The Lets Read Podcast - 43: Episode 041 | Home Invasion & Fast Food Stories | 29 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: August 12, 2019

Welcome to the forty first 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 Cornered in a Mall, Home Invasions & Fast Food Horrors. 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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Find your pro at your local Tread Experts. From tires to auto repair, we're always there. TreadExperts.ca so this happened about five years ago when i was nine months pregnant i was christmas shopping at the mall with my then 7 and 15 year old daughters one saturday night in a very safe city with a very low crime rate there was an applebee's connected to the mall and we ended our shopping pretty late and the mall stores were starting to close. So I took my kids to the connected Applebee's for a late dinner. We finished up eating at about 10pm and leave out the Applebee's entrance in the practically deserted parking lot with shopping bags in tow. As we got to the car I was in the middle of maneuvering the shopping bags on

my arms to find my keys when a 50-ish year old crusty looking guy starts walking up from somewhere in the parking lot with shaggy gray white hair and a faded flannel shirt and old jeans. I noticed him briskly approaching when he was about 40 feet away and he said, this is a stick up, give me all your money. My blood ran cold and I stared at him owlishly and shakingly said, what? He then said he was just kidding and came up and stood right next to my daughters who were standing on the other side of the car waiting for me to unlock the car to let them in. He then starts making small talk with me and my girls. He is asking things like if they were being good girls for Santa, how old they were, if we got all our Christmas shopping done, what kind of things did we get. He didn't seem drunk, high, slow or mentally challenged at all. He was very

coherent and seemed of sound mind. Mind you, I was a heavily pregnant woman, alone with my two daughters in a mostly deserted parking lot at 10 o'clock at night, who was being approached by a stranger who came and stood right next to my kids on the other side of the car just shooting the breeze, talking to me and my kids with his hands in his pockets and occasionally looking over his shoulder. I didn't want to aggravate him so I was politely conversing with him and trying to look calm and nonchalant while trying to disguise my frantic hands digging inside my giant purse for my car keys. This exchange went on for a couple of minutes while

he periodically kept looking over his shoulder. I was silently panicking and trying to politely keep the situation from escalating by calmly and nonchalantly talking to him while also trying in vain to find my car keys to get us out of there. They were in there hiding good. I felt that at any moment he was going to pull a knife or gun or rob me and my kids were right next to him, away from their mother on the other side of the car, and I couldn't find my car keys to get my kids into the safety of the car. He kept trying to engage them in conversation, and I could see that my oldest daughter was a little weirded out, and she kept glancing at me to gauge my assessment and reaction to the situation. Kids often tend to not recognize potential danger when they're with their parents since they use us as their protectors and being that he was only talking and acting friendly and I was doing my best to stay calm they were oblivious to the alarming situation we all were in and being nine months pregnant and that I was no

match for this full-grown man, especially if he was hiding a weapon on him. While still desperately digging for my keys, I tried to politely give him hints that the conversation was over by saying things like, it was nice chatting with you, but I gotta get these kids to bed, and it was nice meeting you, and telling my girls to say that it was nice meeting him too. My polite attempts to get this guy to leave wasn't working because he kept sidestepping my attempts and asking them what their favorite school subjects are and how nice young ladies they were etc while I was struggling with the shopping bags and digging in my gigantic cluttered purse for my car keys. My outgoing seven-year-old was completely oblivious to how not okay the situation was,

because he was being friendly and because of the whole I'm-with-mommy-so-I'm-safe child mentality. So she started to talk about what she picked out for Daddy for Christmas and started enthusiastically talking about kid stuff and asking if he knew what Minecraft was etc and keeping this creep from leaving us alone by keeping him engaged in conversation. They didn't realize that I was becoming desperate to get them out of there. Then I suddenly felt this sinking feeling of dread when I realized that I may have lost my keys in the mall and that we were stuck outside with this strange man who kept looking over his shoulders

and was showing no signs of walking away and I was thinking that he was waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. All he had to do was grab one of my girls and threaten their life knowing it would make me do whatever he wanted as long as he wouldn't hurt them. I started to feel my adrenaline start to spike and my heart and stomach started doing flip-flops and I felt like at any moment something was going to go down as the gravity of realizing that there were no other people or witnesses around and that we were totally alone with him and at that moment the odds were stacked against us and that he has his chance. Then he all of a sudden was like,

alright it was nice talking with you see you later and walked off in the same direction to which he came. It wasn't until then I found my car keys and unlocked the car and told my kids to get in fast and I got in too and locked the doors and unlocked the car and told my kids to get in fast and I got in too and locked the doors and started the car and drove out of there. My 15 year old lightheartedly and jokingly said, Okay, that was weird and laughed. I was overwhelmed with relief and then I was confused over what just happened. I thought to myself,

why would a guy of seemingly sound mind think it's totally acceptable to go out of his way to just approach a woman and her kids in a deserted parking lot late at night just to chit chat? But being that nothing bad happened, I brushed it off and joked about it too. When we got home, my husband greeted us and asked us how shopping went and I said it went well and my 15 year old told him what had happened in the parking lot and how weird it was and was kind of joking about it. I started joking too saying how I was mentally having a panic attack while trying to look calm and I started making fun of myself by telling my husband how I was attempting to inconspicuously rummage through my purse to find my car keys.

My husband went completely white and I acknowledged his horrified look of alarm and I assured him that, albeit creepy, the guy was just talking and eventually left on his own. Now my father-in-law is a retired sheriff deputy and my husband went through police academy training after graduating high school. He decided to go to business school instead of becoming a cop and being that the knowledge he gained from that plus growing up with a cop for a dad, I found out why my husband looked absolutely horrified when I told him the details. What my husband told me completely rattled me to the bone. My husband told me that he was 100% sure that the reason why the guy was hanging around us and chit-chatting was because he was waiting for me to unlock the car and the reason why he was

standing next to our kids was because once I unlocked the car and the kids started to get inside he was most likely going to force himself into the car with the kids started to get inside, he was most likely going to force himself into the car with the kids and hold knife or gun to them to gain leverage on me to force me to cooperate knowing that I wouldn't abandon my kids which would force me to get into the car with them and do whatever he wanted to me which most likely would be to drive to a remote location to do god knows what. And being that he wasn't wearing a mask, suggests that his intentions were to also leave no witnesses to identify him. I then remembered that he was positioned by the backseat passenger door where my 7 year old was standing by waiting to get in.

My husband then told me that the most likely reason why this guy ended up leaving was because it took so long for me to find my keys and the longer it took the more anxious and spooked it made him. And the whole time I was desperate to find my keys which, through some sort of divine intervention, stayed hidden in my purse, thus saving us from potentially being abducted. My fiancé and I threw a dinner party one time to celebrate his mom completing chemo. I hired a caterer. We were expecting 25 friends and family so it was more than the kitchenette of our single-story ranch house could handle. We'd also just moved in so didn't have a lot of cooking staples. The caterer said that he would bring everything, 75% done but he needed

to finish off some dishes in our kitchen. I told him that was fine as long as he was finished by 5 because my kitchen is centrally located and we'd prefer everyone to be finished before the guests arrive due to the intimate nature of the occasion. He said that would be fine. He arrives as scheduled at 12pm. We gave him until 5 and the guests aren't even arriving until 6 so it's plenty of time. He smelled like actual dog poop, but his accent sounded European so I thought maybe he just didn't believe in deodorant. It was more than a sweat smell though, it smelled like a sun-baked diaper and that made me uneasy because he was going to

be preparing food for priorly sick and young kids. I just made sure he washed his hands and then left him to his own devices, worrying I was being presumptuous. Throughout the entire process, he keeps pulling me aside to ask me questions and have me taste things. I was super busy because my husband had to work during the day and pick up the surprise guests right after. So setting up the deck, decorating, putting together the slideshow equipment, coordinating the surprise guest. We flew in her sister and I had to make sure she got an Uber at the airport and her hotel had worked out, and just a million other little details. So every ten minutes being asked things like, do you prefer this with paprika or without?

With is fine, whatever you think. Tasted to be sure. Was getting old. When he was still there at 5.45 after two gentle reminders, I flat out told him I needed him completely out by 6 no matter what. He apologized and said that there had been a delay because our oven wouldn't stay up to temperature. I never had a problem with our oven but I figured he's the professional, maybe it was a subtle problem. A little before six rolls around a few of our friends start trickling in. I decide to tell him whatever's done is done and whatever isn't he should just put in the fridge but he's nowhere to be found. I got out on the deck to ask my friends if they'd seen him and

he's out there, alcoholic beverage in hand, out of his chef whites and now in a tea and jeans mingling with my friends. I walked out just in time for him to introduce himself to my cousin-in-law as a good friend of mine. Nope, too weird for me. I met him in person for the first time barely six hours ago. I told him he needed to leave, now. So he goes inside and gets his bag and makes a beeline for my bedroom. I'm taken aback. I say, excuse me, where are you going? And he says, to change. So first of all, we have a guest bathroom clearly visible. Second, why can't he wear a t-shirt and jeans home? I tell him I'm not comfortable with him going in my room but he insists it'll only be a second

and goes in and shuts and locks the door. I couldn't even get a word out before he went in and felt helpless. I was going outside to ask one of my friends to help me usher him out but at that point my fiance got there with my aunt-in-law. I had to explain the situation to usher him out but at that point my fiance got there with my aunt-in-law. I had to explain the situation to him nearly in tears at that point and he was like what? He went in the bedroom? Why? So he pounded on the door and the caterer came out still in a t-shirt and jeans and my fiance said you should not be here you need need to leave. And the caterer said, excuse me, this isn't your house, it's not up to you to decide. And my six foot four, 260 pound fiance tells him, yes,

actually, it is his house, and puts his hand on his back and guides him to the door. The caterer says, I thought she lived here. And he says, yes, my fiance lives here with me. And the caterer goes nuts. He turns to me and screams, you lied to me. I have no clue what he's talking about. He starts yelling about how I let him on and calling me all sorts of terrible names. I don't know who he thought the man in the pictures with me around the house was, so my fiancé says, oh no, you won't talk to that way in my house, find the door. And the caterer goes in the kitchen and starts throwing the trays of food out of the refrigerator and on the floor. At that point my fiancé realized two of his brothers, both currently offensive linemen

at the college level, had come in and were on the deck. He signaled to them and they came inside and he basically said that this guy was harassing his fiance. Since they're a family of all boys and my fiance is the first to get married, they don't get to flex their protective muscles too often and jumped at the chance to toss this guy out. The party then went out as planned but I insisted we just ordered pizza and throw out all the food he made. My fiance and friends kept saying isn't that a bit much but I was insistent. We went out late drinking with his brothers and got home at around 3am and passed out in our room. At around 5am I was woken up to the sound of the door opening.

I figured either we forgot to lock the door in our drunken stupor and it blew open or one of his family forgot their keys or something in the house and didn't want to wake us. His parents and his local brother have a key but his parents never ever ever let themselves in when they know we're home and his brother had even more than we did and was definitely not awake and driving around at 5 a.m. It wasn't nearly windy enough for the door to have blown open. It had been tranquil all night so I wake up my fiance and whisper someone just came in the house and he said the same thing, probably just my brother left his wallet or something. I figured I'm being paranoid and try to put it to rest when I hear a loud crash sound. With that, my fiance was up and on his feet in one movement. He told me to lock myself in the closet and call 911 while

he went and looked around. As I was pulling out my phone we hear the distinct accent, hey, hello, and I realize it's just this insane caterer. I'm not worried about this caterer physically overpowering my fiance, or me for that matter, so I charge right out there. The caterer is shirtless and clearly on something. He's taking the pictures that are just me off the wall and holding several in his arms already. He lunges towards me when he sees me. My fiance gets between me and him and I call 911. Fiancé tells him that the cops have been called and that it's in his best interest to get off the property. Caterer says, No, I have to make sure that she's okay.

And I say, What? Why wouldn't I be okay? And my fiancé rightfully says not to engage with him and feed into it. My fiancé stays between me and him while I climb out a window. He watches as the caterer throws photos of us onto the floor. Fiance didn't want to subdue or touch him in any way so the caterer couldn't make any assault claims. He's begun to destroy our kitchen at this point and when the cops come in he is a butcher knife

my fiance considered going for the gun safe when he first got the knife since we lived in our stand your ground state but he decided the situation was hectic enough without introducing a firearm caterer doesn't obey police orders to drop his weapon and he says he isn't leaving without me so they tase him. It's lucky for him he only got tased and he didn't antagonize my husband into squashing him. As he's let out in cuffs he's shouting how he and I are in love and it figures I chose a macho thug over a sweet sensitive artist like him and all women are etc etc etc. He continues on this tirade the entire time police are reading him his rights. The police ask us to do an inventory of the house and see if anything is missing or damaged besides what we witnessed him do. We go around and there's nothing

but then I remember he was in our room yesterday and go through the room. All my panties from the dirty laundry hamper were gone and my vibrator had been moved from where I kept it. We were so freaked out in the aftermath that we replaced all of our kitchenware, toothbrushes, sent our sheets to be professionally cleaned and had a cleaning crew do a deep clean of the whole house. So glad we decided not to serve the food to our guests and my fiance's medically fragile mother. He sent me a letter from prison that thankfully my husband intercepted because I was still recovering from the whole thing. We gave it to the police who helped us get issued a no contact order. He was sentenced to three years

in prison five years ago so he's out by now but thankfully we haven't seen him since. So I, a 19 year old female, was at a house party a couple of days ago. I only really knew a couple of people there and it was packed. I hung around with my two friends there for a while having some drinks. After a while my friends went into this room that everyone was hotboxing. I didn't go because I really don't feel like drinking and being stoned at a party where I barely knew anyone so I just mingled for a bit then went on my phone talking to my other friends. I noticed this guy that keeps staring at me up and down and instantly felt my stomach sink.

I'm no stranger to people trying to catch my eye to strike conversation or flirt but I instantly had a bad feeling about this guy. I looked back down at my phone and sent my location to my friends just letting them know where I was because things were changing from feeling chilled to sketchy. There was a bunch of cans of soda in the kitchen so I got up to grab a Sprite instead of having any more drinks. I brought my own alcohol I never take drinks from strangers. As I'm there the same guy that kept looking at me comes in and started trying to get me to take this drink in a red solo cup. I was like nah I have a Sprite thanks though. He kept trying though and I was getting annoyed because he kept being super pushy and I'm really blunt so I was like

look I don't want your drink or your company and walked away. I thought that that'd be the end of it and pushed it to the back of my mind as one of my friends came out from the hot box room stoned and happy. We hung out some more and my friend wanted a cigarette so I went out to the balcony with her. As we're there she put her cigarettes on the ledge and as she's talking animatedly her arm pushed her cigarettes off and they fell down into the yard. I was going to go downstairs and outside with her to get them but she told me that she had to grab something from her car anyways and that she'd be right back. I decided just to wait there for her. I'm on my

phone and I hear the door open and I expected it to be her. As I'm about to say, that was quick. I spin around and am face to face with that guy from earlier. He just grabbed my face and kissed me and I pushed at his chest and said, dude, did you not hear what I just said? He proceeded to say something in Spanish. I can't speak Spanish, but I could pick up a few words he was saying like puta and coño. I had a friend who was an exchange student and she taught me all of the naughty words. I told him to screw off and went to push past him to go back inside, and he proceeded to push me up against the wall outside and try to kiss my neck. That's when I pushed him away as hard as I could but he

then let go of my wrists and grabbed my throat hard while maintaining eye contact and smirking at me the whole time. Just when he used his other hand and grabbed my butt my friend came back from getting her cigarettes poked her head out and saw what was happening and she tried to intervene but he pushed her with his other hand. I heard her scream obscenities and she tried to grab the closest guy to the door from inside and brought him out. A random heroic guy from inside then grabbed the crazy throat grabber, putting him in some kind of hold and started screaming at him. He got kicked out. Pretty sure someone punched him in the face too.

Everyone was super apologetic and said they didn't even know that guy and weren't sure who he even was. I wasn't about to call the cops or anything because like I wasn't going to get that party busted but I went to the bathroom and immediately broke down crying. Called my friends. My friends here weren't sober enough to drive and they came to get me. I have a couple of finger mark bruises on my neck still and I hate to think of what would have happened had my friend been distracted by something and not came outside when she did. At least I know my intuitions work great but let me just say I'm not going to a party where I barely know anyone anymore. It's just not worth it. This story happened to me around 6 months ago. I have lived where I live for 3 years.

It's a nice apartment in an amazing location, but they were built in the late 90s. The last few years, the city I live in has had a massive population boom and people have been non-stop pouring in. Good weather, amazing economy, cool place to do stuff always. Because of this, I have seen the landlord's staff start to do heavy maintenance on the apartments to bring them up to date to attract more people to them. My neighbor lived in his apartment for something like six years before he ended up buying a house and moved. When he moved, the landlord immediately started redoing his apartment as one to bring up to date. The way that the apartment layout is, is there are

two stories. Where my bedroom is, on the direct other side of the bedroom wall, is the staircase in my neighbor's apartment. The way my bedroom layout is, has my bed right up against that wall. They were completely stripping this place clean. It was one of the first ones that they did such heavy remodeling to. For weeks I would always see the workers over there painting and redoing the floors. A few days before this happened was no different. I left and saw them doing maintenance on the kitchen and when I came home from work they were gone for the day. Nothing unusual a single bit. The part that is unusual is what happened one particular night. I was awake at around 1am watching TV in my room when I heard someone on the other side of the wall slowly walking up the stairs and very obviously stopping halfway up.

Where the person was stopping was directly where my head laid on the other side of the wall. I could feel him listening to me, breathing. I immediately turned the TV sound off and sat there extremely quiet and still. I heard nothing for a few minutes and then after what felt like an absolute eternity, I heard the person start walking the rest of the stairs to the second floor. My survival instinct kicked in instantly. It was very obvious that someone was on the other side of that wall listening to me. I also knew that it was only a few days before

this happened that I saw the maintenance men redoing that apartment's kitchen. I knew that there was no way someone already moved in that fast. I quietly got out of bed and went to a room where I had a better view of the outside of the apartment. I obviously couldn't see if there was movement in there from the window but I had a good angle to see if anyone walked out. I sat there for around 15 minutes just staring outside to see if I saw anything at all. Nothing. I went back into my room and laid down in bed again. I didn't play the TV, I just sat there waiting to hear something again.

I was messing around on my phone for around 20 minutes in silence until I heard movement in the stairs again. This time though, the movement didn't start from the top or the bottom. The movement started in the middle of the staircase, meaning that the entire time I was sitting there in silence, this person was just on the other side of the wall listening to my every move. This terrified me, so I called the cops. I gave them all the information of what was going on and they informed me someone would be out very soon. I went back to the one room and watched out the window again. Only a few moments later a police car pulled up and a cop got out to examine the building and apartment.

He was looking around and shining his light in the windows. I heard him knock on the door and shortly after could hear him talking to someone but couldn't make out what they were saying. I was totally puzzled by this. The officer walked over to my door and knocked. I went downstairs and he informed me very nicely that someone just moved in there. I laughed and was completely embarrassed. I even said to the cop that it was one way to meet your new neighbor.

I felt embarrassed but more importantly felt very relieved about the entire situation. I brushed the whole thing off as it just being late in my mind playing massive tricks on me. The next day I went to leave my apartment when I saw something that made me stop, dead in my tracks. I went outside and only took a few steps towards my car when I saw maintenance over there carrying out the old refrigerator. I was puzzled. I walked over to the apartment and looked in the door that was wide open. The kitchen was still being worked on and not a single piece of furniture could be seen. I was legitimately speechless.

I walked over to a maintenance man and said, didn't someone move in here? And he informed me no, that the apartment wouldn't be ready for showings until at least three weeks. I ran back upstairs into my apartment and called my landlord. I asked her if someone is staying there and she said absolutely not. I told her about what I experienced the night before. She was floored. She told me that they would change the department's locks immediately. She also suggested that I called the non-emergency line to the police department and informed them that no one lives there. I did just that and they asked me to come down to the station. I told them all of the information in detail of what happened. They were able to quickly figure

out what officer came out to check out that situation so he could help identify the person who answered the door. The officer described the man in detail and I confirmed that I've never seen him around the apartments before. There was a search around town for a few weeks until the whole thing just sort of fizzled out and I stopped hearing about it and started seeing less and less patrol cars randomly in the parking lot. After that night I never heard another thing in that apartment. Around a month later an older couple moved in and they're very nice. When I saw the moving van pull up I went out to introduce myself to them. But to be completely honest the only reason I went out there was to see if any of them matched the description of who the cops saw.

Not even close. I'm certain that the person who was in that apartment got away with it. I had an extremely hard time sleeping the following weeks of that happening to me. I actually ended up moving my bed into the smaller second bedroom because it bothered me so much. I have zero idea what the intentions of that person was or what he was doing in that staircase, but it's easily one of the most chilling things that have ever happened to me. Way back in 1991, I was in my second year of high school. I volunteered to assist students who had special needs back then.

I read textbooks aloud and recorded the audio for students with visual impairments, acted as a sign language interpreter for a deaf classmate, and helped out with two classes for students with cognitive impairments. It was through this volunteer work that I met T. T had quite severe cerebral palsy, used a power wheelchair, and was visually impaired. I began as a textbook reader for her. It soon became quite obvious that she didn't really have any friends, as most of the kids who were not disabled really avoided those kids who were. There was a lot of bullying of the students with disabilities. Soon I began to accompany T to her classes in order to help her avoid jerks, especially when it became known that she kept some of the morphine pills she needed for severe chronic pain in the bag on the back of her wheelchair. Guys began trying to steal those pills, even resorting to violence.

Because T was nearly blind, she could not identify the jerks who attacked her. If I was with her, they didn't try. I felt bad attacked her. If I was with her, they didn't try. I felt bad for her. She was very isolated as her family lived a long way outside of town and the local mobility bus would not go that far. All weekends and all holidays she was stuck at home while the rest of us got to go hang out with friends. So I started being a friend. I gave her my home number so at least she had someone to talk to on weekends. Over the next couple of years that became kind of an unequal friendship. She was a talker. If I had plans with other friends she would moan about how she had no one else, how depressed she was, how she was going to end her own life. It was really strange,

just how she always seemed to know when I had plans with other friends. If I wanted to go out with them, she'd know and call me and guilt me into dropping them to stay on the phone with her. I mean, she always knew, and I could never figure out how. Being the naive, socially inept kid that I was, I'm autistic and social stuff is especially difficult for me, I fell for this manipulation. I'd get gilded out and cancel my plans with my real friends so I could stay on the phone with her.

I didn't even like talking on the phone. My other friends and my mother did try to warn me that the way she was acting, dominating my time and manipulating me was unhealthy and not the way a real friend acted. But I felt like I had to defend her to them as she had nobody else. I found her exhausting and I was having mental health struggles of my own. But I kept quiet and never spoke about my increasing anxiety, self-injury, depression and certain impulses. I didn't want to be mistaken for being anything like T, who brought up her abuse. I really do think that she made all of that stuff up, as the details changed with every telling.

Her depression and the attempts that she had done to end her own life, whenever she wasn't getting what she wanted, so... I didn't tell anyone how desperate and depressed I felt and I hid my self-injuries. Looking back on it I really did need help but I kept it all secret. Partway through my fourth year of high school went her third. She moved into a local supportive living home for people who had disabilities who needed help with things like dressing, bathing, meal prep, etc. Now that she was living right in my own town, there was no escape. I couldn't do anything with anyone without her finding out about it and

guilting me over it. You don't care about me just like everyone else. I just want to hurt myself. No one wants me around so I may as well just die. Things like that. Sheesh. Eventually, if she called the house phone, no mobile phones back then, thank fate, or I'd have had no freedom at all from her. My parents would always say I wasn't home, even if I was. They gave excuses, like being at piano lessons or my figure skating lessons or at my job or at a local diner. If T got my mother on the phone, she would try to do to my mom what she was doing to me. Thankfully, mom was far better at setting boundaries than her daughter was and would only talk with T for a few minutes before giving a polite excuse and hanging up.

Finally, I graduated. I chose a university that was a good three hour drive away from home in part to avoid T. She would not be able to get to my new city, my room was in a building that was not wheelchair accessible, and there would be long distance phone charges. With me away from home and inaccessible, T went after my mother's attention with an unnerving ferocity, calling multiple times every evening. That was the reason my parents finally got caller ID and voicemail, just so that they could avoid answering the phone when T called. Years went by and I came back home after university. I began working for the local hospital. Facebook arrived on the scene and

I joined up to keep in contact with friends and family who were now living all over the country. I hadn't thought of T in years. Then she sent a friend request and I felt exactly like I did when I was in high school. Hounded. Needless to say, I blocked her. Eventually I cancelled my Facebook account entirely as she began making fake profiles to attempt to contact me. Thankfully it's been about 10 years since she last attempted to contact me and I have made that difficult. Neither my mother or I are listed in the local phone book. I don't use my real name anywhere online and I am very cautious about giving my mobile number to others. I don't know where she is but I do hope she changed her ways and finally has friends she

doesn't have to manipulate into hanging out with her. Ever since I was 14 years old I have been scared of lightning. The End of the sound vibrating through my whole body, but this wouldn't be my only incident involving a lightning strike that I came too close to. The next time it wouldn't only scare me, it would also be my salvation. When I turned 20, I moved out of my parents, who live in the capital of my country, to a small community in the south, and I have no intention of moving back. Sure, a girl that grew up in this city is used to the endless variation of restaurants, bars, stores that never close, and a city that never sleeps, but I like it here. Despite the low population of the community and something of a sleepy town stamp on it, it is charming with its colorful wooden houses, the seaside campus,

and the smell of butter from the old butter factory as an eternal reminder of where you are. I can practically go out whenever I want, wherever I want and meet a total of 10 people, the neighborhood cats and if I'm lucky, a cute but lost hedgehog. There is one more reason why I appreciate living in a small town. It is how incredibly safe I feel here. In the city, you can barely be outside alone as a woman after 10pm without feeling such discomfort that you feel compelled to check behind you once or twice every minute. All such discomfort, however, doesn't only happen after said time or during the darkest hours of the day. It can happen at any time. But that is something you learn, something I had to learn. I was 17 and it was the summer

holidays. I was spending most of it at my then boyfriend's house and he lived with his family about 20 minutes outside of the city. I lived with my parents at the time in the city center, just along the green subway line so if I wanted to get back home I had to take the commuter train to the central station, walk across it and switch to the green subway line and ride a few minutes on there to get back to my station. I was then in one of my rebellious periods and had a month before bleach my hair. I loved it at first but after a while my roots

started to show and I realized my mistake. My angel of a mother had tired of my fuss over it and booked me at a hairdresser so that I could go back to my natural deep brown hair color. The day for my appointment at the hairdresser came and I was as usual at my boyfriend's but I needed something from my parents apartment first so I put on my headphones and jumped on the commuter train. I switched as usual to the green line and sat near one of the doors that I knew would line up perfectly to where I would get off. I like to crowd watch when I travel, not to stare people out or anything like that but just to look at people and think about where they are going, what they are doing for work and maybe make up a story about them. It is kind of a game that I

often find myself playing on the subway or commuter train. I played that game that day. I looked around at people and where there was one station left until my stop, my eyes struck to a man who was sitting a few feet in front of me. He was tall, perhaps in his mid-thirties. His hair was dark and scruffy, wearing dark clothes and big boots. He sat with his elbows leaning against his knees, crouching slightly down towards the subway floor. Today, I don't remember what my analysis or fictional story was of him, but I know I saw him. The woman in the speakers shouted out my destination, and I stood up and went to the doors and stepped off. When I got out of the doors of the station, I saw that it had started to rain.

So I pulled my head over the headphones and started to quickly walk up to the apartment, which was only a few hundred feet from the station. The apartment is an old building with a large wooden door facing the street. The door has a glass pane that runs along the entire door and when you enter the staircase is entirely in marble with an old wooden elevator with an iron lattice door that you have to close manually. When I got to the door I put in the entry code and pushed up the door. When the door was swung aside something was reflected in the glass. I turned around and saw the man from the subway standing behind me. At first I was a little shocked that he was so close to me but I assumed he was one of my neighbors or a neighbor's friend.

I also assumed that he stood so close to me because it rained and he didn't want to get wet. So I said hello and pressed up the door an extra time with my hip while I took off my headphones. He did not answer. I went to the lift and pressed the button but I heard that it did not start so I assumed that the neighbors had opened the lattice door to park the elevator at their floor while they locked their door. I turned around and saw the man standing behind me, shaking. It was not a typical type of shaking that's common if you have a fever or a cold, but more like a spastic twitching. He stood there jerking, with his head and his back as curved as he had on the subway, but this time his eyes were not

on the floor, they were on me. He opened his mouth to talk, but only incoherent sounds came out while the shaking and jerking became more frantic. What's your name? He said at last. I remember my parents' words of wisdom to never tell your name to a stranger, especially one whom one feels threatened by. I wanted to tell him to go but I felt like I was frozen and provoking him might make the situation worse. I replied with a false name. He then asked, do you live here? I lied and answered that I don't and that I'm just here to see a friend.

I remember thinking I was smart. Now he didn't know my name or where I lived I thought but it was now he started moving closer to me. I started backing. He must have seen the fear in my eyes but he continued scuffing towards me. I heard the elevator engine start ticking and that it was on its way down. He told me he has been following me on the train and that he saw me there and that it was on its way down. He told me he has been following me on the train and that he saw me there and that he just had to follow me. It was now that he lifted his head from his previous position, showing how tall he really was and the shaking stopped. He spoke again. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. If I thought I was frozen before, that was an understatement. I was now pressed against the elevator door and he was so close that I could feel his scent.

Some may think that these words still have to be somewhat flattering, but the way he said it, it sounded like a death sentence. Like something real bad. Bad for me. It was about when I heard the elevator stop on the first floor and someone walked down the stairs to the courtyard door. That door is located on a small platform between the ground floor and the first floor stairs. You also know how you can recognize and distinguish your parents step from others. I did with this with these steps that came down

the stairs and heard that they were my fathers. I quickly thought that I would scream for him but then I realized that the man would know that I first lied and that he might get angry and do something to my old father. That was when my father opened the door to the courtyard and the lightning struck the yard. The sound waves of the cracking lightning pressed itself through the open door and made the whole marble stairwell scream. I screamed. The man screamed. I went to my

usual position regarding thunder and lightning, fetal position on the floor. He, on the other hand, jumped backwards and started running out, while he shouted that we will be seeing each other again soon. I barely realized what had happened. I went crying up in the elevator and into the apartment where I told everything to my mother and also father when he came up from the courtyard. We reported the incident to the police and I went and dyed my hair which made me feel a little safer as my appearance changed quite drastically. I was still a little scared as my appearance changed quite drastically. I was still a little scared after the incident but also confused. I just kept thinking about what he was saying when he ran out. We will be seeing each other again soon. I knew at least that I absolutely did not want to see him again. However, I didn't get what I wanted. About a month passed and I had practically

forgotten about the situation. I was on my way to the central station to meet up with my boyfriend who was on the commuter train on his way to me. I stood and waited for him in the hallway between the commuter train and the subway. In that particular hallway a lot of people are walking, either to the trains or from the trains, very few people were standing still in it. As I said, I stood there, looked down the hallway from time to time to try to see if my boyfriend had come yet, when I see someone else standing still. There was someone standing on the other side of the crowd,

and although everyone goes in different directions and creates a kind of blurred effect on him, I see who it is. I freeze just like before. He stares at me, not like our first meeting but as if he's trying to make up if I am who he thinks I am, behind the dark hair. Then my boyfriend comes from the crowd and hugs me and I have to look away from the man a few seconds to hug him back. I lean my head against his shoulder and look over to see if the man was still there but then he was gone. I have never seen him since but the real question is, has he seen me? This happened to me a couple of years ago. At the time, my fiancé didn't believe me, but I'd been convinced for several weeks that someone was watching our house. Several Amazon packages stolen, cigarette butts by the front door when neither of us smoke, doormat has been moved.

We had just moved to the area recently and I was really uneasy about all of this. My fiancé teased me for watching too many murder mysteries and crime shows and I eventually dropped the subject. One night we're in bed together, nearly asleep. Our cat starts being really loud so my fiance gets up to feed her and realizes we forgot to get cat food while we were out earlier. We both feel guilty about going to sleep knowing she's hungry so he tells me not to worry. He'll run over to the little 24 hour convenience store that's maybe 5 minutes down the street. He gets dressed to leave and I roll over to go back to sleep. I'm laying on my

side in bed facing our window and as he leaves I can see his shadow on the blinds as he walks down the sidewalk. Didn't know it yet but he forgot to lock the door. Maybe a minute or two after he leaves I see his shadow pass by the bedroom window again and hear footsteps coming back up the sidewalk. I figured since he was tired he probably forgot his wallet and had to come back. This has happened before. I chuckled myself at how forgetful he is and the front door opens. My cat jumps off the bed to go and greet him. What happened next took place over the span of maybe three minutes but

felt like three days. It was dark and dead quiet in our house, quiet enough I could hear my cat's little steps on the bedroom carpet suddenly stop. She then lets out the deepest, most terrifying growl I had ever heard a cat make. At this point I hear a person take a few steps into our living room, shush her and sneeze. It is definitely not my fiance. I'm a woman, alone at night, naked in bed, scared out of my mind and I have no idea what to do. This guy clearly knows my fiance is out. Does he know I'm home alone? Is he here to kidnap or hurt me? My phone had died earlier of course so it's off and plugged into the charger. I know once I turn it on AT&T's incredibly loud jingle is going to betray me so for right now I'm on my own. Thankfully we keep a shotgun by our bed. I slip out of bed,

grab my gun and crawl as quietly as I can toward the bedroom door which was about two-thirds of the way closed. I can hear the creep rummaging through our stuff in the living room and he sneezes again. This idiot. I peek through the gap in the door and the outside light is just barely bright enough to illuminate the man hunched over our entertainment center, his back to me. I silently open the door the rest of the way and stand up, still 100% naked and 100% determined to keep myself and my cat safe. I muster all my stupidity and courage and cock the shotgun and in the deepest booming voice my body will allow me to make, I bellow out, What do you think you're doing? I've never seen a human jump so hard or run so fast.

I scared the creep so badly he about launched himself into orbit. I got one good look at his back as he ran outside into the darkness and then he was gone. I slammed the door shut behind him and yanked my terrified cat out from under the couch by the neck. We booked it back to the bedroom with my gun. I held her so close to my chest and just started sobbing while I struggled to turn my phone on and dial 911. My fiancé got home with a can of cat food moments later and immediately noticed the PS4 on the ground and other electronics moved around. He found me in the bedroom flipping out and I barely got any words out to explain what happened before the cops showed up. They were super nice but unfortunately there wasn't much else they

could do. They didn't have a lot to go on as I hadn't seen the man's face at all and couldn't really give them a solid description. Fortunately none of our stuff actually ended up being taken and more importantly my cat and I were both okay. However we were positive the creep lived in our area as a few weeks later, someone we knew up the street was robbed in the exact same way. He left his door unlocked for a moment to run to the store, came back and all of his electronics had been stolen. I'm not sure if they ever caught the creeper.

We got out of that neighborhood pretty quick. Just remember, lock your doors, people. I always tell this as a cautionary tale that has actually happened to me, especially in light of all the terrifying, heartbreaking news stories of girls who get into Ubers and are never seen again. This happened when I was in college. It's one of the bigger party schools with an entire street of bars you can wander to and from. My boyfriend, now fiance, had gone back to his hometown for the weekend, so I decided to go out with some friends. I'm sure you can see where this is going.

I had a bit too much to drink and was on the edge of a blackout. Knowing with my whole mind, body, and soul that I did not want to become a liability for my friends for the rest of the night, I told them I was going to Uber home. My friends insisted on coming home with me, but selfishly I wanted to call my boyfriend when I got home and have a bed to myself so I could tell them all no but took a screenshot of my driver's name and info on the app and sent it to them. When it got close I hugged them all and walked out the door. Like I said earlier it's a big party school with a lot of bars in one area so the entire strip is lined with Ubers from about 11pm to 3pm. It was also bar closed so there were a ton and

look, I was hammered. I don't even know what a Toyota Yaris looks like at the best of times so as I'm searching, a man rolled down his window and asked if I was waiting for an Uber. I said yes. He told me he wasn't my Uber but if I cancelled my ride and accepted his then he would take me home. I was already thinking of the leftovers I had in my fridge at this point so I agreed, cancelled my Uber and linked my account up with his. He was super nice and he was an Uber. I've heard stories of fake Uber drivers so I did make sure he was legit. He called me beautiful a few times right off the bat but hey, I was a girl in college, I get that a lot. I remember we talked about our favorite books. I told him I was an English major and he was super interested in listening to me talk about tutoring ESL students in my free time on campus.

He was an immigrant who had to learn to speak English so we lamented about how awful it is to learn such an intricate language but how rewarding the successes were in the end. When he missed the turn in from my apartment complex I figured it must have been because he was distracted by our conversation. I politely pointed out that he missed the turn in and he said that he turned back around. Rather than making a u-turn though, he took the longest way to get back to my apartment. I was still in familiar territory so I at least knew that he was going in the right direction when I was starting to get nervous.

It was around 2.30 at this time and it was super dark and no one was awake let alone outside. When he missed the turn in again I asked if I could just get out and make it back on my own. He seemed kind of offended like he was surprised that I wasn't as engrossed in our conversation as he was. I kind of jokingly told him that I was a broke college student and he was racking up my bill during a surge. That seemed to straighten things out a bit. He was all, oh, I completely understand, and turned back toward my complex. I was honestly so freaked out and drunk at this point that as soon as he pulled into my complex, I was like, okay, right here is fine, thank you, and pulled on the door handle when he came to a stop. It didn't open. I hit the little lock latch. Still nothing. Let's go get coffee, he said.

He clicked the button in the app to say that the trip was completed and clicked out of the app. At this point, I'm just trying not to look as freaked out as I felt. I told him I was tired and it was late and coffee was the last thing I needed at the moment. I tried the door again just to make sure I wasn't drunk and handling the door wrong still didn't open. We should just sit here and talk until you're feeling better. He explained to me. We can go somewhere more private too if you'd like. Do you live alone up there? At this point I'm frantically digging through my purse from my phone.

I'm done being polite. When he asked what I was doing I told him I promised my boyfriend I'd call him once I was home safely. Wrong thing to say. He got incredibly angry that I had a boyfriend and didn't tell him about it. He asked what his name was, what he did for a living, and where he was right now at this very second. When I gave half-hearted answers, he got even angrier. He demanded to know why a boyfriend of mine would be stupid enough to leave his girl alone with another man, him. He repeated it twice. At this point, I'm trying not to cry. When I figured my phone must have fallen under the seat, I started digging around down there. He demanded to know what I was doing. I gave my best impression of a genuine laugh and

said I'd drop my phone. He told me to stop digging around in his things immediately. I stopped. Mind you, I'm still drunk as a skunk at this point. I was just trying to keep my stuff together and not vomit or pass out. I tried the door a third time. Still nothing. He asked if I wanted to get coffee again. Even kind of begged a little. I told him no, I just needed sleep.

He asked if I lived alone again. I lied and told him I had a roommate. He asked if it was my boyfriend and I said no. He kind of got angry again and then straight up asked if I'd made my boyfriend up. I told him no and he got angrier and again asked why he would leave me alone with another man like this. I'm usually pretty good at reading people and I got the vibe that this guy thought he was a knight compared to my boyfriend. So I lied. Through my teeth I told him I was going to break things off with my boyfriend and that we weren't even really that serious. That he was an idiot to leave me alone like this. Thank whatever God was watching

over me but that did it. He calmed down and said that changed things. He asked if I wanted to get coffee again and changed my answer to not tonight. He asked for my number and I gave it to him. He called to make sure it was my real number. My phone buzzed from between my seat and the door and I fished it out. He grabbed my phone from me and demanded I show him my boyfriend's contact info. When I did, he deleted it and gave me a big smile. Feels good, doesn't it? I told him yes. He put his number in my phone and gave it back.

I told him goodnight in hopes that he would release me and he told me he'd like to talk for just a little longer. I had to stay locked in that car with him until 4.30 in the morning. I don't even remember what we talked about. He asked if he could hold my hand at one point to which I said I needed to break up with my boyfriend before I did anything with another man. He liked that answer thankfully. When he finally let me out, the door was child locked so could only be opened from the outside. The windows were locked too. I walked up the wrong building steps and crouched down in the shadows of some random person's door until we drove off. I sat for another ten minutes and then sprinted to my apartment.

After crying on the floor in my kitchen for a while, I called my boyfriend and explained to him what happened. His response was one that I get from everyone when I tell this story. Report that guy to Uber. And even though he didn't know which building in my complex I lived in, he still knew where I lived. I was terrified of seeing him again. I was terrified of calling an Uber. To this day I refuse to Uber alone and I make sure I have my phone in my hand every time I get into an Uber now. I realize this could have been a lot worse and maybe he was a good guy with the wrong line of thinking and he did mean well but I was terrified

I wasn't going to make it to my apartment that night. Please be cautious when getting an Uber and don't be like me. I spent all night reading through these yesterday. Some of these stories are truly bizarre. It inspired me to write about an incident that normally I hate to even talk about because it is honestly one of the most disturbing things that I had ever experienced. This all started in January of 2019, so relatively recent. For some background context, I am a young gay man living in a very populated city, so weird things are bound to happen, especially when using the gay dating app

Grindr. I'm sure you've all heard of it. When this started, I was living in a biggish city in northern Florida, but had plans to move the next week. My two friends had come down to celebrate my moving away and also one of their birthdays. We hung out in my city for a day and then drove to Miami together. It was a lot of fun for the most part but this story begins on the last day of my vacationing there We were at a brunch place preparing to say goodbye to the city and drive back home So I could pack my things and relocate to where I live now And I received a notification from Grindr saying that I had received a new message I opened it up and the message simply said

Hi or something of the sort. It was from a blank profile and it said it was sent using a feature called Explore meaning this person wasn't located in Miami but lived elsewhere. I replied not minding the faceless profile because a lot of men on that app are not open with their sexuality and might not want to take a risk of people in their actual life finding out about them. We make small talk, exchange names and such and he seemed like a really nice person. He eventually sent me a few pictures of him and

he was very attractive looking. He asked me for my number and I was so flustered by Miami and saying goodbye to our temporary friends that I just gave it to him without thinking about what could have come of it and I regret this dearly. We texted over the next few days and things seemed pretty normal. We talked a lot, just casual chit chat, asking about our careers, goals, etc. Nothing strange. And then I noticed a notification from the cash app that I had received $100 from a random username that I didn't recognize. The memo was an eggplant emoji. Gross. I was so confused and started texting my friends, telling them how a random person had just accidentally sent me $100, and how he'd have to keep sending me more in order to ask me to

return it because you can only communicate with someone on the app if it includes a payment. We got a laugh about this and I decided just to return the money because I would be really upset if I was on the other end of the equation and I had just graciously donated that amount of money to a random person. Before I was able to do that, though, my new Grindr friend texted me and said, don't ask me for any more. That's all I can give you. I will block you if you ask me to send you more. I was confused. I had never asked this man for money. I have no idea how he even got my Cash App username. I know you can look people up using their phone numbers, but I hadn't even linked my new phone number to that app yet. I replied asking him how he got my

information, but he wouldn't say anything about it. I guess I just dropped it because, eh, free money, and I'm an idiot for that. Time goes on and things are getting a little weird between our texts. He begins asking me to send him pictures of my feet, which in and of itself isn't weird. I don't like to kink shame, but something just felt very off about him at this point. It's as if I was talking to a new person. I tell him that he needs to calm down a bit and that this is getting uncomfortable for me to which he agrees. Time goes by and eventually he insinuates that I should move back to Florida to the city where he was located so that he could take care of me. I firmly decline which he says well then I will come to you. At this point my alarm bells are going off and I'm thinking, I've got to put an end to this.

I don't reply right away and he tells me he's always wanted to come to my current city. What? How do you know where I live? I didn't give him any of my social media and even if I had, there's no way he could have known because I intentionally withheld any information online about me relocating as I was tired of everyone knowing my business. I have always had my location on Grindr set to off so he couldn't see where I was or even how many miles away I was from him. I told him that at this point he needs to leave me alone and that I didn't wish to talk to him. I didn't block him though because I was

starting to get paranoid and wanted to have a record of the things he would continue to say in case things got super weird, which of course it did. First he told me he was sorry for lying and sent me a few pictures of what is actually him. I hate to sound like a jerk but something was seriously off with the way this person looked. Almost every picture had a very big disturbing ecstatic smile and big wide eyes staring directly into the camera very close up. He was probably in his 30s and looked like he didn't care for himself very well. His skin was uneven and gray and had a short beard that looked like it hadn't had maintenance at all if that makes any sense one of them looks like it might have been an accident because his face

was blurry and he was angrily just staring into the camera with a hateful evil expression on his face he also sent me one of his mouth but only his big smile pictured. Nothing else was in it. There were pictures of his apartment as well and it looked almost empty other than a small table with a photograph of unknown people in it. Also a fire hydrant was there. It was all very weird. I didn't reply to these and that resulted in a string of angry texts from him telling me he wished he'd never met me and that he hates me. Throughout all of the weird, uncomfortable, and filthy texts he sent me, there are a few exceptionally disturbing things. He sent me a link to his YouTube page, which I did end up viewing, and the videos were

literally just him talking to himself and making jokes to himself. There were ten plus of them and I was the first viewer, although they'd been up for months. If that wasn't weird enough, whenever he would pause in between sentences in these videos, I would hear faintly in the background what sounded like someone's muffled screaming, and every so often, after hearing the screaming, I would hear him try to hold back a very high pitched sinister laughter that sounded nothing like him. I could tell from the sound quality that it was something this man was producing and not a bystander. I also don't think he has many friends. Most of these videos have since been deleted and I don't know why.

I write poetry and at some point he was begging me to send him poetry. He also sent me a link to his wordpress which I also viewed and the poems were somehow actually very well written, like extremely beautiful poems, but I realized that the things he was saying in them made absolutely no sense. I tried analyzing them any way I could because I was trying to figure out what was wrong with this guy and none of them made sense. He would randomly send me small amounts of money on the app, I guess in an attempt to get me to talk to him. Fast forward a little bit, the timeline is slightly messy because this was just a constant stress on me and I was still receiving a message from him every 10 minutes that I wasn't replying to.

These were weird. Here's what some of them said. Did you block me? You want to put me out of your life? That's fine, but it's an irreversible decision. When you push me out of your life, you don't get me back in when you feel dumb about it later, and you will. And the best thing that happened to you in years. It is a privilege to know me.

You want to clear space out for someone more deserving because you're an uppity little prick? Not a problem. You're not getting rid of me. Stuff like that. I withheld some of the more vile and descriptive ones depicting what he would do to me sexually because I don't like to read them or even think about them. He would also reply to his own texts almost instantly and apologize for what he said and told me please don't go and things like that. I finally broke down and told

one of my best friends about this who was also gay but very muscular and protective of me. I don't know he just makes me feel safe somehow and I didn't know who else to tell. He immediately got really mad and took my phone and called him. Best friend told him aggressively that he was my boyfriend. Which makes no sense because I wouldn't be on Grindr if I had a boyfriend. And that creeper Grindr guy needed to stop reaching out. Grindr guy is silent and then suddenly starts hysterically laughing and making the most inhumane god awful noises I had ever heard. Speaking sentences that

were English but with words that didn't make any sense together at all and just really creeped us out. The look on my friend's face still gave me chills. He never gets uncomfortable but he was just staring at me with this blank expression and it was in this moment that I realized that I should have just blocked this man as soon as I realized that something was off. I didn't know what to do I guess. After the call he texts me a lot of horrible things and then says sorry and this is a cycle for about 15 minutes until he sends me this. The private Facebook message you may see were all written before our conversation via text and phone tonight so naturally disregard them and my name. I just block him. I have no idea

what he was on about with the Facebook thing. I looked and couldn't find anything. This final exchange happened about a month and a half ago. I thought this was the end up until about two weeks ago. I was exploring a nearby large city. There are a lot of big cities around me and I'm basically in the middle of them. With that same best friend. We were walking out of a museum and I see someone that looked very familiar leaning against a cement wall to the left of the big stairs that was the

entry to the museum. He was staring at us, but I couldn't make anything out of it. I ignored it and we hopped on the bus to take us to a nearby restaurant for lunch. It wasn't until we got to the restaurant that I realized who this man was. It was him, the creepy grinder guy. I was sure of it. I have no idea how he knew where I was, but I knew he traveled over a thousand miles to come to the area I was living in. I didn't mention it to my friend because I'm seriously really creeped out, but I think I'm going to tell him when we hang out again because I don't want anything to happen to him either. Luckily I'm moving again in a few weeks, this time very very far away. I'm considering taking

this all to the police but I don't know if I really have options. This has been the weirdest and most uncomfortable experience of my life. I love waking up in the dark and walking the sunrise with my dogs. I didn't intend to own two huskies and a German Shepherd mix, but they each found me and I couldn't turn them away. We usually jog about five miles daily, often in the neighborhood, but nearly as often I load us up in the van and drive ten minutes to the wooded metro park. I love it there. They offered some trails that allow quads and motorbikes, some bicycles and skis, some just people, and last year they opened up a new one that allows pets. It's a five mile loop into the area, farthest from the city.

We live on the northern edge of town, but in the dark with no leaves on the trees, you can clearly see the red glow of the CVS sign for most of the hike. These are tamed woods with asphalt paths and concrete fire pits and rangers patrolling regularly, and the hospital behind CVS means there is emergency medical care and walking distance. I was up coughing again in the night. I had a serious case of pneumonia two months ago and was not fully recovered when the sinus infection hit me. I'm past the fever part so we're walking, not yet jogging again, but after being up in the night I didn't get up in time to go walk before I dropped my kids off at school. Then my youngest had an appointment, then I had to run a few errands, and then we had unexpected visitors right after school, and then they stayed for dinner, and finally I got the dogs

into the van and we made it to the park just before it started to get dark. I was irritated at all the little things that had kept me from my walk all day but as we drove all the way to the back of the park I realized we'd be walking the sunset, watching it over the lakes and the hills and through the bare trees. And the park was clearing out now, as it started towards dark. We would very nearly have the place to ourselves, and might not have to pull off the path to let others pass us. An amazing number of people who were afraid of dogs hiked the pet path. All of those little irritations had led up to this singular moment of beauty

I would not otherwise have seen and appreciated. This was going to be a really good walk. Funny how life works out when you let it. I parked in my spot at the furthest end of the parking lot by the bathrooms. A mile long, people, walkers or joggers only, path looped through the woods and by the lake and came up by the bathrooms. I liked to run it when I came here alone. It was a glorious walk through a Bob Ross painting. My mind cleared and my thoughts quieted and I simply experienced the woods. My feet on the path, my dogs panting, the nature sounds, the beauty of the sky. I absolutely loved it. About halfway now and the city's sounds had faded away till I could only hear the birds and frogs and insects all singing their songs of territory and mating and life. Crack.

Utter silence and absolute stillness. My dogs and I turned instantly towards the source of the sound and froze. Behind us and to the right, the sound had come from the crest of a hill. I could see nothing and heard only the dogs panting. I waited for the nature's sounds to return. They did not. All three of the dogs slowly raised their ruffs, fur standing on end all around their shoulders and necks, tails held tall and proud, making themselves look larger and more threatening. I took a step towards them and the female husky, the leader of my little pack, instantly put her ears back and her head down and pulled me down the path. All three of them left their tails and

ruffs up but the two males also put ears back and heads down and began to pull me so off we went. The woods were still silent. We must have started a buck on the slope of the hill not seeing him and after we passed he leapt up the hill and jumped a dead tree and his hoof hit a dead branch and the branch broke, crack and scared everyone. Why were the woods still silent? Maybe there's someone up there. Homeless people must stay here sometimes. The bathrooms have heat so the pipes don't freeze. This is about as far as the path goes. It would have been a good place to sleep. Maybe he's setting up a shelter and... crack, broke a branch. Why were the woods still silent? We're about as far from the city as we could get in these woods and you couldn't see the CVS sign or the glow from the street lights

or even hear the traffic noises. It was dark and still and absolutely quiet, except for the panting dogs and four sets of footsteps on the path. I wanted to run. The dogs wanted to run. Bigfoot. That was a Bigfoot, breaking a log to say get out. There are no Bigfoot in city limits, I promise you that, brain. It was a deer. The woods are still quiet because of us. I have 200 pounds of dog here. Yes, they're the big huskies and another 200 pounds of me. Yeah, I'm a little fat, but I've got good muscle underneath. I have broad shoulders that don't fit into woman's shirts and big hands that don't fit into woman's gloves. I can lift 100 pounds over my head. We are the scariest things in these

woods. There's no bear, there's no wolves, there's no Bigfoot. There are deer, there are foxes, and there might be an angry raccoon, but we are the biggest, baddest, scariest thing in these woods. Unless there's someone with a gun. Shut up, brain, you're not helping, I say to myself. The dogs had not stopped once to sniff or mark. Heads down, ears back, tails and ruffs still held high. They just wanted to go. We'd gone almost a mile now, me craning my head the whole time, trying to see as far as I could in all directions while letting the dogs pull me down the path, and it was still absolutely silent. Not an overflying goose, not a cricket, nothing moved, nothing made a sound, except us.

Here came the third and longest of the three steep hills on this trail. I had been running through these to rebuild my strength and endurance, but if I ran this, I'd be blown at the top. The top where it curved around as it crested and you couldn't see anything past the thick trees. The top where if you were deeper in the woods, you could follow a more gradual ridge up to the crest of the hill and wait, unseen for someone to come up the path. Ambush. It was a deer. Turn around? It was just a deer. What if it's behind us? Ambush. Deer. Gun. Bigfoot. This is why I run. The noises in my head

are unbearable otherwise. Up the hill. Walk. Pay attention. Watch the dogs. The dogs were still on alert but didn't hesitate to go up the hill. In fact they wanted to go faster. Just walk, don't get smoked, be able to run or fight if you have to. Yeah okay I'm scared too. The woods should not still be silent. The dogs should not still be on alert. It's not a cat or a bear or a wolf and I really doubt it's Bigfoot, but it could be a person. So let's be smart, just walk. We are not good prey. The dogs will protect me. The huskies might not alone, but the shepherd will and they'll follow his lead. Be smart and get out. Only another mile now to the lake and the first parking lot. Then another half mile along to the lake to the second lot where my van was. Hearing traffic noises now but still no birds, no crickets, no frogs. The smell almost stopped me in my tracks but the dogs kept poling. Sour and grassy and oddly metallic and... oh no. Poop. Poop and blood are partially digested grass. I smelled the contents of a deer's stomach. Someone hunted these woods. The dogs were not at all interested

in the smell. We ran. I don't remember much of that last mile. We just ran. Desna, the big female husky, finally stopped to drink some lake water as we came out by the parking lot. Then she began to sniff and pee. The boys followed her lead. There was a single truck parked. I relaxed quite a bit, but still felt on edge. Down the lake in the next parking lot I could see headlights. They must be parked at the turnaround at the end of the lot closest to the lake. Their headlights illuminated the lakeside path. They're watching us. Halfway to the van now and the car drove away.

Twenty feet from the van I heard a motor coming down the nearest path. I decided to put the dogs in the car on the driver's side instead of the passenger's side like normal. The sound of the motor came closer. The leashes caught on the armrests and I had to untangle them before the dogs could jump into the van. The motor came closer down the path. I had to be gone before it came out. I knew it with an absolute certainty. Finally the dogs were in. I slammed the door and jumped in the front, fumbling for the lock button, shaking hands, unclipping the keys from my jogging belt, starting the car and gunning it into reverse. And as my headlights swept over the entrance of the path by the bathrooms, they lit up a four-wheeler coming out of the woods. I was dropping the transmission into drive and hitting the gas, and as my brain processed what my eyes saw, it informed me that

there was something across the handlebars. A gun. A deer carcass. I couldn't tell, and because of the angle when pulling away, I couldn't see him in the rearview mirror at all. Until May 30th, receive up to $70 by prepaid MasterCard with purchase of four new Michelin passenger or light truck tires. Find your pro at your local Tread Experts. From tires to auto repair, we're always there. TreadExperts.ca Discover the exciting action of BetMGM Casino. Check out a wide variety of table games with a live dealer or enjoy over 3,000 games to choose from like Cash Eruption, UFC Gold Blitz.

Make instant deposits or same-day withdrawals. Download the BetMGM Ontario app today. We'll be right back. to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with iGaming Ontario. The story happened three years ago. I, Marcus, was 21 at that time and just finished my basic training in the army. It was the first time in three months that I was at home and of course I felt like a super hardcore war machine. The first day at home the annual fun fair took place in our village but honestly I just wanted to go to sleep so I refused when my friends asked me to go drink with them. I went to bed at 2pm right after my arrival and slept about 4 hours until my ringing phone woke me up. I looked at the display and saw that Marie, my ex-girlfriend was calling. We didn't break up in dispute and claim ourselves as still friends. I answered the call and asked if I could come over and have an

eye on her two cousins who were five and nine years old because her parents are not at home and she wants to go out with her girls. She thought I was home for two days and knew from my sister which she asked first that I wasn't going out on the fun fair and even though she apologized and said I should stay home after I told her that I was home since today, I agreed and walked over to her house, which was only ten minutes away. I arrived and knocked on the door. Moments later, she let me in and introduced me to two young boys, David and Joshua. After telling me the rules like not too much candy, no TV after 9pm,

and the promise not to come home wasted and no later than 2am she left the house. I placed myself on the big couch and watched television while the two boys were playing in the living room around me. I told them if they need something they can just ask me. We ordered pizza and I even had fun playing with them after we ate. It was about 11.30pm, David and Joshua were sleeping in the guest room and I sat in the dark living room watching Netflix on my phone when I heard a strange noise from the backyard. It sounds like some metallic clanking. The blinds were shut so I couldn't see anything. I went to the window and spread the blinds only a few inches and scanned the backyard. I saw nothing.

But then chills ran down my spine as I saw the shadow of a head peek over the fence. At this moment I was 100% sure that this was actual danger and not just some drunk guy from the feast who had gotten lost and ended up here. Marie's house was more than one mile away from the town hall where this took place, literally on the other end of the village. And why should a drunk person sneak around the house? I turned my head to check that all the windows were closed. When I looked back in the yard, the silhouette was gone. I was still tensed and had a bad feeling, but I went back to the couch and tried to convince myself that it was an

illusion and I'm just overtired. I must have dozed off for about 20 minutes when I woke up by trampling from upstairs. I looked to the door and the boys came inside. Joshua the younger one was crying and David pointed in the direction that they were coming from. Marcus, he said with a trembling voice. There's a man at our window. My stomach felt like a brick. Was the shadow in the yard real? I told them with a calm voice to stay here and wait, but inside I was shaking. In the dark, I sneaked upstairs, holding a kitchen knife in the right hand. The floorboards creaked but the loudest thing I could hear was my heart racing. The door to the guest room was slightly open and I could look inside and see the bed which was slightly illuminated by the shine of the moon.

The sheets were crumpled. David and Joshua clearly left in a hurry. A little breeze of cold air came towards me and my worst fear had come true. The window was open. My hands were shaking as I pushed open the door easily. I stand in the doorway and wasn't able to move inside. You coward, I whispered to myself. After a minute of standing there like a statue and staring in the room, I made a step forward. I searched around and under the bed.

Nothing. I opened the closet. Nothing. A bit relieved, my plan was to check on the other rooms. I went out into the hall again, walking slowly along the wooden floor and grabbed the door handle of the bathroom. I wanted to push it open but in that moment someone from the other side was pulling it and literally dragged me inside. I stumbled forward and the next second I stand face to face with a black dressed masked man. I almost soiled myself in that moment.

We stared at each other for maybe three seconds before he pushed me back against the opposite wall and ran downstairs. I dropped the knife. It took me a few seconds to realize what just happened. I hear the kids screaming in fear. I got up, rushed to the stairs when the sound of shattering glass filled the house. He tried to escape through the front door but it was locked and I guess in his panicked brain threw something through the big window in the living room tearing apart the blinds and somehow made it outside. I chased him into the yard where he jumped over the fence by using a garden chair as a step. I looked over the fence and saw him sprinting into the yard where he jumped over the fence by using a garden chair as a step.

I looked over the fence and saw him sprinting into the nearby woods. Back inside I called the police and tried to calm the boys. As the officers searched around the house they found a ladder outside the fence. It was at that exact spot where I saw the shadow earlier that evening. Three days later the police caught the man and he was arrested. They informed us that he was a wanted criminal. Who had recently kidnapped and ended the lives of five children in the last two years. This was literally the worst night in my life so far. Let me preface this horrifying reiteration by stating that I was a 19 year old female college student attending a rural university in Pennsylvania. I am also a

quadriplegic and as a result use a wheelchair. It was one warm spring afternoon in the rural college town where I was currently staying. I had just restarted my studies after taking a semester off to recover after a devastating infection had ravaged my spinal cord, deadening the nerves in the base of my neck, leaving me with no use of my legs and weak hands. I was struggling to adapt to my new lifestyle and if you're from the north, you know that there is no such thing as flat when it comes to landscape. My campus was teeming with hills and frost-wedged pavers which made navigating the terrain all the more cumbersome. This is relevant, so bear with me. I just made it to a particularly tumultuous hill, which always gave my arms a good workout when I stopped to gather myself before ascending. About halfway up, I had to turn sideways to keep from rolling back and catch my

breath. Out of what seemed to be nowhere, a thin, bronze-haired boy appeared. Hey there, you need help? You look a little worn out, he asked. I sucked some air and nodded, grateful for his offer. He grabbed the push handles on my chair and began to push me to the top of the hill. It really is a shame that you have to do this alone being in a wheelchair can't be easy but you make it look good he quipped still pushing uh thank you i think i replied kind of annoyed oh i didn't mean it in that way pardon me i i just think you're beautiful, he said apologetically. I nodded a thank you and pointed to the building to my left. I can take it from here. Um, I didn't get your name.

Brian, sophomore philosophy major. He responded smiling. I can take you to your classroom. I don't want you to wear yourself out before you go back to your apartment. My face flushed and I turned to look at him. Ryan, forgive me, but how did you know I live in an apartment? His face twisted a sort of stifled grin mixed with regret. Oh, I've seen you come out of the square a few times, that's all.

I turned away and without offering a farewell made my way to class unassisted. Here's the thing. Ryan couldn't have known I lived in the square. Local, but not very local apartment complex. Why? I didn't wheel from there to campus. It was too far. I always got a ride with a friend, Lacey, and she always picked

me up in the parking lot behind the building which was away from the street view. The only way Ryan could have known that I lived there was if he lived there himself, or if he just so conveniently had been in that parking lot when Lacey picked me up. Breathe. Why on earth would some random follow a crippled girl around? I wheeled to my class and for the next two hours sat in a haze when class was over to my surprise who but ryan the philosophy major waltzed into the room I figured you'd be done by now and wanted to see if you needed any help getting to your apartment. Which apartment number are you? Maybe I could come by and we could study. I asked. Oh, I live on campus, but it's probably better you don't come over.

My roommate is a little bit messy. He replied, visibly nervous. I'm sorry, I just thought that you might want to hang out, besides pushing me around, you know, because of what you said. I do, I just don't think we should hang out at my place. Maybe yours. He said flirtatiously. Well, I did not think that one through.

Tonight isn't a good night. I have voice coaching, but maybe tomorrow. I squeaked. I was so nervous, I knew I messed up big time and there was no coming back. I'm not the type to really say no, and this was and will be my undoing. He agreed, but ended with something that will haunt my dreams for eternity. Apartment 109, right? The one with the two peepholes and the butterfly art in the window? I was absolutely floored. I think by that point my jaw was paralyzed because it was on the ground. I stared at him with such intense dumbfoundedness that literally minutes

must have passed before I could regain my ability to speak. I mean, I didn't, I just stared at him. I'll take that as a yes to see tomorrow. He turned to leave and I, by the grace of all things holy, happened to notice that he left his stack of textbooks on the desk next to me. I grabbed them, being the nice girl that I try to be, and set them on my lap to take home so I could give them to him tomorrow. As I was leaving the building, the slight downgrade of the ramp caused the books to slide off my lap. Cursing my crippled existence, I leaned forward to pick them up when I noticed a particular rough-looking notebook. It was your typical, I'm the next Jeffrey Dahmer, black and white composition book. It was decorated in metallic gel pen with hand-drawn,

and breathe with me, stick figures. Okay, not terrifying, but you know what really struck a chord in my already overloaded brain? One of the figures was a girl in a wheelchair. With rope around her waist. Besides the illustration, a tiny blurb in bright red ink read, wheelchair bound, can't move, can't run. My 19 year old mind was immediately going to Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I was very reluctant to open the book and on the first page was my name, my apartment complex, my apartment number as well as intricate details of my specific unit that someone could have only known had they been inside. On the next page was Lacey's name, the make of her car, when she picked me up, and my class schedule and an accurate description of my parents.

The third page was stained and very worn, and big calligraphic lettering was, her skinny legs. My best recollection, the book was later seized by the police. I dream of her, bound, my hands tracing the frame of her wheelchair, my tongue gliding up her skinny legs, floppy, lifeless limbs rock side to side in my arms. Those skinny legs. I place her ragdoll body on the bed, too weak to fight, bound by body. I reach down and, well, you can guess where that went. I page through this disgusting notebook and became sick, physically ill. There were photographs of me on campus, in my apartment, and even in other public places. All the photos had her skinny legs plastered somewhere on or near. I placed this manifesto in my bag and went back into the building to find a professor, any professor, just someone who wasn't Ryan, the

philosophy major. Long story short, I showed my professor the notebook and Ryan was arrested. He was charged with conspiracy to commit certain crimes, stalking and possession of CP. Yes, he had that in his dorm room as well as a shrine to my skinny legs. I am now 26, living in a different state, and thanks to Stalker Boy, I will never view someone offering assistance the same again. I'm writing this here to raise awareness of how normalized harassment has become because this story was dismissed by anyone I did tell it to. I was waiting at the interchange, a collection of bus stops, which had about six people already there at my stand.

I had just finished a seven-hour day at college and desperately wanted to go home. It was about 4 30 ish and the bus wouldn't arrive until 4 50. I didn't really pay attention to the people other than a teenage girl who was experiencing an anxiety attack which is only relevant as it was the reason for why I spoke to the man who sat across from me. He seemed like your average white dude. He looked about 30, was missing a tooth, and whom I noticed kept looking up from his phone at me. This man moved seats to sit next to me and began to ask questions like, what's your name and what college do you go to? I couldn't lie as my lanyard around my neck

literally gave him the information he was asking about. It was a conversation I had had with random people who had sparked conversation with me during the short bus journey, so I answered him, not thinking much about it and holding my phone in my lap. He quickly changed the subject and began asking about intimate details about my relationships and whether I had a boyfriend, which stupid 16-year-old me replied no. I ignored the weird questions about my body count as it was definitely something that set off an alarm bell and I did not feel comfortable talking to a complete stranger about it. In doing this, he started commenting on my body and looks, saying that any guy would be lucky to be my boyfriend and reached out to

touch my nose piercing. This obviously made me uncomfortable and I brushed the weird comments off with thanks. He didn't stop with the comments and began to compare me to his celebrity crushes, Allison from Pretty Little Liars. Pretty weird for a 30 year old to crush on a teen and ask how tall I was. I replied with my 5'6 and he said they didn't believe me. He proceeded to grab my arm and pull me up making me stand up in front of him. I was surprised that he even laid a finger on me especially with witnesses around and I looked at him. He was looking me up and down so I sat down immediately. I checked my phone to see that the time was 4.38. I had to sit at that bus stop for 12 more minutes with this guy asking me uncomfortable questions

and touching me. We didn't talk for a few minutes and I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking it was over and that he had finally decided to leave me alone. Nope. Do you want to get out of here? He asked. I'm gonna go smoke with my friends. You should come. I shook my head and told him I had to go home so I could go to work. That was a fat lie and also a big mistake. He asked where I work and I lied and told him that I worked at McDonald's. I thought he didn't believe me as he paused for a few seconds but then said, ah it's a shame. We should meet up again soon though. I gave him a weak smile and nodded. Keep in mind that this man is twice my age telling me that I'm his type and asking me to smoke with him. He then asked about meeting me over the weekend but I told him I would be in a

different part of the country to visit a family member. Another lie. Fair enough. You gonna be in this town on Monday? I knew I couldn't lie about it as he knows I attend the college in that said town so I said yes but stated that it was only for education reasons. By some miracle, the bus came. I then realized that I know I'd be stuck on this bus with this strange man who would now roughly know where I lived. I began to internally panic, looking around for literally anyone that could separate this man from me. I had moved towards the bus and was now stood up.

He had followed and was in front of me, still talking and still moving closer. He took any opportunity he could to place his hand on my arm or on my face. By this time I was full on shaking. I was terrified about telling this man to leave me alone. If he was bold enough to touch me in public, I had no idea what he'd do if I finally put an end to it. I noticed a woman glancing over at him and then at me, before walking over and taking his attention away from me. I took this opportunity to back away and could no longer hear the conversation she was having with him. He walked back over to me and said, we'll meet again, before wrapping his arms around me without my consent and then walking away. The woman double checked that I was okay and even sat next to me on the bus,

telling me that she had been listening into what he had been saying to me and was watching his actions. She advised me to tell a trusted guardian and also the police about this man. I did tell my grandparents who dismissed it immediately as it's something that happens to everyone. This experience has completely shattered any confidence that I had. I removed my nose piercing and dyed my hair in hopes that I would be unrecognizable to the man I only met once. It's been four months and I think about him every time I have to go into that town and every time I have to use that bus. I have yet to see him and I hope it stays that way.

And to that guy who harassed me at the bus stop, I hope to God you haven't treated other girls the same way as you treated me. I'm a 17 year old girl and I'm used to seeing and hearing things but this weird experience it just has me freaking out. So I wake up and my room just feels off, very weird and then I hear someone calling my name over and over again sounding like a little girl's voice. Obviously I'm super confused by this because I'm the youngest of my siblings so I sit up in my bed and turn around to where the voice came from and I only had time to see blonde hair and a blue dress because she starts to just speed towards me and I just shove my face into my bed because I'm terrified. I have seen ghosts before but this felt different. Then I feel someone walking on my bed and I hear that same voice but now it sounds confused and maybe even worried. I keep my head

down. Then it gets cold, incredibly cold. I start to shake because it's so cold and I feel someone shaking me and that voice calling my name over and over again. I feel like crying and like I'm about to have a panic attack. And then it just disappeared. But I feel like I'm not alone. Like someone is watching me. So I check my phone and it's six in the morning. I look around the room and whisper myself, what was that? And after a long pause, just staring at my floor. Then out of nowhere, my nose starts running and I saw blood dripping down from my nose and now I'm incredibly

paranoid. That's why I think that there might in fact be some sort of demonic child in my house. This is the day after and I still feel like someone is there, this strange presence. I made a cross and my sister read that salt will help keep demons and ghosts away So I hope it works Growing up my father had a job delivering newspapers Some of my earliest memories were going with him on the paper routes and that is where I got my love for 80s metal and the peace of nightfall in nature. He did home delivery as well as deliver to businesses and even a hospital.

This is where the story begins. I remember it's just a typical night delivering papers. The sky was starry, the moon was bright and I believe it was a warmer month, possibly April. I remember we pulled up to the hospital to get out and deliver the bundles of papers. I was maybe 12 or 13 at the time and had always felt anxious around and in hospitals. To paint a picture, there is a smaller hospital and there is a ramp on one side for emergency vehicles and another that goes around where you can enter in a non-emergency fashion. We had to go through two hospital double doors and as we get there I couldn't believe my eyes. The doors open and then

close by themselves. There were flashing lights coming from the inside, almost as if the fire alarm was triggered. However, there were no sounds as a normal traditional fire alarm, just flashing lights. I looked down and there was a small area where you can just see the doors and that's when I saw it. Two legs of what looked to be from a little girl, maybe eight or so. I don't remember past this part because I was so terrified. I don't remember the reaction of my dad or if he even saw what I was seeing. I never did ask him. It's like time froze at that point. To this day and as I type this, I have no recollection of what happened after that. I assume we dropped the bundle off and left but I don't really know. This is something I've contemplated on posting on here for a while.

I can't explain what I saw that night and some people might not believe me but I assure you this is a true story. I went on the paper routes most nights since then and mostly were all normal nights but that night I will never forget. My parents are married, I am a female and I have a younger brother who was six at the time. My parents like to move around and we are rarely in the same place for more than two years. We just moved into a new house in Boise, Idaho. This house was possibly one of the most adorable houses I have lived in. To understand this story you have to know the layout. When you walk in the front door right in front of you was the kitchen and the back door to the backyard. To the left you had the living room and

to the right you had the staircase to the basement and a hallway. If you walk down the hallway on your left is the small bathroom and farther down there is my little brother's room and my parents room. If you go down into the basement you could either take a right or left but we had one of those circle basements where you could walk completely around it. If you take a right or a left but we had one of those circle basements where you could walk completely around it. If you take a left you would get into the tv room and the door to our two-car garage. Continue walking and you will get into our playroom and connecting to this is my bathroom. There is a door on the left that leads to the playroom and a door on the right that leads to the right hallway. Right across from the right door there is our unfinished laundry room and shower and farther down that hallway is my room.

If you continue down that hallway you would end up back at my stairs. So now we get into the story. When we moved in I claimed the downstairs room and my brother claimed the upstairs room. Everything was fine for the first few weeks but for some reason I refused to sleep in my room because when I was down there I would see orbs and feel a presence standing over me. Eventually we would find lights turned on or doors left open that we had closed. My dogs would bark at seemingly nothing and it was always cold for some reason. My grandmother had always been able to detect presences in certain places and she refused to go downstairs. After about six months of living there my brother began to have night terrors, something he had never experienced before. They began to happen

more and more and it was to the point that none of us were sleeping at night. One night my friend was over and we were falling asleep and we heard something drop. We got up and looked over the side of my bunk bed and the pillow that my little brother was sleeping on was in the doorway. Many nights we would wake up to his pillow in the exact place in the doorway. We had to put up with footsteps and voices almost every night. My brother's night terrors began to get even worse. After a year to the date of living in that house my little brother woke up screaming and he jumped out of bed mumbling. My mom and I were asking him if he could hear me with

no response until he screamed yes I can hear you and began to punch a hole in the wall. Our wall was very hard and my brother was a skinny six-year-old and there was no way he should have had the strength to break this wall. He began to shake and continue to repeat, it's gonna blow up, it's counting down. He repeated this for at least five minutes until his eyes unglazed and he just fell asleep. This became a weekly occurrence and each time he wouldn't remember what happened. His anger was through the roof. He was constantly screaming, hitting, and kicking objects and people, threatening to hurt himself. One time he chased me with a butcher's

knife because I accidentally spilled water on his t-shirt. Within a year, my sweet, forgiving brother became this horribly scary human being Eventually, we moved out of the house after two years of torture Recently, I brought up this story with my grandma She told me she went to see a psychic And the psychic told her that there was a spirit of an angry soldier attached to my younger brother She did some research on my house And she found out that the entire neighborhood that

I lived in was once a camp for sick and dying soldiers during the French-Indian war and that my neighborhood was notorious for paranormal activity. It also was home to a fire station and a retirement home. Now, four years later, I'm now 14 and my brother, he's 11. He still remembers nothing and he doesn't have night terrors anymore but still has anger problems. Me, this still terrorizes my dreams and I can't go back in that neighborhood without getting the chills. My mom and grandma refuse to talk about that house and I feel there is more I don't know. The story happened when I just turned 18. My best friend and I, who I am still best friends with to this day, had planned a massive party in my house as my parents and younger siblings had gone away, specifically so I could have the whole house to myself. I'm not a very loud girl, quite shy and

often described as cute. My best friend, however, is the complete opposite. He's very loud and colorful and never fails to be the center of attention without trying. He had invited over 200 people and surprisingly over 150 responded that they were coming, including the guy he liked which he was more excited about than I was. If you couldn't already guess, this isn't exactly my ideal way to spend my 18th, a bunch of sweaty strangers, drunk out of their minds and eating me out of house and home. But this was my 18th and my best friend was planning it all so any blame would go his way. As usual whenever we were going to an event my

best friend forced me to doll up. Whenever I did this hardly no one ever knew who I was as my usual look is normally bare faced, my hair is in a high ponytail, big stereotypical nerd glasses and the most baggy burgundy jumper known to man. However tonight I was as he likes to call me, supermodel of the world, in a tight, very short black dress, black heels, very well done makeup and my hair actually down and curled for once. And as predicted no one knew who I was when the party started until my best friend stood up to give a speech. I got a lot of attention that night from a lot of guys in our year at school who did know that I had such an amazing body under all that knitted hoodie, something I don't enjoy being told.

So I spent a lot of the night brushing guys off who wanted to bone the hottest girl of their year. Yep, I hate that as well. My best friend was busy looking around for the guy that he liked and was on edge constantly checking his appearance. I assure him he looked amazing and did not worry about it. He then went on to how he was hoping to lose his virginity tonight and went on how maybe I should do it tonight as well. It would be a funny story to tell our children when they became best friends just like he and I did. I brush it off and tell him I would be doing no such thing but agree to meet him for coffee the next day for him to go into detail as he liked to do.

It was about another two hours of guys hitting on me and asking me why I hadn't looked like this before when finally my best friend began smacking my arm and telling me that he was here. But his excited tone changed when he realized that the guy he liked had shown up with my best friend's older brother, we'll call him X for the story. My best friend's older brother made his way over to us and began conversation and wished me a happy birthday to which I responded with a thank you. My best friend of course told him to go away as this was an invite only party. X went on with saying that he was invited as the guy my best friend invited was his best friend and he was his plus one. My best friend huffs and walks off

leaving me with X. Now whereas I have grown up with this guy, I mean grew up with him, he was five years older than me and my best friend and our parents are also best friends, X and I hadn't really interacted with him much after I hit puberty when I turned 12. So for the past six years he was just my best friend's grumpy older brother who would roll his eyes every time he saw me or had to drop me and my best friend off somewhere. But tonight he seemed different. He was trying to keep the conversation going with me. We took the conversation to the sofa and he continued to supply me with drinks. He turned out to be more interesting than I ever really knew him to be. He liked a lot of the same stuff as me and we had a

lot in common. A lot. He was more mature than the guys in my year and told me about how he was surprised at how grown up I had become. Around three in the morning everyone began to empty and thanked me for an amazing night. I was still wobbly at this point so I hugged everyone goodbye including my best friend who was indeed leaving with that guy. I gave him a massive kiss and jokingly tell them to use protection. Once I was sure everyone was gone I shut the door and headed into the living room when I heard someone coming down the stairs and of course it was X. He thanked me for a good night and when he went to leave I wobbled over to give him a hug goodbye but my heels got the better of me and I crashed into his chest. He laughed at me and walked me up to my room and put

me on my bed, went down to grab me a glass of water and came back up. He sat there with me for a little while longer and one thing led to another and he probably guessed the rest at this point. The next morning I roll over in bed to find no one there leading me to think that this was all a horrible dream but the pounding hangover I experienced let me know the big party did happen but X wasn't there so I guess I must have just had a weird dream about him after getting to know him a little more. But as I get up and wriggle into my oversized night shirt and head downstairs to find X in the kitchen making coffee. I scream a little at this as he scared the life

out of me. He laughed and walked over to kiss me on the head to hand me the coffee. After some awkward small talk he offered to drop me off at the coffee shop that me and his brother were meeting at in less than an hour. I declined but he insisted and dropped me off. My best friend went into detail and I had to explain what happened between me and X that night. He was surprised but then went on to say how his brother hadn't been with anyone for about four years. Now at this point this story is probably coming across like some stupid drunk teenager's mistake and I wish I could just say that was all it was but X got more possessive. He would wait for me to finish my after school clubs and my outside school activities just to drive me home and talk to me and he would send me lots of texts, Facebook messages, snapchats. The snapchats were the worst.

He would send me dirty messages and pictures that I really didn't want to see. Calling me baby and his girl about how he liked me for years and every woman that he had been with was nothing compared to me. I was the woman of his dreams and I was going to be all of his and about how he was happy he was the only man I had ever been with as he knew I was saving myself for him. I couldn't tell anyone and I couldn't tell my best friend in fear of ruining our friendship. He had been understanding before as he saw how many drinks i had had that night i tried to politely explain to x that i wasn't interested in how he was my best friend's brother and what happened that night shouldn't have happened he brushed it off and went on with his behavior and went as far

as changing his profile picture of a photo of me and him from the 18th and a caption of my beautiful girl to which everyone was loving and it got over 200 likes on it and everyone saying how we were a beautiful couple including our parents who commented that they didn't even know that we were dating. I sent him a message telling him to take it down as he and I were not dating and he brushed me off and carried on with calling me his woman and telling everyone that we're together. I decided to block him on everything and tell my best friend everything who confronted X and tells him to leave me alone. That was four years ago and still best friend with X's brother and X is still maintaining that I'm the only woman for him. I'm beginning to get the feeling that this is never going to end. I hope he will find someone one day but I will never be

that woman for him. I'm a 23 year old female and this happened to me about 3 years ago. One day I was driving from college to my house which is like an hour drive. I just got on the highway and saw a man maybe in his mid 50's in a white car just tapping on his steering wheel. I thought nothing of it. Then he started tailgating me and I thought it was weird but I kept on driving all of a sudden he changed lanes speeds up to pass me and he goes back to the lane I was that's when I realized he was following me and trying to make me stop so I passed and ignored him but he kept doing the same thing I was scared because I still had a 40 minute drive to my home and it was the first time that this had happened to me.

So I kept ignoring him until he changed lanes and kept on my side. Then he started hand gesturing saying that I should roll my window down. I said for what? And he asked if I could stop because I had a flat tire. I knew when my car has a flat tire and I didn't have one so I said no. Then he changed his story and said that I only want your cell phone number and I kept saying no. I sped up and he kept following me. I was very scared but fortunately there was a police car and the man just stopped following me and took the nearest exit.

When I got home I told my mom what happened and she started freaking out. I didn't know why. I was stunned to what she told me next and she said that she had read a news article the other day of a man that goes after young women and uses that same highway to get his victims to stop because there's something wrong with their car. When they stop he stops to help and instead assaults them on the spot. I was surprised and very scared. I don't know if he ever got caught. I looked for news articles but never found one that confirmed that he was apprehended. I have had quite a few experiences with the paranormal, but most of my encounters tend to circulate around my grandmother's house that she bought in 1986. I did some research on the address and I was only able to find one incident. It hadn't even occurred on the property.

There was a really sharp turn at the end of the road. Supposedly a man on a motorcycle had crashed and died in a close neighbor's arms. I have considered asking her about this event but my grandmother said that it may be too traumatic to make her recall. When I was four years old I apparently told my mother that I wanted to go to granny's house so that I could play with my friend. When my mother asked me about this friend, I told her that he was the bloody boy on the bike. My mother wouldn't take me back to Granny's for a while after that. I have no recollection of this boy. As I grew older, spending the weekend at my grandmother's house became a regular thing.

My twin and I would stay up late to listen to the noises that would sound through the house at night. My grandmother had some antique chairs in the dining room that would squeak if you put weight on them. This would be one of the noises we would hear. My grandmother would always blame the squeaking on her sumo wrestler-sized Siamese cat. Sadly, the cat developed cancer and had to be put down. The night that he was put down, we, now teenage, twins stayed with our grandmother since she was an utter mess. That cat was like her child. Our grandmother was asleep in her bed and we were staring at our phones in the living room when we began to hear the creaking of the chairs.

My sister and I looked at each other with mouths agape. We both knew that the cat was no longer the culprit so we covered our heads in our blankets. I had a really hard time sleeping that night. The next event occurred when I was about 17. Again my sister and I were spending the night at our grandmother's house. I had woken up at about one in the morning. I groggily looked over to my right. Beside my head was a floating black ball that looked like static with less white light. It was like it was moving while staying in place. I was still trying to comprehend what I was seeing so I reached over and almost touched it. Even in my confused state I realized that I probably shouldn't touch it. I pulled my hand back and shut my eyes. It was then that I heard a blood

curdling scream and there was a swift smack to my face. I sat up in a daze and noticed my sister was visibly angry. I asked her what happened. She stated that I had just started screaming so to fix that she had to smack me. I probably would have done the same in her position so I don't hold a grudge. Due to some family issues, I moved out as soon as I turned 18. My grandmother wanted me to continue going to college properly so she said that I could use her old sewing room until I finished my schooling. I was a bit worried due to my past experiences but it was a really good offer. It was about two months after I moved in that things started to

get scary. I was sleeping soundly in bed when my cat grabbed my hair in its mouth and proceeded to yank my head back. This was really strange behavior since my cat is an absolute love bug. He had never done anything like this before. I sat up on my stomach crying out in pain. My cat then jumped off my back and out of the room very quickly. Awake and angry at my kitty alarm clock I turned my head to see something huge standing in front of my dresser that had a mirror. A humanoid figure was standing there as if it were looking in the mirror. It looked as if it were made up of the same material as the ball that I had seen.

I sat frozen in fear as I watched this thing turn slightly. It had just noticed that I was awake. The words, it's a girl, and run crossed my mind at the moment its non-existent eyes met mine. I don't remember much of what happened next. When I came to I was flailing my arms on the side of my grandmother's bed. I was in shock. Apparently I had run screaming through the house for my grandmother saying that there was someone in the room. Being a strong-willed southern woman my grandmother proceeded to pull out her pistol in order to go take on the intruder. I was finally able to process what had happened at this point. My grandmother yelled out for me when I began to make my way back to my room. I just couldn't believe it. I had to see it again for myself. However, the room was empty.

I started shaking uncontrollably. What I saw was not human. My grandmother had me sleep with her that night but we had to turn on the night light before sleep was even a thought. A very similar event took place a few months later but it was not as chaotic. Again I had awoken randomly. I looked over to the corner of my room and noticed something crouch down beside my computer chair. It started to stand up. It wasn't two seconds later that I blanked out again. My grandmother had told me not to scare her like that the first time so this time I walked through the house calling out to her calmly dragging my blanket behind me. My uncle happened to hear me and intercept me before I got to her room. He told me to go back to bed. Being conscious again, I repeated my habit of

peeking my head into my room to find the figure. It was the same result. I slept with my light on for three days after that. I am terrified of having another experience like the ones I have encountered. I know it is strange but I now sleep with two lamps on at all times. It has been about two years since I saw those forms and I still cannot explain them. I thought I was doing well until just recently. Two weeks ago I had gone to sleep with earbuds in. I sometimes listened to ASMR to put me to sleep. When I awoke it was still playing in my ears. It was the sound of someone typing on a keyboard. I was going to pull them out of my ear but I realized that I couldn't move. I had heard of sleep paralysis before but this was my first time experiencing it. I noticed that the sound in my ears was getting louder.

It was almost deafening and as it did I began to hear what sounded like laughter. It was a strong male voice. I had listened to this ASMR before and had no recollection of such sounds. I was freaking out. I desperately began trying to lift up my left leg. It wouldn't budge. When I regained my freedom a few moments later, I ripped the earbud out and let the tears roll. It was pretty early in the morning, so I covered my face with my blanket and cried myself to sleep. I don't know what is wrong with me. I've heard some say that it could be nightmares and others say something is attached to me. I just know that all of these events were extremely vivid. I do believe in the paranormal to an extent but

I still tend to lean towards more reasonable reasons. Any answers would be pretty amazing and I hope you enjoy this. Maybe with some help I will be able to sleep in the dark again. To start off this post, I'd just like to say that I am a Christian. I believe in God and angels, but I also believe in Satan and demons. I truly believe that the night this happened, I came into contact with a demon. I was getting ready for bed one night in the fall of 2018 when I had a really bad pain in my side. This came out of nowhere and it caused me to have to sit down. I began seeing stars and that's the last thing I remember until I woke up. It felt like something was pinning me down to my bed,

sitting on my stomach and holding both my hands down. I started screaming and the thing was gone. Just like that. I ran in my parents' room sobbing and told them what had happened. I believe this happened because I was having a very good night spiritually and Satan didn't like that. I prayed over my room and our house and fell asleep. Nothing like this has happened since. I had never realized how affected I was by this situation until I recently moved back in with my parents. I sleep in the basement of their bungalow or

surrounded by trees and the house is in the middle of a clearing. It gets eerily dark at night making it hard to see out of the windows whether the room is dark or light. Therefore it plunged the rest of the basement into complete darkness. I'm always afraid I'm going to look out the window which has no blinds by the way and see a figure outlined by the dim light of the moon, or open my door to someone standing in the dark exercise space across from me. The event that sparked this fear is where my terrifying story begins. I live with my boyfriend, ex now, for about six months before we broke up. We live with five other people, four of us upstairs, three downstairs. The house was one of those old brick bungalow houses that you'd picture

an older couple living in. It was converted into basically all rooms. The living room at the front of the house and the den in the back right corner were converted into rooms. Basements don't really matter as it's not a part of the story. To understand however you need to know the layout of the main floor. As I said earlier the living room was in the front left of the house. Mine and my boyfriend's room was on the front right. We shared a wall with the back right roommate and he shared a wall with the bathroom which was semi-across slash diagonal from our bedroom door. The kitchen was in the back left side where our back door was which was semi-across slash diagonal from our bedroom door. The kitchen was in the back left side where our back door was, which was never ever locked. We lived in the neighborhood of

university kids and elderly people, so we never thought it would be an issue. Unfortunately, homelessness and hard drugs were also rampant in our town, and as most do, I never thought we'd be targeted. My job at the time was very physical and required me to drink lots of water, so I was often up multiple times a night going to the washroom. This night was no different. It was about 4.30am when I got up, an important detail in which I didn't know until later. Usually I'd check the time on my phone to see if I could catch some more Z's before getting ready for work. But knowing it was Saturday and I didn't have to work, I didn't bother with checking.

In my just woke up haze, I stumbled my way through our bedroom. I'm not sure why, but my body was telling me it was around 6.30 to 7am, meaning my boyfriend, who did work weekends, would be waking up soon. As I opened the door and stepped into the hallway, I heard my boyfriend who did work weekends would be waking up soon. As I opened the door and stepped into the hallway I heard my boyfriend sleepily say hello in his phone call voice so I knew he wasn't talking to me. However for a split second I thought that the voice came from somewhere in the kitchen and it almost caused me to step back into the room and close the door. But the feeling slowly passed as I stared into our dark house and came to the ultimate conclusion it was in fact my boyfriend's voice from within the

bedroom. Along with keeping our back door unlocked we usually always kept the kitchen light on. Roommates were in and out at all hours of the night so it just made it easier for them to make less noise when they got home. But this morning was different. The house was completely black. Out of habit, I looked at both roommates' doors. No light was emanating out of the crack at the bottom, so I knew that they were both asleep. Nosy, I know.

I made the quick three steps to the washroom and closed and locked the door. As I was sitting there, my mind started to wake up more and I began thinking about that voice that I heard and how it didn't quite sound like my boyfriend and how up until now I realized I never heard his phone ring. My thoughts were quickly cut off when I heard footsteps in the kitchen moving around then coming over to the bathroom then towards the back door. Oh it's just James leaving for work I thought. He would often come to the bathroom, then towards the back door. Oh, it's just James, leaving for work, I thought. He would often come to the bathroom door to see if anyone was there as the door was eight times out of ten closed, so this reassured me if it was him, he'd just go to the

washroom at work. I kind of relaxed and went back to assuming the voice I heard was in fact my boyfriend, and the phone call that he got was from his boss saying he was late. But something still didn't feel right. I couldn't shake that sinking feeling in my stomach. I think my brain was trying to keep me calm, knowing I'd have to take those three dreaded steps into the unknown before I was back behind a closed door. I stalled for a couple of minutes. I hadn't heard anything else from the kitchen so I figured, worst case scenario, if it was someone they were gone by now. I was still in a sleepy haze and tried chalking up the sounds to my state. I opened up

the bathroom door and without success stared into the darkness of our kitchen to see if I could see anything. Of course I didn't. I quickly rushed into our room, closed and locked the door and turned towards the bed. My heart sunk. There was my boyfriend, snoring the same as I left him, clearly not having woken up yet. Still thinking and hoping the voice I heard was his I shook him thinking he'd wake up easily as I was in the washroom for no longer than five minutes so he couldn't possibly have been in that deep of a sleep yet. It took a minute to wake him up but he groggily says

what clearly annoyed that I had just woken him. Who's on the phone? Don't you have to leave for work? I said. What? He mumbled again. A little more awake this time he reached over and clicked his phone's home button lighting up the room a bit. I paid no attention to the screen. I knew he heard me and he was confirming my suspicions that someone was in our house that wasn't supposed to be. I tried again, however, hoping to get a response I wanted. Just a couple of minutes ago, I heard you as I left for the washroom. You said, Hello. Was it your boss? He made a sort of angry grunt and rolled over in bed away from me.

No one called me, babe. It's 4.30 in the morning, go back to bed. Although it wasn't loud, I was screaming as the events from the last five minutes crashed over me in a new light and I was suddenly the most awake I think I've ever been. James, someone's in the house. I heard a male voice say hello. Are you listening to me? There's someone in the house. We argued back and forth, him saying it was a roommate. I imagined it, any excuse he could make. He quickly fell back asleep after telling me once again to go back to bed. I stood next to my boyfriend, realization that the voice I heard wasn't his, that it was in the kitchen as per my original split-second thought, and that the footsteps weren't his. My next memory of the event gripped

my heart and I almost sunk to the floor in fear. I never heard a door open or close during the entirety of this event. He, or it, was still in the house. Maybe it was a roommate, I thought to myself. No, no, I didn't hear any of their doors close. Besides, they all knew I lived there and what I looked like. They've had plenty of opportunities to talk to me and haven't, so they wouldn't pick 4.30am in the pitch black after seeing me exit a room to do it. Maybe a guest. I checked outside our window and saw our one roommate who

would have guessed was gone for the night. He often was. And our other roommate was kind of a nerd and I never saw or heard anyone in or out of his room. Not even family. The downstairs roommates have their own kitchen so there would be no need for them to be in our kitchen and the only time I've ever seen them upstairs was to ask for our landlord's number after he locked himself out of his room. So it was decided someone was in our house. I'll blame what happens next on my brain for the second time trying to lull me into a false sense of security. It's a ghost I thought. I'm not sure why a ghost would be better than a human. Maybe because ghosts can't really hurt you, which after reading these threads and listening to the podcast I know was dumb of me to think. And a human could do physical harm to us.

Maybe they were more dangerous. I imagined it was my next attempt at making myself feel better, but I know, I know that I heard a male's voice clear as day say hello. I took a look at my boyfriend and realized that if someone was in her house, he wouldn't let anything happen to me, nor would the multiple knives that he kept at his bedside table either. I woke up a couple of hours later to my boyfriend's alarm. I sat up in bed as he got ready and told him the events that had occurred earlier. He of course brushed it off and said it was probably one of our roommates. I didn't keep pushing for him to believe me which was a factor in us breaking up. I had hoped he'd been too

delirious when I woke him up early and would say oh yeah it was for me but it never came. It's now almost April 26th and I have such a crippling fear of being broken into or having someone watching me that it's affected my sleep in a very negative way. I can feel myself slowly losing grip on my paranoia which is perfect timing. My parents are going abroad for three weeks on May 1st leaving me alone in this big house in the forest with just my thoughts to keep me company. It's 2am and my teeth had fallen out again. My tongue examines the craters along my gum and I pray to find out what was once there. My tongue proves one thing to be true.

Every tooth that once rooted itself above my neck and under my nose has escaped me. Salt-filled streams of embarrassment and disbelief move in landsides down my rose-tinted cheeks. My eyes reluctantly glance down to view the contents of my right hand. It seems as if the amount of teeth I hold could cause the tooth fairy to become bankrupt. Every molar, cuspid, bicuspid, and lateral in my hand are no longer included as parts of my anatomy. They become objects. As fear takes possession of me, all that I desire is the comfort and love of my mother. The manifestation has become so intense that my emotions are now identical to that of a child who has lost their favorite toy. My mother suddenly appears in a surreal yet lifelike fashion. Seeing her face instantly creates a

shortage upon the growing terror within me. She faces me and then realizes what had happened to my mouth. She realizes what has happened to her daughter, however, she appears to feel no fear or concern for my situation. As a matter of fact, she seemed almost baffled at the level of concern that I expressed for my teeth, which are non-existent to my mouth and instead in my trembling hands. Haley, don't worry. Those teeth are meant to be temporary. You're supposed to lose those teeth. In fact, you'll grow a whole new set of teeth many times in your life. It's totally normal. A simmering rage mixed with disbelief and confusion bubbled within me. The dropping of my jaw and the narrowing of my eyebrows were almost instantaneous.

How could my mother be so ignorant? How could she not understand what is happening to me is terrible and abnormal? Emotionally distraught and mentally drained I belted her. That can't be possible. Something is seriously wrong, mom. Please listen to me. Then, with a blank visage and seemingly lifeless voice, she responds to me. Just wait. A sensation emerges from my jaws, but it isn't painful. Brand new teeth are raised from beneath my gums in somewhat of a factory machine type way. Each tooth aligned with its neighboring teeth filling the void amongst my gums all the while appearing perfectly aligned. My mother was correct but it doesn't change my fear and confusion towards the situation. Too many questions are left within my mind that

I realize cannot be answered. My subconscious vessel begins to fade away at this moment and I become conscious. My heavy eyelids begin to open. I stretch my hand out to grasp my phone in a haze of sleepy drunkenness to check the time. It's 6.15am and I realize that I've had a teeth dream again. Ugh, I hate those dreams. I lie in bed and reflect upon the unpleasantries that emerge from my nighttime dreams. I think about similar dreams that I've had in the past, like the time I had a dream that in between my teeth there were pieces of human nails. Every time that I tried to pry the pieces of nails from the crevices of my gums, more nails would appear.

Perhaps some of the most bizarre dreams I had were the ones where my teeth became loose but they never fell out. The teeth kept themselves sewed to my gums but they simply were loose and served no purpose. It's a rare thing for a pleasant dream to occur while I sleep, if not a thing of the past. I said my goodbye to sweet dreams when I became diagnosed with depression and started taking antidepressants at the age of 15. I was prescribed a white and navy blue antidepressant known as Prozac. As I held the pill bottle in my hand, I felt hope for the first time in years that I would be happy again, and well, that hope eventually became reality. I felt the physical symptoms of sadness slowly lift off my chest every day.

I started to feel alive instead of just purely living. I anticipated that feeling ever since I was a numb 12-year-old girl. That girl isn't numb anymore. As weeks progressed, I noticed drastic changes in my life. Some changes were blessings, other changes were curses. I felt as alive and happy as a clam, but that soon became a different story when I fell asleep each night. I soon would learn the side effects of antidepressants. The most prominent side effect for me would be bizarre and or intense dreams. During most nights

I woke gasping and praying to God that whatever I had experienced while I was sleeping was fake. What I experienced when I slept was surreal, vivid and worst of all violent. It felt like I was there experiencing every trauma that my subconscious could imagine. On one notable night I dreamt of a gunman shooting at my school. Every child ran as far and fast as they could away from the school and groups but somehow the gunman just kept following trying to slay every one of us. It was almost as if it was the Terminator. He was unstoppable. I became afraid to leave my bed when I awoke because my experience felt immensely real. One must understand why antidepressant users continue to deal with such horrific side effects.

I could stop taking Prozac and just have decent dreams again, right? What some don't understand is without the sacrifice of peaceful sleep, I would continue to live my days physically and emotionally numb. There would be no such thing as happiness if I didn't take that blue and white pill every day. Most people believe that once someone with depression is prescribed an antidepressant, they simply become happy and the rest is history. No one usually considers what the negative effects might be for those who take medication for mental illness and because of this I live my life trying to educate others around me about mental illness. It's 8 p.m. I have

swallowed my happy pill and in two hours I will start to fall asleep. I accept that torture from my subconscious vessel is drawing nigh. I've grown indifferent towards the consequences of sleep. I used to fear sleeping when I started using antidepressants. I didn't want to submit a part of myself to torture every night, but I became used to it. The more I have accepted that I will have nightmares, the stronger my subconscious and conscious vessels have become towards them. The horrific, violent, and intense dreams are worth my happiness. I understand that tonight I may run away from a gunman, I may be assaulted, or parts of my body will be taken from me. I understand that the level of fear in my dreams will be intense and vivid tonight, but I wouldn't trade it for feeling happiness when I'm awake. Two hours have passed, and now I lay in my bed with my eyes growing tired, my eyelids relax, my consciousness slowly shuts down. I can only hope that my teeth don't fall To be continued... it, I was 22 and the store's newest assistant manager. Even though now I'm 28 and the manager

of three of the local franchise's restaurants, this tale will take place at the time I had just become the assistant manager of the one. So, like I said, I'm 22 and a brand new member of the management team. Although I've been working days for the last five years, my shifts would now be nights. It took a slight adjustment, especially in my sleep, to get used to the change, but not long after, I grew to prefer nights and the staff that came with them. My boss, the night manager, was a laid-back dude and we were able to get away with most anything as long as we got our work done. He'd usually dip at about eleven to go see his girl and leave me to close the restaurant. Since we weren't one of the stores that stayed open past midnight, I didn't mind being on my own to run things. To be honest, we didn't often have many customers, if any, after you left. We tried to have most of the closing work done by then,

so we could screw around until it was time to close up. I won't get too specific about our activities but I will say there wasn't much work being done. The night shift I have in mind was nothing out of the ordinary. The boss left around 10.45. We would close the dining area at 10 and once he was happy that it was cleaned and restocked, he took off like usual. The rest

of us split up to do our thing. Normally we would have two people take out the trash and one person stand at the door and watch. This was considered a safety measure to avoid letting a backdoor robber slip in when no one was watching. However, as you can probably guess, we weren't exactly sticklers for the rules and we rarely did this. That night, Adam, or so we'll call him, was the team member that took out the trash just before it closed and as far as I know, he saw no reason to be scared when he did it. He'd left the door open while he did this because it would automatically lock when shut, another of those safety measures. If you let it lock behind you, you'd be stuck outside and have to pound on it until someone inside decided to let you in. A universally hated situation. Like I said, the door was stuck open while he took the trash to the dumpster and I just happened to be by the door checking on the mop or

something. I'm not sure why I looked outside but I noticed Adam running as fast as possible for the door. When he noticed I was watching, he began yelling, There's a dude in a mask running for the door. This took a second to compute, but when it did, I almost soiled myself. I knew what he was planning on doing and I didn't want to have anything to do with it. Luckily Adam was halfway to the door when he saw the guy and I was already ready to slam the thing shut once he got in. I was holding it only about halfway open and yelling at him to hurry because I could see that the dude in the mask

was incredibly close. As Adam reached the door and jumped inside, the robber attempted to stick his foot and hand into the doorway to stop me from closing it. As I pulled it closed, I tried to make it so hard that the dude's foot and hand would be hurt, and he'd instinctively yank them back. He must have been tougher than I thought because despite slamming his body parts in a big steel door, he continued to yank his way in. By stomping on it, we managed to get him to yank back his foot pretty quickly, but his hand was still wedged in, and what I hadn't noticed before was the pistol waving around in it. I was terrified that he'd pull the trigger and hit one of us. So, we let go of the door, but I guess he didn't think of it. By this time, three of the team, including me, were pulling on one small handle bolted

to the door. I had initially thought that we would have the advantage, but at least I was getting exhausted fighting to hold the door. As for him, the gap was getting wider and he was almost able to fit both of his arms in. To my relief, about that time, one of the girls grabbed the full coffee pot and poured the whole thing over his hand. He instantly started screaming and despite not wanting to do so, he pulled both of his hands out of the doorway

and the door slammed shut. It did so hard two of us fell back onto the floor. During our melee, another employee had called the police. They must have arrived in record time because I know the fight for the door hadn't lasted more than a minute and a half and I could see them driving up as he ran past the drive-thru window. We all stood and watched as they cuffed him and pulled the mask from his face. We all gasped when we saw that he was actually in fact a former employee, Andre, who had been fired a few months before for showing up to work so drunk that he was unable to do his job. It made sense that it was a former employee. The thief knew we'd be

slacking off and not paying attention. It would give him the best chance to get the money before I dropped it into the safe for the night. I opened the door and let in two of the officers. We sat in the dining area and talked about what had just happened. I did my best to relay the events and once they finished with me, they talked to a few of the others that had seen the whole incident. After they got all the info they needed, they let us go. On my way home, I called my boss to inform him of the night's entertainment. Considering what occurred, we decided that in the future we should perhaps be somewhat more observant of the rules when it came to safety.

We by no means wanted to take the fun out of the night shift, but it seemed wise to follow safety rules in order to hopefully prevent the near tragedy we'd almost had that night. And, at least for the rest of my time at that restaurant, we practiced the safety rules the way they were intended when they were written, but we still continued to have a good time in between. Andre ended up doing some time in jail. At least a year from what I've heard. He's doing more right now because of another robbery

he did where the guy with him actually did shoot somebody. It's a strange thing to think back on. He's always seemed like a nice dude. I've moved up and on in the company since then and done my best to make my stores a fun but safe environment to work in. I probably have forgotten about the whole thing, but I just read about a fast food place not far from me being robbed and the manager being killed. Turned out to be the guy I knew from the first store I worked in. It reminded me how important it is to be safe and careful in our business. Always remember to watch your six and keep your head on the swivel. Good night y'all and keep safe.

I've been urged by those close to me to share my account of a recent life-changing event I experienced while working the drive-thru window at my fast food job. Until this happened, I had yet to fall victim to the irrational angers some carry around all day inside of them. I was unaware of how easily they can be triggered and now that I have seen it first hand, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to fully trust another human again. Although, at this time it is still very difficult for me to relive the event, I am encouraged that, to do so through this post, I may be able to begin to take charge of my life again. I guess I'll start at the beginning, in order to make what came next make more sense. My name is Zoe Marie, but my friends call me Zoe. I'm currently 17 and will soon graduate high school a year early because I was allowed

to skip ahead of grade when I was younger. In order to instill a strong work ethic into their young daughter, my parents encouraged me to get a job once I had turned 16. Not being one that wanted to disappoint my parents, I soon found a part time job at a chain burger and fries restaurant near my home. I would often ride my bike the two miles after school and work a few hours during the weekdays and longer shifts on weekend evenings. So I had always had all of my things paid for up until that time. Seeing each

check filled me with a mixture of awe and achievement. These feelings appeared to have done exactly what my parents had hoped and fired my will to work even harder. I'm not sure if this desire spawned from a place of greed. I'm sure the argument could be made. Nonetheless, I did look forward to each shift. My shift that night had started at the counter. But once the girl working the window ended her shift, I was moved to her station. At the time, I had no preference between counter

and window. You came into contact with a rude and crude working both, and this night was no different. I had already had a big fat woman with her three snotty-nosed children in tow scream at me for making a small mistake in her order. Perhaps the only benefit I did have was that I rarely worked after midnight, so I didn't have to deal with many intoxicated customers that came later. The one or two times I did work later, I found it a trying experience. I'll keep my moral views to myself. I will only say that I see those who partake of alcohol as weak, and I'll leave it at that. My shift was ending in around an hour when I met my last customer.

From the way the gentleman was speaking, I could tell he had been drinking that evening. The transaction was a string of confusion and chaos. He changed the order multiple times and those in the car with him sounded as confused as him. The entire mess came to a head when I informed him that our shake machine was out of order. I'm aware that most drive-thru workers will use that as an excuse, but I promised that night it was certainly broken. When I told him this, I was assaulted with a tirade of curses and derogatory names, and then he went silent.

At first, I believed that there was something amiss with what the head said, but I was wrong. The quiet was shattered by the squealing of tires. The cry of the tires was almost instantly joined by the roar of gunfire. I still believe to this day the only thing that saved my life was the sound of the tires. When I heard them, I leaned a bit forward in the window, almost putting my head out of the doors. I had only expected an angry confrontation at that second, but coming face to face with the barrel of his gun as he extended his arm from his window, I instinctively ran for cover. The countless bangs from the gun and the screams of my fellow employees seemed to last a lifetime. No matter how I tried to drown them out by covering my head with

my arms, they remained just as horrifying. I'm not sure when the firing finally stopped, but I didn't even consider raising my head until another of the employees shook me. I guess at the time he was checking to see if I had been struck by any of the bullets, but regardless of his intent, I hesitated a moment before I sat upright. To my dismay two of the others working that night had been injured and although neither of them died I couldn't return to that restaurant or any of its kind for quite some time. Just now over six months after this happened can I finally see a business with a drive-thru window without having a panic attack. In the months since the attack I have spent a large amount of time and

energy in counseling in the hopes of regaining my courage and ability to be a useful member of society again. Whether it's due to feelings of guilt or fear the road has been a hard one and if it were not for the sense of purpose and the hard work ethic my parents have helped foster in me, I may not have even made it through school. Despite my heartfelt hopes and many prayers, the police have yet to find or arrest the thugs that attempted to take my life because of a freaking shake machine. The best I can do is continue to have faith in law enforcement and the universal force of right. I know someday, some way, they will be made to pay for what they have done. The only real solace I can find is the fact that no one has lost their lives because of

something I did or said. Working on and off part-time in the pizza delivery industry for the last 20 years, I can tell you a crazy story or two. Not all were experiences of my own, but they have all given me more than my share of bad dreams. One particular episode I went through about 7 years ago has stuck with me all these years and I'm fairly certain I'll never be able to fully shake free from it. About a year before what I'm talking about went down, I had befriended a guy at work everyone called D. I wasn't sure at the time what his god-given name was but that's the name everybody referred to him by so that's what I used. D was about the same age as me and liked the same music as myself. He even managed to introduce me to a few bands I

didn't know of and I did the same for him. On occasional days off we'd hit the clubs in search of the next great band but more often than not we just got blotto and hit on chicks. Something odd that I did notice was that he would occasionally get really aggressive towards girls that shot him down. I'd often find myself stuck in the middle of trying to de-escalate the situation and calm him down. Once he finally realized what he was doing, he'd laugh off his behavior. My initial opinion was that the aggression came along with alcohol consumption, but when he did the same thing before he'd even had a drink, it became clear that he had serious anger problems towards women boiling just below the surface. Soon, this reoccurring behavior became too much for me and I found

myself inventing excuses not to go out with him and I saw less and less of him outside of work. Despite this we still got along well when we were there so I had no reason to see him as anything other than a great guy I'd always known. As time rolled on, D's performance at work started to suffer, and our out-of-work interactions all but ceased. Strangest of all, his attitude toward other people at work became cold, myself included. My attempts to make small talk about music and such were often met with disinterest or downright silence. I figured he was butthurt about me not wanting to chase tail with him anymore, so I left him to himself to deal with his issues with me rather than push him on the subject. It was no big deal anyway. I was working less at the restaurant and was becoming more focused on

my business. D obviously was having some problems I wasn't aware of and they were affecting his work. He would spend longer and longer on his deliveries until one day he never returned. It wasn't until my next shift, a few nights later, that I found out that he'd been arrested. The cops picked him up on his last delivery and you'll never guess why. From rumors and the little information I got from the media, the cops grabbed him while he was attempting to break into an apartment. As the facts slowly seeped out, it appeared that D had been doing this a lot, usually while working. Not only was he breaking and entering places, he turned out to be a serial sexual offender that we'd had around the area for

years. Apparently, the individual in question was allegedly supposed to have assaulted and killed at least five women or possibly more since he started. I had had a hard time believing this all at first, but as I began analyzing his behavior towards females when we went out, it started to make sense. From the testimony of others, I was apparently one of the few who actually got a peek behind his mask. At least at first, but as the months went on, the mask began to slip and he was unable to hide his true self from those around him. This is probably the reason why he became cold and distant to other people. He couldn't hide his real face any longer.

I had moved on from that particular restaurant by the time the trial was about to start. He was only being charged for the attempted break-in and one assault and murder. The trial only lasted a few weeks before he pounced on the deal that he was offered. He managed to dodge the death penalty but still got nailed with a life sentence. He is currently rumored to be a model prisoner and lead guitar in the prison band. The authorities have made it clear that he isn't going to get away with any other crimes. In the future, when they have accumulated more evidence, they will go for the death penalty. Considering there's no statute of limitations on murder, I'm pretty sure they'll get it. I'd like to take advantage of this forum to share the story of the kindest and most beautiful woman

I have ever had the privilege to set my eyes upon. Despite her difficult upbringing and sometimes violent living environment, Sofia Hernandez managed to hold on to her inherent kind nature and loving soul her whole life. Although I was only in her presence for a short time, the amazing way in which she touched my heart will endure with me for eternity. My first meeting with Sophia was when I took over as the manager of a local Tex-Mex fast food place across town. I had been the assistant of another franchise location the next town over and this would be the first store I'd be running on my own. Sophia was the current assistant manager and had been at this

particular location for several years. From the second I was introduced to her, she had me wrapped around her finger. The most amazing thing was that she had the power over everyone she met, male or female, and she didn't even know it. Nonetheless, I knew I'd have to keep our relationship totally professional because I would need her experience in order to learn the ropes of my new job and the individual personalities of each employee. Her guidance proved to be just as priceless as I had hoped. Many times I would have surely have been reprimanded or fired if she hadn't been there to push me in the right direction. One of my greatest fears was that my bosses would discover exactly how clueless I was

at the beginning and send me back to my previous store, thus separating us. It took a lot of hard work and guidance from Sophia but I eventually got the hang of things. Since our job required us to work together most of the time, I naturally learned more and more about her life before I met her. Apparently, she'd grown up in the gang-infested hole just east of the tracks and she fell in love with one of the gangs. Although she wasn't directly involved with the gang's activities, being someone that hung around with its members meant most of her friends were. She soon fell in love with one of the guys from the gang and they had a daughter together. They never got married but because of their mutual connection with the gang most everyone thought of them as being so. Not long after the

birth of their child her boyfriend became violent toward her often beating her badly. She stayed with him for several years until the violence reached a life-threatening level and one night she grabbed her daughter and slipped out into the night. For quite a while after that, she lived in fear that he would find her and end her life, but it eventually began to appear he didn't care. So she moved in with her mother and felt safe enough to let her hair down. I noticed from time to time she would get phone calls or texts that would upset her, but I chose not to pry. It was about nine months before I could no longer fight my heart and

did what I'd swore I'd never do. On a late night inventory, I finally got the courage to ask her out. I probably spent a good five minutes getting to the point and perhaps even longer assuring that she was in no way required to say yes for the safety of her job. When I'd finally run out of things to say and stopped talking, she simply answered yes and that was how it started. Even though I'd done my best to keep it between the two of us, the other employees found out. To my surprise, most of them were happy to hear that I'd done it and she said yes. The occasional pat on the back and word of encouragement made me wish I would

have asked earlier. On our first date, we'd decided to keep work a professional environment and that worked well. Things between us were going very well. We'd just went on a second date and it looked like things were about to get much more serious. A couple of days after that date we were scheduled to open the restaurant together but she was running late which was unheard of from her. I called her phone several times but only got the answering machine. Then about about 15 minutes before opening, a male employee returned from the dumpster with a shocked look and no color in his face. That's how I found out that she was dead. Of course, the cops came and all of that. I'm

unable to be super specific because I was in shock at the time. It wasn't until her body was taken away that I broke down in tears and I stayed that way for some time. One of the managers from another store filled in for me for a few days until after the funeral. When I returned, nothing was as it used to be. There was a giant hole in the sole of the restaurant and most of us walked around in a daze for a long time. The investigation is still active today, even four years later. Her boyfriend soon became the number one suspect, and his actions soon after her death did him no

favors. He'd fled into Mexico, and despite the law enforcement officers of two countries searching for him, he's still free. There's been multiple sightings over the years and everyone still has hope he'll eventually be apprehended. Personally, I hope he tries to shoot it out with the police and they spray him with bullets, at least to start with. I often still have dreams where I see him on the street and I strangle him to death with my bare hands, but I know I'll never get the satisfaction. If he is ever caught and returned for trial, it'll make it my number one goal to see him get the death penalty. However, after all those thoughts of revenge and punishment, I'm reminded of Sophia's kind and forgiving nature, and I think

she'd wanted me to move on with my life and heal. That was one of the most amazing things about her. She could forgive and forget. Every time I'm reminded of this, I realize she was the finest of this world, and none of us were good enough to deserve her. I thank you all here for letting me vent and allowing me to share this story of an angel. Hold your loved ones close. We never know how long we may have with them. Unless you've been under a rock your whole life, I'm sure you've heard of multiple examples of crazy stuff being found in people's food at several of the fast food restaurants around the world. Being a former slop herder myself in my younger years, I could fill an especially horrible and gory tale about one girl's split-second mistake and the circumstances that followed. I'll attempt to be brief with the lesser important details, but nonetheless they are still important so I must include them in the story.

Fresh out of high school I lacked any real qualifications, so I shuffled around the state of Michigan working low-paying jobs hoping to find a place to settle down and start a family. In the early part of 2012, I ended up in Jackson, a relatively small city about 40 miles away from Lansing. Not planning to stay long, I took a job at a fast food place. Because of what you'll hear later, I'll leave out the name, but I will say they really like meat, and leave it at that. Things were soon going smoothly at work and in my personal life. I'd just met this 22-year-old chick with a young son, and we soon moved in together. I was beginning to believe that I'd finally found someone to settle down with. Unfortunately, the relationship would later fall apart, but at that time, I thought the restaurant may be a stepping stone to better things. I would often volunteer to work extra shifts, and soon my dedication paid off and I was promoted to assistant manager.

It was said no one had been promoted so quickly so I worked my tail off to prove I deserved the job and all was great until one stupid girl screwed it all up. It was your average May morning in Michigan and I was working as usual. I had no reason to believe my job would soon be at risk and the store would soon be embroiled in a health-related scandal. At the time, I was in the back doing something and I was notified that there was a very important phone call I needed to take. At first, I thought something was wrong with my girl, but when I picked it up and heard what it was about, my stomach hit the floor. Apparently, a kid had found a part of a finger in his roast beef sandwich and

he was currently at the health center getting blood tests. I did my best to speak calmly but my first reaction was to stop serving until things were resolved and that's just what I did once I hung up the phone. It took a moment but the girl responsible finally admitted that she had cut off part of her finger while slicing roast beef and hadn't bothered to tell anybody. How in the world can you cut off the tip of your finger and continue to serve food as if nothing happened is a mystery to me? But that's exactly what she did. Needless to say, once the story got out, I was in some hot water. After I had sent her to the hospital to have her injury dealt with, I had to notify my bosses of the situation.

Of course, they were livid, and I got the brunt of the venom for not noticing when one of my employees was injured. Rather than standing up for myself, I took it in the backside like a good company man. Eventually, everything was dealt with and the health department allowed us to stay open. When the bosses heard that a civil suit may be in the works from the mother of the boy, I was basically assured that I would be let go. Thankfully, she decided against it, but when the media found out about it, I knew my days were numbered and turned in my resignation. It was possible, if I put my head down and was a good boy,

I could have maybe have been able to keep my job, but I certainly would have been demoted, and I worked too hard for that. The discussion with my girl when I came home was far from supportive. In her opinion I should have let myself get fired instead of quitting. Even after I made it clear that quitting would look better on my resume than getting fired, she already dug her heels in and logic could find no place in her head. I had already had to deal with enough crap, I didn't want to have to catch it at home, so later in the week I moved into a motel. I knew since the media had already released the story, the chance of me finding a well-paying job in a small town, Jackson, was out of the question. So after spending the next three days

on the phone, I finally found an opportunity working with my brother in the Texas oil fields. Drilling oil was out of my comfort zone, but Michigan was played out for me, so I took it. As far as any other information regarding the finger food, I only know what I've seen online and that's very little. Perhaps I could have weathered the storm and held onto my job since the press seemed to have little long-term interest in the story, but in hindsight I guess I'm glad the whole mess happened. I've got a much higher paying job now and despite it being hard on my body, it's satisfying. I've been here probably longer than any other place since I left school.

It's looking like I truly found that place to settle down in. As far as the family part, I'm working on that. I've met a few girls, but no one that's marrying material. When I finally meet that one, I'll let you know. Life as a father has kept me too busy to share this story until now, but better late than never, I guess. This didn't actually happen to me or anyone I know. It was told to me by a friend of mine who used to carpool with myself and a few others back when I was a garbage man. Yes, I was indeed a garbage man, but that's another story for another time.

If you all are nice to me, I may share it in the future, but that's not why we're here. Now back to the point, I'll do my best to be as accurate as possible when relaying this story. Although I'm nowhere near the storyteller my pal is, I'm more confident that it can stand on its own in the drama department. Now, hopefully, that will be enough details and we can get to the story. The guy who told me this is Billy. At the time the story took place, he was working as a small independent pizza delivery place. Another driver working there was some dude everyone called Mac. One night, not long before Bill quit, he took a phone order from a customer that made him

uncomfortable. He couldn't really specify anything that he had said that set off his alarm, but he still got a bad vibe from the guy and he refused to deliver the order. This caused a bit of an uproar with management at first, but soon, Max stepped up and volunteered to take the pizza. He claimed he had delivered to that address before and, although he was a little odd, the dude was no threat to anyone. Being more than happy to get the boss off his back, Bill let Mac take the order and whatever tips that may come with it.

Once the pizza came out of the oven, Mac quickly boxed it up and took off to deliver. Here is where we'll have to rely on a lot of conjecture and clues accumulated at the scene, but from what they could piece together, this is what happened next. Mac made it to the address and delivered it like normal. Despite the light being out on the street, he went about his work per usual. After dropping off the pizza and getting paid for it, Mac returned to his car and was about to leave the scene when he was held up by one or more people. Even though all the cars had bold signs reading that the drivers carried no more than $20, robberies were not out of the norm. It appears that he thought he could get away from the thief by driving away.

However, the assailant managed to get one round off and struck Mac in the neck. The car only made it about 30 yards before it crashed into a light post. The medical examiner is fairly positive Mack was dead by the time the car crashed. To make things even worse, the thief must not have been deterred by the noise of a gunshot and the mere fact that he killed a man for about $21.58 because he ransacked the wrecked car and Mac's dead body for the money until he found it and only then did he flee the scene. That's one cold-hearted man. Eventually, somebody must have called the cops and they were the ones that contacted the restaurant.

Bill did admit to me that even after these years later, he felt bad for not being the one to take the delivery, even though he's glad he wasn't the one to be killed. He feels as if he sent Mac off to die that night, but he acknowledges that Mac volunteered to take it. That fact still does little to allay the guilt he still feels. Mac's death was the final straw for him and he quit a few days later. To his knowledge he's almost positive that the killer was never caught. Not even after a week after Mac's death his boss told him to take a delivery just three houses away from the one Mac had been killed in front of. This was it for him. The company had just lost one driver in that area and now they

were trying to send him back into that nightmare. At that moment he realized that his boss was no different from the scumbag that had shot Mac. Their only care was for money and he didn't want to be another sacrifice on the altar of greed. My name's Missy D. As some of you may know, I've worked my butt off to pay my way through college. I did have a small amount of cash put back, but it wasn't near enough to get me through a whole four years. So the moment I arrived in the dorms I hit the bricks on a search for employment. It wasn't long before I scored a job at a small Italian style fast food dive just off of campus. The place was owned by two guys who we'll call Joe and Tony. They had come to the states as teenagers and worked various jobs until they

had enough money saved to throw together and open the restaurant. Even though they had the knowledge of Italian food and the look of two men from the boot, I believe they were actually Albanian by birth. Despite being very close friends, the two men were quite different from each other and because of this, they would often butt heads. But the disagreements never grew violent. Tony was the fun one of the two. Working with him was always enjoyable and I did my best to make sure I was scheduled to work the same shifts with him but school sometimes prevented this and I was stuck working with Joe. He was almost the exact opposite of Tony. A shift didn't go by without him cursing out one of the employees, myself included. Half the time, you didn't even know what he was calling you because it was in a different language, but his body language said it all. I can't count the number of times I wanted

to quit, but I knew I couldn't let my ego screw up my life, so I swallowed my anger and kept my head down. I didn't know it at the time but things were already collapsing behind the scenes and I wouldn't have that job for much longer anyways. About a week before Christmas break I went in one evening and saw that both Joe and Tony were in the restaurant. This was unheard of in the six months that I'd been working there and I quickly noticed a heavy feeling in the air I didn't like. I clocked in as usual and went straight to work. The strangest thing was that Tony nor Joe was talking to anyone other than short questions and phrases. Although it was

pleasant not to be yelled at by Joe, Tony's cold demeanor only served to make me even more uncomfortable. All of us did our best to do our job and things were going well until around nine that night. I'm not sure how it started but Joe and Tony were standing at one of the sandwich stations speaking in Albanian. From their body language I could see that it was one of their usual heated arguments but instead of choosing to walk away as one of them often did, the argument grew more loud and aggressive. Even though we were doing our best to ignore the disagreement, we still had orders to fill and we needed to be in the same area from time to time as them. They had been arguing back

and forth for about ten minutes when I had to go to the walk-in to get some olives. Upon my return from the cooler, my focus was diverted by a loud phrase yelled out by Tony. I could tell from his tone it was something bad and it must have been considering Joe's reaction to it. The whole time that they had been talking, Joe had been slicing sandwich toppings and waving his knife around with each word like a conductor's baton. However, when Tony said whatever he had, Joe's face went blank. For a second, he stood and stared with a look of disgust on his face. But then, in the blink of an eye, he plunged the chef's knife into Tony's chest. Naturally, I froze and didn't know what to do. A look of shock grew across Tony's face once he realized what had happened. He continued to stare at Joe for a few seconds before he said,

What have you done, man? No. Then he slumped to the ground like a bag of potatoes. Joe looked down at Tony as he bled out and continued to stare for a short moment. I didn't know if he knew I was standing behind them, so I did my best not to move. Joe looked down at Tony as he bled out and continued to stare for a short moment. I didn't know if he knew I was standing behind them, so I did my best not to move. Another of the girls must have been coming from the front and witnessed the same thing. We stood still, looking at one another, trying not to draw Joe's attention. Her eyes were as big as saucers, and I imagined mine looked the same. I had no idea if he would come after the rest of us and the sick feeling in my gut got worse and worse. Although I'm not sure

how long this all lasted, it couldn't have been more than a minute. Looking up from Tony's bleeding body, Joe slowly turned towards us and I saw the hurt look on his face. It seemed as if though he was about to speak but he stopped himself. Then he briskly walked between the two of us and out the back door. The second the door slammed shut we both ran to Tony. His eyes were starting to roll back in his head and the pool of blood was growing larger and larger by the second. It wasn't until then I remembered I had my phone in my pocket. I pulled it out and dialed 911. While I spoke to the dispatcher, the other employee gathered up a few towels and packed them around the knife to slow the bleeding. I quickly yelled to the girl running the register to lock the doors because there had

been an accident and someone was badly hurt. After she did this, she ran to the back and began screeching when she saw Tony on the floor. The girl helping him on the floor told her to shut up and she did and she kept staring at him. The paramedics showed up in less than five minutes and when they loaded Tony up, they said he was stable. We filled the police in on the history of Joe and Tony's relationship and the business. The two of us that had witnessed the stabbing gave a description of Joe and they picked him up before we had even left the restaurant. They said they found him walking on the other side of the road not a mile away. When they asked who he was, he confessed to the attack and began crying. Once that was taken care of, the waiting began Day after day, we prayed for Tony's recovery and after two days, he started to improve

But by the end of the week, he passed It was said that when Joe heard the news, his wailing could be heard throughout the entire jail Considering his obvious regret, the DA decided to charge Joe with second degree murder. Joe took a plea deal and will be in prison for at least the next 15 years. Since this happened in 2005, he'll likely be getting out in the next few years. I briefly considered showing up for his parole hearing and arguing against it, but despite his nasty disposition, I know he regrets killing his best friend and will have to live with that till the end of his days. So, I'll just leave it to fate to decide his future, just as it does for us all. on the next video. And join my Discord to interact with me and other listeners directly. And if you want to support me even more,

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