The Lets Read Podcast - 14: Episode 014 | Halloween & Crazy People Stories | 32 True Scary Horror Stories
Episode Date: December 4, 2018Welcome to the fourteenth episode of The Lets Read Podcast! This podcast includes narrations of true creepy encounters submitted by normal folks just like yourself. Today you'll experience horrifying ...stories about Halloween, Crazy People & Neighborhood Weirdo Stories. HAVE A STORY TO SUBMIT?► www.Reddit.com/r/LetsReadOfficial FOLLOW ME ON- ► Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsread.official/ ► Twitter - https://twitter.com/LetsReadCreepy ►YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/c/letsreadofficial ♫ Background Music: Iron Cthulhu Apocalypse https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFvrqVSJE8E PATREON for EARLY ACCESS!►http://patreon.com/LetsRead
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I'm a male, 48, and this happened when I was a teenager.
It was Halloween night.
My mom and dad had a party to go to, so it was my job to take my little brother trick-or-treating.
We went around the closest neighborhoods before we stopped at my uncle's house like we did every year. My uncle invited us inside to have a glass of apple cider, a piece of pie, and to gossip about the things that had been happening at my school. We helped pass out candy, watched a few of the
classic Halloween movies, and generally had a good time catching up with my uncle and his wife.
It's the usual thing that I had done since I was a kid. It was getting late and we were getting
ready to leave when a shadow passed over the window. It was very unusual for someone to be
lurking around our neighborhood. My uncle had already shut off the lights when we noticed the
shadow. The first thought to go through my mind was the fact that someone had escaped from the
state prison that was relatively close to my uncle's property. Ridiculous I know, but my
overactive imagination would take me to some insane lengths. My uncle told me to take my brother into
his study, lock the door, and don't come out until he says to. I did as told. My brother and I quickly
hid in the study and watched out the window for a few minutes. It seemed to linger on forever. To my utter improbable shock,
a man in an orange jumpsuit crept towards the living room window as I saw from afar.
I had to rub my eyes wondering if my imagination truly was going insane. Now my uncle wasn't and
still isn't the type of guy that you want to mess around with.
He served in the military so he kept a lot of guns in the house to protect his family.
He was a bit of a nutcase. I'm not really sure what was exchanged between the lurker and my uncle
but a gunshot scared my brother enough to pee himself. I unlocked the door to the study and
ran outside to see exactly what had happened. My uncle was knelt
down beside the guy in the orange jumpsuit. To my surprise he was crying and profusely apologizing
for firing the gun. It turns out that my cousin had decided to dress up as a jailbird last minute.
He went to a friend's party and didn't want his dad to find out that he had been drinking which
was the reason why he was lurking around the house. He was trying to sneak in without alarming anyone but he didn't
know that his dad was still awake. My uncle shot his son without hesitation. He was questioned by
the police and ended up getting rid of all of his guns in his house. My cousin recovered just fine
with some time in the hospital and a story to tell now that we look back on and laugh at from time to time.
He went on to graduate college and become a lawyer, actually protecting those who were wrongfully assaulted.
So, in the end, everything came full circle. I'm 18, female, and still scared about what could have happened last year.
For the sake of privacy, I'll call my girlfriend Lisa.
Lisa was a beautiful, smart girl with platinum blonde hair and blue eyes that could make anyone crave her attention.
I hadn't been dating Lisa very long,
maybe five months if that. Our relationship may not have lasted long but I didn't have any hard
feelings after the traumatic event we experienced. My girlfriend and I decided to go out with a bang
for our final Halloween as youths by trick-or-treating as sirens, you know, the mythical
Greek creature that lures men to their death with a special song.
The costumes were on the slightly exposed side, if you know what I mean. We wore short dresses
with ripped stockings and high heels which drew more attention than we had hoped.
We canvassed the neighborhood which visited Mrs. Watson's house, Dr. Harrison's house,
the elderly couple whose name I forgot, and the weird guy at the end
of the road. We went to a party, had a few shots of tequila, and we went to a friend's house to
smoke and eventually made our way back to my house with a bag full of candy. My mom questioned us
about our night on the town. I assumed that she could tell we were a little out of it, but we
engaged in a friendly conversation while sorting through our scrumptious
looking treats. Being a bit clumsy on top of all that was typical for Lisa. She dropped a handful
of candy which made my mom more suspicious and then my dogs Poncho and Lilo gobbled up as much
as they could. We laughed about two chihuahuas licking their lips after eating a lot of caramel candies. It didn't take long for the dogs to start acting weird. They began to foam at the mouth and
violently convulsing. It looked like something straight out of The Exorcist. My mom frantically
scooped up Lilo and Poncho. I called the police and tried my best to calm my scared girlfriend down.
The police confiscated the candy. The vet sadly
declared that our dogs had passed away before they arrived. Lisa and I fell asleep and woke up the
next morning to the officer from the night before. The weird guy at the end of the road was arrested
because he was stupid enough to touch the candy without gloves. Apparently he poisoned the candy
with cyanide because the trashy lesbians are an
abomination to the world and deserve whatever was coming to them. He was charged and sent to prison.
Lisa broke up with me a few days after the incident and checked into an institution because
now she suffered from PTSD. I'm sad that my dogs passed away but I'm grateful that neither Lisa
or anyone else in my family had eaten the candy.
Who knows what could have happened.
I urge you to be careful when you take your little ones or anyone else out trick-or-treating.
Please check the treats that you receive carefully and throw out anything that looks like it had been messed with.
It's for your own safety. I'm a male, 33 years old and this happened the one time I decided
to join in on the Halloween fun. My town is a small tight community who watches out for everyone.
Strangers don't usually come into town without someone
knowing. Here's the events that really made me scared of the world. The Halloween carnival comes
to town every year. It's a town favorite and personally the only thing I have been looking
forward to because my parents finally agreed to let me go. I usually wasn't allowed to participate
in the festivals due to my health issues while growing up. Let's be honest, being
the kid with health issues isn't the ideal way to grow up because no one wanted to be friends with
me yet that year. I was excited to be going with the kids next door though. I suited up in the
warmest clothes I could find, made sure that I had my inhaler and hurried over to the neighbor's house.
The parents drove us to the festival, told us to keep an eye out for
anyone we didn't know and to meet back at the entrance in a few hours. The first thing we did
was gorge on cotton candy. My parents didn't let me have candy because it was bad for you,
go figure. My stomach was aching by the time we walked across the carnival to the ferris wheel.
I decided to sit down while the other kids did their thing.
I was a little upset that I didn't ride with them because they were bragging about how fun it was.
Stan wanted to go play the games they had but Lila, Marco and I wanted to go to the haunted house.
We wasted about 15 minutes arguing before we flipped a coin and decided that the house was next.
And that was a big mistake. The haunted house, the ghoulish favorite for teenagers and irresponsible adults, was the biggest event on our to-do list. Naturally,
the line was about a mile long. Maybe an hour was spent waiting until we reached the entrance.
The worker watching the front door warned us to turn back now or be cursed with the unnerving
nightmares that can be caused.
Stupid, I wish I would have listened to him though. Leela and I held hands while walking
through the first hallway where a zombie jumped out at us. Nothing too scary. The next event was
the ghost of a victim who wouldn't rest until she collected what was hers. I didn't get the chance
to find out what that was because someone grabbed my arm and pulled me collected what was hers. I didn't get the chance to find out what that was
because someone grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the crowd. I screamed as loud as I could but
it was useless with the loud noises and creepy music that was blasting in the cramped building.
I thought it was a part of the show when I noticed that the exit was getting further and further
away. My breathing started to get heavier. My chest felt like it was tightening
and then I started crying. Something warm ran down my leg and I knew I was having a panic attack.
I fumbled the pocket of my coat for my inhaler but dropped it when the person pulling me away
told me to shut up. I'm not really sure what happened after that because I woke up to the
paramedics kneeling beside me holding a mask over my face.
I could finally breathe. The man that had pulled me away from Stan, Lila, and Marco was a stranger
that had been hiding in the building that they used for the haunted house weeks before the
carnival got there. My parents were beyond angry that I had nearly been kidnapped in a crowded
place that should have been safe but the police had failed to have enough patrol around the area. It turns out that Stan had been the first person to realize I wasn't
holding on to Leela anymore. He panicked and grabbed the other two so they could get help.
Their parents found a police officer and they stormed through the haunted house where they
found the man dragging me down an unused corridor. I'm very lucky to have been such a fearful wimp because
the other kids wouldn't have even noticed that I was gone if it weren't for them not being able
to hear my girlish screams. I guess that you really don't know what kind of people can be
lurking around your town no matter how small it may be. You never really know what could happen
in the most crowded of places. I was almost kidnapped in a haunted house and it turns out that I wasn't the first person he had tried to get.
He had been roaming the states for years and now he's locked away in prison somewhere
while I live in the mountains far from society and far from the criminals that used to be harmless.
Don't trust anyone that says a crowded place is the safest.
They're just not seeing the bigger picture.
I was eight at the time that this occurred. I'm 16 now, female, and an introvert because
the memory of that night is still fresh in my mind.
I'm afraid it will be there forever.
Here's a little backstory which is important to this story.
The horror obsessed neighbor that I had when I was a kid had to be the only person who truly loved Halloween.
It was Miss Tompkins' absolute greatest joy in life, being able to decorate.
This year she went all out on decorating for it.
The house was covered in spooky delights, tasty treats were left on the doorstep,
and her famous yet terrifying ghouls were placed in coffins throughout the yard.
Her house was the last stop on every kid's list simply because it was the one place that could
make you scared for your life. I hadn't felt good for the week prior to Halloween so I
laid in bed sick that day. I peered out the window a few times throughout the day but hadn't seen Miss
Tompkins doing the finishing touches to her masterpiece which was weird. She should have
been outside all day taking pride in what she had created but she wasn't. No one had seen her since
the night before and my mom was starting to get nervous
since they were friends. My older brother begged me to go trick-or-treating with him.
I considered lying about feeling better just to get candy but my dad wasn't having it. He told
me that I could help pass out candy. I had soup for dinner, cold medicine and dressed up warmly
with hot chocolate. My dad and I sat on the steps of the
front porch passing out candy to the other kids. They'd dance or tell us a silly joke for the candy
and run down the street. Everyone avoided Miss Tompkins' house because her porch light wasn't on.
She wasn't looking out the windows like she normally does and she wasn't answering my mom's
calls. A lot of the neighbors knocked on her door. She never answered,
so they shrugged it off as her having the flu like much of the neighborhood did, and everyone went
home. My dad and I waited on the porch until about 10.30 that night. We decided to call it quits when
the last of the stragglers went home, and Miss Tompkins never shot off the fireworks like she
did every year before. My brother and I stayed up a little
later than usual to sort through the candy he had gotten. My parents went to sleep and soon after
that so did I. I woke up the next morning to an empty house. My parents were outside talking to
the other neighbors about what went on the night before. I guess my mom had a bad feeling the day
before. She tossed and turned all night so she decided to check and call the police.
A few officers checked the area, knocked on the front door, but got no answers, so they called it a night as well.
A patrol car had been sent earlier the next morning.
He thought the coffin sitting in Tompkins' yard was cool.
He walked up to the nearest coffin to admire the hard work that had been put into the decorating. I guess he touched the fake blood around the corpse's neck, and it
wasn't corn syrup. Miss Tompkins' ex-boyfriend had been jealous of her new relationship.
He had been harassing her for weeks about getting back together, but she refused. She told him that
she was doing well since they had broken up and he didn't take that so
well. He waited until early Halloween morning to break into her house, cut her throat while she was
sleeping, and he put makeup on her face. He dragged her out of the house and stuffed her body in the
coffin before leaving town, and to my knowledge he hadn't been caught and her death was never
justified. Miss Tompkins was a good woman that just wanted out of an abusive relationship.
I guess she finally got what she wanted, but not the way that she had hoped.
Because of how elegant her yard was decorated, it took an entire day to find her.
Please be careful what or who you let into your life, or you might just end up like Miss
Tompkins, just a ghoulish decoration on display for the entire town to see.
I'm a female, 29, and this killed my Halloween vibe.
My mentally ill neighbor Ed was on medication the entire time I lived next to him. He was schizophrenic, which means that he hears and
possibly sees things that aren't real. He used to freak out and have a fit about what the voices
were telling him to do. His parents finally decided to get him help after he was arrested
for assaulting one of his co-workers.
Ed stopped hallucinating and hearing the voices after he started taking medicine,
and he was better, or so I thought. You could actually hold a decent conversation with him for more than two minutes. He was a nice, kind man when he wasn't crazy. The neighbors had
actually stopped being afraid to let their kids play outside. I could finally get a good night's
sleep without hearing Ed's angry voice screaming for people to leave him alone, and I could finally
have my boyfriend back. My parents would have had a heart attack if they knew that I had secretly
dated Ed. Like I said, he was a good man while on the medicine and I couldn't help but love him.
Mr. and Mrs. Cole had to put up with Ed's mental condition for a long
time before they finally hit their breaking point. They sent him to a mental institution where the
doctors could treat his condition. Electroshock therapy and whatever they wanted to call it.
I couldn't do anything to stop his parents from sending him back despite him begging me to help.
I felt terrible and lost without him around because I couldn't really get
inspired to decorate for Halloween when Ed wasn't there to tell me which decorations should be
placed where. Ed was always interested in the legend behind Halloween so I guess you could say
that he thoroughly enjoyed the horrific side to things. It was difficult to fall asleep without
hearing him shuffling around in his room through my open bedroom window.
I would tell you the conversation that I had with Ed on Halloween morning, but I don't think it would be very appropriate due to the nature of it.
The evening of Halloween was long, boring, and uneventful.
My parents were at a party which left me and my best friend home alone to pass out the candy.
My dad wanted me to lock the doors and call the police
if I were to show up. Apparently he was released from the institution earlier that afternoon
and left home shortly after he had gotten there. He didn't talk to me before leaving so I was
worried about where he could have went. My idiot self didn't bother to check the spot where we'd
met. That was really stupid on my part. My friend and I were watching a
horror movie, the volume blasting causing us to not hear anything happening around the house or
outside. I paused the movie for a bathroom break when we heard screaming outside. I ran to the
front door to see what was wrong. Ed was hanging from the balcony of his house. The doctor at the
mental institution had been bribed by Ed's dad to do whatever was necessary to fix his son.
He wanted the little boy that wasn't crazy back so the doctor did just that.
He terrorized Ed the entire time he was at the institution which is the reason why Ed had stopped taking his medication in the first place.
My boyfriend was so desperate to escape the horrible
pain of his mind that he took his own life. I never got to say goodbye to Ed, but I have never
forgotten him. If you're struggling or someone you know is struggling with any type of disorder like
Ed's, please, please, please listen to what they're telling you even if it sounds insane.
This was my horrific Halloween nightmare. Please, please, please, listen to what they're telling you even if it sounds insane.
This was my horrific Halloween nightmare.
I'm a male, 17, and this happened last year.
Halloween was never my thing.
I just didn't care about the holiday.
I had planned on staying home, playing my video games and eating pizza, but my friend somehow convinced me to go to a party at this kid's house, and I knew the kid from school. I'd seen him
around a few times. I was told that there was going to be a bunch of kids from my school there,
so I figured, what the heck. I can have free drinks, snacks, I can go
hang out with friends and get away from my dad scaring little kids for a few hours. Totally worth
skipping my normal tradition. My dad begged me to stay home and help him pass out the candy but
I just wasn't feeling it. I told him that I'd be home before midnight. He was nice enough and my
friend Jay pulled up and I didn't waste any time jumping into the car
with him. My dad probably wasn't happy about me riding with Jay since he'd had more speeding
tickets than anyone I knew. Jay parked a few blocks away from the party. We walked up the
sidewalk joking about how we would get to see a fight and was happy to see our other friends
waiting for us. I already had a bad feeling about the party.
We weren't at the party very long before the bad feeling got worse. The party was going just as I had anticipated it would. However, who I hadn't expected to see, let's call her Marsha, was there.
Marsha and I dated for two years before she found out that I was cheating on her the entire time.
Things didn't end well between us and before too long she had a new boyfriend. We'll call him Dave. Dave was an
idiot. He bossed Marsha around, threatened any guy who talked to her and had seen the inside of a
jail cell one too many times. I was going to say something to Dave. I had finally had enough of his
crap but my friends told me to ignore them.
Marsha wasn't worth getting into trouble over, so I left it at that and joined the crowd outside by the pool.
I threw back quite a few shots of whiskey before challenging myself to win at beer pong.
I kicked Major Butt at that.
My friend tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to Marsha.
Of course, she had to be walking towards me.
I glared at her until she stopped in front of me. I didn't expect to see you here. I growled. Yeah, she chuckled. I wasn't
going to come here, but Dave insisted on seeing the cheating idiot. Well, here I am. I wouldn't
get drunk if I were you. Never know what's going to happen.
She smiled.
What? I thought to myself,
while Marsha walked back over to her boyfriend.
Why would she say something like that?
I mean, I knew that she could hold a grudge,
but it felt more like a threat to me.
I kind of shook the thought away from my mind and stuck close to my friends.
We were talking about who would likely
graduate high school and become a criminal, just the usual things teenagers like to think about,
I guess. I snacked on several things nearby to try and sober up. I generally was all enjoying
the company of my classmates before some jerk smacked my drink out of my hand. I turned around
to see Dave standing behind me. He was livid. His cheeks
were beet red and his jaw was clenched. That evil look in his eye brought out the inner a-hole in me.
We exchanged some not nice words and I was the idiot who threw the first punch.
Brawling hadn't ever been my strong suit. Naturally, the criminal destroyed me. I dumped my
beer on Dave and he pulled a rather large hunting knife.
I nearly crapped myself when I saw that thing.
I knew Dave was dangerous but I never thought that he'd bring a knife to a party.
I felt like I was done.
I tried to run away as quickly as possible but I remember the entire world spinning.
I was seeing spots and I was completely out of my mind.
It's hard to run when you can barely form a thought. Dave grabbed hold of my shirt and
pushed me to the ground. I will spare you the gruesome details. Needless to say, I now have
a prosthetic hand and one incredibly sweet scar from my temple to my jaw. Dave, I will forever regret, was never locked up
because he had an incredibly good lawyer and I spent a long time in the hospital recovering with
incredible pain medication but I still hate Halloween. I hate Halloween and I'm basically
a decoration year-round so no, I don't think that I'll think of Halloween the same.
Halloween revenge.
It's basically the best way to never get caught because there are a lot of other criminals roaming the streets on that night.
I'm a female, 42, and this is why I can't trust the holiday.
My mom and dad adopted me when I was three months old because my birth parents couldn't afford to have a child at the time,
which is why they gave me the best shot at a good life.
My adoptive parents have been the best parents that I could have asked for.
They have done everything for me and still continue to be my support system when things go wrong. I'm grateful for them and I'm glad that they weren't harmed on
that night. Halloween was a good time of year for me. I got to spend it with my friends and family.
I was able to decorate the house and watch all of the kids in the neighborhood get a good scare
from my house. I generally enjoyed being able to sip on apple cider while telling spooky
stories to the neighbor's two kids. They were good kids that I babysat when I was home from college.
I was home for the weekend so I spent as much time with my parents as I could before I had to go back
and finish out the semester. My mom had to make a last minute shopping trip so I opted to go with
her. We had been walking down the street for about
45 minutes before I even noticed that people passing by were giving us questionable looks.
I continued for another few minutes before I leaned close to my mom.
What are they looking at? I asked my mom. They're staring at you, she whispered.
Why though? I don't know any of them. them i frowned don't think too much of it honey
they probably just confused you for someone else probably i couldn't stop thinking about the weird
looks that those people had given me i was just walking through town with my mom before we had
to pass candy out we grabbed lunch finish our last minute shopping and headed home to get ready for the
night to begin. The freaking sight that I went home to was bizarre. My dad had been watching
the news and saw a picture of me. Apparently I had robbed a bank and shot two people who were
in critical condition earlier that week. The thing that baffled me the most was the fact that I'd
never done anything illegal in my entire life.
The fact that I was wanted for a crime that I didn't commit sent my mom into high alert.
She started talking about the what-ifs of the situation and my dad seemed to know what she was talking about.
The police showed up at my house, arrested me and brought me in to ask me questions about the robbings and shootings earlier that week. They did release me, but they told me not to leave town because they'd be back if they had
any more questions. My family was livid. The entire thing made me sick to my stomach.
I laid down in my room for a while before waking up to hear someone screaming downstairs.
I hurried down the staircase to see a girl who looked like me screaming at my
parents. She was demanding to know why they didn't take her too. Turns out that I was an identical
twin. My parents adopted me after another family had adopted her. I got the better end of the
adoption because my parents had money, were educated, and had good careers whereas her
parents were drug dealers and she'd
been abused her entire life. She dropped out of high school, skipped college, and became a stripper
at some club three cities over. Her parents had told her about me when she was 21. It took her a
few years to finally track me down and she stalked me for months after finding me. This girl was
committing crimes in my town
and people thought it was me all because I didn't know that I had a twin.
My twin was on something, some sort of drug. She was angry and finally had enough of my mom
begging for her to just leave us alone that she shot her right in my mom's leg.
She ran away from the house. I called for help and my mom was taken to the hospital.
The police later arrested my sister for attempting to rob a convenience store a few blocks from my
house and she was charged for the crimes she committed and sentenced with 30 years in prison.
She writes me occasionally. She threatens my parents and myself because she still can't let
go of the fact that I grew up with a better life.
At times, I'm still baffled at the fact that she exists at all.
It truly was like a horror movie.
I feel bad for her, but it's not something that could have been prevented.
It happens, and Halloween isn't my holiday anymore.
All because of my insane twin. The holidays are just around the corner.
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Number 15. My dad met Richard Ramirez while working as a prison guard.
My dad is probably the most jaded person I know.
I have never seen him intimidated by anyone.
When he was retelling this story, he got a really scared look on his face.
For some context, Richard Ramirez was the second night stalker in Southern California. He had
recently been caught and was temporarily being housed in the prison my dad worked at.
My dad was assigned to him and after meeting him, he refused to ever go near him again.
There were these women that would visit him and bring him things, and they always looked terrified.
But this man was so manipulative and effective with speech that they were completely under his control.
He would look you directly in the eye and say things like,
Are you happy with your life?
And,
I can get you anything you could ever want if you do what I say.
The worst part is that you would believe it. He had this way of speaking and getting inside
your head that made you feel powerless and like you had to rely on him. My dad said that out of
all of his years in law enforcement, to this day that is the only time that he felt like he was in the presence of someone truly evil.
Number 14.
So, this literally just happened about 6 hours ago.
I watch a lot of creepy stories on YouTube and had heard of Reddit through there.
This is one of those instances in life that really makes you wonder how fucked up people
really are and that true monsters look like humans. I hope this story gets read and can help save a life someday.
Backstory My wife and I don't live together.
She had become abusive over the last few months, mostly towards our daughter.
Our daughter is almost 18 months old and is my whole world.
I am unemployed at the moment, but my mother had been helping me out a lot.
Today around 4pm I took my daughter to the store.
I usually do this around the time she wakes up from her nap.
My daughter is a very active child and can't seem to sit still for more than 10 minutes without getting cranky.
I usually let her walk with me, holding her hand and patiently
walking at her pace. I usually get just a juice for her, but had to get some extra groceries that
I was short on, flour, sugar, and some noodles. I also remembered we were low on milk and grabbed
a gallon on our way back. With all that I was carrying,
I wasn't able to hold her hand. I made sure to walk behind her, but that only makes her walk
slowly. As we made our way to the registers, I was continuously urging her to keep walking,
which she would do, but only for a second before her attention would get drawn
to another rickety box with whatever was on sale, or she would see something colorful on her lower
shelf. I was getting a bit frustrated, but I wasn't showing it in my voice. I kept urging her
to keep walking and she kept getting sidetracked. With everything I was carrying, I started to wish I had grabbed a basket.
At the front, their customer service desk holds register 1, which was thankfully open.
I want to take the time to mention that my daughter is very fond of saying hi and waving at everyone. I set everything up to get rung up but the service
attendant was busy with a return at the customer service area so I had to wait. The entrance to
the store is to my right. The only exit is behind the service desk which leads into the small foyer
before leading to the other doors. As people enter, they have to pass the
customer service desk. I was being fatherly to my daughter, trying to entertain her with patty cake
and the itsy bitsy spider while we waited for the cashier to check us out. My daughter would
frequently wave at people passing and say hi in her squeaky toddler voice.
Some people would smile and wave while others would stop to adore her.
At this point, I'm used to people doing that.
It makes me happy knowing my daughter isn't a shy, cranky little asshole like some of the kids you see in the stores like this. The lady was ready to check
us out and I told my daughter to hold my hand since I wouldn't be looking her way. I had to
pull my wallet out to retrieve my debit card to pay for the groceries and let her hand go for a
moment. I kept looking her way to make sure she wasn't wandering off. The lady went to hand me my receipt,
when she all of a sudden yelled at someone behind me.
What are you doing with his daughter?
She bellowed, as I turned to look at a man who had picked her up
and started running towards the entrance doors.
I was shocked.
The doors didn't open since they were a one-way set of doors,
and the cashier quickly picked up the phone yelling that she was calling the police.
I was stunned at the point of immobilization, but quickly realized what was going on.
I have a pocket knife that I usually carry on me so I can break the seal on my daughter's juice.
I quickly ran after the man as someone started to make their way through the entrance doors.
He didn't get a chance to run through
before I slammed my fist across his temple.
I decided not to use the knife in case I might get in trouble.
The man stumbled and I grabbed my daughter from his arms.
He then proceeded to run out the door empty-handed.
The police arrived about five minutes later and asked me what I had seen. I explained that I
hadn't seen the man's face since he had shaggy long hair and a beard. He was also wearing a hoodie
which wasn't that much of a surprise. They took the statement of several witnesses, including the cashiers,
and had already had other officers searching the area.
Someone had said the guy had ran behind the building,
but the officers didn't find anyone.
The police took us home and then asked more questions like,
Have you seen him before?
Do you know anyone who looks like the man?
and then proceeded to ask about the home life.
CPS had been over earlier in the day to discuss my wife's mental health plan
and the police had been there earlier as well.
The officers asked if we needed any groceries or anything else.
I told them no.
The officers left, leaving me their cards in case I saw the guy around the area.
About twenty minutes later, I got a knock at the door. To my surprise, the officers had returned with the largest box of pampered diapers I had ever seen,
a large box of wipes, about six large Wingo bags of groceries, and a couple bags of toys.
I fell to my knees and cried after they left us.
I had spent almost five minutes choking back tears as I thanked them.
They had left us with a Christmas card saying I was a strong father to have had so much go on recently and that my daughter was lucky to have such a great father.
There was a hundred dollars in the card too, wrapped in a note that said to get a drink or
two if I needed it. I don't drink, so I will probably get some extra Christmas presents from my mom and daughter.
So, to the fucker that tried to kidnap my daughter, I hope the police find you.
Number 13.
Mike Tyson.
And not the Mike today that'll take a selfie with you for Instagram just because you asked.
But the coked up one who just got his face tattooed and would eat your kids if he ever heard the word selfie come out of your mouth.
It was in 02 or 03 at a BET awards after party in LA. I'm at the bar waiting for drinks and he comes up right beside me, by himself,
no bodyguards, no friends, no one. He's talking shit about everyone, the bartender, waitress,
go-go dancer, the guy to his left, and before he could say anything about me, I look over and give him a,
what's up Mike? Keep in mind, I'm starstruck as fuck, but I deliver that, what's up Mike,
so calmly you would have thought I knew the man for years. After I said that, he looked at me and his face lit up and gave me a hug. Now, I'm 6'2", Mike's maybe 5'9", and I've never felt so small. This hug felt like I had just walked into a jail cell,
and there was Bubba waiting for some fresh meat. I've yet to have a more uncomfortable hug in my life. After he lets go, we have a
conversation, mostly about me being in the Air Force that lasts for maybe five minutes.
This again was one of the most confusing conversations I've ever had. There were
points in the conversation where I thought that he was about to whoop my ass.
He would talk about George Bush and why I would want to serve a guy like that while looking at me dead in the eye like there's a ref between us asking to touch gloves.
Then he would start smiling and finish it with a, man this is a great party.
Definitely one of the scariest and most what the fuck moments of my life.
I met some fucked up people and been in some sketchy situations,
but meeting Mike tops them all just for the simple fact that I've never had someone put me on an emotional rollercoaster like that from a five minute conversation.
Number 12. Knew a guy, 5'8 or so, always dressed like an old school librarian. Quiet guy,
friendly. We were having drinks after work and some 6'2 Neanderthal was getting rough with some
girl outside the bar. The Neanderthal had getting rough with some girl outside the bar.
The Neanderthal had four similarly caveman-like friends with him.
I'm a fairly big guy and I stepped in and said,
Mate, how about you step back and leave the lady alone?
This gorilla turned on me and punched me in the face before I knew what was happening and I'm on my ass.
All five of them moved towards me when my friend stepped in and abso-fucking-lutely obliterated all five in about 30 seconds.
There was no fancy flying kicks or such.
His fighting style was the most brutally understated thing I had ever seen. It was efficient,
it was cold, and these guys got hurt bad. Turns out he was like an 8th generation military man
from some African family that took their whole soldier thing terribly serious, and had spent a dozen years in some South African recon commando
special forces para-fucking-sniper unit. Before that, he reckoned his military service actually
started when he was four, as the whole extended family was run like some military training camp.
He bailed from South Africa and moved to Australia
and became an accountant. 11. I was waiting in the general lobby of the emergency room
waiting for my wife, girlfriend at the time. She was taken to a separate room where she could get scanned for some abdominal pains.
Anyways, there was an older gentleman, mid-forties, who sat right next to me and starts a conversation with me.
I didn't pay too much mind to it, keeping it to small talk.
Well, this guy goes on to tell me that he comes in to commit himself and that he's required to do it at least once a month.
I was like, oh yeah sure, not in a rude way but enough to make it believable that I'm intrigued.
He goes on about other stuff, what he's done in the past years, etc.
Five hours go by and I haven't heard from my girlfriend.
I get noticeably worried and he takes notice. He states that he can take me to her.
I said that it's nothing to worry about and that I'm expecting a call any minute from her.
But he insisted. Literally gets up, walks past the security guards and nurses
they don't say anything to him
in fact
they have a chit chat
and talk as if they are best friends
on first name basis
in the end
they give him and I the okay
to go see my girlfriend
he led me through the labyrinth of hallways
and directly to her
without getting lost, like he's been there before. I chat with my girlfriend, got an update from her,
then went back to the lobby. As I sat down, the guy goes on about what he and his bro used to do
when they were little. Stupid kid things, blah blah blah. Then the
instant with the kitten, that's when my focus shifted. He said that he put a kitten in the
microwave and turned it on, and recalls the noises the poor animal made in its last moments. I'll spare other details. My eyes came to meet his. A man who I just met a
few hours ago and all I could feel was hatred towards him now. His eyes were just hollow,
hard to describe, yet piercing. He said something that I'll never forget. I got your attention now, boy.
Didn't even crack a smile.
Number 10.
I met a Vietnam vet on a camping trip named Lube.
No shit.
He looked like a poster child for the Navy sailor.
Just a broad mustache dude. He was built like the bull for the Navy Sailor. Just a broad, mustache dude.
He was built like the bulldog from Tom and Jerry.
Just a huge guy.
Also one of the nicest guys I've ever met.
I asked him for tips as he was making char,
and he showed me how to properly sharpen my knife.
Eventually he started telling stories,
and people asked what he did to get so big.
He says, every morning when I wake up, I roll onto the floor and do a thousand push-ups,
then I flip over and do a thousand sit-ups. Well, then I noticed this piece of beef jerky looking stuff hanging from some twine around his neck, so I asked what it was.
He kinda laughed and then said,
Well, when I came back from Nam, I was pretty messed up.
I ended up slicing off the meat off the front of my shin and then jerking it. He then rolls up his pant leg and
shows us this huge scar on his shin, much bigger than the piece on his necklace. So I said,
that's a lot bigger than the piece around your neck. Yeah, I've been chewing on it. This was in like 1999, and I thought surely this guy is just telling stories.
So I asked another guy I knew who served with him.
Nope, those stories are true.
This badass sliced his own leg meat off, jerkied it, and hung it around his neck, and the fucker would
chew on it. I was still pretty skeptical. I mean, sure, he's huge and mean looking,
but he's so nice. Sure enough, the next morning I see him literally roll out of his hammock, land on his chest and
start pounding out push ups.
Maybe not your typical scary story but for damn sure someone I want to really like me.
I have other stories about him if you're interested.
Story 1 So while we were camping, I seem to remember
him telling this story. Lou loved knives, but he
didn't look at them as tools. Well, in the 90s, he lived in a really bad area, so he used to patrol
his neighborhood in the evening to make sure everything was copacetic. Apparently one time,
he was walking down the street and he comes upon this gang of guys.
One of them pulls a switchblade on him and demands his money. Apparently along the lines of
give me what you got or I'm gonna stab you old man. So Lou being Lou reaches behind his back and pulls out what I remember hearing was a bowie knife
and says, like this, then runs the knife through the other forearm, like straight through,
to the guard. Apparently the guy's response was screaming, you're crazy, to which Lube replied you're damn right
then after they ran off
he went home
and cleaned and stitched himself up
he did have a ton of knives with him
and hanging around his neck
besides what I assume was jerkied flesh
was also a small straight knife
a medium straight knife
and some kind of turquoise jewelry.
Story 2. So if any of you remember the hunt for Eric Rudolph in the late 90s and early 2000s,
he was wanted in connection with several bombings, but had taken refuge in the Appalachia wilderness. The FBI had been hunting him for some time,
and there was another militia group that was out there assisting the FBI with the search.
Lube and a couple of other guys on this camping trip had been a part of that.
They're out there searching for this guy,
basically making a grid of the area and then searching the grid
a square at a time. So this new guy shows up out of nowhere and is really in the middle of
everything and wanting to go on each search and basically acting really suspicious. So a couple
of guys decide he might be a mole or a friend of the guy they're looking for who was reporting on where
we are searching and giving him a heads up. Either that or he's an FBI mole. Either way,
it makes them uneasy. Supposedly the FBI method of searching the Carolina forest
was to drive down the roads at moderate speed with a lookout on each side of the vehicle,
so I don't think their search was going very well, and then again, I wasn't there.
But anyway, no one really likes or trusts this guy, so while everyone is getting ready to go out,
they tell the guy to watch camp that day, and for Lou to keep an eye on the guy they don't trust.
I'm not sure what else was said. I'm not sure what Lube heard. All I know is when my dad,
who had been part of the group, came back to the camp a little early. He'd gotten stung by a ton
of wasps or hornets. All he saw was this guy tied head to toe to a tree with his hand tied
behind him. Then Lube sitting about three feet away from the guy in a camp chair sharpening that
bowie knife of his and looking the tied up guy dead in the eyes. They had been gone for 8 hours. My dad runs up to him like,
What the hell, Lube?
Well, you told me to keep an eye on him,
and that's what I've been doing.
He ain't going anywhere, Lube says,
with a shitting grin on his face.
I don't think that guy came back to camp. Number 9.
So this was told to me by an old family friend, Nikki, numerous times as a kid growing up,
as one of those life advice stories to keep in mind through the years.
And to her credit, I have never forgotten it. Whenever anything associated with hitchhiking
comes up, it always springs to mind and probably always will. It makes me a bit ill whenever I
think about it, actually. So, Nikki, who grew up at the same time as my dad, so this was about the early 80s I believe,
was a young woman in her mid-20s. She's one of those real kind-hearted souls,
always willing to help another out in a time of need, you know. And I can't imagine her being
anything other than that when she was younger, so I totally see her doing this too.
So, driving into the city, about two hours or so drive out from town,
she saw a man walking down the side of the road.
As she neared, he turned and, in typical hitchhiker manner, stuck out the old arm and thumb.
Nicky, bless her heart, pulled over and asked him if he needed any help. She told me that he was really polite, if not a bit shy. When he asked her a
lift into the city, Nikki gave a smile and popped open the passenger door for the guy,
who tossed his bag into the back seat and buckled up for the ride
ahead. They talked pleasantly for most of the trip, about friends, the news, etc. you know,
happy small talk. She felt that they were getting on really well and even bought him dinner at the
pitch stop a little over halfway there. She says he seemed really
flustered and awkward when she paid, but one of the things they had talked about was money and
how he was pretty dang strapped for cash, which was why he was hitchhiking in the first place,
but he eventually relented and they went on their way. As soon as they got into the city,
he thanked her profusely for the ride and the food and asked to be dropped off once they hit downtown.
Before getting out,
he asked for Nikki's phone number
so he could contact her someday and catch up.
Thrilled at the prospect of knowing how her new friend was faring,
Nikki wrote it down for him and drove off with the warm feeling of a good deed done.
Now I'm sorry if you were expecting something creepy to have happened by now,
but I think this is what freaked me out so much as a kid.
How nice everything seemed to have worked out.
Nikki gets this crease in her forehead and a funny look in
her eye when she tells me the next part. How a week later she got a phone call from her driving
buddy. He didn't let her get a word in edgewise after hello and told her that she should thank
God that she was raised so nice,
because when he first got in her car,
he was planning on raping and murdering her once they got to that pit stop,
that he was going to steal that car,
and dump her body in a ditch further down the road and go on his merry way.
But after she talked with him so kindly,
and treated him to dinner with a smile on her face
he couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't think that he could live with himself after
doing that to such a nice lady. Please, please Nikki please, never ever pick up another hitchhiker then he hung up the phone Nikki never got a call from
him again when she tried redialing the number she got a payphone number eight my dad worked
at a beachside bar and grill when I was little. In addition to being a chef, he ran and DJ'd the
bike and car shows for the restaurant. The car shows were usually on Wednesdays and the bike
nights were on Friday. A small detail, but important to the story. The car shows were on a
school night, so I was rarely allowed to go, but my father would often bring me to the bike nights.
By all accounts, I was an adorable and pretty mellow kid and the bikers absolutely loved me.
And yes, you might say that this was no environment for a little girl but I learned a lot about loyalty and friendship from being around bikers
my dad told me that some of them would call into the restaurant just to ask if I would be there
that week they'd often bring me stuffed animals and candy my favorite of the bikers was a man
that I affectionately called uncle Teddy he was a friend of my parents and an absolute
mountain of a man around six eight and four hundred pounds easily he was an
ex-marine who loved his Harley and the cigars and every week for five years he
would bring me a Butterfinger and a Beanie Baby. I was six years old the night it happened in 2003.
My father brought me to the bike show as he normally did but I couldn't keep my eyes
open past 8pm.
The show didn't end until 10 so my dad had gotten into the habit of putting an air mattress
in the back of the restaurant and he and Teddy would check on me
every 15 minutes I was asleep when I felt a hand on my shoulder it was a man that I'd seen around
before and he wasn't dressed in biker gear he was wearing a short sleeve plaid shirt and jeans and looked greasy but not particularly scary. He smiled at me and told me that his name
was Sean and that he was a friend of my dad's and that my dad had asked him to drive me home.
My parents had tried to ingrain stranger danger in me and they told me a thousand times never to
talk to anyone I didn't know. but he knew mine and my dad's name
as well as the nickname everyone called me and I totally bought it. I got up, grabbed the flamingo
beanie baby Uncle Teddy had given me and started to walk towards the parking lot.
Sean didn't have a bike, he had a very old four-door sedan. He opened the back door for me
and I climbed inside. You know how in senior citizens' homes they often have plastic-wrapped
couches or chairs? That's what the back seat of his car was like, totally covered in plastic.
I think now that it was probably so there would be no trace of DNA
left behind. Sean started to drive away and to this day I can't believe how lucky I got.
He had parked the car behind the restaurant in a way that it wasn't immediately visible to the
bike show. But as he pulled away, I saw Teddy heading through the
door, presumably to check on me. He just happened to look up at the exact moment, probably to
acknowledge the car, and I smiled at him. Uncle Teddy didn't waste a moment, didn't even stop to
tell my dad what was going on. He got on his bike and was on that car's ass
before we had even totally cleared the avenue that led out of the parking lot.
The avenue that you had to take to get to the restaurant was long,
about a mile and a half,
and then you had to go down another long road before it made it to the highway.
Sean saw Teddy approaching in
his rear view and attempted to speed up but he must have realized it was futile. He'd
been seen and Teddy had his license plate number and a good description. Sean stopped
the car, turned around and told me very calmly to get out of the car.
I was scared by this point and I didn't waste a moment climbing out and running to Teddy.
Sean burnt rubber driving away and Teddy held me for a moment before putting me on the back of his bike and taking me back to my dad.
By the time we got back, cops had been called and they were surrounding the place.
A lot of the show had emptied out and my dad was sobbing and screaming on the sidewalk
outside of the restaurant.
I'll never forget that moment.
I ran up to him, hugged him as tightly as I could and then the rest is all a blur.
I talked to the cops, I talked to my dad, I even went down to the station and spoke to a sketch artist.
I didn't even get home until around 2am.
Teddy never left my side.
An APB was put out on the vehicle, which had been reported as stolen. The sketch circulated around the local news station, but it didn't turn up anything concrete.
At one point, I was asked to look at a lineup, but none of them were him.
Fast forward about 8 years.
I was 14, and my dad decided I was old enough to know what happened. Sean had been
spotted lurking around the bike show a few times before that night and was a customer at the
restaurant fairly regularly. He knew my nickname because he had been watching me for over a month.
He knew my schedule and consequently how often Teddy and my dad checked on me.
When his evil plan was botched and Teddy brought me back to the show, everyone had left.
I'd assumed it was because the police had been investigating a crime scene, but I was wrong.
They were all out looking for Sean.
Teddy told them the make and model of the car with a description of Sean
and one of the guys thought that he sounded like a guy that frequented one of the biker bars downtown.
I remember my dad paused for a long time and I asked him what happened after that.
They found him.
Number 7. I went to high school with this terrifying girl. After that, they found him.
Number 7.
I went to high school with this terrifying girl.
She was overweight, never shaved her legs or anything for that matter, had acne all
over her body and looked like she had never showered.
Aside from her physical appearance, the things she said were really fucking creepy.
She would always talk about death and killing people. She shaved her head one day, Britney
Spears style, and kept it like that for months. She had been suspended several times for making
threats on other students. Not the, I'm gonna kick your ass
kind, but the, I swear I'm gonna kill you if you come to school tomorrow threats.
In class she would always doodle pictures of guns and knives. She had been removed from class
multiple times for freaking out on teachers and students, and even flipped a desk one time. She wasn't bullied
that badly. People mostly just avoided her. I was always nice to her, mostly because I was
fucking scared of her. Anyways, one day I'm in class talking to my friend about school clubs.
The scary girl came up and started talking to us.
My friend was really freaked out, but I tried to make conversation.
She ended up saying something along the lines of,
Yeah, I've always wanted to start the Future School Shooters of America Club.
I was thoroughly freaked out.
My friend and I decided to go to guidance and tell a counselor about it.
I hadn't seen her since.
I have no idea what happened to her.
Sometimes I feel bad about it, knowing that I probably got her expelled.
But another part of me says that I may have stopped a school shooting.
Number 6. A friend of mine. He's only 19, but there's seriously something dark about him.
One time we were in a parking lot with some friends and this jerk yells at us across the lot, just being a d-bag. I ignore him, whatever,
but my friend gave him this look. I don't know how to explain it. It was like death incarnate,
like whatever thoughts he had became physical. I was seriously afraid. It wasn't just an angry look. It was literally murderous.
Not too long after he looked at me in a rapey sort of way. It was like he looked through me.
Boy, I felt weird. Thing is, I can now recognize that particular look. Not too long after that incident, I was watching a TV
documentary about Chinese kids addicted to the internet being put in special camps.
At one point, a boy is told to talk with his father about his feelings.
Anyway, the boy gave him the exact same look as my friend did.
I told my mom.
He wants to kill him.
Sure enough, not a few moments later, he gets up and almost strangles his dad before people pull him off.
My mom was shocked.
I've seen actors try to pull it off.
Nope.
It cannot be replicated.
Anyway, there's just something about my friend. He seems normal around other people and stuff.
But if I try to talk to him one on one after he's been quiet for a bit, I just don't know. I try to avoid looking him in the eyes. It's just creepy. I get a feeling like there's a pressure in my chest and stomach, just warning me to run.
Number five. I've met and have known gangsters, drug dealers, killers, ex-spec op soldiers and two people that have killed their abusive
murderous parents in my time I was never scared or intimidated by any of them because I knew they
weren't crazy all except one we'll call him Kenny Kenny was recently released from jail after 10 years.
Apparently he has ties to the local mob and was actually pretty high up.
We were sitting in a coffee shop when he came in.
My friend is the son of one of Kenny's circle so he comes over and says hi, introduces himself
to me.
Right away, I could tell this guy was off.
He was cold in his demeanor and he had dead eyes.
He gave off a really bad vibe, like I could kill you without batting an eye.
Anyway, I guess he was there to extort the owner of the shop he was back in town so he wanted his dues after he had spoke with us he had had a heated discussion with the owner the shop got
quiet Kenny's entourage made their presence known and discouraged anyone intervening. At this point, the owner's girlfriend
got in Kenny's face and without hesitation, he started beating her mercilessly. No one could do
anything without risking some serious consequences. Even the owner had to sit and watch while Kenny went to town on his girlfriend.
It was disturbing.
Needless to say, everyone noped the fuck out real quick.
Never saw the guy again, but heard he got locked up again two months later on extortion and attempted murder charges.
Some people just don't belong out here.
Number 4. Back in the early mid-1970s, my mother and I lived in the Pacific Northwest. I was about 6 years old. We were on an offbeat road right out of Seattle. A very dark night, no moon and a wisp of fog.
We saw a Volkswagen Beetle on the side of the road with their emergency flashers on
and a rather good looking guy, as my mom describes him, with his arm in a sling waving us down.
My mom pulled over, being the kind woman that would help anybody in
need, and he looked normal. Mom rolled down her window and asked if she could help, and the guy
asked my mom if she could help him get the last lug nut off his tire so he could change his flat.
So my mother introduces herself and he said, hello, my name is Ted and then smiled
and then looked at me, reached over and shook my hand and asked my name and I think I got the bad
vibe as well because I said nothing to him. My mom said something about his smile really made her uncomfortable
and then she noticed that he was missing the passenger seat in his beetle.
So she rolls the window back up and said she would call a tow truck to come help him at the
next city. Then speeds away while looking in her rear mirror, she sees him taking off the sling
and getting back in the beetle and took off very fast in the opposite direction.
So that's the night, at six years old, I shook the hand of Ted Bundy.
Number 3. One time when I was about 17, my friend and I were out for a walk. We were underage at the time,
so we had to do that when we wanted to smoke. He lived in Pilsen. For those of you unfamiliar
with the neighborhood, it was a mostly Hispanic neighborhood in Chicago that was run for a while by gangs. It wasn't the worst
neighborhood, but both of us grew up there. My parent moved when I was 7 and we went to school
there. Now, it's pretty safe since gentrification, but back then it was still mostly run by gangs.
We were used to walking around there and being left alone
on our smoke breaks. This one time we were out, we went up to the street that was next to a giant
wall with the train tracks next to it. People would tag it all the time and the city would
cover it up, so every time we walked by there we would see something different on the wall.
We were just talking and joking when we saw a couple of guys in front of us.
We were used to taking this weird interaction between us crossing paths where we both just said hey with a head nod and continued on our business.
This time was different.
The leader of the group kept walking behind us, then he caught up to us. and continued on our business. This time was different.
The leader of the group kept walking behind us.
Then he caught up to us and asked us to bum a smoke.
I gave him one and a light.
He took a drag and said,
Let's keep walking.
Both me and my friend looked at each other with a bit of concern,
but we just kept walking.
He asked us where we were from.
My friend told him the intersection he lived on, and I told him one that I used to live off of.
Now, keep in mind this guy was pretty intimidating.
There was two of us, and we've gotten into fights before with guys bigger than him, but this guy was scary.
His tone was really cold.
He stayed a few steps behind us and he was sketchy.
He stops, takes a drag and says,
No shit.
We said yeah.
Then all of a sudden, it was like we were talking to a completely different person.
He smiled.
He walked at our pace.
He opened up to us.
During that walk he told us about how much he hated what was happening to the neighborhood
and the effects it had on him,
his business and his family.
After he finished smoking he walked off back.
I don't know how important he was to the gangs there, but he seemed pretty important. Most of
all, he was a pretty scary dude to be around before he decided you were okay.
Number 2. One time I was in an outdoor bar area with my friends getting a drink.
I'm at the bar.
It's pretty crowded.
Dude comes up beside me and isn't really looking to get a drink.
He's just kind of looking at me really intensely.
He's a really big guy.
Probably 6'3", 220 pounds plus of just muscle,
and I'm like 6 foot and maybe 160. And he nonchalantly starts talking about his favorite
thing to do on a night out is to just punch an absolutely random person and see their lights go out, laying on the floor.
He says he does it when he's coked out, which he insinuated he was. He just goes on and on
about the thrill he gets from knocking someone out he doesn't even know. The things he said
were probably more graphic and violent than I remember, while I think to myself,
what the fuck do I need to do to get the fuck out of here? Not sure how the conversation turned,
but he mentioned he was out on the town because he went through a breakup.
He said, are you my bro? I was like, yeah man, sure, we're buds. Got my drink and said something like, cheers
to all the fish in the sea or some shit. Got back to my friends and kept that guy in the
corner of my eye all night. Number 1.
My mom.
She told me stories about herself when I was growing up, but I always assumed they were
all talk.
You know, like she was pulling my leg.
But the stories never changed and as I got older, I realized that they stayed pretty
consistent. So I asked family members for
confirmation and they basically shrugged and said, yeah, that sounds about right.
Highlights include, my half-brother was watching a movie and mentioned that he wondered what it
felt like to stab somebody. My mom nonchalantly
said that it wasn't great. It turned out that she once stabbed a man at a party because he got on
her nerves and she had a knife in her boot. But it was only his leg, so it wasn't that bad. She robbed the guy who robbed her at gunpoint.
At gunpoint.
Seriously.
Dude showed up at her job with a pistol.
Took all the money in the register.
So she chased him to the next town over.
Found him in a pool hall.
And held him at gunpoint until he gave the money back.
She has connections to people that I'm not allowed to
know the names of, like people she considered or considers like brothers who happen to buy new cars
after hunting accidents happen. She once physically destroyed somebody for just mentioning that they thought they could take her in a fight she didn't have any animosity she said she had nothing against the
girl she just heard her talking shit and proceeded to calmly meet her out in the
parking lot before she proceeded to snap her arm and crush every bone in her
hands it took three men to pull her off the chick. She did the same thing
to a woman who tried to hit my grandmother with a rock from her flower bed. She knocked the woman
off her feet and beat her head into the brick path leading to the garden until her front teeth came out. Then sent her home and dared her to call the police. In my hometown, I've seen her
intimidate her way out of tickets. She wouldn't even say anything threatening. She'd do what they
asked, but they'd always just apologize and send her on her way. Her ex-husband, he once stole her car. She decided that it was unacceptable,
walked out to the bar he was at, hot-wired it, and decided she was sick of his shit.
He jumped in front of her while she was on her way out, expecting to stop her. She did stop,
for a second, then she gunned it. When one of my exes started stalking
me, she informed him matter-of-factly in the nicest voice I've ever heard that, if he didn't
stop, they would never find his body because it will be in pieces all over this country.
I actually witnessed her beat the ever-loving hell out of a
guy when I was a kid. He made a passive threat to her, so she went after him with all the fury of a
goddamn tornado. She willed herself out of having seizures. I found it hard to believe until my aunt backed it up.
She used to take medicine for it, but it made her sick, so she stopped.
When the doctor told her she'd just get worse without it,
she calmly informed him that she was done having seizures,
and she never had another one.
I think that's the creepiest thing I've heard about her. You know, next to the multiple stories of all of her friends who died or were murdered,
which makes it seem like she was the last one standing.
She actually told me that she'd probably be a pretty bad mother
if she didn't have a massive brain injury in her early twenties.
She has a dent in her head where her skull is thinner in places from the surgery. It's weird. Everyone has told me that she
was quieter and meaner before and seemed kind of detached from things she did. But if you talk to
her now, she's the happy, buoyant, and extremely friendly lady.
It was like a complete personality shift.
She has her moments, but she talks about her previous exploits in a way that's so chipper and surreal.
By far, one of the potentially scariest people I know.
Fascinating to talk to, a wonderful parent, and she fucking knows how to
make a daughter feel safe. But I'll be damned if she isn't terrifying once something presses the
wrong button. I mean, she almost drove two hours away to find a former co-worker because he
threatened me via text. And I, uh, don't tell her what one of my exes did
because I don't want to visit her in prison.
Fort Bragg, California is a small beach town northwest of Sacramento.
It has kind of a Stephen King feel to it, you know what I mean.
That misty, almost eerie small harbor town, but it's beautiful and has a huge tourist attraction.
You get people from all over the US that travel here. My fiance and I decided
to drive up here after I had to take some time off of work due to stress. It was a last minute
decision and we packed up our bags in less than 10 minutes, grabbed our dog and took off. If we
wouldn't have had our dog with us I'm pretty sure I would have lost her. I guess that is where I tell
the story right? It's our second day here
right now and we are staying at a motel that overlooks the ocean. You can see the fog roll
in during the early hours of the morning and watch the fishing boats leave the harbor to go
get their haul for the day. It really is a beautiful thing to see. We woke up early and I
was craving, and I mean craving, eggs and bacon.
After getting dressed and deciding what spot to stuff our faces at, we left for our morning adventure.
See, here's where I made my mistake.
I was driving down the road, and it looked like the stop we crawled up to was a four-way stop sign.
I clearly guessed wrong, because when I pulled out and cut off a small Ford Ranger with a dinky trailer
attached to it and two old men driving, I realized a little too late that I had cut them off.
They threw up their hands and pointed at me but Lily didn't even notice it. I threw my hands up
in a sorry I'm just an idiot tourist kind of way and they just stared me down. It was a hillbilly
standoff that George Strait would be proud of. I didn't think much of it and they just stared me down. It was a hillbilly standoff that George Strait would be
proud of. I didn't think much of it and kept driving down the foggy two lane road to get
breakfast. I didn't even think to say anything to her about it. I never thought I'd see them again
and I didn't want her to complain about me not knowing how to drive. I was wrong though. I was
wrong and I'll never forget what happened next. We got back to
the motel after a not so great but overly expensive breakfast. We cuddled up and talked about our
plans for the wedding, what we wanted to do after the wedding and midway through our life plans she
realized that we were out of dog food and to feed Bruce. I agreed to going up to the cute but creepy market
and grabbing a bag of goodies, kissed her on the cheek and jumped in the navi, we call her
Navigator Navi, left and got about halfway to the store before I realized that I forgot my wallet
on the nightstand. When I pulled back into the parking lot, I saw it. That same Ford Ranger with the janky trailer attached to it. The only
difference was that Hank and Boomhauer weren't inside of it. I don't remember seeing them here
last night, I thought. I walked up to our door while looking over my shoulder wondering,
what are the chances these idiots are staying here? And then, not two seconds later, my heart started beating
faster. Our motel door was open but barely cracked. It was open slightly to the point where you could
see a sliver of light but nothing more. I slowly pushed it open and looked inside but I didn't see
anything. Lily and Bruce were both gone. It was like they were never really there at all.
My heart started racing and I dropped my keys on the floor and ran outside,
heart pounding in my chest faster than a jackhammer in New York.
I didn't see the creepy old guys from the Ford truck or my fiancé outside. I was becoming angry and frantic by this point.
Where are you guys? I kept thinking over and over,
before the screaming in my head was cut off by the sound of familiar barking. I heard Bruce barking and I ran. I ran
faster than I ever have in my entire 28 years of life. I ran straight over to the front office
where the sound was coming from and that's when I saw her and our dog inside the office. She was crying, sitting on the floor
sobbing uncontrollably, and his hair was standing straight up until we saw that it was me sprinting
towards them. Lily got up and ran into my arms. Meanwhile, the clerk is on the phone, and I'm
wondering what just happened in the past two minutes I was gone. This is what happened told by her and it makes my blood
run cold. It turns out as soon as I left not 30 seconds went by and those guys knocked on the door.
Lily opened it up thinking it was me forgetting something which I did and they tried to force
their way into the room and one of them said you can thank your boy toy for what's coming to you
while grabbing her and covering her mouth.
Those idiots didn't realize one thing and that's that we had a dog in our back seat when I cut them off.
Bruce jumped off the bed and didn't hesitate to bite the one grabbing her then kicked him and tried to shake him off.
But he wouldn't let go. After being bit and realizing that the noise would draw attention
if they didn't leave, they ran off and Lily was able to run to the front office and wait for help
and Bruce followed suit. I wasn't there. I couldn't protect her. If we had found a dog sitter,
she would be gone right now, but my dog was there, and he did exactly what a good boy,
no, the best boy would do, and for that, he is truly my best friend.
If he wasn't there, what would have happened?
Would she have been kidnapped, beaten, or even worse?
The craziest thing is that they haven't been caught yet.
We filed all the reports with the local sheriff.
I told them what happened earlier that morning and the cop looked right at me and said,
you're lucky your dog was there. If he wasn't and they got in there with her,
you could have been filing a different report right now. I got tears in my eyes at that.
I looked over at Lily and Bruce and thanked God that I rescued him from the
pound because in return he rescued the love of my life when I couldn't moving from Michigan to North
Carolina was a big change for all of us.
The climate was a huge difference for us since we weren't as used to the cold,
along with having to start a new school and meeting new people.
However, there were other major differences as well.
These ones weren't as innocent.
When we came to Michigan, our parents bought a one-story house that had originally come with two bedrooms,
but with having three girls, our parents remodeled and added another room. The neighborhood was a
friendly one with lots of children our age to play around with. It seemed like we had hit the
jackpot with this home. At the time I was the youngest. When we moved I was only five. For the
first two years of living there things went great. Even with the third
bedroom my sisters and I still liked to sleep in the same bedroom as we were all very close.
Most nights we would roughhouse around and watch tv until we were yelled at by our parents to go
to bed. The night the incident happened we were doing exactly that. It was late one night and my
sisters were on the bed roughhousing. That particular night we
were watching Ghost Hunters. I hadn't gotten up to use the bathroom. I'm not sure what caused me to
look out the window but I felt like something was watching me. As I turned my head to look out,
fear froze me to my spot. It was like being in a nightmare and not being able to do anything as a
face stared back at me was enough to send ice cold shivers down my body and a knot to build up in my
throat.
I wasn't sure what to do.
Did I call for my sisters and them call me crazy?
What if the person behind the window tried breaking through?
I was completely terrified as I looked into the man's face as he stared right back at
me.
He had no expression on his face, only blank eyes that would keep me awake for nights to come.
With a sudden burst of courage, I managed to get out a meek whisper.
Guys, there's someone in the window.
Of course my first fear was correct and my older sisters didn't believe me.
They thought I was playing a joke on them as I kept an eye on the face making sure it wouldn't disappear, but at the same time wishing it would.
Finally after convincing them to just look they both got up and saw him.
My eldest sister ran for our father as my sister and I both stood there in fright, unsure of what to do.
My dad had woken up and along with our trusty black lab and wolf mix Susie, he managed to chase the man away.
Our dad called the cops but they told us since they had not tried to break in or hurt us, they couldn't do anything about it.
We started locking our doors after that.
After this incident we began to question the neighbors and they all responded the same. The family with the fence around their
property had an adult son who was mentally disabled who would go around the neighborhood
and look in the girls windows. It had even gotten so bad with one of the neighbor girls that her
father had made a bat with nails sticking out of it as a threat for what could happen if the man had tried to come back to his home.
My parents took this seriously and proceeded to put inside locks and dark curtains on our windows
so we couldn't see through. It seemed like the man had gotten the hint and we didn't have any
more encounters. That is until one night my older sister who was a younger teenager at the time
had just gotten out of the shower and was about to get dressed when she heard a noise at her window.
She decided to stay in her towel and take a glance out the window to see what the noise was
when she saw the man's face looking back at her. She screamed for my parents and immediately left
her room. My dad was immediately up with a
baseball bat and going after the man with Susie on his heels. My dad has let Susie go ahead of him
with one marching order. Get him. Being the loyal dog she was, Susie took off after the man and bit
his ankle taking him down. While this was happening my mom was on the phone with the police who were on the way. With the help from Susie, our dad had captured the man and held him
there until the cops showed up. They arrested him, but because of his disability, he was let go the
following day. My parents were furious. They couldn't understand how the police could let
someone off who had been caught multiple times trespassing into people's yards and looking into younger girls windows. They along with the other neighbors set up a
neighborhood watch. They made sure that us kids were watched 24-7 and that no harm would come to
us. Something that should be known about my father is that he is an ex-marine who developed PTSD with
one of the side effects being insomnia.
My dad had taken advantage of this during these incidences and he would keep watch of the house and constantly would check the yard for the man.
This helped to make us feel safer because we knew with our dad watching over us, we'd be safe.
It had barely been over a week since the man had looked into my sister's room when he came
again.
This time it was only my middle sister and I in our room.
It was still early evening and my parents and their friends were hanging out in the
living room.
We had an early bedtime because it was a school night so we were both in bed about to fall
asleep when we began to hear noises like someone was trying to get in. Fear immediately gripped
both my sister and I as we both knew what was most likely happening. Her being older and more brave,
she jumped out of bed and ran to tell the adults what was happening. I however was once again
frozen in fear as I could hear the man trying to force open our locked window. I could do nothing more than hide under my covers and hope that he couldn't get in.
It wasn't long before the adults were in the room looking out the window.
My mom came to comfort me, while my dad checked things out.
Since it was winter outside, my dad seized the man's footprints below our window along with handprints on our window.
His temper immediately flared as he told
my mom to call the cops again. He decided to take matters into his own hands and walked over to the
man's home. While there he told the man's parents what their son had been doing and that the cops
were already on their way. He made sure that the man was arrested and pressed charges. To this day
my sisters and I are still scared by what
happened. We refuse to have any of the windows left uncovered and lock them and always make sure
the doors are locked as well. I'm not quite sure whatever happened to him after he was arrested but
there was never again a face in our window after that.
Back in 2013 I was living with my ex at the time who lived near a nice country village
and as I was in between jobs at the time I picked up a job at a local garden center.
It was casual retail work, fairly decent pay,
and easygoing enough that I could take coffee breaks frequently and wear basically whatever
I liked as long as I wore my work polo shirt. It was walking distance from my ex's house and
full of people of all ages who were the most lovely people I'd ever met. Most of the regular
customers who came to the garden center were usually sweet old people
who would visit the cafe because we had free teas and discounted lunches for OAPs if they had a store card.
So you often got to know all of them and some of them were even given nicknames.
Most of them sweet like Pink Hair Lady, a cool 80 year old grandma who wore a tasseled leather jacket and bright pink hair.
Then there was a camper van couple who used to drive a really cool camper van with bright orange
flowers painted on it. You get the idea. With creepy artist man though, he gave most of the
young girls weird vibes. He wore a straw hat, was in his late 40s, had round gold rimmed glasses and would wear strange graphic t-shirts with women on them and have some pretty odd slogans on the back.
He always wore ripped jeans where his knees were always hanging out of them which were always dirty with paint or mud or something.
He had this weird half smile that would never leave his face and kind of a leer that made people feel uncomfortable. He would take off his glasses and clean them constantly which kind of made you feel
like he was trying to get a better look at the girls who worked there, especially the younger
ones. Anyway, it was a roasting hot summer's day and I had gratefully accepted the job of watering
the hanging baskets outside where I could avoid the humid, sweaty
heat of the greenhouses. I was wearing black shorts and my red polo and my tool belt to prune
and deadhead plants as I went. With the hose in my hand and sunnies on my face, I was busy but
enjoying the solitary job at the quietest part of the garden center. Well hello there.
Out of practically nowhere he slipped up behind
some wooden trellises and looked me up and down smiling with his weird two small teeth.
His eyes lingered on me for what felt like an uncomfortable few seconds and I turned off my
hose and asked him if he needed anything. He shook his head and kind of shrugged, still smirking at my legs.
Okay, sir. Have a nice day. Let me know if you need anything. I turn to continue.
I've never seen you here before. You're a new one.
Huh? Me? I've been here for eight months now.
Oh, I must have missed the memo that a beauty like you started. You have a nice tan. You look young. Oh, thanks. I'm 23. Anyways, I have to get back to
work. Well, nice to meet you, Cindy Butler. I suddenly remember my name badge and get slightly
irritated that he now knew my full name.
I make a beeline for the smoking area where the tool shed was with an excuse to grab some smaller gardening gloves and by the time I returned to the floor, he had left. As the weeks went by,
he would come into the store regularly, usually mid-afternoon, coincidentally, or so I thought,
around the time I started my shift. Most of the
time I was the only cashier so I would have to serve him. He would buy the most smallest,
pointless things like floristry wire or a tiny bag of birdseed. It seemed like he would purposely
make a purchase with the intention of interacting with me. He would make comments about my appearance. Statements mostly
like, you have your hair different today. Yesterday you had it down. You have new glasses. Or,
that's a different lip color to yesterday. He would always announce my name loudly and
deliberately during every interaction. I felt uncomfortable but I was 23 and just politely shrugged it off.
Around Christmas time I was decorating the artificial trees and he cornered me in the
forest of them at the back of the store. He jumped out from behind one and made me jump,
to which I was kind of angry about him doing because I dropped a glass ornament and it had
smashed. He bent down also and tried to help grabbing my wrist
and telling me not to touch the glass. His grip was scarily tight and forceful and his hands were
clammy and gross. I slipped my hand out of his grip and asked if I could help him with anything.
That's when it got weird. He pulled out a leaflet from his back pocket and told me he was an artist
and had a Christmas art show happening in the local church hall and he wanted me to go with him.
He told me that he was a painter and he thought I would like his work.
I had never indicated that I was interested in art to him or anyone else for that matter which is why I thought it was strange.
I asked him if he wanted me to pin the leaflet to the local event board and he reached out
and touched my arm and said no, the invitation is specifically for you.
He pointed his finger and jabbed it into my breast and said, you.
So I'm standing there in a dark corner obscured from view by artificial Christmas trees just
kind of cornered by this guy who was touching me.
I cringed away and said that
I was busy with my boyfriend that day and that I'm sorry and kind of scampered off. I remember
feeling really strange after that. The fact he grabbed my wrist and jabbed his finger into my
chest that way. I told a few of my colleagues about it and they all told me that they would
warn me next time he was in the store so I could maybe hang out at the storeroom until he was gone. That memo must have missed a few of the temp Christmas staff because
one day I got told by one, your friend is asking for you at the tills. It wasn't unusual for friends
to stop by as it was fairly popular for gifts and other things so thinking it was maybe my ex's mom or something, I head to the till and
there he is. He's holding a piece of paper. I cringe, but he had seen me now, so I walk over
and ask what he needed from me. He passed the paper over and asked me to open it. Folded up
was a drawing of me, with exaggerated breasts and cartoon-like eyes watering the hanging baskets in a very
strange position.
I kind of stood there and said thank you, but I couldn't keep it as I thought it was
inappropriate to take gifts from customers.
I handed it back to him and he kind of looked at me with this angry stare.
He turned around and walked out without another word.
By this point, I had had enough. I knocked on my manager's door and told him about the whole scenario that just happened
and all the previous interactions I had with him over the past year. He watched the CCTV and agreed
that it was so strange the way he gave me this gross picture and he told me he would talk to
him if he ever came back.
He praised me for my reaction to his advances and said I was doing the right thing and he would try and see him off next time. The next day was a Sunday and I was not due into work. My boss calls
me and tells me he just received a call from HQ stating that an anonymous caller had called in to
report a staff member inappropriately coming on to a
customer. The staff member they had described named was me. The caller said that I had been
inappropriate towards him at work, offered to do things with him, had led him on and obviously was
promiscuous, and that I had been pursuing him for over a year. The jerk even described a
fictitious relationship we had and ranted loudly about how I had been cheating on my boyfriend
before hanging up. HQ luckily didn't believe a word as my manager had already mentioned the guy
to one of his higher ups but they thought it was wise to let me know about this crazy guy and suggest I report it to the police.
The next day I did just that.
The officer I spoke to said that he matched the description of a man who was a local pest,
somebody who often harasses young girls in the local area.
He was also known to stalk girls in his car and had attempted to abduct a young girl four years ago.
The police officers assured me that they would file the report and talk to him officially
and that he was not allowed in the garden center or anywhere near me again
and if he did, I was to call the police and he would be arrested.
Unfortunately though, it never stopped him sending a ranting letter to my workplace address to me
saying he would end himself if I didn't
take him back and received his gift he drew of me. Fortunately the police saw this as an
unsolicited contact and he was thankfully arrested. At the time of this story, it was the summer after junior year and a couple of my buddies and I were at someone's house doing the usual things teenage guys do.
After a couple of hours of Xbox and basketball, one of our friends, Sam, rolled up with a trunk full of fireworks and we decided it would be fun to go set them off in an empty field a mile away from the house.
As we all piled into Sam's car and started driving out of the neighborhood, a man stepped
into the road and blocked our way.
He was huge and covered in tattoos, probably 6'3 or so with long dark hair pulled back
into a ratty ponytail.
Sam honked the horn as the man stood in front of our car yelling obscenities at
us. Finally my friend had had enough and whipped the car around him while flipping the guy the bird,
speeding out of the neighborhood and towards the main road. A couple of minutes later we got to
the field and set up the fireworks. As we all hid around the edges of the grass, Sam stepped forward
and lit the firework up.
Seconds later the firework ignited and exploded, much louder than any of us had expected.
I panicked and ran back to Sam's car with him, and I slammed on the gas and flew out of the parking lot onto the main road.
As we neared the entrance to my friend's neighborhood, it dawned on Sam that he had left the rest of the guys back at the field.
So he stopped the car and made me get out so he could go retrieve the other guys.
I didn't understand why I couldn't go with him, but it didn't matter. It was a nice summer night
and I sat down on the sidewalk near the entrance of the neighborhood and pulled out my phone.
After a couple of minutes of phone games, it died in my hands. Crap.
I sat back and enjoyed the weather, waiting for the headlights to come back down the road when I heard a slight noise behind me.
I turned my head, expecting to see a bird or wind-blown branches or something, but the streetlight outlined the figure of the man from earlier.
He had crept up behind me while I was sitting there. He locked eyes with me and I was immediately struck by the wild look in them, like he was both looking at me and looking through
me at the same time. I got up and backed away slowly then turned and started walking away from
him. He kept pace behind me and began to yell at me. Hey you, get back here! I increased my pace and he continued to match it,
screaming at me the entire time. Eventually I was full out sprinting away from him and I heard him
slow down. I tore down the sidewalk back to the parking lot of the field and reunited with my
friends before relaying the story to them. As we drove back, we searched the area for him,
but he was nowhere to be found.
I have no idea what this weirdo wanted,
and we never called the police to really get them involved,
and we never saw him again,
but it dawned on me that if my phone hadn't died,
I probably wouldn't have noticed the footsteps of the man,
and probably wouldn't have had such a fortunate outcome.
I was around 7 years old and very close to my uncle and aunt that lived a few towns over.
We had a house phone and I was allowed to make calls to people that were on the address book.
I would call
them once a week just to know how they were and ask silly questions like how was your day, how
are your dogs and when are you coming to visit. One day I accidentally pressed a wrong number while
dialing and called someone else. A lady answered the phone and I started talking as if though I
was talking to my aunt. I guess as a kid I didn't find much difference in the other woman's voice. I asked her how she was and she said she was okay but
asked what my name was because apparently my number appeared as unknown. I told her,
Tia this is Samantha I'm using mom's phone. Her voice changed and she started talking to me like
she knew me. Asked me questions about school which I found odd because she knew I was homeschooled which
I corrected her and reminded her of how I was homeschooled.
This went for around three days.
Around the same time a day she would call.
I would run to the phone and answer.
We would talk for around half an hour.
My mom would only allow me to make calls for less than 10 minutes to out of town because they were expensive.
So I told my aunt to call back when she wanted to talk because we couldn't pay the calls.
We got close, talking about her day, how she was a teacher.
I told her about stuff I liked and I never felt so close to her.
Then one day she asked me for my address. She said she had forgotten
where I lived and wanted to take a visit and that was a big red flag for me as my uncle and aunt knew
exactly where I lived. I got a bit scared and hung up. I started overthinking about weird stuff that
she had said to me like if I had a boyfriend and what were my favorite places to visit. Questions my aunt would never ask.
Next time she called I told her I knew she wasn't my Tia
and that we couldn't keep talking anymore
which she responded by saying
you're too friendly.
It's sad we can't be friends anymore but
I know where to find you.
We will see each other soon.
And hung up.
I got scared. I went looking for my mom and told her I had called the wrong number that I hoped she didn't ground me. She checked the number
and the caller ID and then the address book. The phone number was different from my aunt's from
only one number. It was a private phone so it didn't appear on the big regional phone book. She called back but no one picked up.
I never told my mom what happened, just that I called the wrong number once, which was true.
But I never gave her the full story. I was at the gym, jogging on a treadmill.
As always, I had my phone propped up against the dashboard and was watching an episode of a new show that had been quite popular recently.
I got noise cancelling headphones on and am focusing on the show, so I don't notice the woman who gets onto the machine next to me.
I don't know how long the woman was trying to get my attention but suddenly I feel my headphones
pulled from my ears. I almost fall off my treadmill and look around to see the woman next to me,
bright red and angry. I was calling you! She hissed at me. So I slow down my machine,
my heart still racing and I ask what she needed,
trying to be as polite as I can and ignoring her initial rudeness. I feel pretty embarrassed that
I hadn't realized she was calling me. She huffs and then points at my phone saying,
turn that off, it's distracting. I try to calm the situation by telling her that I will turn the phone's brightness down but she insists I turn it off.
I ask her why and she responds with,
I haven't seen that episode, you're spoiling it for me.
And she tries to lunge forward to grab my phone.
I quickly put my arm out between her and my phone.
The motion startles her and causes her to stumble and fall off her
own machine. She screams that I pushed her off, but everyone had witnessed her harassing me when
she realizes that no one is paying attention, she got up, grabbed her things, and walked out.
I wish I could give a more satisfying ending, but I'm not one for confrontation.
This happened when I was about 12 or 13, female.
I wasn't developed by any means.
You could tell that I looked like a child.
It was my younger brother's birthday and as we waited for our table at a restaurant,
we decided to go to Barnes and Noble's across the street.
My siblings, parents and I were walking around the tables with new release books.
I had went to the bathroom by myself before going to the tables which is very important to note.
We were chilling at the tables making jokes and what not for about 5 minutes.
That's when I noticed a man probably in his late 20s in a red shirt.
He was on the opposite side of the table, phone in his hand near his chest and he was looking down at the books. I'd be jumping to random tables looking through books with my mom and siblings
there. I started noticing that he'd have his phone angled so he could take pictures of me without
having to use the actual buttons.
That along with him following me from table to table creeped me out. I looked around and saw no one else notice that he was doing that. In the moment I kept thinking about how he could
literally kidnap me because of how much smaller and weaker I was compared to him. I thought about
how lucky I was to have gone to the bathroom before seeing this nasty man at
the tables. Once I noticed he was doing that I started moving closer to my mom and staying across
from or right next to her. I was so creeped out by this man who was taking pictures of an underage
girl. I didn't want to tell my mom or anyone really because I didn't want to ruin my brother's
birthday dinner by making everyone paranoid or simply not want to be there anymore. After staying in the bookstore for about 30
minutes, my mom and older sister were saying it was time to go. As far as the bookstore goes,
the genre book sections were tall bookcases, so as we were walking out I started looking to either
side of me to see if the guy was still there. Guess what? He was keeping pace on the other side of the bookcase aisles with his phone pointed at
me straight up blatantly taking pictures of me. I started speed walking practically jogging because
I was so freaked out. On the real my heart was beating so fast and my hands were sweating buckets.
He followed us out to the parking lot and when I turned back to see where he went, he was gone.
My family to this day doesn't know that this incident occurred.
This happened about five years ago. I am a female and at the time I was 21.
I was visiting my old hometown and me and some old school friends decided to go to a local club.
For some reason, I can't remember why, I left earlier than others and decided to walk home
since it was only a couple of kilometers and taxis are expensive. It was winter
and very quiet, no one to be seen anywhere. I walked very fast because it was cold and I wanted
to get home quickly. Then I saw a man walking in an opposite direction but at first thought nothing
of it and assumed he was just some person going home from a bar or party like me. He greeted me
but I didn't know him and just kept on walking
without answering. To my horror he turned around and started following me and I dialed the emergency
number to my phone and put it in the pocket so I could make a secret call if he did anything sketchy.
He ran up at me and started asking me questions like why I was walking alone, what my name was, did I live here, etc.
I didn't really answer to anything and told him I didn't need company. He was starting to really
creep me out and then he told me he was going to walk me home so that nobody does anything to me.
I wanted to scream at him that you are the only person here who can do anything.
I don't know if he actually had some
superhero complex and really just wanted to save damsels in distress, but I wasn't in distress
until he came along and he was drunk and, if you don't mind me saying, he looked a bit crazy.
Then he proceeded to grab my hand like we were some romantically involved couple.
I didn't dare to resist and my home was very close
so I didn't want to anger him. When I saw my house I told him I was fine now and he could let me go.
He asked if I was home alone and I told him that my sister and her boyfriend were there.
That seemed to put him off and he hugged me, told me goodbye and left. I almost ran inside.
I never saw him again but later a friend of mine who lived close to my home told me goodbye and left. I almost ran inside. I never saw him again but later a friend of mine
who lived close to my home told me of a similar experience. Maybe a year after that my mom told
me that she had been walking home late at night and some creep had followed her too, saying the
exact same things about making sure nothing happens as he said to me. This guy definitely had some type of superhero complex.
My cat has been missing for two weeks now. I raised him by hand. He's a little mama's boy and
he never leaves my side for more than an hour.
So when I noticed he didn't come to bed that first night I immediately knew something was wrong.
For what I'm about to tell you to make sense you need to understand that I love this cat
so so much. I have a tattoo of him on my chest next to my heart. He saved my life when I was
in a bad mental place and I would do anything to find him. So keep
that in mind as you read this. When I realized he was missing I posted his photo on every missing
animals page I could find. I printed flyers, I went to the SPCA and every vet in my town to look
for him. I didn't find him. Last night someone told me that it was mating season for cats now.
I live on the bottom side of the planet so it's springtime now and it's sweltering.
And that intact males will often chase neutered males, like my kimchi, off their territory.
They suggested I go door to door in my neighborhood and ask people if I can look under their sheds and in their crawl spaces
as cats who are attacked tend to go into hiding.
I rose bright and early this morning and set out on my cat hunt. I dragged my very patient
boyfriend, Benjamin, along to protect me from any creeps. I printed out another batch of flyers to
take with in case I had to prove the legitimacy of my operation. Very few people actually let us
onto their property. There were a few kind old
ladies who took some flyers that they offered to distribute at Bible study. One lady even offered
us an ice-cold glass of water, but most neighbors just squinted cautiously at our sweaty hands and
foreheads as we tried desperately to persuade them of our innocence. At least take a flyer. Sir, please. By noon we still haven't seen
any trace of him. We sat down on a sidewalk under a tree. It was like the sun was screaming at us
along with the cicadas. I looked down at my legs and saw little beads of sweat trickle through the
red dust that had by now collected in a thick layer on my calves. Kiddo, hey girly, what you sitting there looking so droopy
for? A middle-aged man sporting a mullet, beer belly, and some croc sandals was waving at me
from his open garage. His house looked like it was probably very snazzy back in the 70s,
but then again, this whole neighborhood looks kind of like that. He seemed nice, though, even though he wasn't wearing a shirt.
I explained my situation.
Lost cat. I see, I see.
I'll look up at my roof again.
Them kits like to crawl up there and make a ruckus.
He studied the flyer carefully,
taking out a pair of reading glasses from the back pocket of his jean shorts.
I've seen this cat of yours.
He's a darling. I've seen the others around here beat him up bad though, screaming and hollering,
chasing him into the yard across from here. I looked where he pointed. I would have never
noticed if he hadn't pointed it out. You couldn't really see the house for all the shrubbery. In front it all was a whitewashed wall with a rusted gate.
It was clear someone tried to burglar-proof the gate with some planks at some time.
It was now hanging by its last hinge.
I thanked the nice mullet man for the intel and watched him enter his home,
closing his door and blinds behind him.
My boyfriend and I approached the house across the street.
The sidewalk was burst open from years in neglect,
giving way to a forest of prickly weeds.
I looked for a doorbell or a mailbox, but there was none.
I peeked beyond the rusty gate.
The yard was barren except for the tall weeds.
Everywhere there were piles of rubble, bricks, and planks,
perhaps a renovation project
that was never completed. The wooden part of the front door was nailed and bolted, but
the glass panels were mostly all missing. A scared cat could slip in there easily.
I stepped into the yard. To my left I saw an old metal shed, rusted completely. The top was covered by green plastic shade netting. A makeshift door
made of plywood stood open, revealing the inside of the shed. The netting above made the inside
glow dark green. Uh, babe, this is trespassing, Benjamin called hesitantly, still standing in
the street. Maybe we should just leave a flyer. I ignored him. This place
is clearly abandoned. Trespassing is the least of the crimes I would commit to find my cat.
Movement from inside the shed caught my eye.
Kimchi? Here kitty kitty. Here boy. I called. The creature scurried away. It was a rat. A few more darted into the shadows.
Oh god! I exclaimed, suddenly feeling itchy all over. I hope he hasn't eaten any of those rats.
I'm not going any closer to the shed. I called his name a few more times, but to no avail.
I tried looking into the house, but newspaper and black bags covered the windows.
I would have to find a way around.
I finally persuaded my boyfriend to join me in my crime to,
be honest, I was getting pretty freaked out and I needed to hold his hand.
We walked around the rights of the house, waving mosquitoes, flies, and gnats out of the way.
When we got to the back of the house, the smell of feces hit me like a frying pan in the face. I couldn't see the source of the smell though. What I did see were piles and piles
of junk. Old furniture, rubble, boxes, black bags, everywhere. In the middle was an empty swimming
pool. The sides were cracked with grass and weeds growing out and at the bottom was a puddle of horrible brown sludge,
almost obscured completely by gnats and flies. I called desperately to my cat. I had hoped he
would be hiding here, but the more I see of this place, the more I hope he isn't here.
The smell of feces was so strong. I walked further into the property, calling out to him.
I came round a corner.
In front of me I could see the windows,
but these ones weren't boarded up, and they were open.
But as I came closer I realized that if he was indeed in the house,
I wouldn't be able to get to him.
The inside of the house was shacked almost to the ceiling
full of the same kind of junk that was all over the backyard.
This was the type of thing I thought I'd only ever see on TLC.
I could see more rats running around inside.
Then the smell hit us again.
Jesus, this is an absolute dump, I said to Benjamin, covering my mouth.
That's when I turned around and saw him.
An old man, sitting on a plastic lawn chair in the shadow of the house.
Oh! Oh my god, I'm so sorry, sir. I... sir, I... I was just looking for my cat. We'll leave right
now, I exclaimed, panicking and incredibly embarrassed. He had scared the crap out of me.
He said nothing. He only studied us with his eyes. He was old but not ancient,
and skinny, the sickly kind of skinny with gaunt cheeks and deep eye sockets.
He was wearing a neat outfit, polo shirt tucked into some pressed pants, but despite this,
I had a suspicion that he had been wearing the same pair of clothes for a very long time
as it was covered in stains. I approached him cautiously with a flyer. Have you seen my cat? He stared at it for
at least five seconds, then slowly stretched out an arm and took the paper from me, studying it
further. I stood there awkwardly waiting for a reply but he said nothing. Instead he lowered his head,
pressing the page onto his forehead as if to wipe the sweat from his brow but he kept it there,
crumpled it up against his face and then he started to growl like a dog. He was growling at me.
I didn't know what to do so I just started apologizing profusely for disturbing him. For some reason
I tried to take the offending flyer back from him as if I was afraid he might harm the image of my
cat. I wanted to rip it out of his hands. I was so freaked out and scared at this point I don't
really remember why I wanted to do that or how close I was to this man but Benjamin grabbed me
by the arm and half running pulled me to the front of the
house, then ushered me into the street. When we were safely under the tree on the mullet man's
side of the street, he swung me around and looked deep into my eyes as if checking I still had all
my marbles. We walked home in silence. I hope my cat comes home or someone finds him and calls.
Before this afternoon, I was afraid that my cat was
hit by a car or something. Now I'm afraid that he might be hiding in that house with that man
and feces and the rats. I'm freaking out even more now when I was 19 years old and working at a phone store.
I was closing up for the night alone when a man walked in before I could lock up.
He then turned around, locked the door himself and switched the sign to closed.
I knew right then and there that I was being robbed.
He looks at me with a hand in his
jacket and says, I want a phone and I don't want to pay. I give this dude the biggest grin and say,
whatever you want boss and I immediately walked to get him the newest iPhone because he came off
as an iPhone guy to me. Though I do remember being really annoyed that he dragged in a bunch of mud
and water throughout the store.
The dude was soaking wet because it was raining off and on all day.
I was livid that I'd have to mop the floors again.
You think of strange things in these situations.
He then starts talking about how he has a gun, which was unneeded, I got the hint already,
and also starts talking about how he wants the phone hooked up
with service. I found this to be extremely odd request coming from the guy robbing me.
I mean you think he'd just tell me to give him all the money and phones in the store but
then I realize why he made this request. He starts screaming at the alarm on the wall and I mean
screaming. I realize immediately that this man was on something and I might just die in
the store tonight. I get this man an account, hook everything up, I just wanted to give him what he
wanted and get him out of my store. As I'm doing this he's walking around curiously and grabs a
ball, crumples a paper over it, unlocks the door and buries it. He then comes back inside and says, don't worry, it'll grow into
something much better. I could see all of it because the entire front of the store was glass.
I just gave him a weak chuckle and went with it and then someone else pulls up to the store.
It was my mom. She was picking me up because that very morning I had gotten into an accident and totaled my car
so she was going to drive me back to my place until I got my rental.
After a little bit she called the police because she knew something was wrong and
correctly assumed I was being robbed. By the way this whole process took forever.
My life was on the line and I can't hook up phones any faster than I'd like to
so please stop yelling at me that I'm being slow, I can't do anything about it.
Finally I got his phone hooked up.
He walked out the store and let his dog out of the car and started driving crazy around
the parking lot until the cops showed up and I even bought a lottery ticket on the way
home that day. I was convinced that I used all my bad luck for the year and one day. them to my subreddit, our Let's Read official, and give and receive feedback from the community,
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