about me, but he was very good at avoiding telling me anything about himself. He made a few comments and I thought he was being abused or something. I thought he didn't tell me anything because of that, but he started becoming different to me and I realized that maybe that's not the case. He started asking me questions like if you had to choose between me and your dad who

would you choose or what about between me and your dogs. I obviously chose my family because I had only known him for months. We were only friends anyway it's not like he was my boyfriend or husband. I don't know why he was expecting a different response than the one I gave him. He also, around this time, started doing something that irritated me beyond measure. He began hooking up with random people he'd meet in bars and stuff, but after hooking up with them, he thought that they were loose and easy. I told him he was being a hypocrite because he was doing the same thing, but he told me that I was wrong because girls who hook up with people are such and such and since he's a guy it doesn't apply to him. After arguing for a while about this I saw I wasn't going anywhere. I chose to ignore his immature attitude and assume that maybe there was a

cultural or language based barrier that prevented us from fully understanding what the other one was talking about. My strange interactions with him began to increase rapidly. He would always ask if I was around family and if I was, he wanted me to move away from them when I talked to him. I thought this was very weird as he's met my family but I also was in quarantine and was lonely. I didn't want to risk losing a friend. I would go to my room whenever I wanted to talk to him. At this point in time, when I was talking to him, he would often interject saying things like, did I ask? Why would or should I care? Or shut up, I literally don't care. I told him I didn't like that and he would always reply saying it was a joke and he was that way with all of his friends.

I was beginning to feel really uncomfortable and pathetic every time he called. It was stupid how much I let him get under my skin. He made comments about how well he knew me and that he knew so much about me. The worst part was that he wasn't wrong. Sometimes we were chatting for up to 8 hours a day. We were watching movies together over Zoom, discussing random things all the time, and he was sometimes even chatting with various members of my family and friends. At one point he got really brave. He started telling me in vivid details dreams that he had had about me. He made comments about imagining me on top of him, sitting on certain parts of his body, and him doing things to me in his dreams. I feel like I should say this so that it's a little bit clearer why this

is weird for me. Even though I'm in my 20s, not saying how old for anonymity reasons, I've never had a boyfriend before. I never had my first kiss before. I'm a virgin. I felt dirty with him saying these things to me, so I expressed that with him, but I feel like that encouraged him. He seemed to enjoy me that way too much. Multiple times, he decided to go over his sort of intimate dreams he had for me. I felt like this was weird, but I've never been in a relationship like that before, so I started wondering if maybe I was wrong that that behavior was weird. I called a friend who moved to a different state for college and asked her about it. She told me it was strange and I should cut things off. Deep down I agreed with

her but I wasn't sure how to end it. He was really intertwined with my life. He was also one of the only people my age I had consistent contact with. I didn't want to lose the only person who was actually talking to me. I didn't want to be alone. So I moronically put up with all of his odd behaviors towards me. Whenever my phone rang and I saw his name, my stomach fell into the pit of my butt. My stomach would feel the same way it feels to smell vomit. I wasn't sure about how to process everything happening in our friendship. I was putting up with a lot and I think I hit a point where I started feeling responsible.

I put myself into this position and if I leave, he has other means of access to me. I connected him to everyone in my life. I gave him easy access to me and he knows everyone in my life. He knows my address and he has friends connected to me through the school that I go to and the church that I attend. I did this to myself. I trapped myself here and now I have to put up with it. I didn't cut him off and let things progress. He started asking me to send him pictures. He wanted to picture my face every day and he wanted me to send him pictures of me in the shower and in the bath. Instead, I started sending him pictures of cute K-pop idols as a joking way to avoid his requests.

This made him angry. He would call me multiple times a day at ridiculously late hours and if I didn't pick up his calls, he'd spam call me and message me. I started getting short with him and picking up calls asking what he wanted or why are you calling me at like 3am. He hated that. He said that he didn't like that I was becoming a meaner person. He said I was hurting his feelings and I again dumbly felt bad and thought that maybe I really was the one in the wrong. I don't know when all of these things started happening but he also began making awful comments when he was upset with me. He was wishing that I would be killed. He started asking creepy questions about my sister who was a minor. He often made comments about my mouth and the things he wanted

to do to it. I told him he wouldn't get my permission and he said that he would do it without my permission. He asked more than once something along the lines of if I were to grab you and kiss you, and insert various public locations here, what would you do to me? Do you want to kiss me? He would also tell me about how he wanted to hurt some of his innocent peers. He would beat up some of his classmates for entertainment without them previously doing anything to actually upset him. He claimed to just like hurting people. He started asking me to pucker my lips at him like I was kissing him through the FaceTime camera and if he managed to make me feel terrible enough he was sometimes able to get me to do it. We FaceTimed so often that at one point I accidentally flashed my bra and another time I was

wearing shorts and accidentally flashed my cheeks. He brought these up all of the time. He talked about how squishy my butt looked and the things that he wanted to do. I fell asleep a few times during our FaceTimes and he claimed that in one of them, I moved and he was able to even see my bare chest. He told me that he screenshotted it. Even now, I don't know how many screenshots he actually has of me and whether or not he actually has a picture of that, but there's so much more and I don't know how to organize a year's worth of this stuff in my head. I'm going abroad soon to a school near his house. He knows that I'm going there and he knows when I will be arriving for and how long I'll be there.

I'm paranoid. I finally briefly skimmed over a few incidents to my parents and they convinced me to block him and I'm scared of being murdered or worse once I get there. It's my dream to study abroad and I want to work on my fluency in the language but he threatened me more than once. He's a fighter for fun, He loves violence. But now I'm stuck with the consequences of making friends with a stranger online. I'm not sure what to do. I bought a keychain that doubles as a self-protection stick. I've considered cutting off all of my hair and dyeing it, wearing a hat, mask, and sunglasses every time I'm out, and even wearing tons of clothes, hiding in crowds, and never going anywhere by myself while I'm there, but I'm not sure what to do. What do you do in this situation? How do I,

a short, unathletic, and somewhat naive girl, manage to avoid and or get away from a guy who believes he's entitled to my time? How do I stay safe when he, a tall, athletic, and violent guy, knows so much about me, possibly has photos of me, and will be living next door to my campus. If you have any advice for me, please let me know. I'm planning on posting these on a few subreddits because I'm hoping for some input from various communities. I'm not paying for therapy, but instead, I'm asking for advice. Does anyone have advice on how I should handle this situation? I'm an EMT. I have been for about three years now. I live and work in Southern California, and this particular transport happened when I was a brand new EMS worker of four months at a

private ambulance company. This company was a private BLS, or basic life support, company primarily, meaning we typically transported patients whose care provider had a contract with us. However, sometimes we would run 911 calls out of prisons, and this is where our story begins. It was late into the night at our station when I heard the tone from my radio. Unit 221, priority response to state prison for an unknown medical. Copy, wheels up in two, I replied. I walked over to my partner who was sleeping on our rec area couch. Rise sweet prince, a life needs saving, I sarcastically exclaimed. We hopped into the rig, the engine roared to life and we set off, lights blazing, sirens wailing.

As we approached the prison we killed the lights and sirens and proceeded with the routine security check. Once the guards were satisfied with the search we were given access and led through the gates and parked outside the medical bay. Gurney and medical equipment in tow, we entered the prison hospital. Now because my partner was the patient person for the last call, I was going to be primary care provider for this patient. Now though I had been a pretty new EMT, I had done a lot of prison transports in a small period of time. I've had inmates scream at me, try to bribe me, and yes, even try to kill me. So as you can imagine, I really wasn't looking for fight night on unit 221 at 4 in the morning. Regardless, I always prepared for the worst. We were escorted in by guards as usual and led into the main area of the hospital rooms, which were still fitted as cells. I was approached by a nurse, who gave me a sheet of paper with his information and most recent vitals.

I began to ask for the turnover report and why this patient required transport, and where we were transporting to. The nurse stared blankly for a moment before he said, You're going to Scripps Mercy Shores Hospital, room 329. He's going because he doesn't feel well and he needs some tests done. He shouldn't be a problem for you. Already a few silent alarms were going off in my head. Scripps Mercy Shores is a rich people hospital. I have never heard of anyone other than someone wealthy going there, let alone a prisoner. Second, not feeling well and needs tests don't

really paint me a great picture for why he needs to go and what I'll be dealing with And finally, what does he shouldn't be a problem for you mean? If he's a violent inmate or even an at-risk patient, they'd normally just say so Getting an actual report on this patient's health and medical condition was like getting blood from a stone I decided to just relent and go ahead with the transport. The prison guards brought the shackled patient out to us. Another oddity, as every other time I go in and talk with them before getting them onto the gurney. Standing before me was a tall, rather frail looking man of dark complexion,

his eyes were red and sunken. His overall demeanor was a fearful one. He was constantly shivering. He looked terrible. I introduced myself and began my whole checklist of things to ask and address. We'll call him David. He answered all my questions with a small and quivering voice. When asked what the problem was tonight, he gave a quick and frightened glance towards the guards and the nurse. I don't feel well. His reply sounded forced and rehearsed. Abuse from the staff came to mind first, but I'd address that later. I decided to just go ahead and get this guy going and I'd wrap everything up in the ambulance.

Before loading him in, I asked him the same question I asked all inmate patients. Be straight with me, and I'll be straight with you. Are you going to cause problems once we get going? He quickly shook his head no, and we were off. When transporting prisoners, one guard accompanies in the ambulance and another follows in what's called a tail car. This is for everyone's safety and ensuring that if the patient tries anything, an official guard is there to address it. I was busy writing up my report when I realized that between the confusion of the call and the last hour, I had forgotten to get my own set of vitals.

A rookie mistake. We were about halfway to our destination and the patient had remained silent this whole time. I told him I was going to take his vitals and instructed him to give me his arm so I could begin. He did so immediately, like he was trained to obey anything demanded of him, and did so with that haunting look of fear. I wrapped my blood pressure cuff around his arm and that's when I felt him for the first time. His skin was ice cold, there wasn't even a slight warmth to his skin. I asked him if he'd like a blanket but he declined. I continued with my evaluation.

I inflated the cuff, pressed my stethoscope to his brachial artery and listened for the pulse to come back to show me his blood pressure. It didn't come back. At first I thought my stethoscope was broken, so I grabbed a spare one. Same result. No pulse. I removed all my equipment and felt for a pulse myself. Nothing. I looked at him and asked if he was alright. He replied with a simple, quiet,

I'm okay, thank you. Caught off guard, I grabbed my pulse oximeter, which I used to find a heart rate and blood oxygen level and put it on his finger. After a moment of the machine reading, the heart rate came back as zero, and the blood oxygen level came back as zero. My heart dropped. I took another set of vitals to see if I misread anything but they all came back the same. Heart rate, zero blood pressure, zero blood oxygen level, zero. The only thing consistent was his respiratory rate which was

24 breaths a minute, a bit higher than resting rate but not alarming in itself. I looked back again and asked him once more if he's okay. He looked me in the eyes and nodded his head yes as tears welled up in his eyes, then looked away. He was completely alert. He responded perfectly to all my questions, his eyes were equal and reactive, all signs of good brain function, but no signs of a pulse or any vascular activity. At this point, I don't know what to think. Scientifically, there is no reason this guy should be alive. Even if he had an artificial heart, he would be showing vital signs and have a battery pack with a filter kit, but he's right in front of me.

Alert, breathing, talking when addressed. It makes absolutely no sense. I decided to continue investigating. I listened to his heart with my stethoscope and there was no beating, no thumping, just the muffled sounds of his breathing. While I was there, I listened to his lungs, all clear, all normal. I had just finished listening to his chest when we pulled into our destination. We offloaded him from the ambulance, took him to the room that we were instructed to, then he hopped off the gurney and was escorted to his hospital bed by the guards.

I began giving my almost unbelievable turnover report to the nurse who surprisingly didn't seem alarmed by any of it. I wrapped up my turnover, then sat down in a nearby chair to finish up my report. As I sat, typing away at my computer, I'm interrupted by the sound of a hospital gurney rolling down the hallway. It was accompanied by four people in surgical gowns who entered the inmate's room with said gurney. After a few minutes the team in the surgical attire emerges from the room, inmates strapped down to the gurney with restraints, audibly crying, and wheeling him down the hallway and around the corner. And this was the last I saw of him. I told my partner once we were back in the ambulance,

but he didn't believe me at first, which I can understand. I joke around a lot, but with the look I gave him, he knew I wasn't kidding. Now this story may not have been what you were expecting, it's not violent or particularly frightening, but this was hands down the most disturbing call I've ever had. I don't know what I saw, I don't know what I transported. I have my theories such as experimental treatments being carried out on inmates, but with skin like ice, hardly any vital signs, and such a fearful demeanor, I can only wonder what kind of experiments and what kind of horrors that that man has faced. So I'm a 21 year old male and this experience happened last summer while I was on vacation

at Myrtle Beach with my family. We were staying in a resort right on the beach and were on the 13th or 14th floor in a sort of timeshare. One night I was feeling restless and having a hard time falling asleep and at around 3am I decided to go out on the balcony to get some air. I stepped out and was stunned as there was a full moon and the moonlight on the water was really beautiful. The beach was completely empty as far as I could see and I had never seen it like that before. I decided that since I wasn't able to sleep I might as well head down, take a stroll and listen to some music to relax. Hopefully when I return I'd be able to get some sleep. It was really unsafe and dumb of me but since it was 3am and the rest of my family was asleep,

I decided to just head down without letting any of them know I was going as I thought I would just go and chill there for about 10-15 minutes then come right back up. So at the base of the timeshare we were at there was an area with a pool, an outdoor bar and then two boardwalks separated by about 100 feet which both led to the beach. On the sides of the boardwalks there were swaths of tall grass separating the ocean and the resort. When I got down to the base the entire area was completely deserted When I got down to the base, the entire area was completely deserted, and I started walking down the boardwalk on the right towards the beach. As I'm walking down, I suddenly see someone approaching me from the beach, which was strange because I had a pretty clear view of the same area from the balcony just before and had literally

seen no one. I start to get a bit nervous as I see this figure approach and as I get closer I see it as a man, maybe in his late 30s, who has a backpack on and is wearing glasses with large square lenses. As he gets closer I get a clearer look at him as the boardwalk is sort of illuminated by lights from the outdoor bar. He looks very on edge and alert, almost like he's trying to find someone who's trying to meet him in this area and his clothes are somewhat tattered. We made eye contact and I sort of nod at him and pass. At this point I'm creeped out cause honest to god he had a sort of Jeffrey Dahmer look, he was the glasses and he just didn't seem like he actually belonged to

the timeshare. I shake it off and keep walking down the beach and put my headphones in. As I get down to the beach, I turn right and start walking parallel to the water, and I'm just taking in the scenery. I'm barefoot and decided it'd be nice to walk just along the shoreline, so I move closer to the water and continue walking. I'm walking for no longer than a minute before I get a really, really strange feeling that something is wrong. I take off my headphones and turn around and I see a dark figure that is trailing me just up shore. He is situated in between me and the

timeshare. I immediately can tell from the figure's height, body type, and demeanor that it is the same man I passed on the boardwalk. At this point I'm starting to panic as every story from Let's Read is rushing to my head. At the same time I'm trying to rationalize as it feels too surreal that I may actually be in a dangerous situation. So I remind myself it could just be a coincidence and the man decided he also wanted to take a walk on the beach and just happened to be headed in the same direction as me. So I take some breaths and turn my head back to the ocean and continue walking in the same direction. After a couple of seconds I turn my head back again,

and seeing that now, he is much closer to me, and is not walking parallel to me, but is definitely actually walking towards me. I pick up my walking speed now and turned my head back around and see he is matching my faster pace and is still walking towards me and the water. Still for some reason I think, okay maybe he also wants to walk by the water, there's no way I'm actually being followed by a creepy man on a deserted beach. So at this point, to truly test it I do a 180 and completely change directions and as I turn my head I see him completely change directions with me and continue

closing in distance and he's power walking now. It suddenly hits me that I'm in a really bad situation and I take off in a run along the water and he starts running as well. He stays up shore of me so that if I try to run up towards the boardwalk he will intercept me. I'm freaking out now and just keep running with no plan but figured that since I'm 20 and sort of fit I should probably be able to keep running along the water and outrun him and then find some other exit off the beach and either call my family or head back to the timeshare on the road. So I keep running but he's keeping up with me and this goes on for what feels like 10-15 minutes. The scariest part of all of this which I wouldn't have thought of is it is completely dead silent. All I hear is my breath and feet on the sand and when I turn I only see his shadowy figure

up shore keeping pace with me. Suddenly up ahead, in the sand, I see a small blue light and what looks like four people on the beach with a blanket. They are a bit up shore. I turn and look at the figure and bet even though they are up shore, I can beat him to these people so I start sprinting towards them with the hopes of quickly telling them what's going on so we all can confront him. I really use up my energy sprinting towards them and as I approach, my heart drops. What I see is four guys on a blanket with three

or four handles of hard liquor surrounding them. Three of the handles are empty and the fourth is about half empty. Three of the guys are just completely passed out in the blankets and the last is half sat up, obviously beyond drunk, with a sort of party hat on that has blue lights on it and he's talking to himself. His eyes are half closed and he doesn't even register me approaching him, even though now I'm no more than five feet away. I turn and see the figure has slowed down and is observing me and then I see he makes sense of the group's state and suddenly starts sprinting at me. As he gets closer, the half passed out guy's blue light illuminates him and I can clearly see it's

the same guy as before. I make eye contact with him and I can see his wide eyed and looks almost manic and is barreling at me full sprint. At this point I decided to do something decisive. It seemed like I had underestimated his fitness and since I had just sprinted towards this group and exhausted myself, I was afraid that he might be able to catch up to me if we just continued running along the beach indefinitely, and then who knows what. So instead of turning around and running, I suddenly sprint towards him and to the right, which I don't think he was expecting at all. I catch him off balance and run past him, and I literally am full sprinting back to the timeshare without even looking back. Literally all the hairs on my neck were standing, and it felt like a dream where

you're barely evading someone but he's right about to catch you. The adrenaline was crazy and I keep running and start to see the timeshare. I finally turn around to see how close he is and I see him in the distance maybe 400 to 500 feet away. He's lost a lot of distance on me. I don't waste any time and sprint up the boardwalk and towards the base of the timeshare. I jam the elevator buttons and leap in and start mashing the closed door button as I'm gasping for air. The door closes and I hit the button for my floor and when the elevator reaches, I literally sprint back to my room, open the door, enter, and then slam

the door and double lock it. I'm breathing heavy and I drop to the floor and just sit there for a minute, not believing what just happened. I crouch and crawl over to my room as I was literally afraid he might be able to see through the window on our balcony and I enter my room. Let's just say I definitely wasn't able to sleep after that. I was born in 1970. I'm a male. For as long as I can remember, I've seen the same woman, always at a distance. Let me explain. When I'm in a moving vehicle, I'll see her on the street. If I'm walking down the street, she'll be on the other side of the street.

I've seen her through restaurants and shop windows. I was passing under a bridge and she was on the bridge. She never ages. She looks exactly the same now as she did when I was little. And whenever I see her, she looks right at me and smiles. It's kind of a sad smile, like there's always something she wants to say but can't. My earliest memory of her was when I was around 4 or 5 years old. I was riding in the car with my oldest sister driving. I remember looking out the window and the lady was standing on the corner. We looked at each other and she smiled that sad smile and I remember saying that to my sister that lady looked sad. My sister looked over and said she didn't see anybody,

which didn't make sense to me because she was standing right there and she was the only one there. I chalked it up to my sister messing with me. After starting elementary school, I would see her from time to time outside the windows, and as always, she would look at me and smile that same sad smile. Over the years, I've estimated her age to be early 20s. Her hair is long and brown and her eyes are blue, the same as mine. She's always wearing a dress of some kind. They've been various colors over the years, but always like a light summer dress. Nothing that would identify her to any particular place and time.

And it's always either spring or summer when she appears to me. As I got older, I quit trying to point her out to people because nobody ever saw her. The only exception being a friend's toddler who I was minding while her mother was in the bank. We were sitting on the hood of my car drinking juice boxes and talking about whatever interests a three year old. I looked up and the lady was on the other side of the street. There were cars going each way but the only people around was the three of us. I looked at her. She smiled and for the first time waved. Before I could wave back my friend's daughter waved at her. I asked if she saw the lady and she giggled and said yes and said she wanted a flowery dress like hers. I looked back at

the lady but just then my friend came out of the bank distracting me. When I looked up again, she was gone. The toddler's grown now and has no memory of that day as would be expected. When I was a punk teenager I decided the next time I saw her I was going to approach her and find out what her story was. The only thing was I never knew when I would saw her, I was going to approach her and find out what her story was. The only thing was, I never knew when I would see her. There was no rhyme or reason or pattern to it that I could see, and I got my opportunity two weeks before my 18th birthday. I was driving somewhere and I saw her standing next to a party store. I quickly pulled into the parking lot and jumped out of the car, keeping my eye on her. When I almost got hit by another car, I took my eyes off of her for a millisecond, and she was gone.

I tried numerous other times for the same result. I finally accepted that it was never going to happen. She's never given me a malicious vibe or a beneficial vibe. She's just there, smiling that sad smile. I've tried calling out to her but as you'd expect, there's never an answer. I'm 50 now and I still see her from time to time. She's still in her early 20s. I drive trucks long distance and I've seen her all over the country. A friend of mine who's into spiritualism says that she could be someone who's connected to me somehow. I have no idea how. I'm hoping when my time on earth is through I'll get to talk to her and find out who she is. It's weird that I only

see her in spring or summer. Maybe that has something to do with it. I don't know. I do find comfort in seeing her. It's hard to explain, but if she ever stopped appearing to me, I believe that I would grieve. Seeing her, even though we never speak and she only ever waved once, gives me a good feeling. I would like to know what the story is behind that sad smile. I would say it was more paranormal, my experience. I'm not sure, but to set the scene, we live in the desert in northern Arizona. Small population towns, 20-30 miles between some towns.

One night, a couple of months ago, I was driving home from my mother-in-law's house to our house. It's a 35-40 minute drive through the desert. It was late and it was just my newborn baby and I. My husband works late and I was at his mom's house so I wasn't alone all day. To get home you have to drive through about 20 minutes of Indian reservation. The only thing between the town she lives in and our town was a tiny gas station that is closed after 7pm. This was in August so the sun isn't setting till 9.30 or so. So it had to have been about 10 or 11 because it was pitch black out. I remember passing the station and I vividly remember checking the gas price on the large illuminated sign the gas

stations have because gas is usually cheaper there and because it is on the large illuminated sign the gas stations have because gas is usually cheaper there and because it is on the reservation they don't charge taxes. The large chevron sign shone bright in the pitch black but the prices were not lit. It didn't seem weird to me because the gas station has been closed for a few months due to the epidemic but you could still get gas at the pump with your card. I remember checking my rear view to see if the prices were listed on the opposite side. They weren't. No biggie. I had plenty of gas and just wanted to check. So I get about half a mile past the station and see a bright light in the distance. This is a long stretch of desert road

where you can see forever in front of you and forever behind you because there are not many turns in the road. I thought it was odd because there is nothing but desert and tall red cliffs to the north where I saw the light. Maybe it was just a vehicle on one of the old dirt roads. As I approached it I was entirely confused. It was the gas station. Again. What in God's name? I thought as I passed the station for a second time. I chalked it up to me being sleep deprived because I just had a baby and wasn't getting much sleep. Although I was still freaked out a little because I could see the gas station's

lights in my rear view when I saw this new light. Whatever, it's late, I'm tired, I keep driving. Again, I see another light off in the distance. I think maybe it's a new billboard I didn't notice on the way. I get closer, and I kid you not, it is the gas station for a third time. I'm wide awake at this point, tripping out. I have drove this road a million times. There's no cell service on the reservation and I am not knowing what to do. So obviously I keep driving, get past the gas station once again, and what do you know, I see this light out in the distance for a fourth time. I get closer. It's this gas station. For the fourth time now.

I'm losing it. I'm thinking I'm going to be stuck in some sort of loop of another dimension forever with my brand new baby. Some glitch in the matrix or something. I am also terrified because I have heard many stories of skinwalkers in this area. If you've never heard of a skinwalker, look them up, and you're welcome for the nightmares. So we pass the gas station for the fourth time and see the light once again in the distance. I know I am losing it at this point. I squeeze my eyes shut as hard as I can for a few seconds, about to start bawling, hyperventilating at this point. I open them and it's gone.

Thank goodness. I drive 95 the rest of the way out of the reservation and I don't know what happened. I could have just been terribly sleep deprived. Who knows? Nothing like that has ever happened since. So my dad grew up in a small town called Lubongo in southwestern Angola. He was born in 1961 and as a child spent most of his time in the dry open land, playing with friends and hunting with his father. Now this story takes place on the 29th of December 1983 when friends and hunting with his father. Now this story takes

place on the 29th of December 1983 when my dad was 22 years old. At this point in life he was working for a petrol company, driving a petrol tanker around the town to various petrol stations. Now this day started as any other, usual pickups here and there. At one particular station however, he parked the tanker and headed inside the station for the newspaper and a possible cigarette if he was lucky. My dad was familiar with all the different station clerks and stepping inside this one, he was expecting to see the usual shopkeeper, Roy, but there was no one running the till. My dad assumed he was in the toilet cubicle so he went to grab a paper.

It was one from the week prior which satisfied my dad enough. Living in Lubongo during the civil war it was incredibly rare to actually get a newspaper even close to the correct date. My dad was no stranger to the civil war raging in his country but he tried to avoid conversation about it as it just made him upset. Unfortunately, this was borderline impossible considering it was the only excitement the old men in the town experienced. Anyway, upon reading the headline on the newspaper, South Africa Troops Retreat After Devastating Attack, my dad placed the newspaper where it previously lay and scanned the desk for cigarettes.

He spotted some rolling paper laid out across the desk with a sprinkle of tobacco sat inside. My dad figured that Roy had started to roll a cigarette when something else had come up. He decided to wait for Roy to come back while he flicked through the collection of newspapers built up on the desk. After ten long minutes, my dad decided to carry on with his job and just believed Roy had gone on a long walk or something. He was walking to his tanker as the sound of plane propellers filled the sky. This wasn't unseen but it was rather unusual in Lumbongo. So my father decided to lean against the cab of his big rig and watch the planes soar by. My dad was so sad to see the juxtaposition of those destructive army planes with the backdrop of the beautiful Angolan sky

The planes were flying low over the Lumbongo military base and my dad concluded that they were two planes landing in the base after a battle of some sorts My dad's wondrous expression turned to curiosity as he saw two small black dots drop from the bottom of the planes. As the dots fell, my dad's face turned to dread as he watched the two planes fly far away. A loud explosion rattled his ears and he fell to the ground in shock. He looked at the fire cloud that surrounded the military base and watched as it crumbled and burnt. He lay watching for half an hour as chaos ensued in and around his hometown. That moment was the day Lumbago fell. Weeks later they found Roy's body. It had turned out he had gone on a walk and was found by two South African soldiers who interrogated him on the spot. He attempted to escape and retaliate and was shot dead in the process. This was a

planned attack by the South African army called Operation Clinker, and it can be found on the internet, although sadly little information is written about it. I think this story is very important for people to hear as the Angolan Civil War is an event in history that took countless lives and isn't talked about nearly enough. I believe people need to be educated on this historical landmark. So I started high school when I was young, barely 13 years old. I'm a female, now a junior. I didn't think anything about this guy since I wasn't focused on people. I didn't really care about anyone else except two friends I had in the classes I had with him.

He was 17 at the time and yes in those classes the grade levels were mixed. Nothing ever stuck out to me as odd about him since I rarely paid attention to him until one day in biology I looked up for my paper and saw him taking pictures of me. I was creeped out but didn't say anything in case I was wrong. Then days later he found my Instagram and kept texting me which I obviously never responded to and if I had to I would be very dry and just leave him on scene. Then one day in the middle of class I got a text from a random number saying hey with my name and various emojis like heart ones and I immediately knew it was him since

earlier he was asking for my number which I declined to give him. I immediately went to the two friends in that class to yell at them for telling him which they replied, we never gave it to him. They even showed me their phones and let me go through them and their messages with him and no number of mine was ever mentioned despite his numerous texts asking for them. I never answered him and desperately tried to avoid him until one day on Instagram I got a text from him saying, you're so pretty, to which I replied that I wasn't pretty and then he spammed me with pictures that he had taken of me. That wasn't even the creepiest part. There were like 50 plus pictures of me, ranging from classes, around the school campus, and even

outside of school, like near the bus stop or waiting for a friend at the quad to go somewhere. There was even some of me playing soccer with friends on the football field. It's used for soccer too since the soccer fields get flooded easily and constantly is getting fixed to look pretty. Obviously I left him on scene, blocked him and avoided him even more to the point that I started skipping class and when I did go I told the teacher what happened while I was shaking and she let me go to the dean of the school where I showed them everything and even gave them the number I got the message from. It's been two years, I'm a junior now, stayed in the school since they have

connections to a hospital I want to volunteer in and because I have great friends there and he's made new accounts on everything. Instagram, Snapchat and probably got a new number and he has been trying to follow me and message me for weeks now. I keep blocking him but new accounts are created. I'm honestly glad for quarantine since I would probably be nervous to go to class or even school. It's also worth mentioning that it's still not known how he got my number as the only two people who had it never gave it to him and I'm 100% sure that he was following me around school even after I told the dean. I live in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and one of our biggest annual events here, pre-pandemic, is the Balloon Fiesta. People gather

here from all over the world to go see the hot air balloons. It can be fun and exciting, but I feel like my childhood experience soured me against the whole thing, and you'll soon know why. Back in October 1991, I was 9, almost 10 years old. My mom and I were going to the Balloon Fiesta with her flaky and free-spirited friend. The friend said she had invited a couple that she had met recently. They were from Mexico and didn't speak much English, if any, I don't remember. But anyway, I don't remember many specifics as this happened nearly 30 years ago. What I do remember however was getting seriously bad vibes from this couple and telling

my mom, I don't like these people mommy. I'm sure my mom probably brushed me off as being a silly child as she usually did. What we later found out is why I've learned to always follow my intuition. It was a little while later, I couldn't say if it was a couple of weeks or months but that couple I didn't like had kidnapped and murdered a teenage girl that went to high school with my sister. The couple ended up hanging themselves while in jail awaiting trial. I recently verified this story to make sure I didn't dream it up or something. I googled what I remembered the girl's name to be and found at least one newspaper article about it.

Her name was Yolanda Medina, and she lost her life way too soon because of two sick monsters. To be continued... I've worked as a mall Santa for the past few Christmases now. I'm only 33, but thanks to my complete lack of exercise routine, I definitely have the figure for it. And once I have the beard and the wig and hat combo going, there's basically no telling the difference between me and a 60-year-old dude. Mall Santa work can be tough for a few different reasons number one the hours are really long and the pay can be really terrible depending on which mall you manage to get employed by number two the kids can be little monsters and their parents can be just as terrible on occasion too but the reason i'm actually considering skipping the entire thing this year and having something of a budget christmas is that you get some seriously disturbing things happening from time to time. I mean,

the kind of things that keep you up at night, even after a long, exhausting shift. However, the worst thing that's ever happened to me as a mall Santa was actually nothing to do with kids, parents, or terrible pay in hours, and I'm sure you'll see why after I tell the story. So every year, usually when the malls are quietest during weekday mornings, we get specially organized visits from special needs kids or adults with learning disabilities who are bussed in from the surrounding areas. Pretty much every other mall Santa I've spoken to about this agrees that it can be one of the most rewarding parts of the job, and that the adults with learning difficulties are often even more excited about the prospect of meeting Santa than some of the kids are. Literally the only downside is that some of them are so heavy that my thighs hurt after having like 50 in a row sit on my lap but other than that it's honestly one of the best

parts of the job. Last year I'm in the middle of one of the special sessions when I get this girl coming up and sitting on my lap. I say girl but she was legitimately a grown woman looking like she was in her mid-30s or something but she had the mental age of about 9 or 10, all smiles and giggles, way shy about meeting Santa again. It was cute as all get out but the interaction was not so cute and turned that way pretty fast. So like I said she's all giggles and smiles as she comes up to sit on my lap and I give her the usual spiel, asking her name, how old she is, if she's excited for Christmas and all that stuff. Then when it comes to asking her what she wants me to bring her on Christmas Eve, she starts thinking about it, smiling at first before she suddenly gets super serious with a

touch of sadness. I'm asking her if she's okay, what the problem is and she's like shaking her head, acting like she doesn't want to tell me anything. I take the time in explaining that no matter what she asks for, I'll try my very, very best to bring it to her, no matter how big or small it is, but Santa always tries his best to bring good little girls and boys what they ask for on Christmas. She takes a moment, then the exchange goes a little something like this. You mean it, Santa? You can get me anything I want for Christmas? Anything. Anything you want. Just tell me and I'll do my best.

Okay, well... And at this point she lowers her voice to a whisper and leans into my ear. I want my boyfriend to stop hitting me. Can you make that happen? I was sort of dumbstruck for a second. Like all of the things I thought she was going to ask, that would most definitely not have topped the list. I remember just nodding at first,

trying to find the words, then being like, I'll make that happen for you, sure, no problem. She was so, so happy to hear that I'd fix it for her, and gave me the biggest hug I think I'd ever received while working as a mall Santa. I had to put on a huge smile, and of all the times I've had to fake being jolly and merry, that time with her was the hardest. But I just felt numb, like completely broken by what I'd heard and I just tried my best to get through the rest of the session without bursting into tears. I remember all these thoughts rushing through my head, terrifying ideas of institutional abuse. She

said boyfriend and that made it extra creepy. Like sure it could have been just another guy in her care group or something, another adult with learning difficulties who she'd hooked up with somehow but there was nothing to say that it wasn't a member of her care team that was like abusing her in a completely different sense too. Not just physically but well you catch my drift. So when the session was over I approached the member of the care team that had organized the trip and had accompanied them to the mall. I didn't let anything slip. I just told them how great I thought the session had gone and asked a few details about the group that had organized them. As it turned out, they were all

from the same care home type thing so I made a note of the name of the place as well as the name of the girl that was apparently being abused. That night I couldn't sleep. I just kept picturing some evil monster abusing that poor girl, taking advantage of their position to put some poor special needs woman through torture, then telling her that she'd be killed if she ever breathed a word of it to anyone. And here's where stuff starts getting even more intense. Now, I could have just called 911 with the info I had at hand, registered a general complaint and then heard nothing back about it.

But a buddy of mine had a cousin with the local police department and not just some gumshoe beat cop either, they were a detective. It took some convincing but I convinced my buddy to pass along their cell phone numbers so I could get in touch with the dude personally. It took a little while but I managed to get through to the guy. He sounded pretty skeptical at first and seemed kind of irritated that his cousin had even given me his number, but once I explained what the issue was, his tone changed completely. Now I didn't find this out until way later from my friend, but his cousin had a special needs daughter who was probably going to have to either live with them for the rest of their life, or was going to head into a group home at some point so she could have some measure of independence.

So when I explained the situation with the special needs girl I met as Amal Santa, it obviously hit the guy right in the feels as the topic was so close to home. The detective tells me that he'll look into it, thanks me for letting him know. I get him to promise to tell me if anything comes of it and he says yes and we hang up. And that was the last I heard of it for like a month. Then after maybe five or six weeks I'd almost forgotten about the whole thing. Christmas was over, the mall Santa job was way behind me and I was back to working my regular hours as a self-employed mechanic. Then I get a call from a number that seems vaguely familiar although I

wasn't quite sure why. Turns out it was my buddy's detective cousin who reminded me of the tip that I'd given him about the care company. Of course I remembered but by that time I really didn't think anything would come of it but oh how wrong I was. The detective thanks me for the information and although he told me he couldn't say too much, he told me to keep an eye out on local media outlets. The next thing I know it's all over the local papers that there's been a misconduct scandal involving a local care company. I picked up a copy and read the story, only to find out that it's the very same one I had reported. The long and short of it is that the cops had uncovered endemic levels of abuse in the company. Stuff that varied from financial discrepancies to straight up physical abuse

and sickeningly enough there was even cases of care workers taking advantage of mentally disabled females in ways that were seriously inappropriate. There were numerous arrests, with some of the sleazier and violent criminals looking like they were going to get years in prison for how long they so cruelly taken advantage of some of the most vulnerable people in society. It made me sick to my stomach to read about how some people could bring themselves to do something like that. But it was stopped, and I felt incredible that I'd actually managed to be a part of the chain of events that brought the whole thing crashing down. I just hoped that that poor girl, who was obviously pretty traumatized by what was happening to her, and just not being able to understand why it was

happening either, found some measure of peace after it. And in a way, Santa did kind of bring her exactly what she wanted, even if it wasn't on Christmas day, and that, ladies and gentlemen, is a thought that never fails to make me tear up. During college Christmas break of 2016, I had traveled all the way back to Pennsylvania from California to spend the holidays with my parents. It was kind of weird going from being a mostly independent college kid in a place that hardly ever gets cold, to going back to living in my childhood bedroom in a state that becomes a legit winter wonderland around December and January. But I love my mom and dad and I don't care how much the flight costs, there was no way I was going to spend the holidays alone in Cali. So anyway, my old room is on the

second floor of the house, directly above the sliding door that heads out onto the decking in our backyard. It's a really heavy door, so anytime someone opens or closes it, it rumbles right up into my bedroom. This wasn't a house that was built back in the 50s too, so as you can imagine, the whole place has a lot of creaks and groans to it, but is otherwise pretty sturdy. I should also add at this point that part of the town that my parents live at is pretty safe, with a relatively low crime rate, especially to that of nearby Philly. The most intrusive calls they ever got tended to be from magazine salespeople and the odd Jehovah's Witnesses, and after my dad insists on debating scripture with them, they stopped calling altogether. Point being,

they never had anything remotely close to any kind of break-in or home invasion for the entire time they were living in that property. Next thing is a brief confession from myself here. I picked up a pretty horrible smoking habit during my freshman year of college, so whenever my parents went to bed, I tended to stay up late playing Civ on my laptop, sitting next to my open bedroom window while I smoked and drank tumblers of scotch that I'd pilfered from my dad's liquor cabinet. After midnight, I'd have my window open from anything of 30 minutes to two hours. I mean, it would purely depend on how cold it was outside or how tired I was, but I generally let the room air out before spraying some air freshener

so that the tobacco smell didn't cling to anything too bad. I also had to use headphones to watch TV and listen to music so it wouldn't wake my mom and dad up. But I tend to only ever use one earphone so I could keep an ear out for anyone coming down the hallway since they really wouldn't be happy if they found out I was smoking in the house. So one night I was in my usual routine of conquering the known world in an online multiplayer game of Civ when our house alarm suddenly starts blaring. I don't think I'd heard that thing since I was about 6 or 7 years old, and I had completely forgotten about how loud it was.

So hearing it had me practically filling my underwear from being frightened out of my skin. Point being, everyone in the house is now wide awake and ready to head off whatever is about to go down. Now my priorities might sound way way off here, but initially my big worry wasn't so much that something bad might be happening like a home invasion or something like that. It was more like me being terrified that my parents were about to realize I'd been smoking and stealing booze from them. I was 20 years old at the time, technically underage, and my parents were old-fashioned types, real sticklers for the rules. If they found out what I'd been doing, there'd be drama in lots of it. But somehow,

when my dad stuck his head around my door all bleary-eyed to make sure he knew where I was, he didn't seem to smell anything. I don't know whether this was because he was too tired and freaked out about the alarms to notice or that he noticed and actually just didn't care but either way he told me to go into their bedroom and stay with my mom until he could give us the all clear. So my dad goes downstairs, I'm assuming with pistol in hand and gets to work clearing the house as well as checking the front and back yards to make sure there's no one hiding in the darker areas out there. He comes back up, tells me and my mom he couldn't find anything and it was probably just a false alarm and then we all

head back to bed. Or rather they went back to bed. I just went back to being a diplomatic genius on Civ 6. About an hour goes by and I start getting pretty tired, so I get up to close my bedroom window before heading to bed when the alarm goes off again. Once again my dad goes downstairs, does a sweep of the ground's floor and the yards, then comes back to tell me not to worry and that he figured it was just the wind or something. I mean, it had been a pretty windy night, which honestly suited me because it meant the breeze aired my room out. Like I said, it was an old house,

so it wasn't out of the question that the wind could have rattled the doors or windows and set the alarm off. The point being that both me and my dad were chill about the alarm going off. Neither of us thought there was anything to worry about. So the next morning at breakfast my dad is going through the alarm system's app on his iPhone, checking out some of the data readouts from the night before. All of a sudden he's all like, okay that's weird. Apparently the backsliding doors were opened 14 times last night. Number one, I was impressed the alarm system was so sophisticated that it could feed him that kind of info. I guess he shelled out big boy cash for that thing. But number two, how could it have been opened that many times? Then I'm not kidding,

like five to ten minutes later there's a knock at our front door and it's the neighbor guy from the house down the street. He asks us if we had any intruders over the previous night and we tell him no or that at least we didn't think so. It's then that he tells us that he actually caught someone on a security camera trying to break into his house, that the dude had tried to jimmy a lock or something before looking right up into the camera before getting spooked and bailing. We assumed that this was about the time that he moved on to our house, then kept at it when he realized it was the weaker target. That seriously freaked me out. The whole time I'd been sitting there, innocently playing games, sipping stolen scotch, there had been a guy trying to get

into our house, maybe only six or seven feet below me. If I'd have bothered to look out the window at any point and directly downward, I'd have locked eyes with the guy. He must have smelled my cigarette smoke, known someone was home and it just didn't bother him in the least bit. He was more than prepared to face off with someone, although apparently not when he'd seen my dad with his pistol sweeping the house in yards in the dark. I've always liked a scary story or a good horror film. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves, they're my jam. I've never found like serial killers or whatever to be that scary though, Like I didn't think that the human element to the horror was

particularly potent. After that night though, that all changed. It struck me how evil and predatory human beings can really be. How that guy had been creeping around in our backyard for basically hours right under my nose and I had absolutely no clue he was there. It's how he managed to just disappear when the alarm went off too and now we had the balls to come back once we'd all gone back to bed. I mean he was like a ghost or something just vanishing into the darkness. I mean think about it. My dad had checked out the backyard, tried to make sure that there was no one hanging around, hiding out in the dark spots underneath the trees and there had been. There had been someone there, just watching my dad walking around in his slippers or whatever

he had on, just waiting for him to call off the search before creeping back up towards the house. Just thinking about it now gives me shivers, and now that I'm back in Cali writing this, I always make sure that all the windows and doors in my dorm are locked now that I'm back in Cali writing this, I always make sure that all the windows and doors in my dorm are locked, and that I double or triple check whenever I think something bad is about to go down or whatever. Because sometimes it seems you'll never know if someone is just lurking in the shadows until it's way, way too late. So a little bit of backstory. My great-grandmother's second husband was apparently a total sadist,

who systematically abused her grandchildren for many, many years in pretty much every way you can imagine. These grandchildren happened to be my dad and his sisters, and it had a horrendous effect on them, as you can probably imagine. It was also totally unknown to anyone but them until quite a while after he died, which coincidentally was around the same time that I was born. So as I said, the abuse had a really harsh effect on my family's collective psyche and made them vigilant to the point of paranoia when it came to protecting me from a similar fate. As a result, I was basically never allowed to play outside without strict supervision, and I almost certainly was never allowed to go to sleepovers at friends' house when I was a kid. This story takes place back in the early 90s when I was about 7 or 8 years old.

My family was living down in Florida just when the holidays were about to roll around. We were a very close family, for reasons I already stated, so my nana lived with us right up until the day she passed. She helped out around the house and with a lot of childcare stuff, so whenever I was home due to school holidays or whatever, she would look after me whenever my mom and dad had to work. I adored her with all my heart. She was just about the best nana that anyone could ever wish for and she was tough as an old boot too. So this particular year I was lucky enough to have gotten the one thing I really really wanted Santa to bring me, a brand new pair of roller skates. I was obsessed with them and from the moment I got

them I was itching to practice so I could get good enough to start going really fast or nail some tricks on them. One afternoon I'm zooming up and down the sidewalk outside our house, getting better and better with each passing hour while Nana is sitting on the porch and keeping a close eye on me in between bouts of reading a magazine or a book or something. Then at one point, the phone rings and Nana basically has no choice but to duck inside to answer it. I'm guessing she hesitated on calling me inside, knowing I'd kick up a fuss if I had to stop skating even for a minute, so she must have figured that she could probably duck inside and answer the call without it being too much of a risk. But as she did, she kept the main door open so that she could still see me through the screen door. It took a minute or two for her to get back from the call but nothing went down during that

time so I figured that gave her a little peace of mind that she didn't have to worry about me all the time. When she gets back, she goes back to reading her thing while I was hard at work learning to spin on the front or whatever trick I had my heart set on learning. Then after maybe another 45 minutes or so, she calls to me that it was time for a lemonade break and that we had to go inside. I remember begging her with everything I had to just please please let me skate for just a little while longer. I managed to bargain with her somehow, telling her I'd that just please please let me skate for just a little while longer. I managed to bargain with her somehow, telling her I'd skate just for a few more minutes but also swearing that I'd come inside as soon as she'd made the lemonade, no ifs ands or buts. She kind of scowls at me for a second, probably silently cursing the fact that she couldn't quite

say no to me whenever I begged her like that, but she eventually agreed before going inside to get the lemonade ready. But when she did, she tells me to sing as loud as I can so she can hear me from the kitchen and know I was still there. So I did as I was told, then warbled all the Boyz II Men lyrics I knew while I continued to skate up and down. Then maybe only a few minutes go by and I look up to see this big old van turn onto our street. It starts cruising along all slow, almost looking like they were lost or looking for something, but I mean I didn't pay it any mind. I was a kid, naive and besides I was too busy being happy with my skates to really consider any danger it might pose.

And on top of that, I was with my tough old Nana, and nothing could ever hurt me so long as she was around. Or at least, that's what I thought. So as it rolls up alongside me and slows to a stop, I just carry on trying my very best to twirl on the spot with my skates. And in fact, knowing me, I probably tried to show off a little given that I had an impromptu audience. The next thing I know, the passenger side of the van opens out and a very, very tall man steps out. I know everyone is tall when you've yet to hit 10 years

old, but this guy probably towered over all the other grownups he was around too. He was skinny, he looked like a scarecrow and a skeleton's love child or something, just all gangly limbs with a shock of salt and pepper hair messily strewn across his scalp. I remember that specifically. He approaches me and asks me which way the highway is and I just point it back down the street. I'm not even sure that was the right direction but I just sure wanted to be helpful to a stranger. I remember he smiled and thanked me and it was only then that I started to get nervous. It was his teeth. They were all discolored and crooked. I think most kids associate monsters with their teeth, maybe most adults too. I know I certainly do and seeing that guy's teeth put the fear of

God into me. But I tried to stay polite when he asked me how my Christmas went, showing him my new skates when he asked me what Santa had brought me that year. It was then that he told me that Santa had been extra generous to him and his family that year and had brought his daughter so many presents that she didn't even want them all. Now my family has always been close knit, a loving and generous family with their money. They just never had a lot of it, so holidays for us was always pretty sparse affairs. Which is why when the scarecrow man told me his daughter got so much that she didn't even want some of her presents, I couldn't quite believe my ears. And when he actually offered me a Barbie themed dollhouse, one I actually really did want,

I almost forgot about how nervous I was of him. It wasn't enough to completely shake the fear out of me though, so when he told me he had it in the back of his van, asking if I'd like to come take a look, I just started skating away from him, shaking my head all silent. But instead of just shrugging it off and getting back into his van, he starts to follow me back towards my parents' place, asking where I lived, if my parents were home, that kind of stuff. We hadn't had any stranger danger lessons in school so it was only out of pure instinct that I unlatched the gate to my parents' place and began to wail for my nana. No sooner had I let out the second cry than my nana appears with this big old cast iron pan in her hand and comes tearing up the path towards me and what I now know to be my potential abductor and she's screaming bloody murder as she does so. I didn't see this at the time but from what my mom told me years later at my Nana's funeral, this guy takes one look at Nana, soils his pants and just bugs out of there as she chases his van up the street.

I do remember seeing her swinging that pan around and telling him to come back so she could beat him black and blue, and as much as her display of furiousness freaked me out, I was just grateful that she could be twice as scary as Scarecrow Man had been. The way my mom tells it, Nana had tried to get the van's tag number only to find it didn't have one. The guy was a predator through and through, and had obviously been prepping and gearing up to kidnap a kid for whatever reason that may be. Next thing I know the cops at our house, my dad had come home early from work and I'm having to tell people over and over what that guy looked like while they write

down things and ask me a zillion questions about the color of the van, the guy's clothes, like every little detail you could possibly think of. Needless to say, I didn't get to go out on my skates again for the rest of the holidays. So like I mentioned, this whole story came up in my Nana's funeral when we were telling tales about her. And the one really freaky thing about the whole incident, and something I didn't know until years and years after was that when me and Nana described the scarecrow man to the cops, they both shot each other a look like, holy god. Before telling Nana and my dad, I was out of the room by that point, that we pretty much just described another one of their perps to them, to a T. We described a guy

that had made several other attempts at kidnapping kids in broad daylight over the holiday period, a guy that they were desperate to get their hands on because they knew it was just a matter of time before his luck turned and he managed to trick a kid into getting into his van. Knowing I could have been that kid, knowing I could well have been dead before my tenth birthday, having endured unimaginable torment before I was finally put out of my visiting their grandparents out in the countryside. They moved out to this big old house once my dad sold his business. One of those offers he couldn't refuse type things that meant he could retire like 10 years earlier than expected. The house is amazing but the only problem is that it's in the middle of nowhere.

The kind of place where the nearest village is like 20 minutes drive away. It's also one heck of a drive to and from the place. One that involves traversing some pretty secluded stretches of motorway. So like I said, it's maybe only a week before Christmas, it's the 16th or 17th of December and my kids are really bloody excited about it. My wee lad is still 5 years old, a true Santa believer while my daughter had only just turned 9, so they're starting to cotton on that something isn't quite right about the whole thing, but they still sort of want to believe,

if that makes any sense. So when they see a hand-painted Christmas light dripping sign that says something like Santa's Grotto 9 miles, they start going ballistic in the back seat, demanding I take them to see Santa. At first, I straight up refuse. It was a long enough drive without pulling into some lay-by to spend the better part of an hour nattering away with some old fella in a red suit. But the pair of them throw an absolute fit, to the point where I decided I would get far more peace if I just capitulated and let them spend a few minutes indulging their childish imaginations. Like I said, my eldest was just on the cusp of figuring out that Santa was just mom and dad

sneaking out in the middle of the night to take their presents out of the car boot before stashing them under the Christmas tree. And every time I imagined her getting older, getting wiser, figuring things out, becoming a young adult, it had me choking up like nobody's business. So I suppose I just wanted to enjoy the naivete just a wee bit longer. Besides, once she'd figured out the truth, it was only a matter of time before she spilled the beans to my youngest. And that was a day I most definitely wasn't looking forward to. So after a few more signs, like Santa's Grotto 3 miles, I finally see the turnoff that I needed to take to get to the grotto. It takes me down this long dark dirt track

that at first I thought might have been the wrong turnoff. But lo and behold, after about 5 minutes or so, I see another one of those janky hand painted signs for Santa's Grotto. The kids are just about ready to burst at this point, but I make it clear that we're not staying any longer than ten minutes, and they're to be on their best behavior, leaving when I tell them to leave, lest Santa see what bad little children they are. The threat of coal in their stockings was more than enough to have them promising to be good.

Anyway, I expected a quaint little winter wonderland type thing with a few other families milling around, but the place was barely even decorated and looked completely deserted. It was little more than port-a-cabin with a few caravans parked around it. Like I'm not messing when I say whoever was in charge of this place had put more effort into decorating the road signs than the actual site itself. I had a bad feeling from the get-go, but I knew better than to reverse myself and tell the kids to get back in the car. They'd have gone absolutely mental getting so close to meeting Santa, only to be told that I'd just up and changed my mind. So, against my better judgment, I decided to give the place a chance. We walked up to the port-a-cabin which seems to be the place where the grotto was and knocked on the door.

There was no reply at first, so we knocked again and as we did so, one of the doors to the caravan swings open and this heavier set older fellow with a big grey beard sticks his head out and gives me a death stare. I look over at him and in my cheerious voice I ask, older fellow with a big grey beard sticks his head out and gives me a death stare. I look over at him and in my cheerious voice I ask, We're here to see Santa. Is he around? I give a quick nod towards the kids as if to say the fellow who I was guessing was the one playing Santa to get himself together so the kids wouldn't throw a fit. He doesn't say a word at first. He just stares at me almost like looking through me like there was nothing behind his eyes at all. He finally says something like,

I'll go fetch him. Then shuts the door, only to re-emerge a few moments later dressed in what was without a doubt the worst looking Santa suit I've ever seen in my life. Not only was it lacking any kind of white felt, there was no belt or anything. The bloke had pretty much just thrown together a collection of red clothes and then whacked on a cheap Santa hat to round the look off. On top of that, the clothes were absolutely filthy, covered in grease stains with a collection of what appeared to be his cigarette burns in the pants. He walked towards the kids and asked them if they were excited to see him. They gave each other this cartoonish look as if to say,

Who is this guy? And the bloke has to repeat the question in a characteristically festive voice before they even really twig to the fact that this was Santa Claus. They just sort of nod at first, watching in confusion as he takes out the key from the red pants and unlocks the porta-cabin before beckoning them inside. The interior was absolutely terrifying. Like I'm a grown woman and even I got the creeps from stepping inside that thing. It was dark and grimy and the use of cheap Christmas lights managed to give the place a kind of festive torture chamber type vibe,

as opposed to the cozy grotto feeling they were obviously aiming for. The crowning piece of creepiness was the fact that mounted on one wall was what I guessed was an old sheep's skull that had some plastic deer antlers taped or glued to the top of it. It would have been creepy enough in broad daylight, but the fact that it was being partially then fully illuminated by red and green flashing lights gave it a truly hellish aesthetic. Santa sat down on a grubby old couch that stunk of pee and old ale, then smacked his knees as if to invite the kids to go sit on his lap. Neither of them moved. Their lack of reaction prompted Santa to give them something of a scowl before he very curtly asked them what each of them wanted for Christmas.

Both of the kids were so nervous by that point that I had to prompt them to reply. The awkward exchange went on for a few more minutes until I turned to the kids and told them we had to leave. As I'm ushering the kids out of the port-a-cabin and back towards the car, I feel a hand grab the crook of my arm and squeeze. I turn to see Santa's face pushed right into mine, his breath reeking of ciggies and hard booze. Fifty quid, he hissed. Sorry, Santa, I haven't got anything on me, I said, trying to be as polite as possible, maintaining a passive aggressive tone.

But I promise me and my husband will leave out some extra brandy and mince pies for you on Christmas night, just to make up for it. I don't even know I was keeping up the pretense by that point. I'm pretty sure the whole experience had scarred my wee lad for life and had pretty much destroyed any remaining festive belief in my daughter. Santa growled back at me, calling me an expletive. I just keep pushing my kids back towards the car, turning back briefly to see that Santa is no longer alone. He was never alone. A gang of other people have filed out of the caravans and are following us back towards where I'd parked the car, then starts off the chorus of, where do you think you're going love? You haven't paid. He told you 50 quid, get your purse out or we'll get it out for you. My kids were on the verge of tears at that point and if I'm being honest, I wasn't far off either.

I gave in, took out my purse and started sifting through it to see if I had 50 in notes on me. Right as I'm doing that, this kid, this actual bloody child just snatches the whole thing out of my hand and runs back towards the caravan with it, only to be goaded on by the gang of skanky looking grown-ups going, good lad, that'll teach her, she needs to learn some generosity, it is Christmas after all. I didn't do a bloody thing, well, aside from getting in the car and driving off. The damage control from that bit of horribleness was a lot of work. I'm pretty sure it was the singular event that broke my eldest kid's belief and we had to reassure my youngest over and over that he was just a bad man pretending to be Santa. And that the real Santa would most definitely be putting him on the naughty list for what he'd done.

But honestly, I think it's me that belongs on the naughty list for putting he'd done. But honestly, I think it's me that belongs on the naughty list for putting my kids in that position in the first place and for putting myself on the most terrifying Christmas related event I'd ever gone through. Far, far scarier than my first Christmas with my mother-in-law, if you can believe that. So this happened all the way back in the late 1990s when I was a college sophomore. Me and the girl I was dating at the time had been going steady for about 8 months and since she was my first real girlfriend, my mom was pretty keen to meet her. And what better time than the holidays to introduce her to the folks. During the week before Christmas, my mom's family traditionally held quite a large gathering up at my uncle's place over in Sandy, in my home state of Oregon. Pretty much all my extended family head out there year after year from all over the Portland area, and since they've

gotten word that I was bringing my girlfriend, the hype to meet her was huge. I won't lie, I was kind of nervous that they'd embarrass me in front of her but that anxiety was totally misplaced. She got along really well with all of them and despite some playful humiliation when the cousin of mine told her the story of how I literally peed my pants at the haunted mansion ride when I was a kid, they were a credit to me. And when it came to driving her back home, she seemed to be more into me than ever. We'd agreed to drive back down to Eugene at like 7pm so I wouldn't be too tired driving back. But since we had such a good time, we stayed way later than we had planned to and didn't get on the road until about 10.30pm that evening.

In the hopes of making the journey a little faster, I ended up taking the OR211 instead of just sticking to the I5S for the whole drive. Annoyingly, this didn't quite actually make the journey any faster, but point being, the OR211 was pretty much surrounded by farms or these huge swaths of dense pine forest. So as you can imagine, big stretches of it aren't lit very well at all, and for some parts of the drive we were moving through complete darkness saved only by our car's headlights. But honestly I wasn't at all worried about it. I was pretty good at reading a map and once I was back on the i5, a road I knew pretty well, I figured everything would be all good. So we're just cruising along in high spirits talking

about how goofy some of my family were, but generally my girlfriend was singing their praises and telling how she couldn't wait to meet them again. It's right around then that we hit a section of the highway that descends down this big old hill, heading up to the bridge crossing over Deep Creek. There, the highway is sandwiched by some of the densest forests you've ever likely seen, and there is absolutely nothing lighting up the highway. It's the only thing we can see from the front seats of the cars, like maybe 20 or 30 feet that our headlights are illuminating, and pretty much nothing else.

But like I said, we're in high spirits, completely unprepared for what was about to happen. Right as the highway was starting to level off, something darts across the front of us so fast and so suddenly that I barely miss smashing into it. I brake so hard that I almost gave the pair of us whiplash, then when we're stopped, both me and my girlfriend are in a complete frenzy of, Oh god, did you see that? What was that? There are plenty of deer in that area of Oregon, plenty of coyotes too, but the thing that ran out in front of us was way too big to be a coyote,

and something about the way it moved gave me this gut feeling that it wasn't a deer either. The shape was just way too slender, almost like whatever was out there had moved on two legs, not four. Now next thing, I know how completely dumb this sounds in retrospect, but my curiosity just got the better of me and I decided I wanted to investigate. So again, this was also incredibly dumb. I turned the car like 90 degrees in the highway so I could point our headlights into the woods. Yes, this could have caused a horrible accident if another car had come along at the same time I was doing this, but I don't think

I was thinking straight at the time. You see, as a kid growing up in the Pacific Northwest, I've heard a lot of stories about Bigfoot and Sasquatch, and I'd be lying if I said that they didn't capture my imagination. No, I'm not saying that I thought I'd caught a glimpse of Gigantopithecus or anything. I know the stories are mostly exactly that, just stories, but a part of me just wanted to be sure. So like I said, I turned the car 90 degrees, turned on the high beams, and stepped out of the driver's side and onto the highway. I stare off into the trees for a minute or two but I don't see a thing. Nothing is moving out there and the whole scene was as quiet as the

grave. But as I'm looking I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach and start to feel as if though I've made a huge error of judgment. It was one of the most intensely terrifying feelings I'd ever felt in my entire life, a feeling like I was being watched by something predatory. I know it's a huge cliche and the whole I felt like I was being watched thing is such a tired old trope, but I don't really know any other way to phrase it. My heart was pounding, the hairs on the back of my neck are standing on end, and my gut just turned to ice. So without turning my back to the woods, where I expected the danger to come from, I started edging back towards the

car. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, I practically jump out of my skin when I hear the car's horn letting off one long excruciatingly loud extended blast. I mean it scared me so bad that I almost straight up peed my pants haunted mansion style. My first thought was that my girlfriend had ended up leaning on the horn as she climbed over into the driver's seat for some reason because she'd done that once or twice before. But as I turned back around I can see she's still on the passenger side but that she's actually leaning over to push the horn in what was evidently a frenzied attempt to get my attention. I run back to the car and ask her if she's okay, but she doesn't say a single word to me.

She just points off to a spot about 50 feet away from where we parked. I spin my head around to see what she's pointing at and that's when I see it. What was, without a shadow of a doubt, the thing that had run in front of our car just a few minutes prior. Lit up by the residual light of our high beams, what I saw was really obviously a man. But he was covered in animal furs, would look like a mishmash of deerskins, bearskins, and elkskins, and on his head, secured in a way I'm not even sure of, were these antlers. At the time, because of how closely it was to the holidays, I remember the words reindeer man just flashed into my mind, maybe in the naive hope that the dude was dressed that way out of some misdirected festive spirit, but he certainly didn't seem in any kind of festive spirit, not in the least bit. Like I couldn't see his eyes because of the weird kind of head covering he had on, but I could see his mouth, and at first he kind of looked like he was giving us a smile.

Only as I looked, I could see it wasn't a smile at all. This guy was just baring his teeth to us like the way chimps do as some kind of warning. After that he turned and walked off into the forest never to be seen again. Obviously right after that me and my girlfriend just got out of there and got back onto the roads towards the I-5. It took us both a while to calm our nerves, but my girlfriend was particularly shaken up, and that's because she'd seen something that I hadn't. And as we drove on, she explained exactly what that was. While I'd been staring off into the woods, looking for Sasquatch or whatever,

she'd noticed a man of her peripheral vision, but was basically frozen in fear for a moment or two as she watched him walking slowly towards me. Or rather, walking isn't the right word. From how she described it, this guy was stalking, the way a hunter might stalk a deer. The way she puts it, she had to summon up pretty much all of her courage to be able to lean over and honk the horn the way she puts it she had to summon up pretty much all of her courage to be able to lean over and honk the horn the way she did. Then when reindeer man had heard the honking he backed off a little before I saw him and like I said he kind of just froze in place before disappearing. I did a fair amount of online research when I got home to try and find out if anyone else had any run-ins with this guy,

but there was absolutely nothing online about him. There are plenty of crazy survivalist types up here in the Pacific Northwest and I'm guessing he was one of those, but they tend to be pretty open about their existence, sometimes even advertise themselves as militiamen or whatever, whereas the reindeer man seemed like he was living completely off the grid. I don't live in Oregon anymore. Me and my girlfriend during the encounter broke up at the end of college, but when we were still together and I happened to be driving down towards Eugene, I always avoided the stretch of highway that I saw the reindeer man on. I've told this story a lot over the years and some people honestly just

think I'm making it up as like a campfire tale or something. But it's not a tale. It's not made up. And it's definitely not just intended to be some dumb spoopy story. It's most definitely a warning to anyone traveling on that road at night because if my girlfriend wasn't with me when he ran out in front of the car, if she wasn't there to spot him before he crept up on me, only to scare him off with a blast of the horn, I honestly might not be here to warn you guys. So please, this holiday season, drive careful, drive slow, and do not stop for any reason on dark deserted stretches of forest highway. Hey friends, thanks for listening. Click that notification bell to be alerted of all future narrations. If you got a story, be sure to submit them to my subreddit, r slash let's read official,

and give and receive feedback from the community, and maybe even hear your story featured on the next video. And join my Discord to interact with me and other listeners directly. 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 yourself up some Let's Read merch on Spreadshirt. And check out the Let's Read podcast, where you can hear all these stories in long compilation form and save huge on data. Located anywhere you listen to podcasts.

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