The Lets Read Podcast - 38: Episode 036 | 911 Ghost Calls & Maid Stories | 25 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: June 24, 2019

Welcome to the thirty sixth 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 911 Ghosts Call, Maid/Cleaner & Best Friend Stories.  HAVE A STORY TO SUBMIT?► www.Reddit.com/r/LetsReadOfficial FOLLOW ME ON- ► Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsread.official/ ► Twitter - https://twitter.com/LetsReadCreepy ►YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/c/letsreadofficial ♫ Background Music: Iron Cthulhu Apocalypse https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFvrqVSJE8E PATREON for EARLY ACCESS!►http://patreon.com/LetsRead 

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I'm a sheriff's deputy in a fairly busy county, so we see and hear strange things all of the time, but this gives me the chills. There's an abandoned house in a rural area of the county that sits a good ways back into the woods. Every so often our dispatch will receive a 911 call from a landline at the residence with nothing but white noise. The dispatchers ask if anyone is there but they never get an answer. Since it's an open 911 call and we know the address, we have to respond and every time we do, there is no one there. The oddest thing is there is no electricity or any signs of wiring going to the house. Every deputy that's been there gets a feeling of dread just being on the property. I'm not sure of the history of the house house so I don't know what

could be there. Any thoughts on what it could be? I'm working in the zone of this house tonight so I'll try and go by and snap a photo of the house if I can. Update. On the way to the property I found a vehicle driving on the wrong side of the road so I'm at the jail finishing paperwork on the DWI. I will post the pictures as soon as I can. At the least it will be about 0800 Central Time. Update with photos and verification. The house. Verifying I'm a cop Verifying the location

Got the best I could with the lighting Update, part 2 I honestly did not expect to get this much attention Thanks for all of the input and comments To preface this part of this account I consider myself to be pretty rational when it comes to odd situations, but I'm open to the idea of supernatural activity. I post it here because this is one of those cases I felt you all would enjoy on this sub

and see if anyone might have any possible explanations or similar instances. Apparently there are a few stories out there very similar to mine. Not in it for the karma, just an interesting story I wanted to share. This was my first time walking up to the place so it was definitely an experience. The trail is gated off so I had to walk it. It's about 200 yards back into the woods through very dense brush and trees. There was nearly zero lum on the trail and I really had to watch my step even with my flashlight. I jumped a deer on the way up and it scared the life out of me. Once I turned the corner at the

end of the trail and saw the house, my heart started racing and I honestly felt like something was there with me. I started messing with my flashlight, phone and notepad trying to get a good photo of the verification with the house when I felt that I needed to leave. It wasn't a feeling of I shouldn't be here but more of a you need to get out of Dodge now. Having been in very stressful situations in the past I have learned to trust that feeling. I got the best photos I could and sped walk back down the trail towards my car. I'm almost embarrassed to say that I legitimately felt something was following me. I made it back to the car and sat with my spotlight pointed at the trail head waiting to see if something would come out of the woods. Fortunately nothing did. I sat for a minute and caught my breath while I

reviewed the photos hoping what I got was sufficient because I did not want to go back. I'm about to go off duty so this is it for today. I'm really interested in what happened at this place and I plan to do some research tomorrow. Sunday nights are usually extremely slow for us. November 25th, 2018, 7.05pm Central Time. Update. I was able to obtain a few recordings of the calls from the house. Here's the SoundCloud playlist. Started an account just for you guys.

Call 1. The short clip with white noise. Call 2. It's a long clip with white noise. The dispatcher I got it from said you can hear the dispatcher saying hello, but I wasn't able to hear it. 911 call 3. The female dispatcher saying 911 with white noise.

911 call 4. Male dispatcher saying 911 with more just white noise. Update November 26, 2018. 2.35 a.m. Central. I've been doing some research between calls tonight and I have some history on the property. The house was built in 1890 and the first deed on file was registered in 1901. The property has since been in possession of the same family that owns it today. From what I could find, the current owners of the property live out of state now but

had previously lived either in the house or on the property some years back. The area it's in was a boomtown during the late 1800s, but fizzled out shortly afterwards due to lack of profits from the mines. Other than that, I haven't found anything that makes the property stand out. On a more speculative note, the house sits close to an area where a Native American tribe was known to reside. I will dig deeper into the history of the property and the family and see what I can find. Thanks again for all the comments and advice, it really is appreciated. Update November 27th, 2018, 7.36pm Central. Sorry for the lack of updates.

I've been spending time with the family the past couple of days and I haven't gotten much done. I have the name of the person who has the deed to the property but contacting them has been a bit of a task. I plan to go back to the house tomorrow during the day so more photos will follow. December 7th, 2018 at 7.55pm. So sorry for the long wait but from the last time that I posted an update till today I've been debating on whether or not to go back to the house. I've been in contact with a medium who I located in the comments on the original post as well as a few private messages. Her input on the whole situation was both enlightening and honestly a little unnerving for someone like me who is not accustomed to such things. She told me she was in communication with an older man, a farmer who

resided in the house in the 50s and remains to this day in spirit form. She told me that he does not wish to move on from the house because he likes the seclusion. The reason for the 911 calls was unknown to her but said the farmer wanted them to stop so we could leave him in peace. She told me that he made people feel unwelcome at the house for the sole purpose of deterring any trespassers but would allow me a short visit on the condition that I bring a pack of cigarettes for him. However she warned me not to overstay my welcome. More than a little skeptical I considered the input but was convinced of the communication and a follow-up message I got from her. She described the counter next to the door and

told me that is where he wanted the cigarettes left. She also brought up an old convenience store several miles from the house. Without knowledge of the area or the house there would be no way of knowing these details. After discussing the matter with my wife and a few close friends I put the investigation on hold to kind of get my bearings about the whole ordeal. Today I finally decided to return. I got up earlier than usual and got dressed for work. I got in my patrol car and drove 30 minutes out to where the convenience store was. I went in and purchased a pack for regular Newports and drove to where the trail to the house begins. Being daytime this time around, I felt a little more secure but still had the nervousness about me considering the situation.

I stopped a short way down the trail and addressed the farmer. I introduced myself and asked for permission to come onto his land for a short while and added that I brought a pack of cigarettes as a show of good faith. I stood for a second and listened, half expecting a verbal response. I did not hear a voice but the tension that I had felt prior to addressing the man seemed to dissipate. I continued to the house and gave it a good once over and it did not look any different from when I had last left it. I took several photos of the front of the house and walked towards the open door. I addressed the farmer again and told him I was going to place the cigarettes where he

had asked and said I was going to take a few pictures. As you can probably tell from the photos the interior of the house was a little more than just spooky. I placed the cigarettes on the counter and walked into the kitchen area where I noticed something in the corner. I shined my light and saw a very old photograph of a woman sitting on the shelf by itself. The rest of the house was mostly empty so it seemed like the photo was deliberately placed and left on the shelf. On the kitchen floor I found an old phone laying in a pile of trash. I chuckled a little at the irony of it then began looking for any connections. The ones that I found had been severed but that's not to

say there aren't any underground lines that could be causing the issue. When I rounded the corner I saw the stairs leading up to the second floor. No way was the first thing that crossed my mind and I moved on to the living room I had been in the house for close to 10 minutes at this point and I started to feel the tension I had felt before returning I walked through the living room through a passageway that led behind the stairs As I turned the corner towards the back room I heard three loud and distinct footsteps directly above my head As if someone was on the second floor landing of the stairs. Either I had overstayed my welcome or there was something in the back

room I was not supposed to see, but I was not about to stick around to find out. I quickly exited the house and began walking down the trail towards my car. As I was leaving, I began to take a photo of the second story window in hopes of catching something. I took the picture and walked back to my unit and realized I did not feel the presence behind me as I did the first time. When I got to the end of the road there was a car parked beside my unit with a lady in the driver's seat. When she saw me I waved and she got out of the car to meet me. She was a resident of the area and wanted to make sure everything was okay. I told her I was just checking the property as an extra patrol due to the 911 calls we had received.

I didn't think my supervisors would appreciate me telling a citizen that I was ghost hunting, even though I was not on the clock. When asked if she knew anything about the property she said she only knew the owners live out of state and that no one is ever there. She did tell me that she had been in the house before and began talking about the cellar in the back room of the house behind the stairs. Given what had just happened this piqued my interest. She said the rumor around the community is that there is a bear that lives in the cellar due to loud noises coming from inside, but no one knew for certain. I thanked her for her time and went to the office where I started to work on this update.

To answer the question, I know I will get... No, I will not go back to search the cellar. Whether there be a spirit of an old farmer in the house or something else, I am not wanted there and I don't intend to push my luck. The trail on info of the house has went cold and I haven't found any way of contacting the current owners or their family. We haven't received any more calls to the house and frankly, I hope we never get one again. Thanks to those who have stuck with me on this story, I'm happy to answer any questions y'all might have, just don't ask me to go back. Update December 8th, 2018, 3.05pm.

I'm going back. Not out of guilt or a sense of duty, but because y'all have made me realize this is something that I have to do for personal reasons. To clarify, here's a little background on me. My first supernatural experience occurred when I was 16. I was, as I was told, a demonic possession. I posted the story here a few days ago if you want the full story titled, We Are Rage. This experience gave me both an extreme aversion to the paranormal and a keen curiosity. I've always been one to take interest in things that frighten me. I've been involved in some pretty hairy situations over the past five years in the line of duty, and more than a few of those, my chances for survival were objectively very slim.

I've seen stuff that would put snuff films to shame, but all in all, these things are normal for first responders, and we do the job because we know we can deal with the stuff and carry on about our lives. All that being said, for some reason this situation is stripping me of my years of dealing with fear and putting me back in my 16-year-old self in Central America, watching a man be tortured by a supernatural being. This is something I have to confront if I want closure on this thing. Do I believe there's some sort of Scooby-Doo-esque cover-up for a horrible crime? Very unlikely, but as you guys said, it's my duty to check it out.

So I'm going back, and y'all better believe if I get the revenant treatment from a bear in that house, I'm going to haunt you all. Update December 12th, 2018, 5.20pm. I apologize for this post being down so long. I'm not sure what the issue is. I felt I needed to repost this due to it being down for several days and a few concerned private messages I received from a few of y'all. Thanks for checking in on me, by the way. I haven't been back to the house yet. I've asked a

close friend of mine, another deputy, to go with me and he's all for it so we will be going back to check out the cellar when we are both available to go. To answer a few more questions I've gotten, no there isn't an active criminal investigation as a result of any of my findings. Yes, my encounter with a supposed demon possession is completely factual and nothing was embellished. I'm not sure if the three steps I heard in the house were indicative of a demonic presence. Thanks for the continued interest in this investigation. I'll post as soon as I have more to tell. I went back by myself to close this thing once and for all. The trip to the trail, the walk to the house, and the investigation inside the house happened without anything of note occurring.

The cellar wound up being a shallow root cellar which was empty save for cobwebs and a pile of very old Pepsi cans. No sign of any human trafficking, drug smuggling or any black snake moan type stuff. Just an empty old house with a lot of family and local history. The footsteps didn't return nor did I come across anything supernatural this time. It's as if whatever was there before had went away or at least didn't bother to make itself known while I was there. The cigarettes remained unopened on the shelf next to the door and the phone and photo remained in the same spot as I had left them. I dug a little deeper into the current owner's information and found an email for them. I sent them a message asking about the history of the house under the

guise of a study into the history of the area. It's been a week since I've sent it and no response. I'm sorry that I didn't take any photos of the cellar, but there wasn't really anything there to see. Just a small door in the corner which opened to a somewhat disappointing small storage area. Thank you all for the continued interest into this investigation, the support and input that was given. It really was appreciated. If I encounter anything of a paranormal or unexplained nature in the future, you guys will be the first to know. About a week ago, a dispatcher who had answered multiple calls from the residents did a ride along with me and talked me into taking him to the house. I had read every

post I had made here so he was up to date with the latest spooky stuff going on there. Wanting to see some creepy stuff as he put it we waited till around 3am before going. At first I was going to walk him to the front of the house, take a look then head back. That wasn't enough for him. We walked up to the porch and saw old hymnals laying open on the floor just outside of the front porch, which hadn't been there the last time I was there. Walking into the house, I checked the spot where I had put the pack of cigarettes. They were still there, unopened, covered in dust, and in the exact same place that I had left them. Having someone there with me I started to feel a little brave so I tried to recreate the circumstances when I heard the footsteps upstairs.

I walked under the stairs and into the back room and nada. I showed him the stairs in which I didn't want to go up and wouldn't you know it, we climbed up. There were old newspapers all over the floor. A very old mattress was on the floor which was folded over itself in the master bedroom. It looked like it was covering something. We flipped it over and to our relief there wasn't anything under it. A few seconds after the creepy stuff began. Downstairs we heard a very loud noise. It sounded like someone had a large stick and was dragging it across the wall. I'm not sure how long it lasted but it felt like an unnaturally long time. We looked at each other and I could tell by his expression that we had heard the same thing.

We went back downstairs and looked in each room but found nothing that could have made the sound. We checked around the house thinking there might have been a limb that had fallen. Again, nothing that could have made the sound. Deciding that we had enough paranormal activity for the night, we started walking back down the trail. Just like my first visit, I felt something was following us. Before I could say anything, I saw the dispatcher quickly look behind. He said he felt like someone was behind us. I don't know why I keep going back. I feel like if I keep antagonizing whatever is there, it's going to be a bad day. I know in previous discussions everything from demons to squatters has been proposed, but with everything that's happened up to this point, it's getting harder and harder to 12am shift. The cemetery generally closed at 6pm, so around 5.30 I would lock the main gate,

then would start driving through the cemetery to notify any visitors that we'd be closing soon. I'd instruct them to park in a line in front of the locked main gate and when my drive through the grounds was complete I would unlock the main gate. Everyone would leave and I would lock the gate behind them. So one day I'm in the middle of my final drive through and see an old lady slowly walking the sidewalk alongside a mausoleum. The mausoleum was hundreds of feet long, about 20 feet tall, and had no brakes in it. It was one long stretch. The road ran directly alongside the sidewalk of the mausoleum, so I pulled up behind the lady to tell her we're closing,

got out of my car, take my eyes off of her for a split second as I'm getting out of the car, and when I shut the door and look up, she's gone. Completely vanished. I didn't think anything paranormal at first, I just thought maybe I lost sight of her. But the sidewalk and road were completely empty. I ran all the way around to check the back of the mausoleum, but no one was there. Across from the mausoleum was a whole field of graves, and I eagle-eyed every row. No soul in sight. I finish up my roundup and sit in my car the rest of the night,

in a well-lit area. I saw a fully visible person. I know it. No tricks of light. No hallucination. Plain as day. This encounter seemed to break open the proverbial dam because after this I had numerous unexplainable occurrences. If you guys like to hear any of those, I'd gladly update the post with another few stories. Update with some more of the stories. Number one, normally my then girlfriend, now my wife, would drop by around 8pm and bring me dinner since I couldn't really leave. I never told her my experiences because I didn't want to freak her out. As I'm walking her back to her car to leave, I see her reach back and touch her ponytail then look around with a look on her face. I ask her what's wrong and she says nothing. I must have caught my ponytail caught in a tree branch or I felt something.

So I pointed out to her that the closest tree was 20 feet away and that's impossible. Then she gets really pale and says it felt like someone ran their hand through her hair front to back and then pulled on the ponytail we were both pretty freaked out and she left she never came and never brought me dinner again number two i was originally hired because the cemetery had a period of time where they experienced some grave robbers and people breaking in to perform satanic rituals. I was 21 years old, doing this as a side job with no gun, no weapons or anything like that. I was given a barcode scanner and was told to drive through the entire cemetery every hour or so to patrol and to scan each of the pre-posted barcodes to prove I was actually

doing it. Now this cemetery was massive, pretty much broken into three parts, the newer part, the historic part, and the famous part where celebrities and other famous people were buried. I did this routine once and never did it again, going so far as to break the barcode scanner. So I didn't have to do it. While I was driving, it was pitch black. Coming around a long curved road, my headlights picked up what I could have sworn were a pair of legs walking across the path, only up to the knee. Shoes, pants, knee, then absolutely nothing. I stopped dead in the road and just watched this pair of legs with no body cross the road ten feet in front of me. I put the car in reverse and did what felt like the longest K-turn of my life and got straight back to the parking lot.

Other quick things were lesser experiences of just hearing strange noises and seeing floating lights in the cemetery after I know for sure everyone was gone. Weird animal sounds that I couldn't recognize. I'm a bit busy now but in a few hours I'll post the last story which is one that pretty much convinced me to quit. Update 2. I'll make this the last of it but i could write for hours one the guy who worked the day shift there which was eight a m to four p m was a grimy dude we'll call him bart part of his job was to go around the cemetery and check the graves for personal affects left by family members and remove them many people left things like toys for children who had passed away, birthday cards, mementos, etc. I personally hated this policy and refused to enforce it. Who was I to take a dead child's toy fire engine and throw it away? But Bart had the habit of scouring the cemetery for

things he deemed valuable and would take them home, instead of throwing them away or bringing them to the office to be picked up by the family. In the short time I worked there, Bart's mental state deteriorated. He started spending hours there, even after his shift was over, walking around the cemetery and drinking heavily. He seemed detached and even more out there than when I had first met him. When I didn't see him for a few weeks or so I asked about him and my boss said he just no call no showed and never heard from him again. I often wondered if he developed some type of attachment from bringing so many objects home he shouldn't have. 2. Lastly the experience that led me to quitting. Once Bart stopped showing up, I picked up his Saturday morning shift.

It was a quiet day, so I pulled my car around the back of the old chapel to take a nap. The chapel was surrounded by 12 foot high hedges, so I figured it was a good spot to park for an hour and shut my eyes. I fell asleep and wake up to see my car completely surrounded by dead people. So real, so vivid, so much detail. They were all pressed up against the glass and windshield. They had on the outfits they were buried in, suits, dresses, but all dirty and in different stages of decomposition. No one spoke, No one moved. They all just stared like I was some zoo exhibit.

Then I woke up. I'd been asleep and it was a dream. The thing is, it felt so real. I had never had a dream so real, so vivid before or after. I took it as a message. I called my boss and quit as soon as I left at 4pm. I go back to that cemetery from time to time because I have three grandparents and an aunt buried there. I never linger too long and always make sure I'm out long before it gets dark. October 2018. I was driving home from teaching music lessons one night around 9.45 on the highway. Suddenly this memory comes to me.

Before my family moved to Atlanta I lived in Kennesaw, Georgia. It's really not too far from the city, but far enough to feel suburban. My neighborhood there was really just in the middle of a giant forest, miles between us and the nearest residential development. I was raised by a single mother. Her work schedule was harsh, so she had arranged since kindergarten a babysitting gig with my neighbor whose son Mike was the same age as me. We basically grew up as brothers, me arriving at his house around 7am, going to school together and hanging after school

every day until 7pm. In the summer, with no school, we had eons together. His mom was pretty lax and would let us go do whatever for the whole day. We often spent our days exploring the outer woods of our neighborhood, choosing this direction or that, going as far as we could before we knew it was time to come back. The land was wild, woods and creeks and little waterfalls. Copperheads and water moccasins are biggest fear. We'd come home for Capri Sun refuels covered in mud and Mike's mom would hose us down. So as I'm driving last October, I'm thinking of this house I just taught a lesson at, an upper class family. They had decked their house out with Halloween decorations. I was thinking how strange it is that we do that

And thinking why humans are so connected to the idea of the dead On the highway, really in an instant This memory just pops back Almost like watching a movie Mike and I are 8, 2nd grade Way back in the woods The land had gotten weird, almost marshy I remember packs of moss floating

on slow-moving water. No trail back there, we just walked. We'd found what we thought to be some kind of island in the marsh. Solid land when the rest was muddy and sometimes like a pond. We were sitting on the bank of this island, used to play games where leafs were planets and we'd tear holes in them and pretend they were asteroid impacts or bombs gone off. So we're chilling there and doing that kind of stuff when, all of a sudden, out of the straight brush, this man pops out. The best way I can describe him as Abraham Lincoln style. He's wearing a tux kind of getup, black and white, but the coattail is divided into two skinny tube shapes that drift down to the back of his knees. He wears a top hat like Abe, not super huge, but big enough to give a kind of silly feel. Odd for us to see at least. He is smiling and his presence is super gentle. He walked straight over to us.

The way he came was a dry stretch, not from the wetter side of our little island. I remember seeing him purposely step around mud spots. He stopped right in front of us, just looking down. We were sitting like the posture of sitting on a curb, he said, don't mind me boys, just passing along. Then he briskly walked off and back into the woods. I recall us being scared, but not seriously. Kind of like, what was he doing here? What was he wearing? That was weird. We didn't take off running or anything. So this vivid memory pops back into my head on the highway. I'm like no way and I call my girlfriend and tell her exactly what I recalled. She responds kind of like I'm telling a dream like oh weird crazy but I'm like yo I gotta reach out to Mike

about this and see if he remembers it. We'd lost touch hard, staying close for a while after I moved into midtown Atlanta, but eventually fading away. He has a daughter now, and this was 20 years ago. I get home around 10-15 or so. I'm watching some YouTube video on my bed with my cat and browsing Reddit and just generally end of the night phone stuff. I open instagram, I've got a few accounts, one band, one for memes, one for work and one personal. When I switched to my personal account I got a DM, it's from Mike. This man had DM'd me at 9.49pm. Hey bro, do you remember when we were way back in that swamp and the man in the top hat came up to us? I got chills. I was like, alright, what's going on? Crazy thing is, is that it's been a dramatic year in terms of my perception in the world. I was a hardcore argumentative atheist

since my teens, but over the last year and a half I had just been open-minded and realized I have no clue what's going on just in general. Michael and I talked for over an hour, in detail, about everything we could remember. He had been laying in bed when it came to him, same time as I when I was driving. We remember everything the same. He reminded me of exactly the way we'd come from this boy Nick's house. It wasn't a malicious thing for me. It was just a reminder that I'm just so unsure of what this world is all about. To preface this, this happened a little while back and we haven't had any issues since, but it kind of bothered me. We live in an apartment complex area that has been known to have some hauntings in the area. The area was built on a Chinese prisoner of war camp where a lot of people died along with some old samurai battlegrounds.

I have not had any paranormal experiences before this point. My wife has had some weird stuff go on in her life before and our friend has wanted to experience something so we invited her over and decided to do some spooky stuff at two in the morning. It was my wife and our friend sitting on the couch doing their own thing, chanting, calling out, typical horror movie white people stuff, and I was sitting in a chair across from them watching. After a couple of minutes of sitting in the chair I felt a weird presence and saw a flash of a Japanese kabuki, the white mask with red markings, and a very loud female scream. Think female horror movie off in the distance of the haunted house type. I shook it off, thinking my nerves were getting the better of me. Late at night, lights out, trying to be spooky, and continue to watch my wife and buddy. After a couple of minutes go by I feel like someone

lightly pushes on the back of my head. Then the image of the mask and same scream flash into my head. At this point I'm freaked out a little. Two times could still be a coincidence right? Then after another minute or so I feel like I'm blacking out. My vision narrows and I feel the same presence much stronger, almost like hands in my head. The same mask and scream flash in my mind. I decided enough is enough and turn on the lights and say I'm done. Both my wife and buddy turn to me and ask how long I had been standing before I turned the lights on. I asked why because I had just gotten up. They said they thought I stood up about 10 minutes prior and that there was a black shadow figure standing directly where I was sitting. We wrapped up for the night and didn't think about it for a couple of days until my wife started having sleep paralysis. She described a lady, long black hair

with a mask that had red markings that came into our room and just stared at her for a long time then vanished. Mind you, I hadn't told her about the mask or why I'd said I was done with our spooky outing. Over the next couple of weeks, she'd see her either through sleep paralysis or out of the corner of her eye. It really unnerved us. We spread salt, looked into banishing spirits in the house, a bunch of different Japanese rituals we could do. None of it really helped. It all stopped though after we started talking about having a kid and starting a family. All of a sudden, no more sleep paralysis, no more weird feelings in the house, no nothing. We looked a little more into the area and found out that the children around the area

have described a nice lady that they play with and protects them. Stops kids before they run into the street and get hit by a car. Keeps them away from the hornet nests and centipedes, plays games and sings to them. We're not sure who she was, but it sounds like the same lady to us, maybe. Anyone else have any thoughts on the matter? Listen, I'm a skeptic. I've been a lawyer for the past ten years and I'm about two-thirds of the way from being a licensed clinical psychologist in my home state. I understand Occam's razor and how simple explanations are normally best. I also know how impressionable people's minds can be, especially when disturbed or stressed.

However, my family and I are having an issue, and I just have no rational way to deal with it, so I'm looking for some advice. I'll premise this all with the following. We've lived in this rental for the past 14 months, and have not had one single negative issue other than having to confront a neighbor or two about loud music. Now I don't even know if I currently believe in anything involving the supernatural or even anything religious oriented. I have in the past

but not necessarily now. That being said I have an open mind. Nothing has happened here until yesterday. I'm a big gamer in my spare time which is not very often with a 3 year old and a pregnant wife. Yesterday I bought Resident Evil 7 for the PSVR and there has been just strange stuff happening ever since. I bought it yesterday around lunch time and then came home from GameStop. I had to leave again to get my car into the shop for some repairs. I left the game at home while I was out and the family stayed. When I returned home, my wife was on the living room floor, crying. My daughter was fine, but my wife asked why I hadn't responded to my phone.

Apparently while I was out, she and my daughter were watching videos on the laptop in her bedroom when they both heard a gigantic bang in the living room. We had a gliding chair we initially used for getting our daughter to sleep when she was a baby. The chair had somehow fallen forward toward the direction of the entertainment center with my consoles, etc. There's just no way this chair would be able to fall forward like that for no reason. No way. I tried to reason with my wife about it and come up with some kind of explanation. I thought my daughter may have positioned it in a funny way and it just fell.

Regardless, I wrote it off, but last night I was playing Resident Evil 7 late and heard my coffee pot making its usual noises. Now I had coffee way earlier in the day but hadn't for some 10 hours or so. Our coffee pot turns off by itself unless you manually turn it back on and then it will just stay on until turned off again, I think. I absolutely did not turn it back on again. I was just sitting there playing with the VR goggles and then it was on. Still, I tried to chalk it up to maybe one of us accidentally turning it on, which is a stretch. Today we left for a family outing and I was the last one out of the house. I for sure turned off all the lights as I'm a stickler about such things. I know they were all off when I left.

Then when we got home this evening the living room light was on and all of those so called occurrences are just really messing with us tonight. I have an unborn child and daughter. I hate to move but I don't want my family in danger. I threw out Resident Evil 7 at my wife's request a few hours ago but this is all messing with me very badly. The game is in the garbage bin out on the street. Could it be the object? Is it the house? Is it all a great big coincidence? Or is it something attracted to one of us? I don't even know if I believe in these things but I do know enough has happened to make me write this so anybody's input would be immensely and wholeheartedly appreciated. So this all began when my friend, we'll call M, moved into a new house south of town.

The house was built sometime in the early 1900s and has a very strange layout, especially in the basement. M moved there during the summer so all of our friends were free to hang out in the new house. It was a normal boys night with us just screwing around and playing stupid games. At one point around 2 in the morning a few of us decided to play ghost in the graveyard in the extremely creepy basement. The others would not because they were saying they felt very uneasy and got negative energy from the basement. The others would not because they were saying they felt very uneasy and got negative energy from the basement. So the game commenced with the ones who were willing to play. I was seeking first. While I was searching, I had walked into a room and I instantly had a sick feeling in

my gut, but I continued to walk deeper in. I bumped into a table and bruised my hip so I didn't want to continue any further in fear of hurting myself in the scary darkness again. As I proceeded to turn around I felt someone grab my calf and pull my leg back towards the back of the room. I jumped, whipped out my phone, turned my flashlight on and shone it to the back of the room. No one in sight. I then heard a knocking and I called to one of the boys upstairs to turn on the lights. The switch at the top of the stairs can control all lights downstairs and I then called out to everyone that they had to come out. I told them what happened and all of them said they felt strange things as well. My friend C said that he had felt someone touch his back as if they were trying to get his attention. M said he was hearing someone whisper to him but he didn't recognize the voice.

The two others that were down there, T and W, were hiding in a closet together and they both heard a third person breathing in the closet. We're all very spooked at this point and run upstairs ASAP. We tell the others what had happened and then they told us something that spooked us even more. My friend M has three big dogs that have no fear to anything whatsoever or so we thought. While we were playing our game the dogs were growling at the basement door and when there was a knock heard from upstairs the dogs started to cry and retreat into the living room. After experiencing this we decided it'd be best to spend the rest of the night upstairs and away from the basement door. Fast forward to the next night. I'm home alone sitting in the living

room with my dog, Abby. Abby and I are sitting on the floor in front of the TV watching whatever and when I start telling my girlfriend about what happened, Abby gets up into her fighting stance, try to imagine the cutest and beefy tricolored Aussie and gets low, low, low to the ground. She begins to growl into the kitchen. Then all of a sudden we both hear a thud. Abby begins to cry and runs behind me. I get up and walk into the kitchen to see nothing. Ever since then I have not felt alone in my house when it's only me and my dog. It will feel sometimes very heavy and it will get cold fast randomly and there's an occasional smell in the living room super late at night that was never there before. Sometimes when I'm in my room I'll hear creaks in the hallway like someone's walking it's almost always followed up by the sound of Abby's pattering and whimpers coming closer to my door. But I have to admit, I'm not entirely sure it's Abby all the time, mainly because I know she's not as heavy as the pattering sounds make it seem sometimes and she sure does not have the same deep breathing I hear from outside my door.

My sister bought a house about two years ago and moved my parents and I in with her and her boyfriend. The property is a little over an acre with two houses on the property. We live in the house we called the Blue House. It was the largest house in the lot and the newest having never had anyone else live in it. At least I think so, maybe there had been one other. The other house was in the lot we would call the Red House. Obviously the houses were named these due to their colors. The Red House was not new at all. I believe it was built in the 80s possibly. Not entirely sure, I'd have to ask my sister later. No one lived in it for the most part. There was no kitchen in it and we mainly just used it to play airsoft and until we rented out to some friends.

Prior to them moving in we had several paranormal experiences in that house. I do not remember the exact order that these happen in but here's what happened. One day my sister, we'll call her A, was pulling out of the driveway to go do some errands. Her boyfriend, we'll call him T, was getting the gate for her as there was a fence in between the two houses for our dogs. T didn't notice anything but A told me she glanced towards the red house and saw a dark figure of a man in the window. She looked ahead before she had even processed it and when she looked back it was gone. Let me remind you that this was before her friends moved in so no one was in the house. I was at school when my parents were in their room. In several other instances we would

hear footsteps or little kids running down the hallway and giggling. On one occasion I was playing airsoft with T and a couple of his friends. We were in teams of two and I was on T's team. I just followed him as it was one of my first real games and I'm not the best at tactics. We were crouched down under a window trying to find the other two. I was wearing a tactical vest for ammo and protection but it didn't weigh much at all, maybe a little heavier than a normal t-shirt. Suddenly the weight nearly tripled. I legitimately felt like there was a person on my back, putting all their weight on me, like I was giving someone a piggyback ride. T turned the corner and shot one of them while I followed suit and shot the other.

I managed to stand and took about four steps before the weight vanished. I'm not sure what was in the red house but that wasn't the only house haunted. The blue house was too, maybe not as much but definitely there. Something I experienced a lot was that I would stay up late, 3-4am and almost every night if I listened closely I could hear what sounded like a music box. At the time my brother and sister-in-law were staying in the room next to mine so I just assumed that it was one of their kids toys and brushed it off. Until they moved out and my other brother moved into the same room. It continued. Another reoccurring thing would be

my door opening right around the same time of night but that was only once in a few months or so. Another incident involving my door, I had gone to school one day and T told me he was with A playing video games when he heard my door slam shut. He assumed I hadn't gone to school as I don't go a lot and he got up to go and yell at me for staying home when he saw that I wasn't there. As I had stated I went to school that day. Other than that there was mainly just little things. You know stuff moving, weird noises. The worst thing the ghost in the blue house did actually did scare me quite a bit. We had begun calling what we assumed was a male spirit Jeffrey. It was a joke really but this led us to believe he or she didn't like his

name. They had one of those little metal things that you put on your door so you have a coat hanger on the back of your door and on it she had a big black sweater. One morning she went to put it on when she saw the sweater ripped to shreds. It wasn't completely ripped, just ripped in certain parts as if giant claws had ripped it. Of course, at first we were quite surprised. Our first thoughts were that her cats had done this, but we quickly thought that if a cat could cut it, then we could rip it right. My mom, A, T, and I all attempted to rip it to no avail. We quickly put together that it must have been Jeffrey. Both houses burnt down in the campfire. Since then we've been staying with T's ex-co-workers in their home. She has heard stuff move and seen stuff move just like that before and just last night a box I had nearby my computer fell right off the table. It had been there for weeks and no one had touched it at all. This spirit even followed me all the way to Anaheim where I went for a school trip.

I was staying in a hotel room with three other girls and throughout the night we heard and saw stuff being moved. So that's the story of our paranormal experiences. I'll update if anything more happens. Feel free to comment whether or not you think Jeffrey is a good or evil spirit or what you think I should do to see if this is all legit. I moved into a new apartment in July 2018 with both of my parents. Since I am in college, I don't have the time nor the money to live on my own. Prior to that, we lived in another city for my last year of high school and before that I was living in the countryside for the first 16 years of my life. Now I am 17. I am Canadian. Our school system is different from the USA's. Had I been American I would still be in high school but Canadians

typically finished high school at 16. I have posted previous stories of my paranormal experiences. None of them ever happened at the same place, some of them happened at different times and overall, it became a part of my life. On my first move, I had only experienced two paranormal events, each scaring me for a little while. Whenever I was in that apartment, I felt uneasy, watched. The first one happened when I was in my bedroom, sitting very close to my bed's corner so I could read under my lamp's light. That happened maybe three months before we moved. My bed is a bunk bed, but I use the second bed for storage.

There isn't even a mattress, it's just cardboard boxes filled with miscellaneous items. One thing I can assure, all the items are either really big or they are clothes. By big I mean books, shoes, etc. Things that have weight. Well, as I am reading, I felt what felt like either somebody letting themselves fall to sit on the corner I was close to, or something particularly heavy falling on that corner. Now I jolt up, heart racing, going, what was that? And I'm looking everywhere for what might have fallen, but there's nothing on the floor. And after thinking about it for a little while, I didn't hear anything falling on the ground. After I searched everywhere I simply closed the lights and went to bed.

Fast forward a month before moving. I wake up at 3am. My bed, shaking, up and down. Not side to side. It stopped a few seconds after I woke up. I grab my phone, look at the time, see what time it is, put it down, thinking, what was that? How can a bed even do that? I live near Montreal, my region has never had any earthquakes and it couldn't have been a dream because it woke me up and continued after I woke up. After that there were a few things but truly minor. Things being one place at night when I go to bed and being out of place in the morning, curtains moving during the night, etc. Nothing too noticeable. After we moved nothing happened. Until January this year. Before we moved a very old lady lived in our apartment and she passed away weeks before we moved. Her descendants never came to take her belongings so the owners had thrown them away. Her car is still parked where her parking spot was untouched. It's a thought that saddens me thinking that all I owned is trash and the only thing that interests my children is my money. My mom kept the few

belongings that remained in the apartment which is the shower rings and two pairs of curtains, one in my bedroom and the others on the front door. As soon as I stepped in our new apartment I felt a sensation of peace, calm and empathy. I saw the lady only once and she was super sweet. Nothing happened for the first few months. I guess that the moving stress made me numb so I didn't feel her around as much as I do now. But now she became a part of my life. In the morning before I leave she will help me remember to bring everything I need to school. When I come home, when nobody is home, I can smell the same perfume that drenched the apartment when we visited. A strong, powerful smell of flowers.

At night, I put a chair in the corner of my bedroom and I can almost see her watching over my sleep. She manifested herself only twice. The first step, my stepdad and my mother are in the living room watching TV while I am in the bathroom doing whatever. The house is set up so that the living room is in front of the two doors that lead to our apartment and there's a wall separating the kitchen from the living room. If someone cooks, you can only smell whatever they're cooking. You can't see them. And from the kitchen, you can access this small hallway that connects at the end of the bathroom and the two bedrooms. From the bathroom I can directly see my parents' bedroom but not mine. They always keep their door closed because my stepdad is allergic to the cat.

My door is always open. Well as I am doing whatever I can hear my parents' bedroom door handle rattle. I turn expecting my mom or stepdad going out of the bedroom, but all I see is the door handle moving, and I hear my parents chatting in the living room. I'm standing, shocked, until it suddenly stopped like it began. I didn't tell anybody about this. Two weeks ago I was once again in the bathroom washing my hands when I felt someone pull on my shirt. I knew somebody was behind me. Surely my mom as she was getting prepared for her night and stepdad was away at work. But when I turned there was nobody. I tried to repeat the situation several times by repeating the moves I did when washing my hands,

but nothing felt the same until I pulled on my own shirt with my hand. I'd like to preface this with, yes, I know a lot of this probably sounds really outlandish and who would really believe a 17 year old posting to reddit but hear me out. And to be completely honest I don't even know if this is really the right subreddit to be posting this in but it was the first thing that came to mind when I felt like I needed to say something about it. When I was little I used to, for some reason, confidently say that I wouldn't make it past the age of 20. Not just around that age, but specifically 20. But along with the fact that I also said that I just wouldn't be able to have kids.

I mean, I really had no reason to. What 8 year old just says things like that and genuinely feels it's real? Kids don't think about that kind of stuff. I remember being so casual about it too. Just not thinking much of it, you know. I was a kid. I hadn't grasped what death really meant at that time. The years go by, I hadn't really thought about it.

Just going about life, dealing with the ups and downs. Yesterday however something really set off a red flag for me. I was just sitting in my bed minding my own business. I had just gotten off a FaceTime call with one of my best friends and as I was sitting there I got this sudden thought in my head. Almost as if somebody was trying to tell me something saying that I was going to pass at the age of 19. So of course I sit there, crying a bit, absolutely terrified of what just happened. Now normally stuff like this wouldn't exactly be anything to particularly worry about, but the fact that it fits so perfectly with something I used to take as a fact as a kid really made me

question it. Another thing that really sent chills down my spine is that sometimes I get this feeling that things are just going to happen. Feel free to call me crazy or take it as me misinterpreting some sort of normal feeling people are supposed to have but I'll get this feeling sometimes when I'm doing things that it has to be done a certain way. I don't mean like I need to measure this correctly or it won't look right. I mean that if I don't do what it's telling me, things won't turn out how they're supposed to and things are going to go wrong. The actual feeling for it's really hard to explain and it doesn't exactly feel like an emotion of sorts but it just feels like something good. Not like happy or like this is the right thing to do but just a sense of positive, no

specific type of anything positive, just positive. For all I know this could just be some form of OCD or something of the sort but it still concerns me. Now having this strong sense of do it I also have the opposite where when I go against what that feeling is telling me it feels terribly terribly wrong almost as if though I just took part of something away from myself. It's like it's trying to show me what to do to get the certain end result that I should have to get where I need to be. I got that exact feeling at the exact time that the voice said that I was going to die. Assuming that I don't just chalk this up to me having some sort of illness or something wrong with me mentally and that this really is something bigger or paranormal. I'd want to know what or who it is.

God knows I have more than enough family members that have passed that it could be, although I feel like I have some sort of feeling of familiarity if that happens to be the case. It could also be some sort of thing to blame on this house. I lived here for almost three years now and I still swear that it's cursed. I always feel like there's something or somebody here with me. Even when I'm alone I still feel some sort of presence which could also be a variation of the whole certain frequencies make you feel like you're being watched situations. My last and to me the one that I'm most drawn into take as the solution is that something's just here with me. I had never once had sleep paralysis in my life until I moved to the house that I live in now. To make a long story short the sleep paralysis was how everybody

typically described it with the heavy pressure and not being able to move or speak but like many others I had something staring at me. It was just peering at me from over my blankets which had been mostly covering my face at the time. It had an oddly innocent yet somewhat unsettling sense to their presence. Of course I was terrified to just see somebody staring at me in the darkness in my room, right on top of where I was in my bed with me, but I swear on it and feel like it's them that's been trying to help me with this, whatever there is to try and be accomplished with it. I get the same feeling thinking about it as I do when something tells me something's supposed to be done or just states facts to me that I didn't exactly know just yet. Quite frankly the situation scares me and I'm beyond scared of

what's going to happen when I'm 19 but it oddly gives me a sense of comfort knowing that something might be trying to watch over me and make sure things turn out okay. I haven't seen or had sleep paralysis since that one time. Maybe they don't want to scare me or just wanted to say that I'm here but I just think that posting this here at least gives me some sense of if something happens people know what's happening. I don't know how I'm going to live the next two years of my life just knowing the situation even happened, but if somebody has anything to say, whether it's medical information about something similar to what's happening or any form of paranormal entities that happens to be similar to this, please say so. I'm scared and don't know how to really take any of this.

Any sort of explanation helps. And if something happens to me in two years, you know that this has something to do with it. My name is Aaron and a discussion I recently had with my mother reminded me of a terrifying thing I'd experienced. This incident happened in my late teens. I'm currently 23 and figured I'd better relay the tale to my fellow readers and writers before it becomes lost again to more recent and important happenings. When this story happened, I was near 17 and I was working with my mother and her business cleaning office buildings. It sucked sometimes, but it was mostly easy and paid well for a teenager. I'd done it since I turned 15 and had managed to save a big chunk of cash to go toward college.

My family was working class therefore my parents couldn't afford to pay my way through school and since I'd seen student loans almost destroy my older brother I opted to pay my own way if I could and I eventually did. The evening this happened mom and I were cleaning a large floor sized office she had just got the job for. This place was an average-sized job and we figured we could finish the work in two or three hours but from the way it seemed the office employees were unusually clean so we got it done in less than two. That night I was wrapping up the vacuuming in the main hall when I heard what sounded like a woman's voice. Generally when we began cleaning the offices all of the main hall when I heard what sounded like a woman's voice. Generally,

when we began cleaning the offices, all of the employees were long gone. At this particular job, it was nearing three in the morning and we had assumed that we had the place to ourselves. I turned off the vacuum for a moment to see if I was indeed hearing someone, but I heard nothing, so I went back to work. When I reached the point in which the cord couldn't go any further, I unplugged it so I could move to the closer outlet. The second the vacuum stopped, I heard a woman's voice again, but this time I could hear it clearly asking for help. It sounded like it came from the office at the end of the hall,

so I walked up to the door and slowly turned the knob and slightly cracked it. Despite the fact that I was already shaking from fear I quietly peeked in and saw a large man holding a woman in a business suit down on her desk. From what I could see the man was trying to hold her down with one hand while attempting to pull his underpants with the other. The room was dimly lit but I'm almost positive he was also holding a small knife to her throat. Regardless of whether I was terrified there was no way I could let him assault her.

So, gritting my teeth I threw the door open and yelled at him to get off of her. The man jumped up real fast and that was when I could see the knife more closely. Despite it only being a small Swiss army type knife I was still scared out of my mind and was already questioning my decision. He stood for a moment staring at me as he held the knife in front of him. Unsure of what to do I told him in the most confident voice I could summon that there

were several other people in the office with me and one had a gun. That was all a crock of course. My mother was the only other person on that floor and besides the security guard who was god knows where, we were the only other people in the entire building. I could see by the way he looked at me. He wasn't sure if I was bluffing or not. Just to be a bit more reassuringuring I told him that I had called the security guard and he had already called the cops. Almost as if I made it so I could hear sirens outside the building. I did my best to stifle my shock and nonchalantly pointed outside to drive home the point. When he heard the sirens he dropped the knife and ran from the room. As he approached me I shrunk from him but he wasn't even paying

attention to me at that point. I was so relieved. I let out a huge sigh and ran over to the lady. She was curled up on the floor next to her desk crying. I couldn't think of anything else to do but hold her as she wept. Not long after the attacker ran away the two male police officers came into the office with a pair of paramedics. One of the paramedics asked me if I was hurt and I assured him I wasn't. Another officer, this time a female, soon came into the room and began assisting one of the male officers while they tried to get a statement from the victim. The other male cop approached me and suggested I fill him in on what I'd seen.

We walked out into the hall and I told him everything that had happened. While I was speaking to him, I noticed my mother sitting at one of the desks talking to another police officer. I'll admit, I was a little concerned that the attacker had perhaps went after my mother, but once I heard her speaking to the police as they first entered the floor, I was able to relax and focus on the poor woman who had just escaped being violated. When I'd finished talking to the cop, I walked over to my mother. The first thing that she did was hug me and ask me if I was alright. I told her the same thing I told the paramedic. Then came my turn to ask if she was okay and she simply said yes.

Being curious, I asked her if she knew who had called the police. Apparently she had been the one. When she had finished with the rest of the cleaning she was curious what was holding me up. Just before she came around the corner of the hallway I had been vacuuming she heard me talking to someone in the office. Even though she didn't know who I was speaking to she could hear the terror in my voice so she hid behind one of the nearby desks and called the cops. I didn't hesitate to thank her for doing that but she waved it off like it was no big deal. My mom is the coolest chick in the world and I can only hope to grow up to be half the woman she is.

We sat at one of the tables while we waited to get the okay to go by the police. After ten or so minutes, the paramedics came out of the back office with the lady on a gurney. As they passed, she thanked me for saving her. Unsure of what to say, I started crying. I'm still not sure why, but I did. Perhaps the guilt I felt for not acting faster was the reason but this long after the attack it probably doesn't matter. A little while after they had taken her away we were allowed to leave. My mom tried to remind the police to make sure to clean up after themselves. She joked that she didn't

want to be blamed for the office being dirty. They assured her that they would leave the office spotless. I recognize that joking in a situation such as this may appear crude but being able to laugh did work well to dissipate the tension in the air. After we'd finished loading our supplies in the truck we headed home. At first I feared I'd have a difficult time sleeping that morning but I guess the comedown from the adrenaline left me exhausted and I woke up in the same position I had fallen asleep in. The next night my mom and I went to work. She volunteered to vacuum the hall that I had been in the night before and I didn't argue.

I had walked down that hall earlier in the night just to see how I would feel about being there. Strangely, I wasn't bothered at all by it but then again, I wasn't the one who was assaulted either. As the days morphed into weeks, we continued to work and by the time school started, I had all but forgotten about what had happened. It wasn't until November that we heard anything new about that night. Fortunately for all decent people, the police caught the guy as he ran out of the building. From what they could tell, he had slipped into the building at some point that evening and snuck past the security guard. He did admit that he was there to steal stuff to sell for narcotics, but they couldn't get him to admit to the assault. It didn't really matter what he said. The police had enough evidence

to convict and since he already had two strikes they were able to put him away for life. As far as his victim I hope she was able to put her life back together and move forward. I've not heard from her since or run into her nor do I ever expect to. It's probably best I'm not around to remind her of that terrible night. Mom kept going with the business until last year when she remarried and was finally able to put away her duster and vacuum. Paul, her new husband, is a great guy and they seem very happy. Now we come to me. As I said, I have put myself through college and just graduated this past year. My biggest hope is

that through my education and experience, and making and saving money, I can help other young people avoid the pitfalls of borrowing money for school and other associated financial mistakes most Americans make. I'm not pretending to be some sort of get-rich-quick guru. I just want to help people get out of bad spots, kind of like I did that night. I've got a new story to share with everyone today. It didn't actually happen to me but to my grandma while she was still living in Mexico. Since she can't write English very well I had her retell it to me so I could post it here. She had first told me about it when I was young and although the small details

slowly slipped from my mind I have always remembered the overall facts of it and I still shiver every time I'm reminded of what occurred. I'll try to be brief when I tell you a little of her background information. At the time she was almost 50 and because of a recent divorce she was forced to go back to work She had scored a well-paying job as a maid for a wealthy family in Mexico City The family was made up of the two parents and a young boy Gran doesn't remember the boy's exact age but she did know he was under 10. They also had several other staff working for them at the time and all lived elsewhere except for their security team. As you may know Mexico City has had the unfortunate honor of being the

kidnapped capital of the world but at this time which was around 1995 they were ranked second or third behind Columbia. Most of the more wealthy families in the country are forced to have around-the-clock security teams because of the constant threat of abduction to their children. Some of those families also require their staff to pass a background check in order to limit the chance of hiring people who could pose a security risk. Gran's father had been a well-respected judge in the city and because of this, in addition to a load of experience and maid services when she was younger,

the family hired her on the spot. She'd only been working for the family about a year when this happened. My aunt had moved back in with her mother after the divorce, so she would provide transportation when she was available. That day, she had problems with her beetle so Gran ended up arriving at the family's house about 15 minutes late. She was put on an edge before she even entered the house. The security team member, Manuel, who was usually somewhere outside the front, was nowhere to be seen and when she called out for him, he didn't respond.

This concerned her at first but she figured he was called away to do another job so she continued into the gate and onto the front door. Upon entering she was once again put on edge, this time because of the total silence. And all the time that she had worked there, she couldn't ever remember a second when the house was quiet. There was always some form of noise coming from the family, staff, or television. Once again, she called out. This time for the mother, then anyone, but no one answered. She continued to call out various staff members' names as she walked through the house's many rooms. As she drew closer to the rear of the home as she walked through the house's many rooms.

As she drew closer to the rear of the home, she began to notice an odd burning smell. The odd smell got stronger as she neared the master bedroom. The door to the room was always kept closed, but this morning it stood slightly open and this made her even more nervous. The father of the family made it clear to her that she was allowed to clean the room, but the door should always be closed after her and never left open even when she was in the room. She assumed this was because they valued their privacy, but acknowledged it could be a safety measure. Regardless of the reason, it being open even a bit was a bad sign. With every step closer she took to the door, she felt the sick feeling in her stomach grow worse. Slowly pushing the door open, she was met with a ghastly sight.

Everyone was dead. When I say everyone, that's just what I mean. It looked like every member of the household, including all of the staff but her her had been packed into the room and machine gunned to death. Shocked beyond relief she ran outside screaming for the police. She told me she must have screamed for help for at least 10 minutes before she was able to flag down a passing car. The man in the car told her to get in and they drove to a local store and called the police. They returned to the house and waited for the police to arrive. Finally they managed to respond after almost 30 minutes.

Despite the request of the officers, she couldn't bring herself to go back into the house. The sight of all that blood and worst of all, the poor little boy was too much for her to handle. She even had to hide her eyes as the medical officials brought out the bodies. Then a strange question was asked to her by the police. Where's the security team? They said none of the bodies matched their description. After a much longer statement to the police and a small amount of investigating, it was discovered that the entire security team was missing. Gran is unsure of how many men made up the team, but she knew at least two men worked during the day when she was there.

She never heard if the men were ever found because she made the decision to leave Mexico not long after that, but after some time thinking, she agrees with the police's theory that they were in fact the culprits or at least were told not to be around when everything was planning to arrive. Another realization only came to her much later when my mother happened to remind her that she was late for work that day and if she hadn't been, she most likely would have been killed too. Well, if any of you have paid any attention to the media in the last 30 years, you'll know that law enforcement in Mexico is less than effective, especially when it comes to crimes of this nature. To this day, as far as anyone in our family is aware of, regardless of what side of the border they're living on, these murders are still unsolved. I'm sure if a crime such as this happened in the US, the odds would be good that it would be solved,

but unfortunately in Mexico, a large and ever-growing majority of instances like these are being left unresolved. This is the main reason my family is left. If the leaders of a nation won't defend its people, they don't deserve the respect, or at least that's what my papa says. A hilarious number of theories about what happened in that house have been pushed about over the last 20 years or so. They cover the range from cartel hit to botched kidnapping and even alien attack. And yes, I'm serious. My grandma's opinion is that it was indeed a botched kidnapping and from what I've learned from her and my other family members about the way kidnappings were done

down there, I agree with her. However, even though she would have a hard time believing it, the chance of a cartel hit wouldn't be impossible. They wouldn't have been the first family to have a drug lord for a father. At the end of the day, the reason doesn't matter, especially more than 20 years after it occurred. The fact is that a family and their staff were slaughtered in the name of greed, and the people they had trusted most to protect them were most likely responsible for it. If this fact isn't enough to give you chills, remember, they were still free and may even be planning to do it again. Their next target may be reading this right now.

June 23rd, 2005 was a day that would prove to change my life forever. Despite it starting just like any other, by the time the sun would go down, I'd never be able to return to the carefree life I'd been living for the past 25 years. I know many of you dislike how other writers often choose to lay out some form of background in their stories, but I assure you without knowing the events that led up to this disaster, I would only be giving you half the story. I promise I'll try to keep it brief with the facts and get to the reason why you're here as fast as possible. On or around April of 2005, I got a job at a mid-level hotel off the highway. Even though I had no desire to be a housekeeper most of my other options were out of the window because I had a felony on my record. Of course I was told I could be a stripper but that would have been my last option and I wasn't

there quite yet. If you may be wondering how exactly I caught my charge you're gonna have to wait for a minute when I feel like writing that story but I promise you it wasn't anything exciting. Anyway I worked that job sometimes seven days a week and other than some amazingly disgusting things I found it stayed relatively normal. That facade of normality would be destroyed on the morning of June 23rd. I had caught the bus into work like I had every day before, but this day a weird item in the paper made me uneasy and would prove somewhat prophetic. A headline stuck at the back page stated, Violence towards hotel staff on the rise nationally.

Whether it was aimed at me personally or not, it did manage to put me on edge. By the time it came to clock in, I tried to put it out of my mind and get to work, but unfortunately within the hour, one of the other girls mentioned it. I must not have been the only one bothered by the headline because the other girl standing next to us told her to shut up, and she did. This was thanks for the last time it was mentioned but for me the day would only get worse. Multiple times that morning I happened to notice a guy hanging around the soda machines. The thing that made him stand out to me was his nervous body language. His eyes constantly scanned as if though he was looking for someone or something but could never find it. Despite his clearly strange behavior I wrote him off as just another nutcase, a mistake I now very much regret.

I assumed that security had his eye on him but it wasn't until later I was told that it was the guard's day off. I didn't have the luxury to watch the guy so I continued to focus on my work. It wasn't until I came back from my lunch break that I noticed him again. Now he was standing much closer to where I was working and I was trying to keep an eye on him and work at the same time but I soon lost track of him. Another one of the girls had mentioned him creeping around her area earlier but we had foolishly joked about it rather than take the threat seriously. Then in the blink of an eye he popped up behind me and now he had a knife pointing in my back. I had just opened the door to her room and was about to enter it when he

reappeared. All I remember from that moment was the feeling of the knife point poking through my uniform and the rotten smell of his breath. He was leaning closely against me and telling me to stay quiet and go in the room. At first I couldn't make myself move but a small poke urged my frozen legs forward. I didn't stop moving until I bumped into the first bed and I heard him tell me to lay down. That was when I had to face the fact of what he was going to do to me. Up till then I could still pretend that wasn't why he was here but now I had no other option. This was when I started crying. Quietly at first but once the fear took over I

was bawling uncontrollably. I must have been making a lot of noise because he yelled at me through his gritted teeth to shut up. But when I saw the door start to close behind him, I began wailing even louder. Now he was even madder and he rushed at me with the knife in an effort to shut me up. I noticed in his haste that he had left the door open just wide enough for me to see people passing through the parking lot. If I was going to get out of this, I knew I only had a few seconds before he'd reach me. That was when I screamed for help as loud as I possibly could, but he was on me before I could finish, his knife now pointing at my throat. I felt the fight go out of me and I just wanted it to be over. The silent tears continued to roll down my

face as I stared at the ceiling resigned to my fate. I could feel the weight of his body as he squirmed around trying to unzip his pants but then all of a sudden the weight and movement stopped. I remember thinking at first, thank god that was fast, but then I realized my skirt was still pulled down and for some odd reason that made me chuckle. In an instant, like you see in the movies, the room filled with yelling and bustling. My eyes noticed a tall, burly guy in a jean jacket punching my attacker over and over. That's when I finally began to get my wits about me again. One of the girls ran into the room and grabbed me. She rushed me out while the two men continued fighting, my attacker still getting the worst

of it. It wasn't long before the cops arrived and took control of the scene. My attacker couldn't put up much of a fight at that point. The other guy, who turned out to be a trucker, made sure he left on a stretcher. From what he told me, he'd heard my call for help when he was passing the open door. I'm not sure if I could refer to it as my lucky day, but had he not decided to go that direction to his truck, it almost surely would have ended in disaster. The paramedics wanted to check me out but I quickly assured them I was fine. When it came to physically fine, I was but psychologically, I was not. After a year of constant nightmares, I was eventually forced to recognize that and spent any spare cent I had on therapy.

A solid five years later, I was far from perfect but at least the nightmares had gone away and I didn't have a panic attack anytime someone stood behind me at the market. The trial set me back a little but there was no way I wasn't going to be there. The worst part proved to be the testimony of the trucker. My attacker's lawyer was fairly optimistic that he wouldn't be able to show up to testify but as he told me that day he drove all the way across the country to do what was right and his boss could fire him if he didn't like it. My turn to testify came and I did as well as I could without completely losing it. I must have done a good job because after I told my story his lawyer decided to take the plea deal he'd been offered. So, for the next 20 years, he'd be off the street and myself and other women would have one less

scumbag to worry about. Sure, I would have been happier with a longer sentence, but I know how overloaded our prisons are and every second I know where he is gives me a little bit of safety that I was lacking before. The experience made going back to work right away hard so I decided to take some time off and go to school. I had no real goal for or plan for school but the student loans allowed me time to deal with my problems without having to work 60 hours a week to keep my head above water. Somehow during the whole process I ended up with a degree in counseling and now I try to help other women with similar trauma deal with its lingering effects. Funny how life works out sometimes.

If there's anyone reading this that happens to be wondering why today is the day I'm writing this, well, I just received a letter from the Department of Corrections letting me know that the man who attacked me almost 20 years ago is being released soon. Therefore I guess this seemed to be the appropriate time to tell my story. Apparently he had a good time and he is thought to no longer be a danger to the public. For his own good I hope they are right. I can assure you if he has any notion of coming after me, I'm not the naive and meek girl I once was.

It's in his best interest that we never meet again. My family has been encouraging me for quite some time to share the story of a horrid incident I was unwillingly made a part of while running a cleaning service for the elderly. I ran the business from 1990 to 2001 and this specific occurrence served as a motivator to get my permit to carry a handgun. After what I'd seen, I knew I never wanted to be left in a position where I was unable to defend myself. Once I tell you the story, you will know why. I'd been inspired to create my business after an especially bad interaction with another cleaning company. I had contacted them with the intent to contract them to come once a week and clean up my grandmother's home. She'd recently had a fall that resulted in

her breaking her hip and left her unable to pick up after herself with any real efficiency. At that time neither my mother nor myself could afford to pay exorbitant amounts that they were asking for. Therefore with nothing really to lose, I quit my job and teamed up with my sister and mom to create a house cleaning company just for the elderly on low incomes. We were well aware that it would take a large number of clients to make it work, but it became obvious to us after doing a small amount of research that the demand for that type of service was high. So, after a visit to Costco and a few phone calls, we dove headfirst into our work. The first few weeks of business

stayed somewhat slow, however within the month we had more business than we could handle. Over the next two years we continued to grow, occasionally hiring more employees along the way until we had reached the point that we no longer had to do the cleaning ourselves and could completely focus on the administrative side of the business. My mom eventually decided to sell me her share and it was up to my sister and I to manage a growing company on our own. We held on, but just barely until we decided to sell the monster to a competitor for a more than fair amount in 2001. This story involves a horrible scene I happened to stumble into around Christmas of 1995. I had been working on the cleaning side of the company for nearly a year when I was forced to fill in for an ill employee. At that time we had around 10 girls working for us and they were busy at other locations when she got sick.

Therefore, I had to pull out my uniform and get to scrubbing. The location I was filling in at was the home of one of our oldest clients, Ella Mae, and I felt a certain amount of obligation to her to prove I could still provide her with great service even though I'd not done any actual cleaning myself for quite some time. It was still important to me that I be capable of remembering why I started this company in the first place and not fall into the trap of caring for nothing but the bottom line. Anyhow I got to Ella's house around 10 that morning and knocked on the door. She didn't answer but I had no reason to worry because she had given us a key to let ourselves

in when she was out and that's just what I did. I started my job in the kitchen and since she rarely cooked food in there it didn't take me long to finish and move on. Although it was technically part of my job I would do a load of laundry for her back when I was her regular cleaner and that's what I was preparing to do when I found her. After I emptied the hamper, I heaped down the hall to check her bedroom for any other clothes and as I pushed on the door to go in, I saw that the doorknob was damaged, almost as if though the door had been kicked in. This caused me to pause for a moment. I knew Ella wouldn't allow anything in her home to go broken like this, so this anomaly instantly put me on guard. As I continued into the room, I noticed what looked like a foot sticking out from behind the bed,

and as I drew closer, I realized I had found Ella's body. Stifling the urge to scream, I did my best to pull myself together. I crouched down to check her pulse and this is when I first noticed that her hands were tied behind her back. This drastically changed the situation. It appeared that she had been assaulted, so I stopped myself before I touched her. The last thing I wanted to do was screw up the evidence. I don't know why this didn't come to my mind at first. I guess I just assumed people died in the nude from natural causes all the time. I mean, surely it has to happen relatively often. Regardless of how she died, I knew I had to call 911. The police arrived quickly with an ambulance soon after.

They confirmed that she had passed and probably had been like that for hours. I sat and talked to the officers for an hour or two and told them everything I knew about her and explained the way the scene appeared when I showed up. My hope was that at the time that Ella had not been violated but the media managed to dash those hopes with their coverage leading up to the trial. The man, whose name I refuse to write here, was caught seven months later and convicted at the trial. Even though he later tried to say he was railroaded, he had confessed multiple times to the police and his family that he was behind this, so I was pleased with the outcome.

He did manage to dodge the death penalty, but he was still sentenced to life with no parole, pretty much assuring he'd never get out to hurt another decent person again. Like I said in the beginning, this tragedy convinced me to get a concealed handgun permit. I wasn't very familiar with firearms prior to making the decision, but once I decided, I did a bunch of research, including talking to a police officer friend of mine and taking a couple of classes before I finally moved forward with the process. I'm not foolish enough to think I can save the world, but I do know there are monsters in the shape of human beings out there waiting to

victimize women, no matter the age, and I won't become one of them. It's been a long time since I shared a story with you all here, but I've been waiting for something scary or shocking to happen in my life. Well, boy, what happened just last week surely qualifies. As most of you know, I work for a power washing company. I may find myself cleaning algae buildup off of a sidewalk or black mold from the side of a building, so my job can be really diverse sometimes. When the events of this story happened, I was part of a crew power washing rush stains and dirt from the exterior walls of a large apartment complex. Although we rarely used them, the design of the complex required us to use scaffolding in order to reach certain areas of the facade. Since I have a major fear of heights I made it clear from the start

that I would not be one of the guys at the top. Most of the other guys in the crew didn't mind working on the scaffold so there wasn't much pushback from the bosses. I volunteered to run the ground level washer and that was what I was doing when the accident happened. We've been working at the complex for almost a week and we're getting near the end. The part of our job that took the longest was the erecting of the scaffold. Most of us try to get to the job a little early so setting it up wouldn't eat into our cleaning time. Each time we set the behemoth up I couldn't shake the bad vibe I was getting from it. I used my fear of heights as a justification for my ill feelings towards it but it may have had to do more with

the way the thing swayed and shook each time someone on it moved even an inch. Voicing my concerns most likely wouldn't have gotten me anywhere so I kept my mouth shut. That last morning we set it up it was windier than usual but within an hour of us finishing the wind had died down so we were able to get to work without the fear of it blowing down around us. For most of the remainder of the day work went smooth as usual but once we returned from lunch we were running on borrowed time, at least one of us was. When we got back to the complex we began noticing that the wind was beginning to pick up again. Despite this, it didn't appear to be blowing the scaffold down so we decided to get back to cleaning.

We were almost finished anyway and were looking forward to moving on to the next job. My partner climbed the scaffolding and I got to work at the ground level. I was in my own world listening to Joe Rogan but I could still faintly hear the scaffolding rattle every time he moved. This was the way it had been all week so I paid it no mind. At some point I turned my back to it and about that time a big and I do big, gust of wind blew through the area we were working in and was quickly followed by a series of bangs. When I heard the first bang, it got my attention and caused me to look behind me just in time to see the second level collapse, taking my partner with it. Even though I wanted to help him, I knew I couldn't. So I backed up real fast just in case part of it

got blown my way. It was a sickening thing to watch and the whole time I couldn't help but feel guilty. To be honest, I still feel that way. I know it's irrational but he's my friend and I just stood there. The second it all stopped, I ran over to him and began pulling parts of the structure off of him. He wasn't moving at first but when I touched him to take his pulse he started moaning. My first words to him were to stay still and not move. The possibility of him being paralyzed were with me the moment I realized he wasn't dead. My next move was to call 911 and they showed up in less than 5 minutes and rushed him off to the ER. The cops only held me for a few minutes in order to get a general idea of

what had happened and then let me go so I could meet my partner at the hospital. On the way, I called my supervisor and let him know what had occurred. To his credit, his only concern was for my co-worker's condition and nothing else. He made it to the hospital soon after I did and hung out with me while we waited for any news. About an hour after I got there we finally got to see him. He and the doctors filled us in on his injuries and besides a concussion and broken arm the worst news was that he was unable to feel anything from the waist down. Although this was crushing news to hear, the doctors are optimistic that he'll get his ability to move back in a couple of weeks. Their feeling is that the paralysis is a result of spinal cord

swelling and won't be permanent. Today makes it a week since the accident happened and my partner is doing well. Unfortunately, he's still paralyzed. He does his best to appear unbeat, but I can tell he's bummed about it. All we can do is wait and hope for the best. That's about it so far. I ask that everyone reading this pray for him and his family. If anything changes, I'll post an update here. Thank you all and stay safe. Mike

Here in my state law enforcement agencies have a department to clean crime scenes after the victim has been removed. Therefore my boss boss, seeing a gap in the industry, started the company I worked for about 15 years ago in order to provide that service. Regardless of whether we are hired by a family member to clean up after a death or by a law enforcement agency to remove signs of a violent car accident from the public view, we have always done our best to erase any sign of violence from that particular scene. I recently had an extremely unsettling experience at the scene of a death that I'd like to share with others here in the sub in order to find out if

anyone else has seen something similar in the course of their daily lives or has been told of such an incident by anyone they know. This whole thing went down at about 3pm in the afternoon. I had been dispatched to the scene across town from my present location. I was cleaning up an especially messy traffic accident. The other employee that was assisting me at the time was called away to another scene so I wrapped up my work there and headed over. By the time I arrived the police and paramedics had already left with the poor man's body and I was met at the door by one of the gentleman's

family members. She was pretty upset and I did my best to assure her that I would clean the scene so well she wouldn't be able to tell what had happened there. She just nodded and pointed to the bathroom. Taking the hint, I entered it to assess the extent of the work needed and once I was sure of what I would need, I went back out to my truck to get my suit and cleaning supplies. When I re-entered the home, I was met in the hallway by a skinny and unkempt young man. Right off, I could tell by his body language that he was angry about something. He began by getting very close to me and pointing his finger in my face. Then he said,

Where have you been? It's been over an hour. Get in there and clean up that mess. He wasn't quite yelling but his voice was filled with aggression. I did the only thing I could do. I told him I had received the call when I was working across town and I got there as fast as possible and told him I was sorry. I'd try to work as quickly as I could so they could be left alone to grieve. The last part of that statement seemed to annoy him but he said nothing else.

Although he was being rude I blew it off because it wasn't the first time I had that experience with a family member. You have to remember that people deal with death in different ways and we come into their lives in a very difficult time. Due to the situation I got to work right away and attempted to finish as quickly as possible. Despite the fact that the man took his life with a shotgun the bathroom wasn't as bad as you would imagine. Since I didn't have someone helping me the cleaning took me a little longer than usual but I still managed to finish in a few hours. Once I'd completed my work I joined the female loved one in the living room to leave her paperwork and to tell her if she had noticed anything that I had missed, to call the company and someone would come over and take care of it, regardless of the time, 24 hours a day, 365 days of the year we offer this.

It's an important thing to offer. No one's family should have to see anything that may remind them of the loss of their loved one. As she was showing me out, I expressed my personal condolences to her and we continued making small talk. As we passed down the main hall I noticed a photo on the wall of the young man that had encountered me earlier in the appointment. The picture reminded me of our interaction and I asked the woman to express my apologies to the male family member and to tell him I didn't intend to offend him. She stopped me for a moment and gave me a very puzzled look. Her face confused me, and I began to explain her discussion when she stopped me

and assured me that she was the only other person in the house. Now I was really baffled. She asked me to describe the gentleman, and I walked back over to the photo of him on the wall and pointed to him. When I did this, her expression changed into one of disgust and she told me in a loud voice to show myself out. As she said this she stood beet red while pointing at the front door. I had obviously done something to make her angry and I wanted to avoid making things worse so without a word I left the house as quickly as I could. Her reaction had me downright puzzled. I was at a loss how I offended her

so I chalked the whole day up to being one of those strange ones and headed home for the day. One or two times over the next few days I would find myself playing her reaction to me over and over in my head. Ultimately I decided that either I was confusing that interaction with a different person or I was playing wrong. With that conclusion I chose to put the whole scene out of my head. Then two days later I was reading the local paper as I did every morning before work and when I came to the obituaries a particular picture made me choke on my coffee. When I looked again the face looking back at me was the same one in that picture in that hallway. Once I fully composed myself I read the copy below the picture and

came to a horrifying realization. Either I was losing my mind or I just had a conversation with the victim himself the same one who had just blown himself away in that bathroom a mere six hours before. Now I've never been a believer in any sort of afterlife once you die the lights just go out but no matter what I believe in I'd had a conversation with a dead man. No matter how I try to explain it away, that's what happened. Of course, I haven't told anyone else about this. That's the beauty of anonymity. None of you know me personally, therefore, no matter if you think I'm nuts or not, it can't affect my professional life. I realize fairly quickly in this line of work that if you say or do certain things to certain people, they become suspicious

that the job is starting to affect you psychologically and I can see the possibility of this occurring. However, I can promise you all here I am completely sane. Then again, crazy people never think they're crazy. As you can see this has freaked me out. I even had a dream that I spoke to him again but this time you could see through his head where the buckshot went through. I need some input and this is the only place I feel safe enough to ask for it. And before any of you say that I made the whole thing up, you can just screw right off. I am 100% serious about this and the doubts of my sanity aside, I can guarantee this happened to me, or at least I think it did. Like I said earlier,

I'm asking for people's accounts of these types of interactions. Is anyone aware of this sort of thing happening? Without any believable stories from other members of the sub I'll write this off as a stress caused illusion but I need to know. Either way I have to discover the truth because not knowing may drive me crazy itself. This story is painful to tell and I'm hardly sure where to start, but I'm hoping that sharing it with others will help me cope. It's a long and complicated story, but I'll try to keep it simple. When I was in 7th grade a new kid came to my school, we'll call him Chris. He was a year older than me and was quiet and awkward but he shared many of the same interests as my friends and me so we welcomed him into our little group of outcasts and he and I quickly became

close friends. We stayed friends for nearly 10 years and I considered him to be my best friend for most of that time. However, through the years I noticed some things that were off about Chris. He would threaten to end his own life over arguments that really were not a big deal and he hardly made any effort to keep in touch with any of us. But we all liked him so we contacted him often to hang out. I had actually started to develop a crush on him during the summer between 8th and 9th grade so I texted him and hung out with him any chance I could. Eventually Chris drifted away from most of our friend group telling me he didn't like them and I was the only one who he really bothered to talk to anymore.

When he was around 17 years old Chris was diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder. This wasn't a surprise to me, as he had previously told me about how he had drowned a chipmunk just to watch it die, and had actually planned to hurt a girl in 6th grade at his school over some trivial disagreement that I don't recall. He told me how he never really felt that he cared for anyone except me and that I was his only real friend. You're probably thinking I'm stupid for having continued to talk to Chris and you're probably right. However, I was deep into the worst depression I had ever experienced in my life. I have schizoaffective disorder and Chris and I shared every ugly twisted dark secret we had ever

had with each other. We had experienced everything together from the family vacation I had invited him to in eighth grade to the substance abuse spiral we both found ourselves in throughout our teenage years. It felt like we were the only ones who understood each other. We both came from abusive households and suffered from severe mental illness and at this point I even thought I was full on in love with him. So I constantly tried to rationalize and make up excuses for all the terrible things Chris would do and he wasn't just terrible to others, he would be nasty to me too. For example, I was once having a panic attack and felt that I was on the verge of seriously

harming myself but when I called him for support, he said something along the lines of, dude, I don't know what to tell you but I'm busy right now, okay? And hung up. I should also mention that throughout these years, Chris showed vague, on and off romantic affection for me and we were even intimate with each other when I was 18 and he was 19. He had a boyfriend at the time and despite the fact that Chris treated him like garbage I did feel guilty but like I said I was at a very very low point in my life. The scary part of this story happened only a few weeks later. It was late at night and Chris and I were walking back to his house from the movie theater in his city. He received a call from his boyfriend who will call

Tim. Tim said that he had an argument with his father and wanted to spend the night. It was well known that Tim and I really didn't like each other but Chris agreed anyway and told me what was going on after he hung up. I was visibly a little upset but I knew that Tim had nowhere else to go so I reluctantly said okay. After a few minutes Chris started to fall behind me a bit. I didn't slow down for him and I did look behind me every once in a while because although he was my friend I knew that Chris had a violent tendency which always concerned me at least a little bit. He abruptly stopped by a bridge and looked over the water, gesturing for me to come look. I looked but kept my distance

because he seemed to be acting kind of odd and I was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. I knew he always carried a pocket knife and though I wasn't sure if it was just my anxiety acting up, I suspected he had darker intentions than just watching the river flow. When he realized I wasn't coming any closer, he casually stepped away from the fence on the bridge and we walked back to his house. Fast forward about a week. Chris and I were talking to each other on Skype and because the incident still concerned me, I asked him outright. So, I know you thought about hurting other people before. Have you ever thought about hurting me? You can be honest, I don't actually care. I still don't know how he fell for that, it's pretty obvious that I cared.

He hesitated before saying, yeah. And he avoided looking at the screen. When? The other day. Was it when we were standing by the bridge? Yeah. He started to pick at his fingernails. What were you going to do? This is mostly just morbid curiosity on my part. He finally looked up as he said, I was going to come up behind you and slit your throat and push you into the river. After some awkward silence, the conversation steered in a different direction and I pretended to act normal and calm while we spent the night talking as we normally would. However, for the next few months I was a wreck. I knew what he had said and done was unbelievably

wrong but he was my best friend. I couldn't bring myself to pull away from him. Looking back I now know that it was so difficult to leave him partially due to my own illnesses and insecurities but also partially due to his manipulation. In May 2018, the day before my birthday, I finally cut ties with him. I had been avoiding contact with him for about a week prior and he noticed. He texted me asking what was wrong and after a series of long texts back and forth in which I explained why I was done with him. He just begged for my forgiveness repeatedly trying to say how much he cared about me. The conversation stopped.

It just stopped. Ten years of friendship gone just like that. I was so distraught that night that I actually attempted to take my own life but fortunately I survived and almost a year later I'm almost completely over him. Almost. I still panic when I see anybody with bright red hair and I still can't bring myself to visiten my chances of running into him. I haven't seen him in almost a year but I'm still afraid that one day I'll see him again and if there's one thing I know about Chris it's that he can hold a grudge. My mother is mentally ill. She's diagnosed bipolar and paranoid schizophrenic. That said, she wasn't officially diagnosed until I was 13, which was when the story takes place. Even before this incident, it was clear that she wasn't in her right mind. Her paranoia was religious in nature and not surprisingly she was an evangelical Christian. I'm not bashing them, it's just that they can be one of the more

extreme versions of Christianity. From all accounts her illness did not begin until I was five, around the time that she had lost both parents within a month of each other. My parents got divorced when I was nine and her illness was so clear that they actually gave my dad custody, which was unusual as the courts tended to favor the mother back then. After the divorce she took a turn for the worst. She had a large walk-in closet in her new apartment and she covered the walls and floor to ceiling in scriptures written on construction paper. She called it her prayer closet. We would spend hours in that closet praying. I spent hours locked in that closet as punishment for transgressions, real or imagined. She began to tell me when I was nine years old that the devil

had planned to get me pregnant. I think I can best sum up the situation by comparing her behavior to the behavior of the mother in the movie Carrie Now on to the actual story Her visitation had been every other weekend and weeknight on the off weekends But when I was 12 I was legally able to decide whether I wanted to go over there for the visitation or not And I had stopped going for regular visitations I did still see her occasionally and receive phone calls from her so it wasn't strange when one Friday night, that technically should have been her weekend, she called me up to beg me to come over. I had already told her that I wasn't going

to come visit that weekend. I had made plans to spend the night with a friend. She begged me repeatedly telling me that there was something very important that she needed to talk to me about but I was firm and told her that I had plans with a friend and that I wasn't going to cancel. I said that maybe I would come over the next day, Saturday. She refused to accept no as my answer and I ended up hanging up on her and eventually had to take the phone off the hook because she kept calling back. The next day we received a call from the local hospital telling us, my dad and I, that we were listed as my mother's next of kin and that she had been admitted to the psych ward. She wanted us to go to her apartment to pick up some personal items and bring them to her. I said we would. We arrived at her apartment and found a garbage bag sitting

outside her door which was not strange in and of itself. What was a little strange was the picture fragment of me that had apparently fallen out of the bag. That was what made me open the bag. My dad and I were shocked to find that the garbage was full of me. Pictures from albums, school papers and projects she saved. Things that I had made or brought her. As complicated as my relationship had been with her I was devastated. We went in the apartment and just stared. It was completely trashed. Just a larger version of what the trash bag outside had held. Literally everything that had anything to do with me was destroyed and strewn around her whole apartment. There was nothing to do but collect the requested items and wait to see if the doctor at the hospital could shed any light on this bizarre scene. In the process of gathering her things I found a more current photo of myself and it was by far the most disturbing thing about the situation.

It was a large school photo and she had scribble scratched my eyes and mouth out. There was also a large knife stuck in the middle of my chest, pinning the picture to the dresser. It was embedded in the wood. We left and when we arrived at the hospital we were called in by her attending psych doctor. He explained that she had been brought in by an ambulance the night before after the police had been called by several neighbors reporting a woman banging on their door and begging them to help her in the name of Jesus because the devil was going to kill her. When the police arrived they found her praying hysterically holding a butcher's knife. She had found some random unlocked car and had locked herself in it.

The doctor said that she wasn't making a lot of sense when she had arrived and they had to give her a sedative as well as an antipsychotic. Between what the doctor told us and what my now properly medicated mother told me when I visited with her later, here's what I pieced together. God said that I made a pact with Satan, and if I stole her soul for him, he would have not impregnated me. He told her to perform an exorcism on me. Satan was in my heart, and to release me, she would need to open my heart. But once it was made clear to her that I wasn't coming over that night, an angel would come and instructed her to destroy everything that had anything to do with

me. It also told her that in my absence it might be possible to perform the exorcism using a particular picture instead. He told her to destroy the eyes and mouth so that I and Satan couldn't see her or speak to her. Then to use the knife to, you guessed it, open my heart. This had made Satan angry and he sent demons to her apartment so she had to run out to find help. I'm glad that in the end the incident did actually lead her to help that she so desperately needed I am a female, 17 years of age I'm very petite, weighing about 100 pounds, standing at 5 foot 3 I recently joined my local gym around

January of 2019 and have started a routine of when I go to work out. I go every day except Monday around 6 p.m. and stay for an hour or two depending on the day. Anyone who goes to the gym on a regular basis notices others around them and gets familiar with what times and machines others like to work out on. And if a new person comes, you usually will notice. My point is that you get used to these people being in the gym with you, whether or not you communicate with them. As a girl who goes to the gym, from my experience, you will get the occasional glance from a weirdo or make awkward eye contact with someone staring at you in the mirror. What all you can do for that is stare back at them dead in the eyes and give the nastiest look of disgust. Now the time that I go to the gym is about when everyone starts to leave. I am very

anti-social and shy so this works out great for me or so I had thought. I also figured having some alone time would be nice and if something were to happen, they have cameras everywhere. Stupid way to think, I know, but knowing that you have to have a keycard to get into the gym and one to get out was somewhat of a comfort along with the cameras. For this last month of me doing my workouts, I got this weird vibe from this one random guy who we'll call Randy. And like I said you usually get people looking at you so it's hard to tell if someone is truly a great threat or just someone being a creep. Either way both are bad things but it's difficult to distinguish the

two. I told my mom about this Randy guy because my gut was telling me something and I felt I needed some advice. She told me we should tell the manager and have them kick him out. But me being naive and nice I didn't want to kick a guy out for just giving me the creeps and I didn't think it was a good argument at the time. I started to notice some of the other girls weren't coming as regularly as they would. I brushed this off thinking that they either had work or were out of town. None of my business I know, but it was something to take note of. The staff at my gym leaves around 6.30 and I started to notice that Randy was coming in almost exactly when the manager and staff would leave.

I didn't pay too much attention to this, as he could just be a regular person trying to work out at a specific time due to his job or something. Huge mistake. The reason for me trying to rationalize this was because I constantly saw Randy, so I considered him to be one of the regulars. Now this is where the story actually begins. I went to do my daily workout and the manager, let's call her Alyssa, came up and talked to me about some of the other girls who worked out at the same time I did. Apparently these girls filed a complaint about Randy secretly recording them while they worked out. The girls changed their workout schedule due to Randy which

explains why I saw less of them. She asked me if I had seen any man holding their phone up to their chest and walking with the camera pointing outwards and I said no but I told Alyssa about how this random man Randy was starting to creep me out and she said that she would look into it and keep me updated on the situation especially since I'm underage. The next day Alyssa talked to me and said that one of the girls who complained about him pointed him out on their cameras and that she was going to wait for Randy to come into the gym and kick him out. I left that night not knowing what happened because Alyssa was still waiting after I left. I came back to the gym the next Tuesday and Alyssa told me everything that had gone down. She had said that she waited till Randy and his buddy, who we we'll call Kyle came to the gym and

were parked outside. Alyssa had a friend who was a sheriff and looked Randy's license plate up and to both their surprise he was a registered offender and had been put on probation. Alyssa then found out that Randy didn't even have a keycard meaning he was not a member at my gym and shouldn't have been using the gym period. His friend Kyle had a keycard and was letting Randy in and they would work out at the same time and wait for the staff to leave. Alyssa prohibited both men from entering the gym again and kicked them out. The scary thing is that I remember being alone in that gym with these two guys very often. They blended in very well and I considered them a normal workout person I saw constantly. I'm still not sure if I was recorded by Randy or Kyle but

but Alyssa told me that she was going to look through the footage and let me know of any other news such as him recording me not knowing. It's terrifying to think that I got accustomed you could say with these guys being at the gym so regularly. I'm so thankful that Alyssa kept me informed on the situation. As terrifying as it is, it just shows you that you should always be aware of what's going on around you and trust your instincts. It also shows to never trust anyone you think you might know. As stupid as it sounds, it's easy to get comfy with people we see every day, even if we don't know them. But who knows what might have happened if I caught Randy and Kyle alone again. Please be careful and cautious at all times. Never judge anyone to be a

good or bad person until you know them. You never know who might be out there to hurt you when you least expect it. In late May of 2018 when I was 21, I had been on Tinder for about a month or so and matched with this guy. He had this dark look about him and I was kind of attracted to it. Brown eyes and curly hair. He almost reminded me of a cult leader or something, in a non-weird way. We started chatting about the music that we were into and the way he typed or spoke over text just gave off a weird vibe, I don't know why. So I never replied and unmatched him.

Later on I came back across his profile and decided to give him another chance because I thought maybe I was overreacting. We matched again and ended up hanging out in real life. He couldn't drive so I picked him up and we went to the park. We sat in my car for hours talking and laughing. He was kind of a jerk but I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. At the end of the night he asked me if I could stop off at the KFC drive-thru and order his food. I thought that was weird but I did it anyway because I felt too awkward to say no. A couple of days later we hung out at his house and just watched movies and stuff. He gave off some red flags but again I

chose to ignore it for the fear of just being shy or dramatic. He would tell me about his ex-girlfriends and shame them in any way he could and make up lavish stories that I knew were lies. He didn't have a job and live with his parents. He was super into computer programming and discord, reddit, live streaming and the like. He'd tell me about his friends online and how some of them are criminals and stuff. I just brushed it off as another story. We hung out a couple of days later at his house again and I didn't know it then but this night would change my life and how I look at people. I always tried to see the best in everyone, mainly focusing on the positive and wanting to help everybody, but now so much more hesitant now.

I got to his home and we were watching movies again, talking and his stories were becoming more wild and unusual. I was getting kind of bored so we started making out and doing things. I had never gotten physical with anyone before him. After we were done we were laying down and talking for hours. We talked about our dreams and life stories and I told him about my dreams of moving to California and starting my new life there. A goal I've had my entire life and feel very personal and strongly about it. He told me how stupid I was for wanting to leave our city and move all the way out to the west to pursue my dreams and life.

He told me when he was younger, his doctor always told him he was manipulative and had sociopathic tendencies. He got into lots of trouble at school. I was on edge. I didn't like how unsupportive and cruel he was being about it all and how upset he was getting so I got a little emotional and started to put my shoes on and tell him I had to go. He apologized and I ended up staying. We got into our beliefs after that. I am a liberal and a practicing pagan witch. I told him I'm finally happy with myself and proud of who I'd become. He started to tell me the only reason I practice my craft in politics is to get

back at my parents and I don't really believe those things. That I'm uneducated in both and don't think for myself. I'm just doing this to get a rise out of my family, which is not true. He told me that all liberals are evil and believe in white genocide and that if I identified as a liberal then I believe and support that. I disagreed with him and we started to argue. Somehow he got into talking about Hitler and how the holocaust didn't even happen and the Jews made it up. I asked him if I was a Jew would he hurt me and he pretty much said yes. He said the most violently racist things and used horrible slurs. I'm freaking out at this point and wanting to leave. He said that

Hitler was misunderstood and the Jewish leaders made up the whole thing because they wanted more power. That none of the proof of the holocaust was ever true and if I ever believed that it happened I was stupid and ignorant. Every time I tried to defend myself and tell him he was trying to play mind tricks he would blame me and say I'm trying to manipulate him. I started to cry. I couldn't control my emotions and started to have a panic attack and trying to leave but I stood at his door afraid and wanting to cool things down before I left because I didn't want him to be angry at me for fear of retaliation. I told him I didn't want to leave mad so I sat down and was still crying. He told me he understood I was upset but had to shut up and stop making a scene because he didn't want his parents to wake

up that I was being really loud and dramatic. The way he was trying to play my mind was so creepy and I felt so unsafe. I had to get out of there because I really felt like he was about to become violent. I said I was leaving and he told me not to go but I got out of his house I really felt like he was about to become violent. I said I was leaving and he told me not to go but I got out of his house as fast as I could. When I got outside it was becoming light out by this time about 6am. I ran to my car and pressed the gas pedal as hard as I could to get out of his street. I drove zigzagged so he couldn't find me if he decided to follow me. I ended up in a strip mall parking lot. I couldn't see anything because I was crying so hard. I couldn't breathe. I called my mom and

apologized to her over and over and she helped me calm down and came to pick me up. I was traumatized. He kept texting me saying how sorry he was and that he didn't mean it. It was because he was tired. He told me to text him as soon as possible. After talking with my mom I decided just to tell him I was really hurt by the things he said and don't want to go any further in this relationship. He left me alone for about a day or two. I was on vacation with mom and my sister and was just trying to get him out of my head and forgot about what happened which proved to be extremely hard as I have a panic disorder and severe anxiety. He started texting me again about how sorry he was and after I told him I don't want to be with him he started blaming me. He sent text after text about how I completely abandoned him

after only knowing him for a week and that I gave up on him because I found someone better and ditched him which was not true. That he has no friends and he needs friends and he'll never get better if I don't stay and try to make things work. I was terrified. I was trying to be patient and calm about it. I told him it wasn't that. I'm just not ready for a relationship and it wasn't going to work right now. He wasn't having it so I told him it wasn't that. I'm just not ready for a relationship and it wasn't going to work right now. He wasn't having it so I blocked his number. He texted me from a made up number yelling at me for blocking him and how I can't be an adult and face him. That I was just hooking up with some other guy. I told him I wasn't and blocked him again. He made up a new number and texted me that

he's going to run a facial recognition software on my face to make sure I wasn't back blocked him again. He made up a new number and texted me that he's going to run a facial recognition software on my face to make sure I wasn't back on Tinder or another app. Luckily I deleted all of them the day he went insane on me. There was a lot more but I blocked out so much over time. I ended up just ignoring him and he went away like that. I would get triggered and have panic attacks about it for the next few months. Eventually I ended up mostly forgetting what he looked like and tried to repress all the memories of that night and the nights after. I was okay again and even went on a couple of more dates with new people. Until yesterday, March 23rd, 2019, I was watching the news with my mom right before work and a mugshot of him appeared on the screen.

Man arrested for terroristic threats on Facebook. Messages sent about wanting to blow up 9,000 good kiddies at a school. Asking how many explosives it would take to end them all. I ran up to my steps and broke down. I couldn't breathe and was panicking worse than I have since the night with him almost a year ago. He looked so deranged and different. His mugshot was almost identical to the infamous Charles Manson one. I felt so scared and sick to my stomach. I had to hold back from throwing up. I knew one day I would see him on the news for something. I knew he looked like Charles Manson. I knew I had a bad feeling about him from the beginning and

I went along with it ignoring my intuition. I thought it was over-dramatizing it for months and it wasn't as bad as I thought it was. That maybe in hindsight it wasn't as scary as it was while it was happening. My friends thought I was being overly sensitive, but no. Everything I thought in the beginning was right, and I should have trusted my gut. All the memories, guilt, regret, and trauma is back now. Since yesterday, I've been so scared and anxious. I can't get his face out of my mind. I have to keep rereading the article because I can't believe it. I mean I can. I knew he would get caught for his actions eventually I just can't believe it happened so soon and for something so insane. I've been thinking about posting my story here since it happened last year but never thought anyone would understand how chilling it truly was until he got arrested.

Guys, be safe when you online date. If the person seems off, they probably are. Trust your first instinct. So this happened when I was in junior high, around 8th grade I believe. I'm 16 now and this experience still makes my skin shudder. For some background to this story, I went to a fairly large junior high. The kids I went to school with were extremely immature and tended to get into excessive amounts of trouble, just like you'd expect from junior high students. To try and keep the students under control during passing periods, some teachers would monitor the hallways until the late bell would ring after each period. My last period happened to be math. The teacher monitoring the hallways in the part of the school

where the cluster of math classrooms were was named Mr. Donaldson. Mr. Donaldson was a severely overweight man in his mid-forties who wore beige khakis and a skin-tight polo shirt every day. He was so fat his eyes were hooded from his forehead fat weighing down on his eyelids. Most everybody was either terrified of Mr. Donaldson or loved him for his loud personality. I, still being extremely insecure and shy in junior high, was very intimidated by him. He was always yelling jokes in the hallways and high-fiving kids as they made their way to class. He sounds friendly, I know, but I was extremely shy. I was a very early bloomer, 5'11 with double D cups already and had a curvy figure. However, I still had some awkward baby fat on my face and waist and had braces that did not

suit me at all. Yeah, I wasn't really what you'd consider attractive back then. Being so tall and having hit puberty so young, I stood out from everyone and was extremely awkward. My social anxiety tended to get the best of me when I'd pass Mr. Donaldson in the hallways. He'd always greet me and flash me with a smile and I just flashed a small smile in response and hurried to my class. There were reasons to be scared of this man other than the fact that he had a booming personality. He'd had scandals with students in his classes, specifically students I knew. One of my friends who was in his fourth period told me that while she was doing her homework,

Mr. Donaldson gave her a sly smile when walked over to her. She hadn't noticed that while she was working her bra strap slid down on her shoulder, but he had. When he made his way back into the back of the classroom where she was, he hooked his finger under her bra strap, pulled it back up, and chuckled when it slapped against her arm. She was too scared to tell anyone other than me and a few other students about this occurrence. Mr. Donaldson always made inappropriate jokes towards female students too. One time a wiener was drawn on one of the desk seats and a girl sat down

without realizing and Mr. Donaldson made a sick joke which surprisingly never got reported. One day I was walking to math class and Mr. Donaldson was monitoring the hallways per usual. I felt his stare on me but when I didn't look at him in the eye, he flagged me down. Wow, you're so tall, he exclaimed. He asked me about my height, to which I responded that I was 5'11". Do you play volleyball? No, basketball. I smiled politely despite feeling uncomfortable.

He paused, looked me up and down and then said lowly, yeah I bet you do. You've got nice and long legs that are perfect for something like that. My stomach churned. I laughed awkwardly and then sped walked into my class. That was that. He didn't talk to me for the rest of the year besides staring at me at times with a look which I couldn't quite read. Fast forward to my sophomore year of high school. Some of my friends whom I'd known since junior high pulled me aside at lunch and were frantically asking me questions. Hey, do you remember Mr. Donaldson from middle school? I shuddered at the thought of that creepy old kook.

I told them I did and they were freaking out. They told me he'd been fired and arrested for being caught with inappropriate images of children on his computer and for touching students inappropriately without their consent, all of whom were too scared to report him. A picture even leaked that a student took of him having a rock-hard stiffy during one of his classes and staring at a female student while trying to control himself at his desk. To say that I felt absolutely disgusted was an understatement. When he was arrested he pled guilty and in his statement he had stated that he had pleasured himself to these pictures in his classroom after school because he was too afraid to do it at home

in fear of being caught by his wife or daughter. Remembering my encounter with Mr. Donaldson seemed insignificant compared to other unfortunate experience that other girls had to go through with him, but just remembering the way he slyly commented on my legs and the look he gave me, it makes my stomach twist in an unsettling way every time. Mr. Donaldson, you sick monster. I hope you rot in jail and never come in contact with a child ever again. I have many stories, but my biggest one would be basically my entire childhood. Forgive me if I seem like I'm rambling at times, there are about eight years of pent-up terror this house ensued on my family and I, and these are just a few stories throughout those years.

I am the youngest of three girls, we'll call the oldest Sister A and the middle Sister B. The house was a seemingly quiet ranch-style home. Three bedrooms upstairs and three down. My sisters and I had the rooms upstairs and my parents had the entire basement to themselves, which they enjoyed quite fondly. The house always felt off. For instance, just walking in the door brought on a great feeling of despair, but intensified the further downstairs you went. But I was five or six when we first moved in, so I didn't pay much mind to the fact. You would hear footsteps not only at night, but anytime during the day. Running coming from up the stairs, but no person to accompany them. Lights turning on and off, items disappearing,

the usual hauntly things. The most frequent happening would be the overwhelming feeling of being watched, especially in the bedroom. The feeling became so uncomfortable that my sisters and I would often bathe and accompany each other in the bathroom to not feel so vulnerable. If you had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, you better hold it or rush hoping whatever was watching you wouldn't catch you. I became accustomed to not drinking right before bed. My room was my sanctuary, like any growing girls would be. While laying in bed one night trying to fall asleep, I heard voices coming from the closet. Very distinct children voices echoing from behind the heavy wooden doors. I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath,

hoping that would make them go away. I heard, shh, she'll hear us. As I bursted my tear-pricked eyes open, there, not even three feet in front of me, stood the apparition of two children, a boy and a girl, wearing clothes obviously not from the 1990s era that this happened in. Their faces shrouded from the shadows of my nightlight and they appeared to stare into my soul. I screamed so loud, my sister came tearing into the door and held me tight. I tried to stammer out what happened, but my voice was entirely too shaken to even make sense. From that night on, I slept in B's room, too afraid to be alone in there now as well. While B and I were doing chores one day, I was alone in the dreaded bathroom, scrubbing the bathroom when suddenly I felt a strong press on my shoulder and heard several loud pops followed by a sizzling sound. I turned around to gloss over the sink and three light bulbs flickering until they burn out completely. I scrambled to my feet only to be shoved down sharply before B came strolling by to take something to her room. I ran out and proceeded to tell my dad, who in turn scolded me for breaking

the lights. As the years progressed, the countless entities made their presence known. So far there were the two children in my room, the old man who watched you bathe. I've never seen him actually just more felt him and another one Tessa. Tessa was a teenage girl who wore a cowboy hat cut off jeans and a white buttoned shirt. She had long blonde hair but always hid her face from me with the brim of her hat. She would only show herself for a brief second for me and hustle back down the stairs in the blink of an eye. I later found out from my mom that the old man kidnapped Tessa and kept her in the crawlspace under the stairs until pressure grew too much before ending her life and stuffing her body in the fireplace

downstairs. I'm guessing she never showed me her face because it was so badly burned and she didn't want to frighten me but my mom has claimed to see her face several times. We had a friend of my mom's come in who was a self-proclaimed psychic to assess the house. She said it was a portal and there was an abundance of negative energy there. She said there were souls that were trapped in the house as well as some that were simply passing by. She managed to rid the children but Tessa and George as we called him stayed. We continued to live in the house until we could no longer bear it and put it up for sale moving out shortly after. Honestly I'm surprised we stayed as long as we did. Apparently now a family moved in who used to be seen outside

playing and spending time together, only to succumb to the evils of the house itself. I hope one day to be rich enough still felt the overwhelming urge to share it. My childhood friend who I'll call Tanya is currently attending school at a very well-known university in the Midwest. This past year she recently rented an apartment not too far from the campus with a roommate who I'll refer to as Reagan. It's a small but homey two-bedroom apartment and quite new. The apartment complex was built within the last five years so there shouldn't have been nothing to preface this type of paranormal behavior. It all began a few months into living there when they would wake up in the

morning and the door to their apartment would be wide open. Thinking that one of them just forgot to shut it all the way after coming home late from a party, they thought nothing of it. But it kept happening. They were positive that they were shutting and locking it each night. What they thought was just a strange occurrence turned out to be a full-on poltergeist. The next thing that happened, as cliche as it sounds, was that all the cabinets and drawers in their kitchen would be open. They would come stumbling out of their rooms after hearing banging, only to see some sixth sense stuff in front of them. They regularly began to hear heavy footsteps outside of their rooms and rapid banging on their doors.

Despite this sounding absolutely terrifying, it gets worse. Tanya and Regan would often talk to each other through the walls, as their rooms were right next to each other. Them both being lazy college kids, it avoided having to get up and walk to the other room. My friend Tanya was out for the night with her boyfriend when she gets a text from her roommate. Hey, thanks so much for understanding why I can't go to that party with you tomorrow night. My friend just replies with a question mark, not knowing what she was talking about. Tanya then gets a call from Reagan. Reagan starts the conversation by sarcastically asking why Tanya is playing dumb.

We just talked like five minutes ago about the party. You said it was cool if I didn't go. Tanya was completely unaware of that whole conversation. Five minutes ago, she was out eating pizza with her boyfriend. Tanya explains that she hasn't been home for hours and doesn't know what she's talking about. Reagan began to hyperventilate and cry out. Then who was talking to me through the wall? Apparently the voice had sounded just like my friend Tanya which is why Reagan wasn't suspicious. I'm not sure if it's common for a spirit to be able to completely copy a person's voice or if they are dealing with something completely different. If anyone knows, please let me know so that I can help them deal with their issue, but it doesn't stop there. A similar

situation happened to Tanya. It was late at night and she was studying in her room. Regan is a music major and often has to practice her scales at night. Tanya can always hear her humming melodious tunes through the wall. That night, as usual, she heard Regan humming her scales and thought nothing of it. It always soothed her while she was cramming for her next big test. It wasn't until the singing slowly started to get deeper and deeper until there was absolutely no way that those notes could have been sung by a small 120 pound woman. Impressed, Tanya goes into Regan's room to ask how she was able to hit such a low note. When she opened the door to her room, it was completely empty. Her roommate had been out for the night visiting friends.

Tanya said she was so scared she didn't sleep in the apartment for a week. My friend said that these occurrences are so frequent now that they just become a normal thing in her life. She has begun to get less perturbed by the footsteps outside her room and the voices she hears on the other side of the wall. One thing Tanya cannot seem to get used to is that when things will vanish in her apartment, these occurrences frighten her the most. I was confused when she told me this. Why would things go missing scare her so much? She explained to me that it was not something small like keys or jewelry going missing. It was giant lamps, chairs, coffee pots, and mirrors. She told me something that has enough power to make a thing as big as a chair completely vanish and then reappear days later is truly concerning.

If it can affect an object as big as that, what is it stopping from physically harming her? My dad's side of the family lives in Cuenavaca, Mexico, while my mom's family lived in California. My friends fell in love from the same Californian high school, got married, and both decided to start a family in the U.S. Shortly after settling in, I was born. Both sides of the family can be clingy, so in order to avoid any dispute about visitation, my parents thought it would be better to visit my father's family every winter and summer vacation. I had no problem with it. I enjoyed spending time with family members, cousins, participating in posadas and other holiday traditions. My younger sister was born when I was seven, but that didn't stop visiting trips. It wasn't younger sister was born when I was seven but that didn't stop visiting trips. It wasn't until it abruptly stopped when I turned nine. I felt weirded out.

I would ask my parents why we couldn't visit each time but each time they would say various excuses that never made any sense. Your grandma is sick. I say it didn't make sense because grandma from Mexico would always call to talk to me, see how I was doing and to persuade my parents to visit her. Obviously she wasn't sick. I slowly began to give up on repeating my question to get the same answer. It wasn't until I was preparing a trip overseas for summer school that my parents sat me down and told me the truth, the real reason why we stopped visiting. On our last day in Mexico we usually called a van cab to help with luggage and transport us to the airport in Mexico City. It was quite a drive from Cuenavaca to Mexico City so I would always stare at the window for a good half hour eventually dozing off.

According to my parents, things were as usual until a vehicle that was off on the road began to follow them. The cab driver noticed and thought it was just a highway patrol checking to see that there's no suspicious activity. My dad knew something was off. First it was unmarked, kept following at a certain distance, and made the same turns the cab driver was making. Finally, the cab driver had enough and pulled over where he confronted the man following us, but as soon as my dad saw the man's back seat open, he yelled to the cab driver to get back in the van and drive. Thankfully, when he pulled over, he left the car on so no need to restart the

van, and we sped off. My mom said I kept slowly waking up during the chase and simply told me the road was bumpy and to go back to sleep as she covered my ears and wrapped me in a blanket with my sister by my side. After reaching just a few hundred meters to Mexico City, the men were no longer behind us. My parents knew if they became hysterical when my sister and I woke up it would just make the situation highly unnecessary so they don't speak a word about it. My dad jokingly gave the driver a huge tip and thanked him a million times for that narrow escape. Two days passed after the incident and my mother was watching a television channel and looked in horror at a breaking news headline. A family of five were found dead with machete marks on the same road we took to get to Mexico City and the two suspects that were in custody were the same two men that

tried to chase us. She called my dad immediately and cried softly as my sister and I were playing outside. Since then they were terrified to go to Mexico. The thought of that just aches my heart of how life can turn for the worse in an instance. I had no clue that that was going on. I only wish that my parents would have reported it to the police, but of how corrupted it was and still is now, it would have been meaningless. For the unfortunate family that lost their lives to those awful men, I am sorry. And I send my condolences to their family. Please be careful out there. Not just in Mexico, but in general.

Anything can happen, even in daylight. If the cab driver had turned off the engine completely when he pulled over, we wouldn't be here. This happened around five years ago in the area I grew up in. Back then I was up to no good but I have since turned my life around. At the time I was one of very few people that moved large amounts of pain pills in the city. The rest of the people trying to move these pills had them imported from sketchy people from around the world so you didn't always get what you paid for and the strength would vary a lot. I managed to get a hold of real ones from within the country and still in their original

packaging. Word quickly got around and I wasn't very well liked since I guess I took business from people. This incident happened on a hot summer's day and I decided to go to the park to relax. Where I lived there was a main road with apartments on both sides. In front of my complex there was a parking lot. To the right of the parking lot was another set of apartments with trees separating that complex from another. I was walking in the wooded area between the two complexes as a shortcut to get to the park. So I'm just walking minding my own business when I start hearing gunshots. They sounded really close so I hid behind a huge tree. I didn't really know what

was going on but looking around I could see the foliage around me move with each gunshot. In retrospect, I guess it's pretty obvious but hindsight is 20-20. I waited for silence and then peeked behind the tree to see what was going on. I managed to get a quick peek of a guy holding a gun, leaning back into his apartment. Change of plans here, I ended up running back to my block as fast as I could when I then slowed down. Pretty bummed out at this point, I really wanted to go to the park. At this point, I'm not sure where to go. Home might have been a good idea, but before I was able to give it much more thought, I saw two guys appear behind me. Feeling a bit uneasy, understandable perhaps, I'm keeping my eye on these guys and just keep walking like I know where I'm going.

It was weird, they didn't really talk to each other, and they kind of split up on the walking path still heading towards me. This is when I start to realize that something definitely isn't right. I up my walking pace to test it out. That's when one of them reached for something in his pocket or waistline. I couldn't really tell because I just took off again. I still didn't know where to go but I ended up deciding to go to my childhood friend's apartment which was on the other end of this area. Her apartment complex had a code which she usually kept me up to date on since we'd hang out a lot, but back then, I'm not sure if it's still like this, but the code changed every few months or so. I finally make it to her apartment and punch in the code.

Wrong code. So I try again. Wrong code again. So now I'm panicking because I can't see the guys anymore and I can't get into this stupid building. I called her phone and luckily she was home and buzzed me in. I ran up the stairs and explained the situation when I got inside. We played cards and just hung out till the evening. She offered to walk me home but I declined. It just felt a bit unnecessary to put her at possible risk. I ended up getting home safely.

A couple of weeks before this two people had picked me up and tried to carry me into their car while I was on my way to pick up some food that I had ordered. I have a feeling that they are the same people. But as I was struggling to get away I couldn't really see the shooter's faces very well. Probably from all the adrenaline. So this literally just happened like 25 minutes ago. It's not really a scary encounter or a scary story but it's unexplainable which makes it kind of scary, right? So ironically enough, I was just laying in bed listening to the Let's Read podcast on Spotify. Coincidence, I know.

So it was exactly 3am when all of a sudden a huge part of my room lit up, basically a huge flash or something. Normally I would say that's no big deal because there is a road outside my bedroom window where sometimes cars will pass by at some odd hours of the night. But what's weird is the fact that my window is completely blocked off by a curtain which won't even let sunlight shine through. Also I've checked all possible sources where the light could have come from. My laptop, xbox and LED keyboard all aren't capable of producing such a short and bright flash. They were all turned off, by the way. Maybe I'm just overreacting, but the fact that it happened at exactly 3am while I was listening to scary stories is enough to freak me out just a little. Needless to say, tonight I'll be sleeping with the next video. Join my Discord to interact with me and other listeners directly, and if you want to

support me even more, grab early access to all future narrations for just $1 a month on Patreon, and maybe even pick up some Let's Read merch on Spreadshirt. Links in the bio. Thanks so much, friends, and I'll see you again soon.