The Lets Read Podcast - 29: Episode 028 | Haunted Classroom & Valentines Day Stories | 23 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: March 26, 2019

Welcome to the twenty-eighth 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 Crazy Roommates, Haunted Classrooms & Valentine's Day. 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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If you have questions or concerns about gambling or someone close to you, please contact Connex Ontario at 1-866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with iGaming Ontario. My name is Lindsay, and at the time this whole debacle unfolded, I was a graduate student at a prominent national university. The story I'm about to relay to you happened over the course of a couple of months in 2005 and become a very transformative occurrence in my life. After five plus years of sharing apartments and houses with all sorts of folk, be it students or professionals, male and female, I found myself with a huge apartment, but no one to share it with.

I'm not sure how this happened. It seemed to have simply ended up that way. I hurriedly made posts on Craigslist, the local papers classified section, and any other online place I could. Then I printed up some flyers and pinned those up everywhere, be it the board at school, the one at the laundromat, or the community board at Barnes and Nobles, I did my level best to paper the city with flyers. The way I figured it, I would need two more people to make the rent and live comfortably

in the present apartment. That left us with a room to make whatever we wanted of it. Library, group meeting room, whatever we could all agree to. Although my name was the one on the lease, I tried to be fair with my other roommates. I didn't want to come across as a tyrant to others. I'd lived in situations like that in the past and it made the living conditions uncomfortable and I got out of them as fast as I could. Thankfully, it wasn't long before I got my first call. The guy calling's name was Franklin, or Frank for short, and he had a pleasant voice and seemed truly interested in seeing the place, so we agreed to meet at the complex's community room the next morning.

My reason for doing this was twofold. To ensure my safety in case he ended up being a wacko. He wouldn't know the exact apartment and would be less likely to assault me in a public place. I'm pleased to say that these precautions turned out to be unnecessary at this time. After completing college out west, he decided to move here because of the area's large number of publishing houses. Taking up writing in high school, his dream became to be the next F. Scott Fitzgerald. He'd always loved the free bohemian lifestyle that Scott, Zelda and their friends got to live after they had become published authors. Fortunately for him, he was financially well off because of a check he received yearly

from his grandfather's estate. After a few minutes of talking, I felt fairly confident this guy wasn't here to victimize me. The next step was to show him the place and see if he was still interested. I took him on a walk through the apartment and then we sat down to discuss money, my least favorite part of the whole thing. When I told him what his part would be he didn't even flinch. I followed up by assuring him the amount would be less once we found another roommate and he seemed to still be unconcerned. He went as far as to tell me that he would happily pay the rent of two if this would make things easier for me. That seemed more than a kind offer but

I let him know that all the roommates would only be expected to pay their part and any extra would be absorbed by me. He said that was fine with him and after going over things for another half hour he told me he was still interested and handed over his deposit and first month's rent. It had all gone so smoothly I was shocked. We shook hands and made plans for the day and time he could move in and that was it. I could only hope the second roommate was as easy to please. Not everyone was independently wealthy and so easy going. Of course, I went through the motions of calling his references. Those on the other side of the phone all gave him glowing recommendations. So glowing they made him sound like Mr. Rogers. I couldn't be more pleased. They had made me even

more confident in my choice. When the day came, he arrived at the door with only two duffel bags and a laptop. I asked when he would be bringing the rest of his things, but he said that was it. My only thought was, man, he's really taking this bohemian lifestyle thing to heart. Since there were still no other roommates, I told him he was free to choose any of the three remaining rooms. He pondered his choice for a moment and took the one across from mine. I thought nothing of this at the time. It was the second biggest after all and truthfully it's the one I would have chosen most likely. Life with my new roommate was far easier than I'd experienced in the past. Each trip to the market he insisted on paying for

everything. Despite my half-hearted attempts to refuse, he wouldn't take no for an answer. His reasoning was that we deserved to eat well because we both worked so hard. Besides, since it was just the two of us, it wasn't that much anyways. This sentence gave me pause. He made it sound like we were a couple. I thought for a moment, had I given him a reason to think this? Had I flirted or said something in passing? Nothing came to mind. I must have just misunderstood his meaning. He'd never attempted to get physical with me and surely he had to know that I was into girls. I quickly put it out of my mind and went on with my day.

I never really understood how men thought anyways. About a month in we decided to have a small get to know people housewarming party for him. I invited a few friends from work and people I knew from the complex. It wasn't a massive undertaking. Only about 15 people were invited and out of that only 8 showed up. Frank made sure we brought plenty of alcohol and food. The night turned out to be a roaring success and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Frank ordained himself the official bartender and wowed me with his extensive knowledge of mixed drinks. The show started to wind down at about 1am and we spent the next hour cleaning up empties and other assorted party refuse. When we were done, I fired up the dishwasher and sat down on the couch to rest. Soon after, Frank joined me on the couch.

I could tell he was still pretty out of it. We sat and discussed how well the party had went and he mentioned how cool all the people he met were. I'm not sure what I was about to say, but before I could, Frank leaned over and kissed me on the lips. Since it wasn't something I expected, I was understandably very shocked. I wasn't really sure what I should say to him. He just sat there, staring at me with a crooked smile. I realized this was something I would have to nip in the bud before it went any further.

Despite drinking, he likely did have some sort of feelings for me and considering we had to live together, it had to be addressed right now. My goal was to make it clear that I liked him as a friend, but we could never have more than a friendship because I wasn't into men. Me turning down his advances was nothing personal. He was a good guy, good looking, but I just wasn't attracted to men. Me turning down his advances was nothing personal. He was a good guy, good looking but I just wasn't attracted to men. I said I was sorry if he was embarrassed. I didn't mean to hurt his feelings. He said and did nothing except look down and say, yeah sure. After he did that he tromped off to his room like an angry little kid. I was still buzzing myself a bit and very tired so I decided to call it a night. Hopefully, Frank would pout in his room for a while and then pass out. Then we'd be able to talk about the whole thing in the morning when we both had clearer heads.

I couldn't have been sleeping very long. For some reason, I woke up choking and was unable to breathe. I first thought that I was choking on my vomit, but I knew that was unlikely. I hadn't had that much to drink. Once I opened my eyes, I realized Frank was sitting on top of me trying to choke me. Because of my nightlight next to my bed, I could see his face. There was no expression whatsoever. No anger.

No sadness. Nothing. If by instinct my body began to fight to get free but regardless of my kicking and slapping he continued to choke me. Right as I began to lose hope I remembered a thing my father told me as a girl. You go for a man's eyes. Like poke them out or something like that. Nobody's going to be able to hold onto you. He's going to grab for his eye, it's just human nature.

You can cut some SOB's eye out with those claws you got. I realized I had nothing to lose so I did it. I reached for his right eye socket and jammed my thumb into it. It didn't take long before I felt the eyeball pop out and sure enough, he grabbed for it and that was my chance. He stood up next to the bed screaming with his right hand over the socket holding it as blood poured down his face. I couldn't help but cough over and over but I knew the eye thing wasn't going to keep his attention forever. So I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and ran into my bathroom. Slamming and locking the door, I dialed 911 and hit enter. He began beating on the door

and attempting to get in almost before I could lock the knob. I guess he heard me yelling at the 911 operator because the beating and screaming quickly stopped. The operator kept me on with her until the cops arrived. I'm glad she did because it helped me keep my mind off my agonizing throat. The officers had me relay a description of Frank to them. They had a couple of more units searching the neighborhood for him. I assured them he would be hard to miss. Odds were against them that they'd encounter another guy with his right eye hanging out. It wasn't long before I heard the call on their

radios saying Frank had been found. The car carrying him brought him back to the complex for me to give them a visual confirmation and of course, they had the right guy. Frank wouldn't look at me. He was looking down, still holding his hand over the dangling eyeball. Once I'd confirmed, they took him away to the hospital and I would soon follow in the back of an ambulance. Fortunately, they weren't able to save the eye. I've done too much damage to it. Not only had I pulled it out, my long nails had managed to slice it up. He hadn't been able to do a whole lot to me. My eyes looked like the whites were full of blood, which I guess they were. In addition to the bloodshot eyes, it was hard to talk for a while and my neck had hand-shaped bruises on it.

My voice sounded like some old woman that had smoked camel straights for a thousand years. But overall, I got out relatively okay physically in the long run, but mentally, things weren't so peachy. My path down the road to peace had been a long one and I don't see things ever going back to the way they used to be. When it comes to the case, Frank took a plea and, in all likelihood, won't be out until he's 50. His lawyer assured him he would certainly get a much harsher sentence from a jury considering his prior record and reputation. And yeah, about that. His whole nice guy aspiring writer and love by all things was a giant fraud. Back where he's from, he was in equal parts feared and hated. He'd been in and out of trouble with the law since he was 12.

The only reason he had received such glowing references from everyone was he had threatened them and their families. They had been more than happy to get him out their city and away from them. Basically, he was the town bully. The craziest thing out of this super crazy story was that he did receive yearly checks from his grandfather's estate. The old man had invented paperclips or something crazy like that. The whole family was drowning in money. The problem why he turned into such a psychopath, he grew up thinking he owned everyone in the small town he lived in. As for me, it took almost being killed to realize I didn't need to live with a group of strangers to meet people. I finally got rid of that big apartment and moved into a cozy one bedroom.

If I felt the need to socialize, my neighbors were happy to visit with me a while and talk. One of my neighbors turned out to be a wonderful guy, and we actually got married five years ago and are more than happy sharing a modest three bedroom house with our son. When it comes to the long term effects of the attack, my voice is a tad gruffer than it used to be and therapy is still a big part of my life. However, I try not to let those things get me down. It could have all ended that night with Frank's hands wrapped around my throat. Since this is a recent story, the pain stemming from it is still very strong. After reading this, you'll understand why.

Being a poor person without insurance, my boyfriend and I, of course, are unable to afford counseling. Besides, I doubt he would be willing to do it anyway. Despite the fact that his constant facade of strength often gets on my nerves, at this point I realize one of us has to be the strong one in the relationship and that is certainly not me. Following a discussion with my sister I decided committing this story to paper may serve as some form of therapy. Before I get to the heart of my story I must tell you how we got

there. My boyfriend Mike and I had only recently moved to Arkansas because of a transfer he'd received at work. This transfer also came with a raise and promotion. It came at a perfect time considering I had also just discovered I was pregnant. I got a part-time job at a bookstore so we could have a little extra pocket money. It also gave me an excuse to get out of the house once in a while. Having no friends, I'd go crazy sitting at home all day while Mike was at work. When it came time to quit because of the impending birth, they assured me if I wanted to come back in the future, there would be a job for me. I thanked them but I had no intention of working another

job until our son started school, at least maybe longer. The big day came and after 10 hours of sheer exhausting pain our beautiful boy was born. By the time Mike Jr. and I got to go home, Big Mike had to go back to work. Since he was a supervisor he was free to make his hours and take off for the days as long as he was no longer needed. He would often come home for lunch and take an hour off to spend time with his newborn son and help me out if I needed it. Life in our home was darn near idealistic for near on a year. That was until the company laid Mike off. Although he was receiving unemployment, it came nowhere near

to making up for what we had lost. For a moment, I considered returning to the bookstore, but since Mike and I had always disagreed with childcare, we decided against it. The following weeks were a trying time until we realized a sure steady source of income was looking us right in the eye. We remembered we had a guest house. This wasn't exactly your stereotypical guest house full of lavish furnishings and the like. It was actually a converted pool house slash shed that the landlords had converted for their teenage son to live in. Not a palace by far, but nice enough for a single young person. We'd been using it for a storage place for old baby things and we'd find another place for that stuff if it meant we could create another source of income

and that's just what we did. We sat down to brainstorm what the wording of the ad would be and after three hours of back and forth, this is what we came up with. Young, friendly couple with newborn son looking for a single female under 30 to rent guest house, $300 a month, may need to babysit on occasion, call with our number 7am to 9pm. Mike wasted no time in posting it. It was put in the usual places like our local newspaper and Craigslist. Once it was up, we had to do the hard part and wait. Fortunately for us, it didn't take long.

The first few calls came from stupid little boys pretending to be girls. I guess because they thought it was funny, but the next morning was when Charlie called. Charlie was a 23-year-old girl from Fayetteville that worked at Golden Corral. Lucky for her, the location she worked at was only about a 15 minute drive from our place. So far so good. She went on to say she had been single for almost a year and had no intention of changing that anytime soon. Her father was a preacher in Fayetteville and her mother had been a nurse before she passed away from breast cancer 10 years ago. From what I could tell on the phone, she seemed to be a quiet and down-to-earth girl.

After speaking to Mike, we decided to invite her to see the place. She showed up the next afternoon after her lunch shift at work. We all sat at the dining room table and discussed exactly what we expected of her and she seemed pleased with everything. After we showed her around the guest house, we left her alone for a moment to make up her mind. Just a minute later, she returned to tell us she wanted to rent the place and we all shook hands to seal the deal. In order to ensure her spot, she gave us $150 for a deposit. When we all found a day we were all free, we set the Friday up for her to move her stuff in. We took her into the nursery and introduced her to Mike Jr. They took to each other right off. All things looked to be on their way up and I was able to

relax a bit for the first time in quite some time. Friday afternoon came and Charlie arrived at two. Mike and I helped her move her few pieces of furniture into the guest house and we were done by four. To celebrate I cooked a big dinner of spaghetti and garlic bread. We all ate well and Mike and I decided to call it an early night and turned in around 9pm. The next few weeks carried on as normal and Charlie would join us sporadically for dinner. She even offered to babysit for us one evening so we could go see a movie together. From all appearances, she was a model renter and we all got along well. About a month and a half after moving in,

I asked Charlie if she was free to babysit that evening so Mike and I could visit a family member that was in the hospital in Fayetteville. She said she was more than happy to do it, so we left that day around 5pm.m. We took our time visiting our loved one and decided to stop off and get some takeout. While we were at the restaurant we picked up some food for Charlie also as a way to say thanks. When Mike pulled into the driveway we noticed that Charlie's Subaru was gone. This struck me as strange since it was there when we left and she was supposed to be home watching Mike Jr.

With some bit of trepidation I entered the house and soon realized one of my darkest fears. After a 30 minute frantic search we were forced to finally acknowledge the truth. Charlie had kidnapped our son. I must have called her phone 30 times but never got an answer Mike did most of the talking to the police Every time I started to say anything I'd lose control of myself and yell please find my baby and break down crying He gave the authorities every bit of information we had on Charlie But unfortunately most of it was a lie

It wasn't until the next morning the police discovered Charlie's real identity. Apparently her real name was Rose, and she had only been in Fayetteville for a few months. She had moved there from Missouri where she was living with her boyfriend and their newborn son. The whole situation gave me the chills because of its similarity to Mike's and my life. Sadly for her, their son died soon after coming home from unknown causes, but the medical examiner thought it was most likely SIDS, or sudden infant death syndrome. I had a brief pang of sympathy for her, but my anger quickly drowned it out. The police had brought in the FBI soon after they discovered the true identity of Charlie.

The prevailing theory was that she would either return to Missouri or head to Kansas where her mother was currently living. More than likely, she would head to Kansas. Her mother had a history of helping her daughter out of jams with the law and the feds hoped they could convince her to give Charlie up if she contacted her. There had been a couple of reported sightings of her and little Mikey, but they had been in two different directions. A week into the search I was beginning to lose hope and as a result my grasp on my own sanity was slipping. Many times a day I found myself begging God to bring my baby home. very religious person but you put in circumstances like this you learn how easy it is to become connected to him and how much belief has to do with comforting oneself in trying times.

Thankfully that following week the feds called us and said that Charlie had contacted her mother and she was making her way to her. Charlie told her that she had been moving very slowly, staying in various places for days at a time and driving only at night. When her mother asked her if Mike Jr. was okay, Charlie assured her that he was fine and she would never harm him. When the cops told us this part particularly, I felt relieved. A small part of me was afraid she had done something terrible to Mike Jr. out of spite, spite against all of us women with healthy, living children. In order to gain her trust, Charlie's mother had told her to stay away from her house. The police were watching her place. Instead, she had rented a motel room for her on the outskirts of town, and when she was able to get away, she'd come see her. Charlie bought the

story and once she had checked into the motel, the cops waited for their opportunity to strike. Later that night, they saw their chance and took it. Around 11pm, she stepped away from the room to get some ice. Mike Jr. was alone in the room, so they had no fear of harming him during the arrest. When returning from the ice machine, the cops approached her from all directions and arrested her with no problem. The moment the FBI had called us and told us their plan, the local detective volunteered to drive us up to Kansas so we could be there when Mike Jr. was saved. We had been waiting at another motel just a few miles away waiting to get the okay to pick him up and at 11.15 that night we were finally reunited with our beautiful baby boy.

The paramedics were on the scene to check him for any injuries and as we'd hoped, he was fine. I could see Charlie sitting in the back of a cop car. The urge to scream at her and ask her why almost overwhelmed me, but in the end, I guess we already knew why. Once the trial finally began nearly a year later, the true extent of Charlie's, or Rose's, whatever you want to call her, plan was brought to light. She claimed that she had no intention of kidnapping anyone's child when she came to Arkansas. Her only desire was to start her life over and move on from her son's death, but when she saw the ad, the idea of taking Mike Jr. started to form. When she saw him she fell in love and that was it. Of course she said she felt bad about doing it to us because we had become like her friends but her love for Mike Jr. and her grief over her

own loss overruled her mind. Despite her multiple attempts to get the jury's sympathy, she was found guilty. In order to ensure she would receive the harshest sentence, the local DA chose to let the feds try her and as a result of this, she was given 20 years. You better believe that Mike and I will be at every one of her parole hearings to make sure she serves every day of that 20 years. Well, that brings us back to the present. I'm sorry if at the beginning of this I may have given you the impression that my child had passed. That was not my intent. While I recognize that losing a child permanently is a far worse thing, I hope at least a few of you out there can understand the constant fear that I live with every day and if it's something you can carry with you too long you can become unhinged. While I may not be the

happy-go-lucky girl I once was, sharing my story with all of you has lifted a small weight from my heart. My greatest hope is that Mike Jr. was far too young to be harmed by this painful episode and he can grow up to be a well-rounded and happy man. Mike and I have done our best to carry on as before, dealing with our pain and fears the only way we know how. If not for the good of ourselves, certainly for the good of our son. The story I'm about to tell is not as scary as it is sad, but don't be fooled. There were many moments during this time that I was scared out of my mind. Although I'm here to put some fear into readers, it's also a great opportunity to educate everyone on the dangers related to a common m'lady.

So, turn out the lights and get comfortable. Here comes my scary tale of the nicest, but creepiest roommate I've ever had. Upon graduating high school, my parents hit me with the ultimatum, you're a man now, it's time you start paying us rent or move out and get your own place. Heck, I wasn't about to pay my folks to live with them so the hunt for an apartment started immediately. Fortunately, I had a job for a couple of years so I had some money saved up. I think my parents thought I would choose to stay at home and they'd be able to get a piece of it but I've been looking for an excuse to get away from them and they gave it to me. It wasn't long before I found a place with a friend of mine riding his couch. This

wasn't my long term plan of course but it gave me a chance to get away from my parents. Within that month I found a guy from work who had just been forced to kick his roommate out of their place for not paying as part of the rent. This dude was really cool and possibly the kindest guy I'd ever met but he wasn't a pushover. We talked about each of our predicaments and decided I would take his former roomie's place and it's where I would stay until just recently. We got along great probably because we were a lot alike and it also helped we work different shifts. Our days off were spent on the couch playing halo and throwing down many bottles of beer. Drug tests at work prevented us from enjoying things

of an herbal variety but we managed to have a good time anyway. Nothing out of the ordinary happened for the first few months but one night I got a shock of a lifetime. I had crashed out early one night after working a 12-hour shift, the third of that week. I'm not sure what the time was, but at some point, a loud banging at my door drew me from my sleep. In a slow and groggy state, I rolled over to see what had caused it. That's when I came eye to eye with my roommate. I was so shocked I could have jumped onto my skin. After taking a second to catch my breath, I yelled at him. Dude, what? But the reaction I expected never came. Turning on my overhead lamp, I still received no feedback. Utterly confused, I walked up to him and

stared directly at his face. He just looked ahead, standing like a statue, saying nothing. This is when I realized that he must be sleepwalking. Although I considered waking him up, I seem to have remembered that you weren't supposed to do it, so I slowly turned him around and walked him back to his room. When we got there, I told him to go to bed and believe it or not, he did. Very pleased with myself and still horribly tired, I went back to my room and locked the door. The rest of the night was happily uneventful. The next time I saw him which was about two days later I timidly mentioned it to him. I was unsure if he was even aware he did it and I didn't want to embarrass him. To my relief he was well aware of his condition. Yeah man it's something I've been doing since I was a kid. Like most things

in his life he was able to laugh it off. He did however apologize for scaring me and assured me that I handled it the right way. I more than likely wouldn't have been able to wake him up anyway. In the future he would be sure to lock his bedroom door and suggested I do the same. There was no guarantee it would keep him in or out but it was worth a shot. I'd had no other run-ins with my zombie roomie for another four months and when I did I handled it the same way as I had before. After thinking about it for a while it seemed stupid to get mad about the situation. It wasn't something he could control. Besides, there were certain protocols I could take to keep him out of my room at night and

once I did, I never received another nocturnal visit again. Sadly, by the end of that year, it would cease to be a worry in either of our lives. On December 3rd, I had only just returned from a three-day vacation. A vacation my boss had forced me to take because I was grossly over-recruited on my vacation time. I didn't tell him, but I was hoping to combine that time with the other three days I had coming so I could drink all the way through the holidays till January 3rd. Since my plans had been ruined, my mood was on the bad side. I was vegging out on the couch when I got a phone call from work. The moment I saw the number on my phone it put me in an even worse mood but I decided to answer it in case it was my roommate that was the one calling.

Is your roommate there? He hasn't shown up for work today. Unfortunately, it was my boss. I was quick to remind him in the kindest way possible, of course, that I was not his mother and I had not seen him in a few days. My boss asked me to check his room and see if he was still sleeping and I did because he was my boss but he was nowhere to be seen. His bed was still messed up which was strange. His anal retentive nature would never let him leave the house without making it. I promised my boss I'd call him if I heard from him and I hung up. As soon as I hung up I called my roomie but got no answer. Doing the only thing I could I left a message and went on with my day. There was still no return calls that evening. It really was unlike him to drop off the map like this, but he must have had

his reasons. The next morning I checked in on his room to see what time he'd finally came back, but everything still looked as it had the day before. It was definitely a head scratcher. This type of behavior was very unlike him. You never know though. I'd only known him a couple of years. Maybe he had a dark side I'd never seen. Shortly before I left the apartment for work my phone rang. I checked the caller ID. It was a number I didn't recognize but then an idea hit me. He must have lost his phone and I answered it trying not to laugh at him. Is this Anthony Curtis? The voice on the other end was not who I expected. I said yes and

his next question was if I was a friend of my roommate and I answered yes once again. Before he could ask me another question I asked him one. Who are you and what do you want? His answer threw me for a loop. I'm sorry, Mr. Curtis. My name is Detective Jones with Littleton Police Department. I'm afraid your roommate, Daniel Grant, has been in an auto accident and I regret to inform you he passed away at the hospital in the early hours of December 3rd. All I could say back to him was,

What? Shock could not begin to describe what I felt that moment. I guess I had gone silent because at some point I heard him saying, Hello, are you still there? After I took a deep, jagged breath breath I was finally ready to answer him. Yeah. I'm here. What happened? Where did this occur? I was full of questions. He should have been in his room at that time sleeping not in public. I continued to ask the cop questions. All we know at this time sir was that he was involved in a single car crash.

He collided with a power pole as he ran off the road. His next series of questions would begin to unravel the mystery. Are you aware of any reason why Mr. Grant should have been on the road that time of night? I told him. That's the strange thing. He should have been home sleeping. He had work that afternoon. He had never went out at night regardless.

Well, it was strange that he was driving only wearing his boxers. That's when the whole thing clicked into place. I think I understand now, Detective. He was a sleepwalker. He must have been driving in his sleep. Our discussion continued for a few minutes longer and then I made the terrible call to his parents to notify them of the accident. They drove into town from Pueblo the next day. The arrangements were made to return his body to Pueblo and the date and time of the funeral was set for three days later.

Just to show how loved he was by everyone who knew him, our supervisors halted all work for that day to allow everyone to attend the funeral. I'm not a fan of funerals overall, but this was one I would never have dreamed of missing. Sending my best friend off right was the least I could do for him. The complete facts of the story were soon released and it seemed to have played out just as I feared. Danny had sleepwalked his way out of his locked bedroom door out to his car and down the road. I had no idea sleepwalking could go this far but after a discussion with my doctor I learned how serious the condition could become. Despite the fact neither of us had any idea of how dangerous his sleepwalking could be, I can't help but feel a small amount of guilt in relation to his death. Maybe if we had done some research we could have put some safeguards into place, but honestly how safe would a pair of two 20 year olds really have been? One of us

probably would have passed out after a long night of video games and drinking and left the doors unlocked. The fact is, Danny's death was a freak accident, plain and simple. I stayed in our apartment for a couple of years more and just recently decided to let it go once my girlfriend and I found a house to rent together. I guess I stayed around so long without finding another roommate because it would have made his death more real. My girlfriend and I would often do the same things Danny and I did on my days off and it was almost as fun as the old days but in the end I realized as long as I stayed in that apartment I would never truly be able to accept he was gone.

So last month, the decision was made to pass the place on to another pair of young guys from work. They had been having a hard time finding a place to rent and since I'd been in their position not that long ago, it was the right thing to do. I truly hope they have as much fun in that place as Danny and I did and that their friendship doesn't end in such a tragic way as ours. In my younger years I had a bit of a substance problem and most of my friends did too. Once I'd started it wasn't long before my parents kicked

me out of the house. I don't blame them. If my kids were stealing everything that wasn't nailed down to sell for dope I'd have done the same. I started out on the streets but I was soon helped out by a couple of friends of mine that had a place in a trailer park. Larry and Shonda had been together for at least 10 years and that whole time their relationship had been more volatile than a meth lab. In the brief time I stayed with them, I must have seen them beat the crap out of each other at least once a week. I could never figure out if the fights were caused by the dope or if it was just the way their friendship was. Everyone who knew them chose not to get involved because the one time somebody did, they were attacked by both of them. Let them kill each other, I don't care, was the attitude of most, but no one truly meant it.

Unfortunately, they almost did many times, but the last fight proved to go farther than any had before. Much farther. I'd lived on their couch for about two months when it happened. We spent most of our days separate or together trying to figure out ways to hustle up some money to score. I'd been working odd jobs with another friend of ours for the last two weeks. Whether it was removing window air conditioning units from windows for old folks or painting people's mailboxes, we did it. On recycling days I'd steal a grocery cart and go around neighborhoods picking

up bottles and cans to cash in for money. I did alright and I only had to work for a few hours each morning to do it. Shonda and Larry usually worked together as a team. Their hustles were usually illegal but on occasion, they'd lower themselves and beg on street corners or downtown. However though, they'd usually steal things from stores and then sell those same things to certain people that wanted them. Kind of like ordering things from a friend and then selling those things to you for half price, sometimes less. It was definitely a prolific deal, but the dangers of getting arrested were too high for me. Kicking is terrible anytime but in jail it's the worse.

I'd prefer my freedom thank you. All three of us had an exceptionally good day so we scored more than usual. I'd just taken a handful of pills about an hour before and I was sprawled out across the couch enjoying my high. Shonda and Larry had gone in their room at some point to do who knows what. I'd been nodding in and out for god knows how long when I was slapped back into reality by a blood-curdling series of screams. Not the usual kind like when they fought, but the kind you hear in a horror movie. I was so whacked out I wasn't sure what was going on. All I know is I was scared out of my mind. The screams lasted for a good 20 seconds before everything

went quiet. About a minute later Shonda and Larry's bedroom door flew open so hard the knob banged into the wall. I could hear Shonda crying and mumbling to herself at the other end of the hall. Since I had zero idea of what had happened the only thing I could figure out to do was pretend I was asleep so that's just what I did. I never got involved in their drama before and this probably wasn't the right time to start. I picked up a blanket from the end of the couch, pulled it over me and closed my eyes. The sounds of her footsteps came echoing down the hall. My only fear was that she would attack me in my sleep, but I kept playing possum as she got closer. Finally her steps

stopped and I could hear her heavy breathing behind me. The wait was agonizing but I didn't move. After what seemed like an eternity her steps started again and continued until I heard the front door open and close. I exhaled so loudly I was afraid for a moment that Shonda would hear me through the door and come back in, but she didn't. Her leaving in no way relieved my fear. I sat up and started thinking through what I believed had happened. I had originally thought those screams were coming from Shonda, but the more I analyzed it in my head, they may have come from Larry. So with a large amount of hesitation I headed down the hall.

I stopped almost immediately because what appeared to be bloody footprints were laid out before me. Despite the blood, I knew I had to see what I had to see to see what was up. Continuing down the hall, trying to avoid the blood, I finally arrived at the open bedroom door. Slowly raising my eyes till I reached the bed, his blood covered body laid completely still on the bed. As I got closer, I realized his nude upper body was riddled with wounds. Trying not to yell out, I put my hand over my mouth to let out a muffled whine. Regardless of how dirty my life had been, I had never seen anything close to as awful as this.

Larry was beyond help now, his eyes wide open and mouth stuck in a spasm of screams. He was definitely gone. I quickly turned around and walked back into the hall. I wasn't sure at first what to do, but I knew I couldn't let that crazy tweaker get away with this, so against my instincts, I called 911. Even before the 5-0 showed up I knew what they would do. Once they had ransacked the trailer to their satisfaction they finally decided to find out who had done this to Larry. They wasted a large amount of time trying to pin it on me but once it became clear I hadn't any reason to do it they started looking for Shonda three hours later.

I know I shouldn't say I was shocked but the cops found her relatively quickly. It helped she continue to walk the streets for hours in broad daylight holding the weapon while being coated in blood but hey, even a broke clock is right twice a day. She was so warped and out of it she asked for Larry for at least six hours after they brought her in. Since I didn't have anything on me except for the ones in my system of course they let me go. Obviously I had no place to go so I made a decision I should have made years before. I took a cab to my parents place.

At first they were far from happy to see me but once I told them I was ready to get clean and what the final straw had been, we had a big hug and a cry. They found a place they could admit me that evening and that's where I stayed for the next 90 days. The first few weeks were terrible and I thought about quitting more than once but each time I remembered Larry's screams of agony, it made my agony weak in comparison. When I was released three months later, I was welcomed back into my family, and I'm proud to say that I've been a welcome part of it ever since. Now, I'm not going to say there weren't a couple of trip-ups, but once I began counseling, I was finally able to deal with my guilt related to Larry's death, among other things. Twelve years on, I'm a family man and a drug counselor at a county jail

I once spent some time in and a year doesn't go by that I don't tell this story to each group I counsel. When it comes to Shonda she took the plea deal offered to her and ended up with a 40 year sentence. From what I understand if she keeps her nose clean and gets good time, she may be out in about 25. I hope she thinks about Larry every day for those 40 years and it motivates her to stay clean. I don't necessarily hold a grudge against her. Larry was far from a saint and gave out as much as he got. For all I know, he did something to cause a woman that he was well aware of was mentally unstable to end him. She never really said why she did what she did but the reason is ultimately unimportant.

A man died and did so in a horrifying way. So keep that in mind the next time you take the hit or snort that rail. Not everyone around you may treasure your life as much as you do and just because you may call someone a friend they might not be there for you when you most need them. I've spent a large amount of my free time lurking in this sub and have noticed how many of those here have been able to help other posters who have asked for it. Well, it looks like my turn has come to ask, and I really hope you guys can do the same for me because I've got myself into a bad spot and don't have a clue what to do about it. The final week of December, a waiter at work offered me the spare bedroom in his apartment. He'd initially used it for storage but since his girlfriend had moved out, he saw no reason to let it sit empty.

That night, my mother and I sat down and talked about it. I'd never considered moving out before. My mom and I had always got along fine and I saw no reason to take on the expense. Besides, I was a big introvert and didn't do well with others. That's why I took the job as a prep cook. It meant I spent the majority of my shift alone. I'm not autistic or anything like that. My personality most likely spawned from being an only child with few friends. I guess I'd gotten used to being alone. My decision was to turn down the offer until my mom suggested it may be a good way to draw myself somewhat from my shell. Despite my reluctance, my mother's advice

had always served me well so when I saw the waiter at work the following day, I accepted his offer and we shook hands to seal the deal. By the end of that weekend, I'd finished moving my things into my new room. The waiter, whose name is Devin, seemed a little shocked I had moved in so quickly but I guess he thought I would wait until after the new year. I saw no reason to wait since Christmas had already passed and I never celebrated the new year's holiday. He invited me to a party but like I said I never saw the point in the whole thing anyway so I turned down the offer and wished him a good evening and a safe return. The next evening we had a nice dinner and took the opportunity to

get to know each other better. Following dinner I turned in. At some point in the night I was awakened by a light banging noise on the wall above my head. I laid still for some time and waited for the noise to occur again, but it didn't. Just before I could close my eyes, a long ray of light stretched across my wall. It looked like a flashlight at first, but when I sat up in my bed and took a peek out of the blinds, I saw a car with its headlights on reversing out of a parking spot directly facing my window. It seemed obvious to me that this was the source of light so I laid back down and fell asleep soon after when I saw Devin at work the next day I mentioned the banging noise and passing and he said he hadn't heard it he did bring up the light however and explain that car's headlights

from the road often reflected off of something in our bedroom windows and it wasn't anything to worry about it did seem strange that he brought this up considering I hadn't mentioned it to him. I just nodded and went about my work, but soon after, I remember that Devin's bedroom window faced the outer wall of another apartment block. How light could enter his window from that side left me a tad perplexed, but it wasn't an important thing to worry about, and I soon forgot about it. Once my work was done, I drove back to the apartment. I'd undressed and was heading to the shower like I did every day after work and when I opened my closet, I noticed a few of my shirts had fallen off their hangers and onto the

floor. This wasn't a big thing to concern myself with until I saw what appeared to be a shoe print on one of the shirts, like someone had knocked it off the hanger and then stepped on it. The shoe was much larger than mine and besides that, I didn't wear shoes in the apartment. The carpets had just been steam cleaned and I wanted to keep them clean as long as possible. Now I was starting to get anxious. I began searching my room to see if any more of my things looked out of place. Nothing else appeared to have been moved so I wrote it off as the result of an overactive mind and went about my day. The event that's motivated me to write this post happened this afternoon. I had finished my prep work early and headed home. When I came in the door and turned

down the hall to my room, Devin came out of my room. Although I'm not good at reading others' body language, it was obvious I had surprised him. He asked me what I was doing home so early and I told him. I didn't have much prep because the previous night had been slow. He fumbled for his words and before he could say anything, I asked him what he was doing in my room. His answer was this, Oh, uh, I misplaced something and I was checking if maybe it was in your room, maybe. I asked what he had lost and after a few seconds of thought, he said it was a lighter. But it's not in there, I guess, so I'm going to go in my room some more before I leave for work. Honestly confused at the whole way the situation unfolded, I just said okay.

Before I could get the whole word out, Devin shot into his room and slammed the door behind him. I immediately went into my room to check and see if anything was missing or moved. Once I'd searched everything else, my dresser and even under my bed, I headed for the closet. Since I'd replaced the shirts that had fallen off their hangers, I didn't know if they'd been knocked off again and, believe it or not, one had indeed fallen onto the floor of the closet much like it had before. However, this time, there was a white powder, similar to plaster, dusted on the shoulders of a few other shirts and on the closet floor. This motivated me to search around the closet, under the carpet,

the back wall, but nothing caught my eye until I looked up and noticed a square framed door in the ceiling. I'm still unsure what it is, but I thought if I could stand on something like a footstool, I may be able to open it and see what purpose it serves. At the foot of my bed, I had a wooden chair I use as my desk, so I grabbed it to stand on. I first checked it to make sure I was sturdy enough to hold my body weight and it seemed to be. I carried it to the closet and stood upon it. As my face got within roughly one foot of the door my nose picked up a foul and nasty smell I had never detected before. I started to push on the square board that served as a door but something in the back of my mind, my instincts perhaps, told me to stop so I did. I sat down

in the chair and tried to make sense of it all and realized I had no idea what was going on. So that's why I'm here, posting the story. I'm at a loss at what I should do or how I should handle the entire situation. I'm very aware of how odd this all is but I honestly lack the life experience to understand and resolve this problem. So I'm putting this question to you all. What do I do? About a week after my 21st birthday I moved into a house with my brother and his childhood friend Devin. We were all old enough to drink legally so we spent the majority of our time off from school getting blasted. I'd always been the lover instead of the fighter when it came to my behavior when drunk and my brother was the same. I know from experience that some are of the fighter when it came to my behavior went drunk and my brother was the same.

I know from experience that some are instead the fighter and when you run into one of them, it's the best policy to attempt to de-escalate the situation before it becomes an actual fight. In the following story, I discover to my own detriment that sometimes regardless of how you act toward one of them, they only become even more angry and this puts you in a no-win situation. Devin had known my brother since he was about 5 and myself since I was about 3. The two of us had never been close or even friends for that matter. For my part, I didn't hate the guy, he just gave me a bad feeling. Despite that, we were always able to get along with each other, perhaps for the sake of my brother. We'd avoided getting into a fight once or twice, but that was just because of kid drama crap, nothing serious in any way.

He had always been a stocky guy, naturally muscular, you could say. Once he hit his teens, he shot up to around 6 feet and at that point, I think he realized most people were scared of him. This fact seemed to make him even more rude and pushy towards others and this attitude even extended to me, everyone but my brother. Him being a pushy idiot was just something I had come to accept and it hadn't entered my mind since high school. Therefore when my older brother Sean asked me to move in with he and Devin I accepted right away.

Sean and I had always looked out for each other and I enjoyed hanging out with him. He never got on my nerves and as far as I know, I didn't get on his, so this sounded like a cool living arrangement. We had a giant house party the first weekend after we all moved in and it was a blast. Devin was a bit of an idiot once he got drunk. He made a few demeaning jokes at my expense, but most of the people present at the time kind of blew him off. Like I said, everyone knew how he was. The possibility that he was going to be a problem started to show up that night. I'm not talking about the jokes towards me, those mean nothing. This was much worse. Some little preppy kid with an attitude bigger than

Devin had made some remark about my brother and Devin got up in the kid's face instantly. The preppy kid must have known he was in a bad spot because he made a quick back step and apologized to Sean. Despite that, Devin continued to talk crap to the kid until he was forced to leave. After watching this whole mess, I mentioned my concern to Sean, but Sean could only tell me to stop being such a wuss. He'd been making excuses for Devon our whole life and I should have expected this reaction, but this was a different situation as far as I could tell. We had to live with the guy, but as normal, my words were ignored. Happily, no other problems reared their heads that night and much fun was had by all.

Waking up on the bathroom floor is always a sign of a great party, isn't it? Life went back to normal pretty quickly. Long days of classes and short weekends of drinking. Sometime in the middle of April, Devin and I had our first incident. Sean was out that night with his girlfriend so Devin and I were the only ones at home. We'd been playing games on our new PS3 and getting loaded when he decided to start calling me a wuss because I didn't want to take a shot of Jäger with him. I didn't really like the taste of that crap and it made me sick but that wasn't good enough for him. He began saying

the word over and over again until I got sick of hearing it and told him to shut up. This was the worst thing you could say to him. He reached over and grabbed me with his right hand and pinned me to the floor. Now I know I've mentioned how big Devin was but I left out the fact that he was also on the powerlifting team at school and was strong as a bull. I on the other hand was a 140 pound 5pound, 5 feet 10-inch stick figure. As he held me there, he made it clear that, I'll call you wuss as long as I want. You can't stop me, right? From that position I was in, I could only agree with him.

Rough and a strangled voice, Sure, Devin. You're the boss. He let out a self-satisfied, arrogant laugh and let go of my throat. Once I got free, I had no interest in hanging out with King Idiot anymore. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed my twelve pack of stones from the fridge, watching the whole time in case he decided he wanted to pound me into the carpet. I took what was left of my beer and went into my room and locked the door. I could hear him out in the living room saying, come on idiot come back out here, you little wussy. Ignoring him

I put on my headphones and watched YouTube for the rest of the night. Sean and I had to talk about what he had done to me the next morning. Actually saying Sean told me to stop being a whiny baby would be more accurate. Judging from how he reacted toward me before when it came to Devin, I shouldn't have been surprised but since we were brothers, we were supposed to stand up for each other, we always had. I made the decision that I wouldn't drink alone with Devin again. He surely wouldn't do that sort of crap to me in front of Sean, but I was wrong. The next time I had a run-in with Devin was also the last. It had been several months since our last episode and I'd done my best to put it behind me, but if I'm honest,

I was still a tad nervous when I was around him, but I felt safe as long as Sean was with us. Like normal, we had been out drinking that afternoon and had continued to party back at home. If I remember right, we were playing a game of drunk scrabble and the thing that set it off was my correcting of Devin's spelling. He had spelled the word subtle as S-U-T-T-L-E and I made the grand faux pas of pointing it out. Like I said, we'd been drinking all day and my guard was well and truly down. I don't want anyone to think that I was being a know-it-all, but my intent was to follow the rules, that's it. But when I pointed it out,

Sean emitted a short burst of laughter and this angered Devin. Naturally, he couldn't get mad at the guy who'd laughed at him. Instead, he sat up and reached across the table and knocked me on my backside. I fell back so hard I hit my head on the floor. So hard I ended up with a mild concussion. When I stood up I looked over at Sean but he acted as if though I had fallen myself instead of getting knocked over by his best friend. This made me mad and I confronted him but his only words for me were, it's your fault man you asked for it. Should have kept that crap to yourself. Indignant about what Sean just said, I looked across the table at Devin,

and he just gave me his usual smug grin. This was the last straw. Any guy who wouldn't stand up for his brother isn't worth crap. The next morning, I started moving my things back into my room at my parents' house. Of course, Sean tried to talk me out of it a few times, but I had nothing left to say and he knew it. This was only a temporary measure until my girl and I could get our own place. We did a couple of weeks later and other than a handful of times at school, I never spoke to Devin or Sean again. Some of you may criticize me for cutting my brother out of my life for something such as this, but think very hard. Isn't the job of an

older brother to protect his little brother from other people, especially bullies regardless of their age? If you witnessed another man, a much bigger man at that, strike your little brother, wouldn't you at least say something to that bully? Well folks, this happened to me multiple times and my much larger brother let the bully strike me and did absolutely nothing. Actually you may say that he openly encouraged it. So my view is that if your family aren't willing to help you and freely choose an outsider over their brother, a person who they grew up with and share blood with, you owe them nothing. This tale I've shared with you occurred almost 12 years ago and Sean and I still have not spoken. My family, my wife and three sons spend holidays with my mother the day after he does. I told my mother to tell him if he wants to renew our relationship, all he has to do is cut that

cancer Devin out of his life. We could put our past where it belongs but he apparently feels his friendship with Devin is more important than knowing his nephews. That's his choice and I refuse to let it hold me back. This misfortune that managed to separate two brothers who once loved each other has been an important lesson to me and one I have been determined to teach my sons. Be it son, brother or dad, no one should ever choose someone who is in the wrong over their own blood. The names and locations in this post will be changed in order to preserve the privacy of those involved and to avoid any further pain associated with the incident. Some will believe this is a cop-out but unless you were there when it happened you'll never be able to understand how something like

this can destroy a person's ability to move on with their life and have a meaningful future. When the time came for me to go off to college my mother insisted I live in the dorms for at least my first two years. She said this was an essential part of the college experience and the friendships I made would last forever. I didn't bother to remind her that none of her friends from school still contacted her. It was more likely one of those greatest days of our lives sentiments that you see in movies like Saint Elmo's Fire. After all she was about that age. I attempted to get the idea across that it was not like her and didn't get along with other girls but she quickly poo-pooed the idea and accused me of being a

prima donna like usual her desire to relive her sorority days through me left me with no say in my living situation and I found myself living in a musty old building with a bunch of hyperactive brain-dead girls. My first day at the dorms, I met my roommate. For the sake of the story, I'll call her Sybil. She was a quiet, shy, and cute little girl that said very little, so thankfully she wasn't as bad as I feared. I made it clear to her from the start that I was here to learn and get my degree, so I could start living my real life and was in no way interested in partying and chasing frat boys. She simply said okay and with that simple one word answer I knew we were going to get along just fine. School was almost exactly what I expected it to be. Juiced up pretty boys and overly aggressive

feminists complaining about everything under the sun. I did my best to block out all this chaos and focus on my studies. As far as I could tell, Sybil was trying to do the same. She did voice her concerns the first week of classes saying they were harder than she expected but didn't say anything else about the subject again. Other than when I returned to our room at night to sleep I saw very little of her the first month or so. The loud cheeriness of the other girls drove me to do my studies in the library, a place I soon fell in love with. When semester tests ended I was free to spend more time in our room and talk to Sybil about her school experience so far. The girl I had

met a couple of months ago was very different from the one sitting across from me then. The stress of school was obviously affecting her psychologically. As I talked to her, she would mindlessly twirl and pull her hair out from the root. Every other sentence lacked any sense and as she spoke, she grew more and more uneasy. I mentioned my concern for her but she acted as if she didn't hear and continued her agitated rambling. Tomorrow everyone would be going home for the Christmas break and I convinced myself once she returned home her health would improve or at least her parents would get her the help she needed. Despite feeling guilty about leaving her alone,

I had a few things I had to get done before I flew home in the morning. Returning to our room an hour later, I was relieved to see Sybil asleep in bed. Doing the best I could not to wake her, I finished packing my luggage and soon turned in myself. I'm not sure how long I'd been asleep when I was awakened by a banging noise across the room from me. Once I was able to open my eyes and comprehend what was happening, I saw a dark figure on Sybil's side of the room picking up suitcases and folding clothes. Turning on my bedside lamp, I quietly asked her what she was doing. I'm packing for my trip, honey. Go back to sleep. Sorry I woke you.

This made no sense to me. We had plenty of time to get ready in the morning before we had to be out of the dorms. I initially thought I had overslept or something but the time on my clock said 3.23am. Are you having a hard time sleeping or something? You can do that crap in the morning. Once again she ignored what I said and continued to pack. Picking up her large suitcase she placed it on her bed and took her smaller one from the floor by her feet and stacked on top of the other. When I saw this I became more confused. Sitting up in bed I started to ask her again what she was doing but before I said a single word she turned to face the window, raised her hand and swiped in one quick smooth motion across

her throat. She let out a loud gurgle and dropped to the floor next to her bed. It wasn't until her body hit the floor that I realized what she had done. Blood bubbled from her throat and mouth. I couldn't do anything but scream, loudly and over and over. I watched as the color drained from her face. Her hands slowly opened and that's when I saw the small piece of razor that she had cut herself with. I'm not sure when the other girls entered the room. I was entranced by the lifeless look in her face but the scream of another girl in the room snapped me out of it. Annie, one of the girls living at the end of the hall, ran in with a towel and pressed it to her throat, but it was no use. When the paramedics arrived about ten minutes later,

they pronounced her dead. At some point, a couple of the girls in the dorm walked me out of our room and sat me down on a chair in the hall. The rest of the night and into the next morning, I remained in a state of shock. The school brought in grief counselors that morning to talk to everyone. Many of the girls did but I stayed in a stupor until my parents flew out to escort me home that afternoon. I'm thankful to all the girls on our floor that helped me and contacted my family and explained the circumstances to them. I had grossly misjudged many of them and for that I'll always be sorry. My mother had proved correct. At least in this case I was being a prima donna. The afternoon before my parents and I flew home I had to speak with the detectives investigating this. I did my best to describe what had happened

despite how hard it was. They did want me to know that I shouldn't feel responsible for it. Her parents had told them that Sybil had said many times on phone calls that she was homesick and was having a hard time with her studies. She was from a small town in Missouri and going off to school had been a massive dose of culture shock. Add that to the fact that she was failing most of her classes, the pressure must have all boiled over. Regardless of what the detectives and my parents were telling me, I couldn't help but feel a large amount of complicity in her death. I had spent so much time worrying about myself and ignoring the actions of others

that I missed her slow descent into illness. I'm not sure if she had needed someone to talk to, I would have been the right person. My smug attitude towards the others I shared the campus with had made me a miserable bore. When the time came, I chose not to attend the funeral. I was sure the last person her parents would want there was the roommate that ignored their daughter's illness and had not even bothered to mention her strange behavior to anyone. I made the excuse to my parents that Missouri was too far away but that was the truth of why I didn't go. The idea of returning to that particular school was beyond possible. The thought of all the accusatory looks and glares was too much to handle.

I decided to take some time off and deal with what had happened. The next six months was spent in counseling, in group and solo. This helped me deal with my guilt surrounding the event and overall improved my attitude towards others. Three years later, I'm in my final year of college at a small local university just a short drive from my parents' house. All this time later, my mother has begun to accept that I'm my own person, and I've come to the realization that I was far too immature to move across the country and go to a huge college filled with strangers. The bad attitude I had towards others was a self-defense mechanism to hide my insecurity and fear of being so far away from home and those I loved. That had been the way I handled it and unfortunately, Sybil dealt with hers in her own way.

Sadly, her way cost far more than mine. I teach in a school that was built in the 1940s on the same property as the old one-room schoolhouse, still standing and used, in a town that is now and was historically home to a Native American population. The school is a typical mid-century building, heavy wooden doors, brass fixtures, tile, etc. My classroom had one main door and two closets. One of the closets is directly behind where the main door opens, so when I open the main door the whole way, it hits the closed closet door. This closet is the epicenter of the haunting and experiences we have had. My first year teaching there I would hear some knocks and banging coming from the closet area, but always chalked it up to hallway noises or sounds coming from the pipes in the halls. Again, an old building. There would occasionally be papers on the floor when I

arrived in the morning, but nothing that raised any red flags. About three months into the school year one of my students in sixth grade came up to me with no background on the noises or context and said, just so you know, I'm sensitive to these types of things and there's a little girl ghost near that closet. Have a good day. Super creepy, I know, so it made me think about it and, again, I just sort of let it go. Over the subsequent years, the bangs continued. A couple of times it was a knocking so distinct the students would hear it and ask if someone was at the door. Once, I even had to open the closet to see if someone was inside of it, playing a trick on us.

It should be noted that I use this closet for my coat and bag, some school supplies and the first aid kit, so I'm in there daily. The knocking prompted a few students to get those silly phone apps that ghost track and pick up on words being said. Four of them stayed after school one day and used the same app at the same time to see if they gave consistent results, and immediately a giant red splotch appeared on all of the apps in the location of the closet. They asked some questions to no avail, until they asked for a name and all of the phones showed the word Bronwyn. Some research showed that this was a typical female name popular in the 19th century. Fast forward this school year, after hearing the

knocking and papers being strewn about pretty consistently, the teacher who was across the hall from me, big dude from Brooklyn in his 50s, no nonsense type of guy, comes into my room one morning and says, I know this is going to sound insane, but I was here working late last night and I heard kids laughing in the hall. I came out to see who was up here when they weren't supposed to be and there was no one. But I realized the laughing was coming from your room. The door was opened and the lights were off and there was definitely laughter coming from your room. I went in and there was no one there but the closet was open.

I went back into the hall and heard whispering start in the room. I snuck over to the door, heard whispering followed by some giggles and quickly went in and snapped on the lights to see if there were kids hiding in there. There was no one. He then said he got his things and left for the night. The following week when I arrived to school on two separate days I opened the main door only to hit the closet door that was opened. I attributed that to me just not closing it the whole way the night before and it just creeping more open as doors tend to do. Then yesterday happened. Two days ago I went to open the closet and it was locked.

This closet has never been locked. There is no way to lock the closet without a key which I have never seen. No one has this key. It's been lost to the ages. I called the custodians in and they came in with their giant ring of a billion keys and tried every single one to no avail. The door wouldn't budge. They tried to pick the lock. Nothing. They said they would try more after school but if they couldn't get it open they would either take the door down

or call a locksmith to open it. I put my bag and coat near my desk and went about my day. Yesterday I got to school and went to open the closet to see if they had gotten it open after I had left for the day and it wouldn't budge, still very locked. Locked to the point where the knob barely even moved when you try to open it. Here's when my heart starts to beat faster. Fifth period I was teaching, a class that had been there when the custodians were in the day before and it was quiet in the room. Literally out of nowhere, with no one near the closet, the door softly clicked and slowly opened about four inches. My heart almost stopped. The students were justifiably shaken and I have absolutely zero explanation for this.

Nothing was moved in the closet, it just simply opened on its own after being completely locked. So that's where I'm at. I'm planning on trying to set up the webcam on my computer at work to see if I can capture anything in the near future. I don't think they're malicious ghosts, but let me tell you, it's a bit unsettling to be in there, alone. In 2005, I was 16 and my brother was 14. I was a month or so into my senior year of high school, having skipped the 8th grade. He was a freshman who had been going through an emotional rough patch and was growing very close to his first girlfriend in her family. We later learned that part of the rough patch was that he was beginning to realize he was more attracted to boys than said first girlfriend. I'm happy to report before we get through this story that he is now coming up on 28, married to a man he adores and a successful EMT. As troubled as he was at the time and that might

have something to do with this, his story does have a happy ending. My brother often went to his girlfriend's house after school. Today her mom had picked him and an assortment of friends up and driven them out to the local mall which was in another town about half an hour away. It was about 5 30 p.m in California, late August, still bright outside. My mom had called me ahead of time to ask what I wanted from a local chain restaurant that did take out and to double check that my brother wasn't home and set the table for two. About 15 minutes into dinner we heard something that sounded like someone walking on the roof. We lived in a split level home so

the lower level where the dining room was was easily accessible if someone wanted to climb it. My mom and I stopped eating and listened. Then came the sounds of multiple small somethings hitting the roof like hailstones. The sound seemed to sweep over the whole lower level of the house and the stomping grew louder. My mom threw down her fork and shouted for me to get into my room. The least accessible from outside the house due to the split level design. My room sat over the garage with no ledges or anything that someone could use to climb. As I ran through the living room, I looked at the living room window.

There were rocks falling on the lawn. My mom grabbed her cell phone and followed me into my room where we shut the door and barricaded it. My mom called 911. She didn't know what else to do. Whatever was on the roof managed to climb up onto the roof of the second story, which would have been difficult without a ladder, but not necessarily impossible. We could hear someone stomping around above us as my mom frantically whispered to the dispatcher. Down the hall, something shattered. We went silent as the sound of footsteps came pacing deliberately down the hall, growing closer to my room. I leaned on the barricade as silently as I

could. I was in tears now, and I think my mom was trying hard not to be. Whatever was on the barricade as silently as I could. I was in tears now and I think my mom was trying hard not to be. Whatever was on the other side of the door slowly scratched it, then turned around and could be heard going back down the hall. They're inside the house, my mom told the dispatcher. The dispatcher gave my mom a code word that the police would use to identify themselves so she would open the door. I don't remember what it was, only that the house was silent after the person on the other side of the door had walked away. About 15 minutes passed with us just waiting in the room in dread. I suggest it was a prank by my brother and his friends. My mom agreed that was the best case scenario. Eventually we heard the sound on our front door being forced open and a fresh shed of heavy footsteps which turned out to be the local police.

They came upstairs, gave the code word and quickly escorted us onto our front lawn so they could check the house. When we got there, the lawn was full of rocks. Not piled, not even so full that the grass was hidden. But there were rocks nonetheless, the lightweight gravelly kind some people use in landscaping. According to the police, the roof of the lower level was similarly covered. When we were cleared to go back inside, one of the officers called my mom up to the bathroom and I followed. The bathroom window was broken from the outside but the mesh screen behind it was intact. An area about the size of my fist had seemingly been punched into with the shards landing in the

tub below. The plumbing in that tub was damaged so we had all been using the shower in my mom's bathroom for a while and the floor of the unused tub was dusty. This made it very clear that there were two bare footprints in the dust. Nothing could have come through that window. Nothing should have been able to break in from the outside even without damaging the screen. We still wanted it to be a prank by my brother but that was seeming less and less likely. The police called my brother's cell phone. He, it turned out, was still at the mall. Our food was untouched. My mom, thankfully, had a spare deadbolt to remount on the front door.

We returned to our dinner, too shaken up to talk, and waited for my brother to get home. Nothing like this ever happened again, unless you count the sticky child-sized handprint that showed up on my bedroom window a couple of years later. My best friend now, as an adult, thinks it was some kind of poltergeist incident, citing the fact that as I entered my own rough patch, unrelated to my brothers, I was run-of-the-mill depressed and anxious and aimless feeling after I had to abandon my initial college plans by being too squeamish to participate in human cadaver dissections in my first anatomy class. I could tell touch activated lamps to turn off and on on my own. Personally I think my voice just vibrated enough but

at the time this happened I was content. My brother was the one going through a hard time and his was bad enough that in about 9 months time, he would try to end himself by jumping off the roof. I wasn't home when this happened but according to my mom, he had jumped from the upper level over my room. She didn't know how he had gotten up there. Thankfully, he had only succeeded in snapping his ankle which ended up requiring surgery to heal properly. He spent a few months in a youth home where my mother would drive out and visit him. Ultimately, by this time he came out, a year and a half or so later, he was well on his way to wellness again, and has grown up to be a successful, happy adult. I feel like on some level my brother's

turmoil had to have caused what happened that day but there are times I wonder whether or not that's just a more comforting easy explanation for something really weird and unknowable. It was August 26th, 2018 and I suddenly woke up with a strange feeling that something bad happened. I look down at my phone to see the time, 1.36am, went into my news app to see a shooting in Jacksonville. I see it's at Jacksonville Landing which is close to where my friend had just moved. I immediately call him but he doesn't answer.

I text him saying I saw the news about the shooting at Jacksonville Landing, wanted to make sure you're okay. I felt at peace afterwards and fell back asleep. He calls around 10am to ask where I got my news about the shooting because he couldn't find any news online about it. He had to meet up with some friends from his new IT job to watch these gamers at the landing but I was adamant that there was no gaming tournament because the shooting happened during it. I freaked him out enough for him and his friends to find something else to do. Almost exactly 12 hours after I sent him that text, at 1.30pm on August 26th, David Katz walked into the same gaming tournament and shot 12 people, killing two before shooting himself. The news articles posted looked identical to the ones I read early that morning. I look back at my phone's text to find my text that

I sent him at 1am missing. Needless to say, we were both a little freaked out. When I was a kid growing up in rural South Carolina, I lived in a very broken home. My grandfather raised me until I was old enough to start school, and then I went to live with my parents and brother who was a year older. My dad was a truck driver and my mom worked at the local truck stop. My parents were very abusive to each other and to my brother and I, my mom was extra mean towards me. Anyways, there was this man that stayed around the house that, in the past year, I have learned is the entity described as the hat man. The hat man would make itself seen during all hours of the day and night, both in the home and around the property.

Everyone who spent any time around the home had seen it. One night when my mother and her co-worker friend got off of work they decided to grab some food and hang out at the house, middle of the night. Mom's friend had her boyfriend tag along with them. The boyfriend saw the entity in the house and it scared him so bad he ran out and refused to enter the house again. At one point my parents had a preacher come pray over the property, even though they weren't religious people, nothing changed. The strange thing is that I was never afraid of the entity. I actually found comfort in knowing it was around and would get slightly excited when I would see it.

My home life was really bad at the time. My parents beat each other routinely and when they got along they would be violent to my brother and I. Looking back I wonder if things being so terrible was the reason I wasn't afraid, because it couldn't be much worse than my reality. We continued to see this entity until a few things happened, and they happened quickly, so I'm not sure what the break was. We moved into another home across town. About the time we got moved in, my father got a DUI, resulting in him losing his truck driver's license and needing to change his life

in a hurry to keep from losing everything. Right after he got his DUI, within two weeks, he and my mother went to church and thankfully changed their lives forever. They never went back to that old lifestyle and dad eventually became a preacher years later. I never saw that entity again after the move. I'm 30 years old and I work in a bakery on night shifts because it is open on weekend nights. It's quite close to a big club and lots of people stop by before going home. I'm a girl, so my boss tries to never let me alone at night, but last Friday his wife called him for an emergency and I found myself on my own around 3am. It was very quiet, I guessed that the club was closed so very few people walked in so far, and I was in the back of the shop working on a cake we would be delivering in the morning

when I heard the doorbell ring. I quickly went to the shop, but nobody was there. The door doesn't close properly if you don't push it hard, and it looks slightly moved like someone just entered, but even looking out through the big glass on the street, nobody was in sight. There's a parking lot and a bar closed at night in front of the shop, but not even a car was there. I started feeling a bit uneasy, but I thought maybe someone was pranking me, trying to scare me. I went back to working on the cake and after half an hour or so, I heard the doorbell ring again. This time I looked on the videos of the shop's cameras and nobody was there.

So I run to the back door trying to reach the parking lot from the right side to see if someone was hiding there trying to prank me. No one. I walked the whole parking lot. I looked at the bar, behind the shop, everywhere. Nothing. I decided to have a smoke just to calm my nerves and I suddenly noticed the silence. No dogs barking, no cars passing by the street in front of the shop, no sounds at all. Everything was just too quiet.

There was a light mist in the air and it was quite dark because just one of the street lights was working. At this point I was kind of freaking out. I felt like I was in a totally detached reality or a different dimension with someone watching me. I'm not really sure how to explain it. I forgot about the cigarette and I went back inside. I closed all the doors of the shop. I didn't care what my boss would think. I was too scared and tried to finish that cake. Nothing more happened but at 6am my boss came back and I explained to him why I kept the shop closed. He told me that something similar happened to a girl that did the night shift before I worked there and that this is the reason why

she didn't work there anymore. I totally understand her. I always loved working at night but I felt uneasy thinking to stay alone there again. Last Saturday and yesterday everything was normal, but I wasn't alone, and I hope to never be again. I'm a 20-year-old girl, and throughout my whole life I feel like I've always been pretty in tune with the paranormal. Admittedly I've become slightly obsessed, not in the summoning of demons way, but more out of too much research and spending my free time and all day at work listening to podcasts like this one. I have many stories to tell but I figured I'd start with one that had been weighing on me for a while. I moved into a new place in December of 2017 with my roommate, we'll call her Nikki. When we moved in I felt a huge weight off my shoulders because

for the first time ever I didn't feel any presence in my home. Skip forward to about May and things had been going pretty well when we find out a family friend who was 16, we'll call her Morgan, didn't have a place to live so we invited her to stay with us. I had known this kid for roughly 15 years and known she came from a really messed up family. She told us her dad was a satanist and had cast a curse on, and now she was being followed by what she described as a shadow creature. With my past of the paranormal, I believed her, but thought nothing of it. A few weeks had passed, and little inconveniences had been happening, such as our coffee table being moved, or mail being scattered across the floor. We have cats, so I didn't think much of it but was pretty annoyed. This kept happening and then gradually started getting weirder, like our entire bottle of laundry detergent being poured out under the dining room table and the empty bottle being set

in the middle of the puddle. At around the same time both Morgan and Nikki started having issues with sleep paralysis. Nikki used to get it all the time when she was a kid but hadn't in years. The strange thing was even though they were separate experiences, both girls claimed to see the same thing, a child-sized black figure. The body was small but the head was way too big and the hands were very long but they couldn't see any other features. Just a black outline. Luckily I didn't have sleep paralysis and I never have in my life so I mistakenly thought that I was safe. One night I was home alone and was in a deep depressing mood.

Everything in the house felt so heavy so I decided to take a nap on the couch. When I woke up I couldn't breathe. It felt like someone was pushing on my chest so I sat up and the pressure was gone. It was then that I noticed the room was dark. Unnaturally dark. My TV was on and the hall light was on so there was no reason my little portion of the living room would be so dark. I decided not to think about it and turned the TV up then started scrolling through my phone. A moment later I heard heavy footsteps coming out of the kitchen directly up behind me. It sounded like a full grown man. I thought someone had come into the house while I was asleep because we always left the sliding glass door in the kitchen

unlocked. Too afraid to turn around and look, I took out my phone and went on my snapchat. I turned on the flash and when I switched to the front facing camera, my screen went completely black and my flash wouldn't work so I drew the courage to turn around. I saw nothing and instantly the room was light again. I grabbed my keys and got out of there until my roommate was off of work. A couple of days had passed and my roommate and I burned sage, oiled all the entrances and told whatever was in the house that it was not welcome and it had to leave. I thought that was the end of it.

We didn't have any more things move. Morgan had moved in with her brother and the house seemed lighter except Nikki was still experiencing sleep paralysis almost every night. Skip forward a couple of weeks and I was lying in bed with my two cats. It was about 3am and I heard pots and pans being moved in the kitchen. My cats woke up and were growling so I grabbed my gun and checked every corner of the house. Nikki was still sleeping so I went back to my room thinking it could have been her cat that likes to hide in the cupboards. The second I shut the door there were three loud bangs on it that made me jump so high I fell back onto my bed. I yelled for the thing to go away.

I didn't want it there and it had to leave. What felt like minutes later I opened the door and my older cat ran out and turned into the kitchen and screamed like she was hurt. I looked for her for an hour and couldn't find her. I went to bed crying. The next morning I woke up and my cat was asleep next to me unharmed and I went to wake up my roommate and told her about the night before. She explained that she had been awake when I got up and also heard three bangs but was too afraid to get out of bed. We oiled again and brought in her mother who worked at the church and she blessed the house. Not too long after Morgan's little brother moved in with

me and we didn't have anything happen after that. It makes me wonder if Morgan's dad really did curse her. He used to always tell his three daughters that they were mistakes and he only intended to have his two sons. That would explain why after she moved in with the older brother it didn't bother her anymore and why when the younger brother came to stay with me the problem went away. All I know is that whatever it was, was so negative. My depression had never been worse and we were always arguing in the house. I'm just glad it's over. My dad runs a church camp for the mentally disabled.

When I was four he brought me along and I had a great time, but for a different reason. I love catching and collecting all the different insects there. I always release them on the last day of camp. Ever since then, I've been going with him to help out and look for bugs. In 2011, we stayed in a cabin since the year before we stayed in a tent and mosquitoes almost ate us alive. The cabin had a hallway with four rooms, two on each side, so my dad and I used the first two. On the second day of camp, I was alone in the cabin while my dad went off to set up stuff. I decided to play with my Lego Indiana Jones minifigures while I kept the insects I collected near me.

Around ten minutes pass and I begin to hear shaking and scratching noise coming from somewhere in the cabin. I chalked it up to being my bugs scratching the little habitat windows I put them in. But when I checked on them a bit later, they were completely silent. I still heard that noise so I went to inspect the cabin. While going through the hallway I checked every door. When I got to the third door I found what that noise was. The third door knob was shaking by itself. Being around seven I immediately ran out and found a counselor nearby. The counselor, thinking it was an animal, opened the door, which wasn't shaking anymore, and started to try and scare it out.

Of course, there wasn't anything and before leaving he said, must have been the wind. Years pass and I'm in McDonald's with some of the staff. I told them the short version of my story and they said they've all had paranormal experiences at the camp. One of them even said that one day she was alone in the manor there and heard footsteps but when she went to check and see who was there no one was to be seen. I'm now 19 but when I was younger I believe I was haunted by a little ghost girl or something because I had a few weird things happen to me. It's mostly mild stuff and it's hard to really remember all the occurrences that happened

since it has been 10 years, but the thing I do remember still creeps me out to this day and maybe someone will be able to explain it. It all started when my mother and father divorced and we moved into a three bedroom and two bath townhome in a new area but old city. One night when I was trying to sleep in my bedroom I all of a sudden heard what sounded like footsteps walking above me. There was no attic, just the roof and it was the strangest thing. I told my dad about it but he didn't care as he doesn't really listen to what I say

most of the time. There were multiple nights where I would hear the footsteps too but I really didn't think much of it. Another time I was sitting in my dad's room on his bed watching a movie. During a quiet part of the film I heard what sounded like a little girl laughing in my dad's closet. I remember panicking almost and thinking if I just heard it in my head or that it didn't really happen, but I couldn't explain it. The movie didn't have any young actresses or actors in it as the show was ironically ghost hunters and it was during the ghost hunting time.

I replayed the part where I heard the laugh and nothing. There was no laughing young girl in the episode. Mind you, I was the only girl living in the townhome at the time. Maybe a couple of months later I was sitting in my dad's computer chair playing Bratz or something on his desktop. It was something I always would do if I wasn't playing outside with the neighborhood girls. I was really digging the game I was playing when I felt this cold rush of air on my neck and a loud gasping noise. I freaked out and ran downstairs to my dad, almost in tears. My dad let this woman and her two daughters move into the townhome.

I moved my bed into the master's closet while the two girls stayed in the master bedroom, which used to be my dad's room. I was really shy and had issues with privacy when I was 10, mostly because I grew up with my dad instead of my mother. Every night I stayed in that closet, it creeped me out. I almost felt like I was being watched, and sometimes I would even jokingly talk to the ghost girl when I was trying to make myself comfortable in

there. It never really worked and one of the girls even cried once when we were playing hide and seek in there because she thought she saw a face in the corner. I never even told her about the ghost girl but I don't really believe her at the same time. Maybe a year passes with some minor things and my dad, my brothers and I moved into the other apartment. This time it's a two bedroom and one bath, all on the second floor of the two apartment duplex. Since I was the only girl, I got the small second bedroom that was by the living room, while my dad and brothers shared the master bedroom down the hall. I had these porcelain dolls from the previous home that I really loved.

I had them sitting on top of my TV right next to my radio. I needed to sleep with music on when I was 11 as it would help me relax better and soon drift off to sleep. Even to this day I need to listen to something in order to sleep and that's why I listen to these podcasts. But anyway, every night my routine was to turn my radio on, say goodnight to the dolls, and then shut my light off One night I turned the radio on and jumped into my bed My light switch was a pull string, so I tied a long string on the end so I could turn my light off from my bed I was just about to pull the string when my radio just stops playing music The button was still pushed in, meaning it was on,

and this was a station that never had any issues with frequencies before. I looked over to the dolls next to it and awkwardly said goodnight to them. Immediately after, the radio turned back on. A little freaked out and paranoid, I just tried to sleep. Cue another year of more hearing things and feeling watched we moved into another place. This time it was a house. Two bedrooms upstairs, mine and my dad's elderly friend. The bathroom right next to our rooms. I was getting ready for school one morning which was maybe around 5.30am. It was my normal morning shindig and I was just about to get dressed when out of nowhere

I heard this girl's voice say hello to me in a loud and very clear tone. This time I know I didn't imagine it and I ran so fast to the bathroom that I just froze and sat in there for a while. Before the voice I do remember feeling like I was being watched and even after I went back to my room, it just constantly felt like someone was staring at me. I always was so scared to be alone, always feeling like someone was there. Maybe I did just imagine all of these, but it's just too weird not to think about sometimes. Nothing new has happened ever since that morning other than the casual not liking to be alone, seeing some other minor shadows here and there and even having the most vivid dreams

about some ghosts in my room. There was a time where I had a friend sleeping over and we were taking photos before going to sleep. She thought she saw a shadow leaning over the edge of my bed near our feet. She didn't tell me until the next morning, so I didn't really know at the moment it happened. So about March of last year I had a very strange and kind of creepy encounter while I was sleeping. It was a school night and I had gone to bed like usual. Also, I had extremely bad sleep paralysis and would often wake up to figures a lot at night to the point of having to alert my parents.

I went to bed that night like usual. In the middle of the night, however, I was awoken, but it was something so different from what usually occurred. The way I remember it, the lights were miraculously on but that is the least worrying part. I awoke to what appeared to be a wounded soldier about late 20s to early 30s climb into my bed beside me. Now let's also put into account I was a 14 year old girl at the time.

I wasn't thrown off or scared by this however. I looked at him as he wheezed in pain and I calmly asked him if he needed water. He didn't respond but I took that as a yes and got up. I remember so vividly that when I got out of bed I delicately closed the door so nobody would bother him. I went upstairs and grabbed him a bottle of water out of the fridge and headed downstairs. I got back in the room and he was gone. But again, I wasn't thrown off. I just put the water on my nightstand, climbed back into bed and went to sleep. I've never seen him again, but ever since that day my sleep paralysis has completely stopped and I've slept soundly ever since. Looking back on it now it gives me chills and questions about if it was all a dream or some real angelic paranormal experience. I may never know, but let me start by saying that I've

always been interested in things that can't be explained by science or logic, whether it's ghosts, poltergeists, aliens, or whatever. I definitely see myself as a skeptic, but still I find this subject fascinating. I love watching ghost sighting videos or those top 10 scary thing compilations. Me and my girlfriend have been living together for almost 6 years in this one house, although we are planning on giving our tenancy notice in next month. As a couple we've experienced a lot of ups and downs while living there Loss of family members, my granddad being the most recent last September Bouts of depression and anxiety from both of us and lethargy mainly from myself during the last three years

We are usually happy bubbly people but for a long time now we've both been fed up and generally a bit down in the dumps And for a long time we've been so desperate to get out of this house because it just seems to be draining us. Whether that's because of a sort of cabin fever, being a small house, or something else we don't know. There's a bit of background on us and now for the parts you're here for. About six months ago we were watching YouTube in bed. My girlfriend falls asleep first. She can literally fall asleep mid-conversation which I find strange but hey. I got up to use the bathroom then got into bed and fell asleep. I woke up suddenly at an unknown

time freezing cold with my girlfriend having claimed the covers. I was facing away from her pulling the sheets back over to my side, and she was pulling them back to her side. At first it was like subconsciously half asleep sort of thing, but then she dragged the covers so hard that it knocked my fist into my own nose, making my eyes water. At the same time I heard a deep voice say, Get off! really quickly. That was not my girlfriend's voice. So I immediately flip over to see what her problem was. Nobody was there, not even my girlfriend. My heart nearly exploded and my stomach dropped. I was frozen in fear for what felt like hours. I knew this was real. I was awake and fully aware of what was going on. My girlfriend came into the room a minute or two later with a coffee and then started to do her makeup routine for work so this must have been around 5-6am and I just lay there and somehow managed to fall back asleep.

The next day I felt fine, almost like it never happened but my nose was killing me so I know it did. I found the contrast of feeling intense fear a few hours earlier and then extreme calm upon waking quite strange considering what had happened. Nothing was mentioned to my girlfriend. A few strange things have happened between then and this incident but I'll just tell you this for now as it's one that I really can't shake. Three days ago I was sleeping and was again woken up but this time my girlfriend's face was less than an inch away from mine and she looked angry. In fact she looked demented, wide eyed, shaking and almost snarling. I very nearly soiled myself and jumped out of my skin and shouted, What are you doing?

She slowly moved away from me but never took her eyes off me. She climbed out of the bed, walked around the bed and headed out of the room, all while staring at me with the most disturbing, angry, wide-eyed, scary face. Just as she was leaving the room, her face slowly started to pull a sickening grin, as if she had accomplished what she set out to do and slammed the door so hard that it shook the house. I didn't dare go after her, no chance. I felt sick to my stomach and I've never been so scared in my life. That was not my girlfriend. She came back in minutes later perfectly normal and asked if I was okay. I couldn't speak to her so I went

downstairs and just smoked like a chimney until I could get ready for work. Again, nothing has been mentioned to her. The second event here was by far the scariest despite the first one involving invisible forces and voices. It was just so disturbing. Her face was so contorted it didn't look like her. Truly it was horrible and I even feel sick writing this now. For a little background, the events of this story took place when I was 21 years old. I'm a male and have always been somewhat awkward. I was never in the popular crowd and never really found my click in high school. I've also always been pretty bad at talking to girls and or asking them out. It's not that I'm really overly nervous, I just never really know the right thing to say or carry on the conversation.

I have a twin sister who is the exact opposite. She was always popular, had a ton of friends and was usually in a steady relationship. She was a bit of a social butterfly and we used to joke around about how different we were from one another. It never really bothered me and in fact some of my fondest memories of my childhood was goofing around and poking fun at each other with my sister. Fast forward to when I was 21, right around Valentine's Day. I'm not sure if it was the constant cold weather or the fact that my sister was hanging out with her boyfriend, but I was feeling especially lonely. I asked my sister if she would help me set up a dating profile on one of the thousand dating websites that are out there.

We went through all of the criteria and gave it a few days to see if I got any responses. I received a few messages but the conversations fizzled after a few exchanges back and forth. The day before Valentine's Day I received a message from a girl who was extremely attractive and who wouldn't give me the time of day in high school. Her name was Gwen, which I very much liked because it reminded me of Gwen Stacy from the Spider-Man comics. She made talking very easy, which was awesome because I was never good at steering conversations. She laughed at my dry sense of humor and always kept the conversation going. Thinking she was possibly not who she said she was or perhaps a catfish, I asked her to video chat with me and she complied. I was shocked when it was really her, I mean, I couldn't believe it. We talked about a lot of things, the things you ask

someone when you're getting to know them and clearly interested in. She eventually told me that I was one of the nicest people she had ever spoken to and that I was different than the other guys she had talked to or been with in the past. We eventually set up a plan for a date and to meet in person. When the day came I picked her up but not from her house. She said she had to work and I could pick her up downtown. I didn't think anything of it so it didn't set off any red flags. We had a few drinks and then went to dinner. We had plans to go to the movies after dinner but as I was paying the checks she said, let's go on an adventure. Confused what she meant by that I

asked her to clarify. She said in the bubbly voice I grew so accustomed and comfortable with, let's go to Blue Lakes. They have the trails there and the moonlight will be on the lake. It'll be so romantic and way better than any movie. Nervous, but excited, I said, of course. But in my own mind, I liked the idea of the movies because I didn't have to worry about what to say and carry on a conversation. We drove to Blue Lakes, which is the name of this beautiful park in my hometown. It's not actually called Blue Lakes, but because the lake has a deep blue color, everybody in town calls it Blue Lakes.

We got there at about 10pm and was starting to get nervous and felt like I was somehow going to mess things up. I texted my sister and told her where I was and asked her to give me some kind of advice on what to do or what to say. She didn't respond right away. Thanks sis. There was a couple of cars in the parking lot which was weird for the time of night but I was trying to have fun. She said, oh don't be nervous about the cars, it's probably just some couples still celebrating Valentine's Day.

She grabbed my hand and started walking toward one of the trails. She could have said anything at this point and I would have went along with her. She let go of my hand and walked on the trail beside the lake. She said very loudly, Wow, look how beautiful this place is. I thought it was kind of weird how loud she said it, but again, I didn't really care. While she was staring at the water, I checked my phone to see if my sister texted me back, and she did. It just said, get out of there now.

Thoroughly freaked out and truly not sure why, I looked up from my phone at Gwen, who was standing right there with a smile on her face. What's wrong, Andrew? She said in a soft voice. I tried but I couldn't answer. I had a hundred things running through my head right now. She said in a flirtatious voice, don't you want to kiss me, Andrew? I finally had the courage to respond and said, I need to leave. Gwen laughed at me and said, Don't be shy, Andrew. We just got here. I turned around and tried to walk out of the trail and there were two guys standing there. I was frozen in fear, not sure why they weren't moving out of the way.

Gwen came up behind me and whispered in my ear, Andrew, we're not leaving yet. My friends just got here. I tried to run but two more guys ran from the other side and tackled me. I'm a pretty big guy but I couldn't hold my own against four guys. They held me down, taking turns punching and kicking me. It hurt but the adrenaline from being scared kept me from being in intense pain. They tied me to a tree, stole my wallet, took my car keys and hit me a couple more times before leaving. Gwen took my phone and threw it in the lake. Within minutes of being there tied to the tree I saw flashing lights turn into the park. I screamed for help and the police found me tied to the tree. They helped me down and began questioning me when my sister arrived.

Apparently as soon as I texted her she had called the cops and rushed over herself. She was at a party and a group of guys were there saying that they were going to jump some loser at blue lakes they had an entire plan to rob him and beat him up and leave him there my sister exclaimed to them that they were lame and jerks and walked away not really thinking about it until a couple of hours later when i texted her not taking any chances she called the police they were able to find one of the four guys but the other three they couldn't find and they also couldn't find this Gwen. All of her information online was fake so they couldn't track her. My car had some minor damage and looked to have been

used for drug usage. I only had minor injuries including a concussion, a badly scraped arm and some soreness from where I had been kicked. The thing that still haunts me and bothers me to this day is the motivation for this event. Was it really worth all the effort to beat a broke college kid for his wallet and his car? I had maybe a couple of hundred bucks on me and I cancelled my credit card immediately. It just seemed like a lot of time for a small payoff. Four years later I still have nightmares of that night. Even though the incident could have been worse

I still have mental scars from getting attacked by a group of strangers. I'm thankful one of them did eventually come to justice but there was a strong honor amongst these thieves because the authorities were never able to gather any further information out of him, and all the other individuals had sort of disappeared into obscurity. I have since found an amazing girlfriend and no longer live in my hometown. Hopefully since this story happened, dating websites have made an effort to authenticate their users, so things like this don't happen again.

I have never been a huge fan of Valentine's Day. I have always found the holiday to be kind of a drag and a waste, kind of like New Year's Eve. At the time of the story I was 20 years old. I worked at a small convenience store that was open 24 hours. I told them that I would work the overnight shift on Valentine's Day because I didn't have any plans. Night started out just like any other night shifts I had worked in the past. Very slow and boring so I was able to get most of the work done by about midnight. I usually spent the remainder of the shift just watching YouTube or Netflix. At about 1.30am the bell rang alerting me that someone had

entered the store. He was a tall, somewhat handsome man from what I could tell at a quick glance. I shouted, How are you tonight sir? And he responded almost immediately, Cassie, is that you? I paused for a moment in disbelief that he recognized me, and then that's when it hit me. It was a guy named Ricky that I went to high school with. We were never really close, but always very friendly. I immediately greeted him with a hug because that's just my personality. After a minute or two of catching up I finally asked, what are you doing in here so late? He frowned slightly and said, well I just

broke up with my girlfriend about a week ago and honestly I've been a bit of an insomniac lately and just wandering around. I said I was sorry about the breakup and asked if he needed anything and he responded in a very genuine voice. Honestly it's just really great to see an old friend and if you wouldn't mind if you're not too busy I would love to just sit and talk for a while. I actually thought it was kind of sweet and felt bad so I told him he could hang and we could just talk and catch up. The first 10 to 15 minutes were normal, even enjoyable. We laughed and joked about some old high school memories. After about 15 minutes he asked to use the restroom and of course I let him. This was when I started to think things

through a little bit. This random guy showed up in the middle of the night and just happened to immediately recognize me and strike up a conversation with me. I was sure it was just a coincidence but it did seem a little bit weird. While he was in the bathroom for a minute I decided to search him on Facebook and notice he had some mutual friends. The first thing I noticed was that he had some weird photos. Pictures of him with knives and lots of symbology stuff that almost look like witchcraft or something. I don't know, I'm not much of a horror buff but one of the pictures definitely had a pentagram in it. He came out of the bathroom a few moments later and this is when things started getting really strange.

I threw my phone back down and greeted him as if everything were normal. He said in a low, almost disturbing voice, I'm so happy to see you again. I responded in a confused manner, Ah, yeah, it's great seeing you too. He slammed both hands on the counter that I sat behind and said in a now aggressive voice, You don't understand. I'm so happy I found you.

I love you, Cassie. And we were meant to be together. Going from semi-creeped out to full-on terrified, I just responded nervously not knowing what else to say. I said, Uh, thanks Ricky, but I'm seeing someone. That of course was a lie but I honestly didn't know what else to do.

At this point he tried to grab my arm from the other side of the counter and I jumped back quickly and told him he needed to leave. He took a step away from the counter and looked at me with almost lifeless eyes and a smile that left my body paralyzed. He dropped his coat to the ground and took his shirt off. He was covered with tattoos, really creepy tattoos. Across his chest was the word animal in a crazy font. The rest of his torso was covered with strange symbols. I'm not sure actually what kind of symbols. Under his left pec was my name tattooed. It literally said Cassie in cursive. He then pulled the knife out of his pocket and pointed to the tattoo of

my name while he continued his sinister smile and gaze. I know it's easy to say what you would do in this situation but I was frozen. I felt lightheaded like I was in a dream and couldn't wake up. I was scared if I made a move he would lunge at me or try to grab me again. He started to scream my name loudly. Cassie! Cassie! I started to cry. I couldn't even catch my breath and that's when it happened. The bell from the door rang. It was a big man walking into the store. Ricky didn't even flinch. He kept his gaze fixed on me and was slowly approaching me. Once the man saw what was happening and saw me cowering in fear, he ran over and pushed Ricky down. Ricky got up and ignored the man completely and still kept his

crazy gaze on me. I picked up my phone to call the police and that's when Ricky finally ran and tried to jump the counter and the man took him down again, this time holding him down until the authorities showed up. Ricky was arrested with a blank stare across his face. That man who saved me just happened to be a passing truck driver wanting to grab a hot cup of coffee. I feel like I owe him my life. I have no idea what Ricky planned on doing, but he was charged and they used video footage from the store to help with the conviction. I'm so thankful for that truck driver and I will never forget that evil, dead look in Ricky's eyes as he lunged for me. And what was that tattoo? Was it really my name? Or for someone else named Cassie? I don't work overnights anymore and I actually move far away

from this town. I'm not sure if Ricky ever got help or is still in jail. I have no idea when or where this obsession he developed for me began. And honestly, I don't care. I just hope we never meet again. Valentine's Day is a time for love and showing emotion and gratitude to that very special person in your life. Four years ago, my girlfriend and I decided to go out for Valentine's Day. Where we live, it is still fairly warm in February, so I decided to take my girlfriend on a picnic that we had been planning for about a week or so. My girlfriend and I love being outdoors, and I figured after the picnic, perhaps we could walk on a trail or perhaps take a quick hike. About a month ago, while I was hiking, I found this amazing spot where I thought we could have the picnic. From one of the main trails it only took about 15 minutes to walk there and it wasn't that

hard of a walk either. You did have to go off of one of the main trails, around a semi narrow bend and leading to a small rock formation. The area overlooked our home. It was a beautiful view and enough flatland where we could sit and have a really nice picnic. I set up an entire area for us, chairs, tables and a bunch of our favorite snack foods. On the rear side of this spot was more woods and even in the daylight there were so many trees back there that it seemed dark. So when Valentine's Day finally came we set off

for our adventure. Thankfully it was a beautiful sunny day. It was warm with a nice breeze and not a cloud in the sky. We held hands on the trail until we got to the spot where I went off the trail. I told her to trust me as we went off the path. She was hesitant but was down for the journey. Just as I expected the short trip was easy for her. We reached the spot in no time and she was blown away. She just stopped and stared out at the horizon in awe. When she saw the spread of food I had she was even more blown away. Today could not have gone any better and in almost a blink of an eye that changed. While we were laughing and staring at the beautiful view, she stopped suddenly. I asked her what was wrong, and she said that she had heard something in the

woods. I looked behind in the dark trees, but saw nothing. I told her she was crazy, just kidding around obviously, and tried to go back to flirting with her, but she wasn't having it. She insisted that I checked out the woods. So annoyed more than anything I told her I would. I got right up to where the tree line started and I peeked through some endless amounts of trees. I saw nothing. If I'm being honest I had a really hard time making out anything in there but I truly didn't see anything. She approached after a minute or two and said in a

terrified voice, right there you don't see that shape it looks like a person. I squinted and tried to make out the shape it just looked like a shadow to me. Babe I think that's just a shadow. I responded in an almost condescending voice. She was hysterical and asked me to please look at it. So I stepped into the dark forest and to my absolute fear, the dark figure moved. It was very slight, almost like a shoulder shrug, but I saw it. At this moment I felt intense anxiety and fear, but I didn't want to freak out my girlfriend or even worse alert this potentially dangerous person that I knew that they were there. After only a couple of steps I told my girlfriend I needed something and I turned back to where we were sitting. I grabbed my girlfriend and tried to tell her not to freak out but that I did in

fact see a person in the trees. She was crying hysterically and I was just trying to think of the best way to get out fast. I looked down over the lookout but it was just too steep. The only way was the way we came which was fine but I just didn't want this lunatic to follow us. I decided to leave all the stuff behind and start walking down the rock formation. She went down first as I stared into the trees and that's and start walking down the rock formation. She went down first as I stared into the trees and that's when I saw it clear as day. This shadow figure was definitely a man and he was approaching us now. He was only about 45 or 50 feet away.

I couldn't make out any specific details but it looked like he had a beard. I finally started going down the rock formation and I told my girl to run as fast as she could. We made it to the trail quickly. As we stopped to catch our breath we heard the rustling of trees and the crack of sticks. This man was chasing us. She pulled out her phone to call the police but apparently she didn't have a signal. Of course. We finally reached the parking lot of the park trails and there were two police cars. The police were already looking for someone. Apparently there was a woman jogging the trails early in the morning and found a man laying off to the side of one of the trails. She called the authorities right away and the man reported being

mugged and robbed. We told the cops everything but by the time they got into the woods they couldn't find the man. From what I understand they never caught this crazy person in the woods and I'm not sure what he would have done if he actually caught up to us. I still can't believe my girlfriend spotted him from so far away and I'm so thankful she did. We both have a really hard time going on nature trails now and I still have yet to return to that specific park. From now on, we decided it was best just to stay me last year on Valentine's Day. I recently bought a house with my soon-to-be husband.

He works really hard and always spoils me when he can. While he was at work, I decided to run down to the local store and buy some stuff to make him a romantic dinner. The store is literally 100 yards away from my house at most so I quickly left around 1pm and did not lock my door. I live in a really safe area with hardly any crime and the police station right around the block. I was going to be back in less than 10 minutes so I didn't think it was a big deal to lock my door. I left and came back in just under 15 minutes. I waited in line longer than I thought. The rest of my afternoon was normal.

I prepared dinner and got the table set with candles and everything along those lines. My afternoon was fairly normal and just like any other day. At about 4.30pm I went to the bathroom and thought I could smell a funny smell, almost like cologne. My boyfriend didn't wear cologne but I didn't think too much about it. Maybe it was my body wash from the shower or something along those lines. A little after 7 my boyfriend came home from work. He greeted me with Valentine's Day flowers and an amazing piece of cheesecake that I would be having for dessert. I was thrilled. He was also so thankful for the dinner I had prepared for him and we had a lovely evening.

After we ate he said he was going to go wash up and meet me on the couch for a movie and some cheesecake. As he walked upstairs where our bathroom was he stopped talking mid sentence and said in a voice that still haunts me, what's that smell? I came to the bottom of the stairs and asked if he smelled the cologne too. He did and immediately mouthed the words call 911 to me. I went into the other room and called. I tried to whisper as to not alert the potential intruder. What my boyfriend didn't tell me until later was that he saw muddy footprints on the bathroom floor and the shower curtain was open with two wet dirty footprints inside. Next to the bathroom is a spare room that we don't use and the door was shut, and that door is never shut. He grabbed

the door slowly and tried to turn the handle, but it was being held from the other side. He kicked open the door, and to the horror of both of us was a small, dirty looking man. He was dressed in all black with brown work boots. My boyfriend, who is only an average build, slammed him down with ease and pushed him against the wall. After only a few moments the police showed up and quickly ran upstairs. Luckily nobody was hurt and the intentions of this intruder were unknown. I was alone all afternoon with him and he did nothing. I couldn't sleep well that night. I remembered that it was all my fault.

I always locked the door, and this one time I decided not to. I began to freak out that the man was in the shower right next to me when I was going to the bathroom. I'm just thankful my boyfriend didn't get hurt, and the police station is literally right around the block. This year he took off Valentine's Day with me and we're still trying to cope with the experience. The worst part is we still never got answers. We don't know why this man broke in and I'm not sure we ever will. So the events of this story happened to me two years ago on Valentine's Day. It was the first Valentine's Day I had celebrated with my now fiancee Dee. We decided it would be nice to go on a double date with a mutual couple we both knew. The evening was nice and relaxing. We went to their house

for a lovely dinner and some games. None of us really were the type that like going out drinking or partying so this was an ideal night for us. After a couple of hours we decided we were going to go home for the night and watch some movies in front of our electric fireplace. Now, the couple whose house we went to didn't really live too far away, but they did kind of live in the middle of nowhere. We live in a decent-sized town, but once you reach the outskirts of town, it's a lot of cornfields, farms, and huge open fields. So even though it was only about a ten- minute drive, it feels like you're in the middle of nowhere. When you leave our friend's house you travel down a long road with no lights for about a mile or so, then take a left and travel down another even longer road in the pitch

black until eventually you reach the outskirts of town. Well, about halfway down the road we saw these flashing lights shining through the seemingly endless row of trees and until we finally saw it. After we passed all the trees we pulled over on the side of the road and there hovering over the field was a massive craft of some kind. I'm not real good with measurements but I would say about the size of a plane, but a very strange shape. It was long and kind of flat with a pointed edge. It was clearly hovering over the field, high enough that it was well above us but not moving. There was lights all over the craft and many of them were flashing in an erratic pattern. My then girlfriend and I sat in amazement and admittedly fear at this huge craft and the most peculiar thing was that it was quiet. You couldn't hear any noise whatsoever coming from the craft.

As I took out my phone to try and record this all the lights went off on the craft. I tried to snap a picture at this point but it was just too dark and the picture just looks black. The craft then started to make a very loud humming noise and even though we could barely see it, it started to slowly approach the road where we were parked. At this point, scared and nervous, we decided to drive away. When we got to the end of the road we saw the lights again poking through the trees. Once we got home we tried calling our friends several times but they didn't answer. Finally about an hour later she called back and said she was sorry and didn't even hear her phone ring which we found strange because her phone was always on high. We told her about the events and she seemed very skeptical. She said living over there her entire life she has never seen or heard anything like that ever.

We talked about the event for a while and eventually said goodbye and enjoyed the rest of Valentine's Day and really had a great rest of the evening. Shortly after that night we found out that several people in the area had experienced seeing strange things like that. Apparently there is a military base nearby and some believe that they are testing some kind of new military equipment. Others think it's something perhaps extraterrestrial. I'm not sure what I saw that evening, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt I saw something big and very close to me. Something that I am unable to explain. Has anyone ever seen this craft I speak of?

I'm just looking for answers. The last two years on Valentine's Day we have gone back at the same time to see if we see anything and we've seen nothing since that night. Though this was strange and terrifying, it has given us a Valentine's Day tradition, and an event that we will never forget. The contents of this story have caused me to recently move back with my parents who live in another state. Last year I was enjoying my first year of being a college grad and living in my own house. Well, a house I rented, but I still lived alone. I was focused on my job and wasn't really looking for a boyfriend or anything like that.

Every morning I go down to the park, which is only about about a two minute walk and I jog before getting ready for work. On Valentine's Day my routine was no different. As I was finishing my jog I was approached by a pretty handsome looking man. He was tall, looked in shape, styled hair and super white teeth. My creep alarm was not going off at all. He said in a calming voice, you're very pretty. I just thought I wanted to tell you that and hope you have a wonderful Valentine's Day. And then he just jogged off. Honestly, it kind of made me smile because that kind of stuff doesn't usually happen to me. After all that excitement I just continued on with my day like I would any other day. At about 1pm the secretary at my job told me I had a package. I thought this was very strange considering I had never gotten packages before. It was a huge, beautiful bouquet of roses.

There was a note on the roses that said, To the lovely lady I saw at the park, I hope this makes you smile. Now it did make me smile which is stupid but I admittedly realized how weird and creepy it was. That night I was cooking dinner and was going to do some work from my home computer. I thought I could hear a noise outside my window but I just chalked it up to the wind or something. I got up a little after 8 to clean some dishes and take a break from the computer. I looked out my kitchen sink window and saw a car outside my house parked in the street. Now I had no other reason to be freaked out other than just a bad feeling. There was no parking on my street after 7pm and I had never seen this car before. Now again, there could

have been dozens of explanations but I just didn't feel good about the entire situation. It just felt really off. I sat back down at the computer trying to focus on my work but I had this sickening feeling in my stomach. As I sat there in dead silence in my room is when I was sure I could hear something. I had a window that sat right next to my computer where I was sitting. I pulled back the curtain and exposed the man from the park trying to break into the window. We locked eyes and he just stared at me like a deer in headlights. He did not have that same smile as before at the park. He looked mean,

aggressive. After only a couple of seconds of eye contact which seemed like an eternity, he started to bang on the window and screaming let me in. I screamed and ran to the other room calling the police. He must have heard me because I saw out of the kitchen window him run to the car in front of my house. I couldn't make out the license. All I knew is that it was a white Chevy of some kind which describes about a billion people. I never forgot the look in his eyes. Almost immediately I moved home. I never stayed in that house again. I was advised to stay at a hotel for a couple of nights and then I drove home to my parents. I'll never forget that almost evil look he had as we locked eyes through the window no

more than inches apart. They never found the man I described and many people think I made this story up, but I'll never forget the horror of that Valentine's Day. narrations. And sometimes you have to click it again later because it just goes away for some reason. I don't really know why. Now, if you got a story, be sure to submit them to my subreddits or Let's Read Official and give and receive feedback from the community and maybe even hear your story featured on the next video. And join my Discord to interact with me and other listeners directly. And if you want to support me and this channel even more, grab early access to all future narrations for just $1 a month on Patreon, and maybe even pick up some Let's Read merch on

Spreadshirt. All links in the bio. Thanks so much, friends, and have a very happy and safe Valentine's Day.