The Lets Read Podcast - 47: Episode 044 | Crazy Dentist & Home Alone Stories | 32 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: September 16, 2019

Welcome to the forty fourth episode of The Lets Read Podcast! This podcast includes narrations of true creepy encounters submitted by normal folks just like yourself. Today you'll experience horrifying stories about Crazy Dentists, Stalker Ambushes and Demonic Encounters. 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  Update Description

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Same game, parlay, it's all fine You'll put a smile on your face Bet on the sports you love with BetRivers Sportsbook. Take a chance! We'll be right back. When I was about six years old, around 2004, my mom started taking my sister and I to Dr. Daniel's pediatric dental office. The dental center was located inside a giant yellow mansion that also doubled as Dr. Daniel's house. It was honestly gorgeous. When I first started going to the dentist I was extremely shy and actually suffered from selective mutism and had a lot of autistic-like tendencies. Needless to say I relied heavily on my mother's comfort and for someone to give me a voice because it was extremely anxiety-inducing

for me to talk to strangers, especially men for some reason. When my sister and I got called in from the waiting room my mom followed us to the office until she was told by Dr. Daniels that parents were not allowed to be with their children as it taught kids independence to which my mom complied to. Once in there he immediately separated my sister and I and in reaction to that I cried because I felt scared. Dr. Daniels did not like crying so he grabbed me and put his hands over my mouth and nose, shook me and aggressively warned me that if I continued to cry and scare the other kids that he would make my situation a lot worse. Obviously this just scared me even more so I started to cry again. Dr. Daniels had enough and took me into his house, part of the dentist's

office where he screamed at me again, grabbed me by the neck and shoved me. His hygienist Judy came over and told me if I continued to cry she would spank me so hard I wouldn't know what had hit me. After words he gave me a juice concoction and left me alone in his house for about five minutes until he took me back into the dental office and did work on my teeth. I guess I just instinctively knew that if I wanted to survive I just had to act like I was not terrified and hold on to the tears. All I wanted was my mommy. After the first appointment, my sister and I told my mom that we were scared of the dentist and that he was a mean man, but she just took it as me being an anxious child, so we continued to see him.

Each visit was just as terrifying. Every time we pulled into the mansion, my heart just melted away inside my chest I was so scared. It was no longer pretty to look at. Every time we went to the dentist Dr. Daniels or the tooth man as he called himself always had us have heavy dental work procedures done. We had seals done on several baby teeth and plenty of teeth removed, some with his fingers with no regard to pain level at all. And often when having a tooth removal or seals done your mouth had to be open with a retractor. He would leave us there with the retractor on for about 45 minutes or so before he came to work on our teeth. Sometimes he would eat his lunch while we sat there with our mouth open.

Probably one of the worst pains I had ever felt in my life. I remember one time when I was about in third grade, I had been leaned down in the chair waiting for the retractor on for about an hour. I was in so much pain I couldn't take it. I sat up on the chair and tried to scream and cry as loud as I could. Dr. Daniels came rushing over angry as could be, took my retractors off and then took me back into his house where he screamed at me for being a big baby and scaring all of the other kids. I was so sad with myself because I hadn't cried in so long. He then took me back to the dental chair and then pinned me down to my seat in a straight jacket.

He put my retractors back on and said that I would have to wait longer because I caused such a scene. All I could do was shed silent tears and drool everywhere and I couldn't even wipe it because he locked up my arms. Afterwards my mouth would become so swollen and filled with rashes, it hurt to talk for days. It would leave bruises and swells as soon as I left his chair. He would often tell my mother I was a difficult patient. If I so much as winced at his torture. Once he removed six of my teeth at once and I could barely eat. While he ripped out teeth, he would often sing songs.

It reminded me of almost Sweeney Todd. When I was in 7th grade I started getting some new braces and we started seeing an orthodontist. Not long after that we stopped seeing Dr. Dan and started seeing a new dentist who was actually nice. I had never known that getting your teeth cleaned didn't have to feel like going through a saw trap. I think my mom took us out of Dr. Dan's practice when the orthodontist looked at our dental records and saw a lot of unnecessary procedures being done on our mouths. Not long ago I was having a conversation with a friend about our childhood fears and instantly my mind went to the tooth man. Curious, I googled him to see what had happened to him and to my happiness

the practice was shut down. Also left under his name was a Yelp page that is still left up. The page was filled with numerous one-star reviews from former patients that were once abused as kids in his office, using the page as an outlet to express their trauma. I started to cry because their experiences were so close and some identical to what I went through when I was a kid. It was so sad but at the same time really validating to know that I was not alone. A lot of the procedures we went through were just a scam for him to collect money off of our parents' insurance. And now that I think about it

he probably was so adamant on us not crying and screaming for help because he didn't want parents to hear and come and see what was going on. I shake thinking about this. I really pray that he hasn't opened up another practice somewhere else. I know it's hard not to blame parents in this situation, but the truth is, this man was a swift abuser. For every bruise and swell we had, he would have dental explanations that would make the parents feel stupid for asking. He was an authority figure. I don't blame my mom for not believing us. She knew he was firm, but probably thought we were confusing firmness with meanness. To be honest, even writing this, the torture was so wild it actually sounds made up. She eventually did come around.

She's not alone, as there were hundreds and hundreds of patients that were duped and deceived by him. So this happened over the span of around a year when I was 15-16. I'm 20 now and it only recently had been revealed to me how messed up this situation really was. I was still living at home at the time but my sister who is seven years older than me had moved out and was living with her now husband their high school best friend and some other dude that they met via one of those find a roommate sites he was kind of the reclusive nerdy type much preferring to hide in his room watching Star Trek and playing computer games than to actually hang out with the roommates. And the only person he ever really seemed to want to be around was his similarly shy and nerdy girlfriend. For a little context of the story, at the time this happened he was 28

and she was 24. They were both a little weird but initially seemed entirely harmless. For ease of telling the story and for saving on characters, the friendly roommate will be FR, weird roommate will be WR, and his weird girlfriend will be WGF. Now, my sister and I have never really had the best relationship with our parents, and at this point, things were especially rocky. Our mother was dating a guy who was, to put it kindly, an abusive, terrible person who seemingly loathed me and would find any excuse to go off at me. As a result, I spent a lot of time staying over at my sister's place. It was around that time I'd spend a lot of time there that WR and WGF started to get

really strange. As I said earlier, the pair of them were always kind of odd. They only ever seemed to want to speak to each other and would even go so far as to ignore anyone else who spoke to them. WGF was worse than WR for this by a mile. He would at least give you monosyllabic responses most of the time. She had a kind of creepy habit of just blankly staring at you for a couple of seconds and then walking away if you asked her a question or tried to engage her in conversation at all. This isn't a really weird behavior though.

When I would stay over, I'd sleep on a futon in FR's office space, which was on the ground floor. It happened to be next to the downstairs bathroom, which for some reason WGF vastly preferred to the upstairs one. She would take long showers in the middle of the night, which is whatever. I'm a pretty heavy sleeper and she wasn't a shower singer or anything like that, so I generally slept right through them. One night however I stayed up incredibly late doing revision and homework and happened to be awake after she finished her shower. I was too absorbed in my tasks to really pay attention to anything else but I definitely noted hearing the shower shut off because that was my indicator to

how late it really was. Approximately ten minutes later I look up from my laptop and there she is. I always kept the door open just to crack because that room tended to get unbearably hot if I didn't and she was standing there, outside the room, completely naked, watching me through the open crack in the door. I said her name and asked if she was okay, which seemingly startled her because she walked away pretty sharpish. I convinced myself that in my over-caffeinated, sleep-deprived state, I'd imagined the whole thing and didn't mention it to anyone. Fast forward around a month and I head over to my sister's one night to find FR kind of agitated about what he perceives to be a peeping Tom problem.

He found fingerprints on the outside of his office window in such a way if you looked through at the sides, and the room was on the front of the house and the window was easily accessible from the street. He'd become concerned that some random passing pervert had been spying on him while he was having a private moment, so to speak, in his office or else some potential burglar had been sizing up the joint. The police were called, but as they didn't have any external CCTV at this point, no evidence could be provided and ultimately not a lot could be done. To combat this escalating further, FR installed both internal and external CCTV on the house. This was installed whilst WR and WGF were away on a holiday and I guess everyone just forgot to tell them about it. Another couple of months later I go to my sister's to find WR's room empty

and inform that he has moved out. Of course I ask why and I was informed simply that he and WGF were a pair of creeps and the others had collectively decided to kick them out. Apparently, her watching me through the office door was not a one-time incident. The CCTV footage showed that she regularly made a habit of standing and watching me through the cracked door, sometimes for as long as 20-30 minutes. I was just usually asleep when she did it. Not only that, but the fingerprints on the window had quite apparently been from WR standing outside and watching me after I'd showered and was hanging out in just a towel which was a less regular occurrence but apparently was caught on camera enough times for it to

be concerning. As if this wasn't weird enough in and of itself, I was recently hanging out with my sister and her husband and he passed a comment about how he wishes that they'd told me the full story at the time so I could have chosen to press charges. I asked what he meant by that and he revealed that not only had they both been secretly watching me, the CCTV also showed that they'd mess with food and stuff that I bought, including clips of him licking all of my apples, her spitting in my orange juice, even dumping regular cow's milk in my lactose-free stuff, which explained why I had a period of feeling really sick from nowhere. To top it all off, apparently when F.R. barged into their room to confront them about it,

he not only found that several shirts I thought I'd misplaced elsewhere had been stolen by the two of them and literally hung up on their wall, she had done several drawings of me sleeping and written a poem called Ode to Me, whose contents I don't know and don't really want to know. Apparently FR gave them an ultimatum of you have two hours to get out of this house and never contact her or me again or any of us or I'm calling the police and they took the former option. They've never tried to contact me subsequent to this but I feel sick thinking of what they were potentially planning. This happened about a year ago. I'm 16 now.

He's going to be 20 in August. We met through the internet, it turned out he lived in a city right next to my village. I was 12 then, he was 16, we quickly lost contact. After two years I texted him again because my friends edited a photo of him and dared me to send it. He seemed nice, we had a lot of shared interests and talking with him felt pretty natural. I was used to age differences because for some reason I never meet people my age so I didn't mind it. He took the bus to my village a couple of times and we hit

it off pretty well. He even met my best friend. Then I heard he had a Skype call with one of my online friends specifically that he told her how his last girlfriend supposedly ended herself because of him because of the horrible things he said to her. My friend felt like he was beginning to crush on her maybe because she was nice and all too kind. The other friend voiced her worry over him, turning her into his ex. She was understandably grossed out. My friends talked with him about it and I asked why he had told them but not me. He said I was too immature to understand. I was upset. I was the person who introduced him to my friend group and he was now trying to forcefully cut me out of it. My friends had enough and cut him out instead. I didn't. I felt really bad for him. He was an orphan. He lived alone, had issues with alcohol and a lot of trouble with depression. Losing

three people could have been devastating so I kept messaging him, maybe out of pity. He turned very, very creepy, very fast. Suddenly, he called me darling. I was over the moon because I caught feelings, a little puppy crush on someone I knew I could never date, but who gave me hope that maybe, just maybe I could. He spent more time with me, sent me pictures and videos of him going on about his day, nothing too unusual. Until one time we called while I was busy playing a game on my laptop. I don't remember exactly what was said, but I remember him being very excited that 15 is the legal age in Poland. I was excited too, I don't know why. I remember being very, very stiff, even though this was just a harmless phone conversation. The joke was until February because I'd turned 15 then, he was supposed to visit. he told me that his psychiatrist said she had never met someone so young that has lived through

so much even though our conversation wasn't about depression at all I felt so bad for him that's why I never said anything about the things he did that creeped me out or made me feel unsafe because I was afraid he'd feel worse and do something to himself he told me that he tried to end his own life a couple of times so what if it was I that ended up becoming the reason he tried again? He'd already told me about his issues with loneliness and abandonment. When he visited, I learned he still had feelings for his supposed dead ex-girlfriend. He played a song that was their song. Every word in it described their relationship. While we were in my room, he was close to crying, but I had no idea what to do.

He put me in this situation even though he knew I wasn't equipped to deal with it. Once, when I was upset, I told him I don't want to be cheered up. I just didn't. I wanted to be alone, so he sent me tons of texts, pictures, and cheap cheer-up lols, things he found on his phone. It was the one time I somewhat sort of created a boundary, and he broke it immediately with a oops sorry too late message following. I had a school trip in October and I had a good time. From what I remember but for some reason I just lost all of my feelings for him then and there. Maybe because for once I didn't force myself to feel bad for him and constantly check if he's online, wants to talk or if something happened. Maybe because all my friends thought we were going to date and it was

really unnerving that they didn't see anything wrong with it. I cut contact with him later, very, very slowly. I deleted him off of things he never checks, blocks his number, then blocked him on Facebook. He noticed. I never looked back. Later on, through yet another friend, the only one that kept contact with him, I learned that his ex wasn't dead. Or maybe she was. There were screenshots of him talking with a family member about the funeral, then screenshots of him talking about moving in with a girl two years older than he is, who's the love of his life,

who had the same name as his ex. They sent a picture that was supposedly to prove that he was in a psych ward but even my friend refused to believe him. I don't even know what he was lying about in the end or if he was even lying at all. The next school year I'll be going to school in the city he lives in and I know he's still out there. For context, I'm from Germany and the legal age to drink here is 16, for beer and wine, and 18 for liquor. So on the day I turned 18, me and my best friend decided to go out to our nearest city to grab some drinks at a local bar. This is quite popular, but since it was a Tuesday night on school summer break, there weren't that many people around, so we just enjoyed spending time together,

meanwhile sipping on some margaritas. All of a sudden, the waitress, who I actually kind of know because she previously graduated from a school I went to, comes up to us saying two men wanted to buy us a drink, pointing at a table on the other end of the outdoor section. At this time it was around 10pm and even though it was midsummer, it started to get dark, so we didn't really see what the guys looked like at first. We just thought, eh, screw it, why not, and went over to thank them. At this time I recognized that they were a younger looking guy in his early to mid-twenties, Max, and a middle-aged man that was obviously already intoxicated. The younger guy, let's call him Tom, asked us to take a seat and,

since he seemed like a nice guy that wanted to chat, we agreed. So as we were talking, getting to know each other a little bit, I noticed the older guy intensely staring at me, like he didn't even blink. I looked at him as I noticed him and it was then when he said, how old are you? You're so beautiful. Do you even know how beautiful you are? I told him I just turned 18, laughed it off, clearly being uncomfortable and thanked him for the compliment, since I knew he was clearly drunk and tried to change the subject. As we were talking about life in general, Tom tells us that the older guy is actually his neighbor, who is currently going through a divorce, and so we wanted to distract him with a night out. We thought it was sweet of

him to help this guy going through a hard time. Then he mentions his neighbor is an architect, encouraging him to maybe talk about his interesting profession rather than creeping on a freshly 18-year-old because, at at this point he was constantly interrupting our conversations to tell me kind of inappropriate things like how sexy and special he thought I was. Then the conversation turned dark real quick. The guy started to talk about how he doesn't seem to have any sense of life anymore and that he wanted to end his own life. I also struggle with a lot of depression since I was a child so I wasn't super freaked out. I was more like feeling sad for the guy and tried to

calm him a little bit while texting my best friend that was just seated next to me on how we can maybe get out of that situation. But then he said, I can't. I just want to end it. I have a knife on me right now. I'm going to do it right guy but we had just met him maybe one and a half hours ago and you never know what an intoxicated man that claims he has nothing to lose that also carries a knife on him is capable of. Me and my best friend being scared now come up with a plan over text to fake a call from some male friend of ours that we wanted to meet up. So she changed his name and her phone quickly to a guy's name and I called her while hiding my phone in my pocket of my vest and let me tell you, this chick performed the most realistic phone call I had ever witnessed. So good actually that for a moment I was like, wait, is she really calling me or did she find a friend to call? At that point, the man is

just begging us not to go, making us even more uncomfortable. But we just apologized ourselves and as we were about to leave, Tom asked me for my number. I wanted to leave quickly so I gave him my number, which he called immediately to make sure it was legit of course, but blocked him right after he texted me. If you ever read this Tom, I'm sorry, you really seem like a sweet dude, but this night was just not it chief. Me and my best friends still kind of joke about it to this day, how quickly from zero to a hundred it went that night, and how we were definitely not prepared for this. Nothing happened to us that night, but it was frightening nonetheless. Stay safe, ladies and gentlemen, because even though nothing happened to us in particular, you never know what people are capable of. This is a story with a happy ending, I promise.

It's a recount of some unsettling events I went through during my college years, as well as the most amazing example of the bro sixth sense I have ever witnessed. So without further ado, meet Kevin. Kevin was a colleague of mine and was in the same group as me, which meant we had maybe five to six subjects per year together. Kevin was odd. Not that there was something wrong with him physically, he was adorable. A bit nerdy, a bit on the shorter, scrawny side with blonde hair, big blue eyes and like three fluffy hairs on his chin instead of facial hair. If I had to compare him to something I'd say he looked like a cute soft baby chicken, if baby chickens were mentally inclined to grow into serial killers,

more on that later. At first I didn't really notice him, there was a lot of people in my class, everything was new and I personally did not know anyone except for a guy named Harper, whom I knew from my sports days as we often competed against each other, exchanged colorful insults on the track and then go get drinks together. Harper will be important later on. So as I've said, I only knew Harper there and there was only six other girls in my class as I've attended classes that held little interest among the female college population. During that time, I made friends and got really chummy with three more geeky guys.

Zachary, whom I even casually dated for a short time, Steve, we realized our mothers went to college together too, instant friendship, and Rick, with whom I shared many interests. So to count it down, important guys so far, Harper, Zachary, Steve, and Rick. These are important. These would later become my personal army. And then there was Kevin. Cute Kevin, whom I made the mistake of asking if he had any notes

picked up from the first half of a lecture I missed because I overslept. And Kevin speak, Hey, got the notes from this morning? Apparently translated into, I have interest in you, oh magnificent Kevin. Nothing would make me happier than knowing I have caught your eye. So please, make sure I am never left without your presence again, for I cannot bear it. I borrowed his notes, partially copied them, and returned his notebook back.

What I didn't see was that Kevin then sniffed the notebook when I had my back turned. Zachary noticed at first and snort laughed about it later because my first reaction to it when he told me was to sniff myself and see if I stank or something. I was young and naive then, so the sniffing was less what's wrong with him and more what's wrong with me, and that's where it all went downhill. All the next few weeks, Kevin would always be there, never talking to anyone precisely, just kind of staring at me when we were in class,

when we had breaks and went for coffee to the shop outside. And then he started showing up for classes we did not attend together and said he simply arrived too early for his later classes. He never participated, just sat there in the back. Also, Kevin had a sort of aura about him. Like you didn't have to look at the door to know when he entered the room, you just felt his eyes on the back of your head and kinda wished for a shower. I didn't worry too much, until one day I went to the woman's bathroom during a break. I did my business, went to the front section to wash my hands. In came Kevin. I was alone.

Kevin turned, closed the door behind him, and locked it. Needless to say, I was confused and unsure of what to do, so I just stared at him and asked him if he needed something. Hi, he said, and then proceeded with, how are you? Like he hasn't just locked himself in the women's bathroom with me for no fathomable reason. I realized something was very, very wrong and attempted not to panic, managing to keep a nonchalant expression and turn towards the mirror so I could still see him and pretend to fix my makeup. It's fine, I said and spoke no more.

I could see Kevin's fidgeting, playing with the key nervously, and after a long and uncomfortable silence, an eternity really, I heard loud banging from the other side of the door. It was Harper and Steve, Harper yelling something like, Kevin, get your scrawny butt out here and open the door. I swear to God, in the next ten seconds, the door ain't gonna be the only thing I'm breaking. I could hear Steve behind him, sounding a bit panicked, telling him to move since he managed to get the spare key. Kevin paled and stepped

away, the key he had falling somewhere to the floor. Stephen Harper unlocked the door and Harper jumped on Kevin like a primate and knocked him to the floor while Stephen Rick, who was there as well, got inside and all but dragged me out of the bathroom area. None of them wanted to tell me what or why or how any of that happened but I pushed at the weakest link Rick when we were alone and found out that a whole hour prior to all of that Rick overheard Kevin asking one of the on-campus students, the guys who got some extra cash if they help with paperwork fixing and cleaning the campus, for the lady's bathroom key and paying him for it. Rick didn't know why Kevin would need that key, but knew that Kevin was a weirdo, so he figured it couldn't be good. Later on, Steve was looking for me and asked Rick if he

had seen me and stuff kind of clicked for Rick. They asked around and people told them they saw me go to the bathroom area and I didn't come out yet. More confirmed they saw Kevin going there too and joked that there must have been a makeout session going on inside. Steve immediately connected the dots. Harper overheard him talking to Rick and they went to break me free from Kevin's affections while Steve ran to get the extra key from the janitor. Kevin appeared with a light black eye in class two days later and just wishing to forget the whole thing. I pretended he didn't even exist. I wish this was the end of it.

Be a week or two went by I figured he'd learned his lesson, he's leaving me alone, but then he got the wind in his sails back for some reason and proceeded with attempting to sit next to me in class. He was so insistent that Zachary got involved in how the guys, Harper, Zach, Steve, and Rick, made a timetable. So two and two would attend classes at all times when I was there, so each could sit on either side of me. I never asked any of this of them, they just insisted. After a few failed attempts, Kevin gave up and settled for sitting in the back, glaring at my back and the two guys on duty that day. I wish this was the end of it. Two weeks of that later, Kevin either didn't show up for class or left early.

I hoped he'd found some other interests and that it was finally over. Not quite. I noticed Kevin was now following me to the bus station. It took just one time to see him standing inconspicuously behind the newspaper stand to freak out and call Steve as he lived nearby. Steve picked me up and drove me home. The next morning, Harper called me around 9am and went, are you in my class at 10am today? Yeah? Well, pack your stuff and wait for me at the end of your street. Kevin is waiting for you at the bus.

Steve just called me. This went on for some five days as the guys extend their bro services to now accompanying me literally at all times before, during, and after class. Just to point out yet again, I am eternally grateful for it. These four dude bros of mine were like the four horsemen of the apocalypse. All business and vengeance, and it was amazing and have probably saved me from a lot more problems with cute Kevin. That day, Kevin showed up to class looking somewhat roughed up, but now stared at me with so much hate I could barely cope and finally, after some advice from Harper and Rick, decided to bring this stuff to college authorities. The pro dean immediately transferred Kevin to a completely different group, so our classes never overlapped again.

I stopped seeing Kevin all the time and reached my final year in college. By now, Zachary and Steve moved away. Harper finished it early and no longer attended classes, so it was only me and Rick now, but it was okay, since Kevin was no longer there. I wish this was the end of it. Rick and I finished college, graduated, and decided to celebrate by visiting a medieval fair in Rick's hometown that summer. We agreed to get some drinks for old time's sake. All was well. We had a great time as we toured the fair a bit, and suddenly, Rick, the sweet, polite Rick goes, No way. If that ain't Kevin. It was Kevin.

Cute Kevin is there staring at us then turns on his heels and leaves. We saw him a few more times. I started to panic, thinking he's following me again so Rick was already dialing a few of his friends to come over but Kevin suddenly got lost and I never, ever saw him again. Carry on, Kevin, you creepy little chicken. Hope you learn to function in society by now. So this happened to me on Thursday, April 25th, and I still can't shake off how terrifying and strange it was. I was home alone getting ready for my 12 o'clock college class that morning, and I opened my blinds to to see a man in his mid-thirties wearing a baseball cap roaming around my property with his hands on his hips

walking with a lot of confidence Our yard is kind of like a cliff and it looks over our five acres of property down below I live in the Pacific Northwest so it's pretty scenic I was really confused and thought maybe it was a worker that my mom had hired for renovations on the house, admiring the view. I'm a little bit uncomfortable at this point because the dude walks to the side of my house out of sight. I head upstairs to see him now roaming around my front yard in my driveway, looking at things, checking out my house. He still hasn't seen me at this point. I call my dad and asked him if we had hired anyone to come by the house and he says not that he knows of and tells me

he's going to call my mom and ask her and then call me back. I'm waiting for the call when I notice this strange dude's car. It's a white Honda with no license plates Just parked parallel to the front door The dude still hasn't seen me and he's still wandering around So I take this as an opportunity to remember that we have a security system And I armed it So if he did try to break in It would immediately alert the police If this was some sort of professional or worker

He would have rang my doorbell or knocked at least once. He did neither. Just then, I get a call back from my dad saying neither him or mom hired anyone to come by today and that I need to call our local police station immediately. I went back downstairs after making sure to lock every door and window upstairs and calling my city's police station. I explain to a woman on the other end what is happening and she decides that she's not going to send an officer out and instead gives me a number to call their emergency dispatch line and told me to talk to them. I call the number she gave me and immediately I get an automated message

saying thank you for calling my town's name not emergency hotline nobody is available to take your call right now if this is an emergency please hang up and dial 9-1-1. At this point I'm really irritated because 15 minutes has passed and this weird dude is just lurking around my house while I'm home alone and apparently that wasn't enough to warrant an emergency to the lady I called at my local police department. I hung up and decided to call 911. After getting in touch with the 911 operator I was asked a series of questions about his appearance before they could even alert officers near me to start heading toward my house.

The whole thing seemed really weird. Nobody was in a hurry to have officers come up to my place when I was a younger girl home alone with a strange dude. I asked the lady if I could stay on the line with her when she finally, after what seemed like forever, alerted police to come to where I was. She agreed and I went back upstairs to check on the weird guy and he's now sitting in his unplated Honda either listening to a radio show extremely loudly or on a phone with someone through his car. It was a very prominent loud male voice coming from his car.

Then all of the sudden I hear the tone you hear when someone hangs up on you and the operator was no longer on the line. I was really confused when my thoughts were interrupted by an unrecognized phone number calling me. I assumed it was the operator calling me back so I picked it up. Instead I was greeted by a really creepy heavy breathing. I'm not sure who it was but it freaked me out. I hung up immediately and dialed back 911. I had been pretty calm up to this point but that phone call put me in panic mode. I got on the phone with another operator who already knew my

situation and address before I could even explain it to her. She said the cops were on her way. 20 minutes had passed at this point. The dude is still here in his car and the cops aren't. Keep in mind I live in a rather smaller town so there is no reason why it took the cops as long as it did to come down. Finally this dude is leaving my driveway right as the cops pull in and they stop him and ask him a few questions. A cop then comes to my door and hands me a sketchy looking flyer saying it was just a landscaper. He said he had an appointment. I was really relieved and irritated that it was just a dude my mom had hired. Until I realized it wasn't.

I called my mom back and said the cop said it was just a landscaper that you hired and that he had an appointment. My mom replies with, I can assure you that we never hired a landscaper. We don't even need one. This happened a few years ago and honestly is the reason I'm so much more cautious when I'm out and about nowadays. As in, keys between my fingers past is the reason I'm so much more cautious when I'm out and about nowadays as in keys between my fingers past 6 p.m. if I'm alone and spray deodorant in my bag if I can fit it in as well as occasionally carrying a craft knife in my bag too. I'd had an interview in the

city center and had met with a couple girlfriends afterwards. I was dressed quite nicely, white blouse, black cardigan, black trousers, not jeans, and some cute kitten heels. It had been raining and so I was quite damp and black, you can fill in the blanks. Looked like the result of a wet t-shirt contest on a car wash gone wrong. My friends had to go home so I hopped on the bus that stopped essentially right outside my house. It wasn't late, maybe like 4pm and in the summer so it was still light out and had stopped raining by now. I sat at the back of the bus where you usually have 9 seats, 4 facing backwards, 5 facing forwards so the heat from the engine of the old bus could warm me up a little. This guy, Frank, was already sat there, but he was tucked away in a corner, and I had

headphones in so assumed he wouldn't talk to me or was harmless. I was incorrect. As soon as the bus took off, Frank shuffled over next to me and said something. I took an earphone out and asked him what he said and he basically just said, hey, how's it going? What have you done today, missy? I replied politely and started putting my headphones back in but he started talking again. This time he introduced himself and reached out to shake my hand. I gave him a fake name, thank you parents for teaching me about quick thinking and hammering it into my skull, and shook his hand. He wouldn't let go for like a solid minute and was staring at my cleavage

before I even said my name. I pulled my hand away and he put his on my thigh. This is where I should have got the bus driver involved or at least moved seats. Guess what? I did neither of those things. We talked for about five plus more minutes. I think the physical touch sort of sent me into minor shock, to be honest. I just froze. He started asking me personal questions after asking how the interview went, such as who I live with, would anyone be home when I got home, etc. I lied and told him my stupid girlfriend would be waiting for me as she cooked dinner for me. I was hella single, but he didn't need to know that. As all creepy old men on buses do, he started asking about our relationship. How long we had been together. Would we get married? Did we want

kids? Would we need a donor? Your usual nonsense, really. While he was asking all this stuff, a young guy, Sam, who was maybe my age at the time, had gotten on the bus, made eye contact with me and sort of half smiled, then went back to the top deck. So after Frank asked the somehow line crossing question of will your girlfriend be waiting for you in the shower, I stood up and told him I'd recognized a friend, go upstairs and practically ran up the stairs to the top deck where I explained everything to Sam. He let me sit by him in case Frank came upstairs after me. The question was line crossing for me, I think, because of the way he stared at me when he said it. I was vividly remembering him licking his lips and clearing his throat and everything. It was

vile. I got home about five minutes after going upstairs. Frank was thankfully no longer on the bus. When I got into the house, nobody was home. My parents and sister were all out elsewhere and I tried calling them all but nobody answered. So I cried and shook and threw up, alone, for almost two hours. I was a shaky mess even when they got home and had nightmares for weeks and saw him everywhere I went, although when I checked, he definitely wasn't there. Never saw him again and wrote in a report to the bus company, I think, telling them the day and rough time I was on the bus, where I sat and roughly what he looked and I look like. I honestly got the creeps just writing about this, even though I've wrote about it briefly in an ass reddit comment in the past. This happened when I was around 10. I live in a relatively small country and it only took a couple of hours drive to get from my house to my aunt's in another county. This story starts off with me and my mom driving home from my aunt's.

We were driving on a country road when this battered looking minivan started driving in front of us at a roundabout. We were the only two cars on the road. There were gardening tools and a tarp in the back window It was clearly the driver was either drunk or a complete idiot They were repeatedly swerving out of their lane like they were in a video game Like a protagonist of some sort It was a hot day so both of our cars had the windows down So we could hear what sounded like a sermon blasting from their radio.

We drove behind them for roughly seven minutes with my mom muttering about the state of the country. The minivan abruptly stopped in the middle of the road which roughly angered my mom. The driver did an illegal u-turn during which two things happened. I saw the driver's face. He was a skinny middle-aged man with dirty yellow hair and a beard and we both got a look at each other's license plates. The driver turned into the opposite lane and drove past us, heading back into town, still driving erratically and almost hitting us.

After he was gone, my mom pulled over and called the police to report him, giving them his license plate and a description of his appearance. The cop thanked us and promised to get right on it. When we were nearly home, my mom got a call from the guards where they were told that they had arrested the guy who had warrants for drug dealing and domestic abuse. My mom was thanked and we all joked about her being a hero over pizza that night. Cut to a few weeks later when school had started up again. I had gone with my dad to the hardware store. While my dad was at checkout I was looking out at the parking lot when I saw the battered minivan driving out of the lot.

I didn't see the driver so I convinced myself it was only a coincidence although my dad noticed I seemed uneasy for the rest of the night. A few days later my mom came home early from work looking like she had just ran a marathon. She gave me and my brothers tight hugs and we were sent to bed earlier than usual that night. I didn't learn about this next part until last year. The reason my mom was acting so weird is because her secretary had reported seeing a strange man inspecting the license plates of my mom's car. My mom asked what the man looked like and froze when she was given the description of the guy we had reported. That weekend my mom didn't want any of us kids leaving the house but I was a stubborn little

broad and all but demanded to be allowed out for a quick walk around the neighborhood. While I was out and roughly 15 minutes walk away from my house a vehicle drove past me. It was the minivan and the same man was in the driver's seat giving me a friendly nod. As soon as he was out of sight I ran back home and told my parents who immediately bundled all of us into my dad's car and drove to stay the night at grandma's. I was put in the guest room but had zero chance of falling asleep so I was wide awake for all the drama that happened that night. My parents called the cops and informed them about the man stalking us. A couple of hours later a squad car pulled up outside

and the officers told my parents everything. When they arrived to our house, they had discovered the front door had been forced open. Some of our nicest possessions had been smashed and were left in shards on the floor. And that's not the worst part. The worst part was where the police found the man. In the pantry, holding what a female

officer described as the biggest knife she had ever seen. My family has a cabin in a tiny 150 resident hamlet in British Columbia and it's been a long running tradition for everyone to stay in it all summer every year. Because we're there all the time, we generally know all of the locals minus the few people who rent other cabins from the owners. One particular year when I was freshly 18, I was out there with all of my favorite cousins. Since I was older, I normally took on the role of looking out for all of the younger ones, especially the girls. After a late breakfast, we headed down to the beach which was unusually crowded since the hamlet was currently celebrating its town days,

so there were hundreds of people from neighboring towns flocking in to party. At the time, most of my family went fishing, so I was there with just three of the girls. Brooke was second oldest to me being twelve, then Emma eleven, and Ria eight. We sunbathed for a bit and made sandcastles and finally headed into the water to cool off. I'm kind of a wimp, so I took my sweet time getting into the water to cool off. I'm kind of a wimp so I took my sweet time getting into the water after them. I was about up to my butt when a guy walked up and started talking to me. He introduced himself as Shane and said he loved my tattoos and wanted to say something while we were on the beach but couldn't build the courage up until now. I thanked him and we made small talk and I found out he was only a

couple of years older than me and his family also had a cabin in town that they visit every summer. Strange, I spent the last 18 years of my life spending all two and a half months of summer here and I definitely didn't recognize him. I brushed it off and maybe had seen him and he just hit a crazy face altering growth spurt that some of my own cousins had gone through. We continued talking and I couldn't help but notice that I got a really off vibe from him. Eventually my cousins waited over to see what was going on and he introduced himself. All five of us ended up spending a couple of hours just hanging out in the dock, chatting or playing dock wars where everyone would fight to push each other off. I knew my grandparents would be starting dinner soon so we said our goodbyes and I walked

back to the cabin with the three girls. Later that evening I was sitting on the deck with the other adults and Ria and Emma. We heard a quad rolling down the front street, extremely common as quads are the main source of transportation in the area, and Emma perked up saying, Hey, it's Shane. I glanced up and noticed he slowed his yellow quad to a crawl when he passed the front gate, then sped off again. I asked if she sure it was him and she insisted it was. I immediately felt the

iffy feeling I had about him intensify because we never told or showed him which cabin was ours so that meant that there were two explanations both equally unsettling. One he would have had to have followed us back from the beach which I know was entirely out of his way home since he told me where his cabin was. And two, he could have been cruising around trying to spot me and spot which one we were in. Regardless, mission accomplished. He now knew. The next day, the same three cousins wanted to hike to the rope swing which was three miles down the Trans-Canada Trail that ran directly behind the cabin. I of course volunteered to take them, it sounded fun.

We exited into the trail through the backyard and just as we were reaching the old trestle bridge, now just a rickety old footbridge, we see a yellow quad coming towards us. We moved out of the way and he stops in front of us and I see it's Shane again. The typical hey how you doing's happened and before I could stop her, Rhea tells him we're going to the rope swing. I didn't want him to tag along after he went out of his way to find our cabin last night. Thankfully he said he was heading into the bigger town just now, so we parted ways quickly. Twenty minutes later, we're nearing the halfway mark of our journey. For probably the thirtieth time that day, we heard a quad coming up behind to pass us so we move over.

As soon as he passes, I see it's Shane on his yellow quad. Awesome. Guess he decided to join us after all. I'm not confrontational so I smile and wave to be polite and he responds by intentionally spinning his tires to spray us with loose gravel and dirt and then speeds off. What an idiot. My bad feeling about him shot way up so we turned around and decided to just go to the beach instead. At this point Brooke told me she didn't like him and he gave her the creeps while Rhea and Emma chimed in with, yeah he's weird. I'm glad they already knew to listen to their instincts as well.

The next few days were uneventful. We only saw Shane in passing on his quad but I no longer waved at him after he pulled his little gravel stunt. The three girls would always alert me and each other if they saw him which I was thankful for because he started acting a little hostile when he passed us. He would slow down and crawl past us close enough to almost run over my feet then speed off while giving us or just me the finger. Keep in mind I was never rude to him. Everything seemed cool when we hung out the one time, and I kept my nicest face on despite being uneasy about his presence, yet he seemingly had some vendetta against me. Maybe I accidentally

let on that I didn't want him to join us at the rope swing. I'll never know. About a week later I was sitting on the deck reading when a group of the kids wanted to go to the general store for candy. I opted out this time. My book was getting really good so my uncle took all seven of them to get the snacks and I jokingly said to watch out for yellow quads. Fifteen minutes later I hear kids yelling with the distinct voice of my uncle and they run up to the driveway saying, she trying to run us over. What? I asked what had happened and my uncle tells me that while they were leaving the general store he had spotted the familiar kids and apparently made a beeline for all of them, speeding up. My uncle stood between the quad and the group and Shane had turned away the last second, missing them by inches.

Immediately all of the adults were in a rage, asking who this guy was and why he had done that. The four of us gave the lowdown on him and they told us to avoid him. Obviously. We discussed reporting it since it was bordering on violence, but we decided not to for a couple of reasons. One, other than his first name, I had absolutely zero information on him. Two, in a small hamlet one hour away from the nearest town with emergency services, cops were very, very few and far between. My grandpa said it was unlikely that they'd even consider it worth their

time, so we dropped it. The rest of the trip was great. No one saw Shane again for the remaining days. I thought the weirdness was over, but unfortunately I was wrong. Because of circumstances out of my control, I wasn't able to go back to the cabin next year. The following September we had a big family dinner which was the first time I got to see some of my cousins in a year. Partway through the night Emma and Brooke run up to me and say they saw Shane a lot again that summer. My stomach dropped and I asked them if he kept up to his usual antics. Unfortunately, he had. Since I wasn't there, I guess he switched his main focus to Brooke. Thankfully, they were smart girls, so they kept avoiding him,

even going on missions, as they called it, communicating by walkie-talkies to make sure he wasn't around whenever they went anywhere. It honestly made me sad to hear that these kids had their fun, carefree summer tainted by having to watch out for some idiot on a yellow quad every day. I couldn't believe he was still bothering them. They said they had a couple of more close calls of him speeding towards them but he never got more than a foot away before turning back around. I asked their parents if it was true and they were as uneasy as me, saying he would prowl back and forth in front of the cabin in the evenings to the point where they had to yell him to buzz off. I've been back for the summer getaways off and on since then, but I haven't

had any more encounters with Shane. I haven't even seen the familiar yellow quad, which makes me think that he hasn't been back at all. Brooke, Emma, and Ria continue to make little jokes here and there, like don't let Shane get you when people leave the cabin. But otherwise, the whole ordeal has been mostly forgotten. As much as I hate the fact that those innocent little girls got caught up in it, I also know it was a great lesson to them to trust your intuition about people and be wary of strangers, especially the ones that follow you home and try to run you over. As teens, my friends and I went to lots of shows.

I'd say most of the people I still know today are people I met at some hardcore show at some dirty venue. Being a 110-pound girl at the edge of a pit with too many beers in her, I sometimes got bumped into, but it didn't bother me too much. So one night this absolute beast of a man comes and stands in front of me and fends off all of the drunk punks and makes sure that no one bumps into me or my best friend Joyce. How sweet of him. So the months turn into years and we all grow up a bit and start going to less and less shows. I was at my tattoo artist when I bump into Bryson in the waiting section. We catch up a bit. I find out that he works close to where I live. We have a massive chat. He asks about Joyce. He asks if we're still inseparable and if she still works at the same place. He's super sincere and kind and he's well known in our scenes so when he asked for my number I didn't have an issue giving it to him.

After that we're texting often but not often enough to make it a thing. Every time I die was on tour in my country a few weeks later and it was during the rainy season of the year. Joyce and I obviously had the time of our lives. Bryson was there and we had shots with him. If I'm going to tell you how I lost one of my shoes in the mud I'd be lying because I honestly have no idea how it happened. I just woke up minus one sneaker and didn't think too much of it. They were old anyways. This is where things started

getting weird. I'm at my part-time job when one of the guys from the van store rocks up to my shop. He has two pairs of vans in my size and says for me to pick one. I try to explain to him that I don't have any money for shoes right now, but thanks. He then says, hey, don't worry. The guy with the tattoos paid for them already. You can have either one of these pairs. The guy with the tattoos? That could be anyone, I thought. The only tattooed guy I could think of that would buy me new sneakers is probably my ex, but he lives in a different country now, so it's virtually impossible. I ask the van's employee if he has a name for me, but he says no,

so I pick a pair and decide I'll try and figure out who got them for me when I'm on my break. Just as I'm about to finish work, Bryson meets me at my shop. The guy with the tattoos, I ask him, and he says it was him that bought the shoes. I say thanks and offer to repay him, but he says he would just like to take me for dinner. I politely decline, so he offers to give me a ride home. Weeks and months pass. A random text from Bryson here and there. Nothing much. I got a boyfriend. We broke up a year later.

I moved out of town and back again. By now, I'm an adulting woman. I run into Bryson at a show and we have a massive catch-up. He seems happy. He's doing well in life. He asks if I still have the same number. He asks about Joyce and if we're still inseparable. I say yes to everything. At this stage, I'm working at a shop in a strip mall. As per what I guess became a little

tradition, a package from Vans arrives at my shop. They're addressed to me. My size, not really my style. I message Bryson and he says it's a gift and he'd still like that dinner. Again, I offer to repay him and kindly decline the dinner date. A week or so passes and he arrives at my shop with two bags full of lush goodies and lunch for myself and my colleague. He says he's been in the area and he felt like doing something nice for me. I felt overwhelmed and said that there's no way I can accept this. He insists. He says how the sales lady at Lush said that she wishes she had a guy buy her so much nice stuff. I offer to repay him still, just dinner. I say to him that I don't want to do that because I feel like I'd be wasting his time and leading him on. He says that he would never think that I don't want to do that because I feel like I'd be wasting his time and leading him on.

He says that he would never think that I was messing with him because he loves me. Loves me? Okay? That escalated fast. I was without words. When he left, I sent him a text asking him to never buy me gifts again. He didn't reply. Fast forward about a month,

I'm having a housewarming Halloween party at my apartment. I'm dressed as Mia Wallace and Joyce as Beetlejuice, and we're busy getting ready. I already have a dozen friends downstairs having fun and being social. Suddenly, another friend of mine hammers on my bedroom door, freaked out. There's a guy with a gun downstairs asking for you. What? A guy with a gun?

One of my guests? As I'm trying to figure out what's going on, my housemate bolts upstairs, pushes me into my room and closes me inside. Bryson is here dude, he has a gun. Joyce is hyperventilating. I gave him your address. He said you invited him to your party, but you never sent him the link to your place. I'm sorry, I didn't know. Oh my god. I'm freaking out and screaming at my friends to just call the police.

Eventually my friend managed to talk him into putting his gun away, saying that if he doesn't, we'll call the police and he doesn't want Bryson to get into trouble. I watch my friend lead Bryson outside back to his car. My last memory of Bryson is him crying loudly, pacing up and down in front of my apartment block, repeatedly hitting himself on the head with his gun. I blocked him from any way of possibly contacting me and I haven't bumped into him since. I'm not sure if he's in town anymore. Apparently he found a job about three hours from here. I ended up moving somewhere else but I still work at the same place. I hope he's figured out that you can't buy someone's affection, nor scare it into them. I'm a 20 year old female and this happened to me about a month ago.

One night I was at an old school friends of mine with some other people I hadn't seen in quite a while. To be honest I was feeling good and much better than I had in a long time. A couple of days later my best friend and two male friends and I, only one of whom I actually knew, were going to go on a trip to Morocco. So the guy I knew well was also at that little party and after everyone had only been drinking beer and the wine was empty, he and I decided we wanted more wine. A few of us headed to a girl who only lived a few blocks away to get some more. When we got back the guy and I downed pretty much one bottle on our own. I must note here that I hadn't had a drink for about a half a year before that so it definitely had somewhat of an effect on me. Soon after that everyone decided they wanted to go home. I didn't realize what time it was. One of the other guys and I could ride our bikes

together for a while before he had to go straight ahead where I had to go to the left. He asked me if I was okay going on my own and I laughed and assured him yes. We separated and I had turned on some music to listen to over headphones. I took my usual route along smaller streets before taking a path along a lake. I always took this path home whenever I had been out. Along the lake is this creepy statue of a boy holding a fish in his hands which has always given me this weird feeling but tonight it was way more intense. The feeling didn't leave but I quickly brushed it off for being somewhat drunk for the first

time in a while and returned to the happy thoughts I had about the nice evening and the upcoming trip. Because of previous encounters and some things that happened to me in the past I am actually scared very easily when alone and am not this stupid and naive. If I hadn't been a little drunk and so distracted by my thoughts, I would have acted differently, probably not have gone along the lake at night, which I only did when I was drunk. Thinking back now, I am so thankful this happened on a night I wasn't wasted to the point I could barely talk, which was not a rare occurrence in my teens. As I was about to turn right, going away from the lake, I noticed a

young looking man sitting on the bench before the path separates. He had what seemed like a long board beside him on the ground, and I immediately thought he was rolling a joint, the way he was positioned and staring at his hands. He was wearing a hood over his head, but I could make out a pair of glasses as they reflected the light of my bicycle as I passed him. I immediately had the feeling that something was wrong with him. I now blame my good mood and slight drunkenness for thinking about turning back and asking him if he was alright which is why I became slower and slower as I was about to take off my headphones.

I suddenly got hit by something very hard right on the back of my neck, bottom of the back of my head. Next thing I know, I'm sitting on the ground and can't see anything. The impact had caused me to go blind temporarily. Then I felt myself being ripped off the ground by my hair and I held onto them, trying to ease the extreme pain in my scalp. Then I began screaming. I screamed as loud as I possibly could, as I had learned that this was the only way that most robbers and killers would get lost out of fear of somebody coming for help. So I'm being dragged by my hair and screaming so loud I thought my ears would bleed.

I then thought someone holding their hand over my mouth, trying to get me to shut up. I didn't ever stop screaming, not even when he tried to choke me by pulling on the collar of my jacket. I remember thinking that this is the end, this is how I'm gonna die. Out of nowhere I realized that I can hurt him too. Somehow I managed to turn myself so I was facing him now, all the while he's still grabbing my hair. Then I kicked, just anywhere really. I kicked and kicked. I could feel the bottom of my foot colliding with something hard.

As I was able to slowly see again, I made out a figure holding my bicycle above me and was preparing for the impact. Next thing I know I was on my feet, still screaming but by now yelling help as well, running towards a female voice. A small woman was standing not too far away and asked me what was wrong and told me to come inside with her. As she led me to a gate I could make out a male figure on the other side and immediately started to panic somehow thinking that that must be the same guy and they work together but as she reassured me that was only her husband and I realized he was also much older and not so slim I went into

their house where they called the cops after I had told her everything as well as I could in the state that I was in, I fell into a much worse state of total panic attack for several hours, so she had to tell the policemen what had happened. I heard them say they found a pair of broken glasses on the path, but the guy was nowhere to be seen. I had dealt with the police in my town before and since they hadn't believed me after a friend and I had been drugged and abused a few years ago, this just made my panic worse and worse as I thought no one would believe me now too. My parents had to come and pick me up. I stayed in this horrible state of panic for another two hours before I could go to bed, only to fall right back into when my mother opened the window and I could

feel him standing right behind me. I screamed and cried and after some time I did finally calm down. The next day my mother combed my hair and she pulled out whole strands of them. I did go on the trip with my friends, thinking it would be better than staying so close to where this all took place and being swallowed by fear. I still believe it was the better decision, but I could never stay alone with the guy I don't really know, as he was also wearing glasses and was about the same build as the scumbag who attacked me. After going to the police and making a statement, I have been told that they most likely will not find him but they did have his DNA since they had found the glasses so if he ever did something like this or any kind

of crime again and would be caught he would be charged for this assault as well. I just really really hope that I nor any other person never encounter this guy again. At the time of this event I was 18, living in a large house in a wealthy area of England. It was the Easter holidays and my parents were away in France, leaving me at home to study for my upcoming exams. I had always enjoyed having the house to myself and was looking forward to being able to cook whatever, watch movies and study in peace. I had little reason to be fearful as our house was big, modern and separated from the local village by a very long driveway. I really enjoyed the week. I would eat instant noodles and revise during the

day, go out with friends and then watch Netflix till late in the night. We'd had a lot of thunderstorms around this time and the heavy rain and wind would set off the burglary alarms, much to my annoyance. I never thought anything of it and would dismiss my alarm going off as wind, so I'd sleepily turn it off. On Saturday afternoon a sound startled me from my revision. It sounded like something had hit one of my upstairs windows. I turned off my music and listened, thinking I must have imagined it so I turned my music back on. Five minutes later there was another noise coming from upstairs. It sounded like something had been knocked over. This time I jumped up, heart thumping and racking my head for a plausible explanation but this time one wouldn't come.

I sat frozen for a minute before remembering that I could access the home CCTV imaging from the family computer. I checked the last hour and there was nothing, so I instantly relaxed and laughed at myself for being so scared. Little did I know my jumpy instincts were about to save me. I started cooking dinner. The kitchen faces a set of glass doors on the far side of the room and it was now night time so the glass reflects the light of the room and attached hallway now night time so the glass reflects the light of the room and attached hallway. I'm in the middle of serving up the food when I glance up to see not only my reflection but one of a man standing in the hallway. He was short and scruffy and had something I could not make out in his hand. He was staring at me through the reflection, motionless. My body went into flight mode.

I ran across the kitchen to the back door and flung myself through it, running terrified down my road. Fortunately, I had my phone on me and called the police. I didn't see the man emerge from the house as I hid behind a bush in the driveway. Everything felt like a blur as the cops checked the house. They found nothing and I started to wonder whether I just imagined it. It wasn't until an hour later that I found out the information that would haunt me for the rest of my life. The police checked the CCTV and found the footage of the man entering the house. He entered on Thursday night, two days before this

incident happened. The unwanted housemate was soon found after and identified as a local homeless person. The incident was expected to be a burglary gone wrong. He was sentenced and is no longer a threat. However, I will never be comfortable being home alone again. Just a bit of background. Me and my sister are three years apart and I have always felt like a protective older brother to her. We've been very close throughout our lives, so what she experienced annoyed me a great deal. So this was a few years ago, and our parents had recently split up, and my dad had found a new girlfriend. My mom had moved out and bought her own place, which left me, my sister, and my dad alone in the house. My dad has since moved out of there.

I was 18 at the time making my sister 15. Fast forward a few months to when I first met my dad's new girlfriend. She was nice, really quiet but at the time I wasn't really bothered about forming a relationship with her. The woman wasn't the issue however. She had two girls who for the purposes of this story we'll call Charlie and Rosie. Rosie was around 9 or 10 years old and Charlie was around 13. Rosie was a little hyperactive but was nice enough and quite intelligent for her age but Rosie was never the issue. It was always Charlie. The first time I ever felt weird about Charlie was when my sister called me up one time. I was staying in my mom's house and my sister was at my dad's. My sister sounded freaked out which

immediately put me on high alert. My sister was telling me that she had been spending the night with my dad, girlfriend and the kids and was getting weird vibes from Charlie the entire night and then when it came to bedtime Charlie insisted on sleeping in my sister's room. When my sister was getting ready for bed however my sister caught her going through her stuff and of course told her off for it but Charlie didn't seem ashamed or anything. Then when it was lights out my sister heard a weird sound in the darkness coming from where Charlie was laying. My sister laid there confused and a little creeped out until Charlie got up and left the room to go to the toilet. My sister told me that Charlie's phone was on and a picture of my sister and her friend was on the screen.

My sister then told me that she was pretty sure that Charlie was touching herself over the picture. At this point me and my sister already didn't like Charlie but what happened next makes my skin crawl. So in our old house our bathroom had a lockable door which could be unlocked from the other side as long as you had something like a coin to turn the lock. But when we were all getting along me and my sister must have showed the girls this. One day, we were all at my dad's and downstairs getting ready to go out for the day, and my sister had said that she was going for a shower. I was downstairs, being an adult and trying my best to get to know my dad's girlfriend

that I didn't even notice Charlie slip out of the room. Then about ten minutes later, I get a call from my sister asking me to come upstairs. When I go up my sister looks panicked clutching a towel around her still dripping from the shower. She begins to tell me that she heard knocking on the door to the bathroom. When she stopped the shower to ask who was there, no one responded. My sister says she finished her shower and when she got out, heard running down the stairs. When she looked at the door, it had been opened. Charlie had been watching my sister shower. This absolutely sickened me and still does but I can't even imagine how my sister felt. Thankfully my dad and his girlfriend broke up and we've never had to see Charlie and Rosie again.

And that's probably the way we'd like to keep it. A few months ago I started working the breakfast shift. This means that every time I work this shift, I'm the only person in the department for a minimum of an hour. So there's no one to interfere with or debunk what I'm experiencing. And the only way into the rest of the hospital is through a door that is locked from my side. And the person that comes in after me opens that door when they get in. Aside from the usual unexplained noises here and there, distorted sense of time and sometimes reality, items moving from one end of the kitchen to the

other or disappearing altogether just to appear elsewhere, there is something that happens almost every time I work. To explain this, I need to give a small bit of background. The door from the outside opens right into a locker room and within that locker room is a door that leads to a storage room. There is only one key to the storage room, this detail will be important later. Every morning I use the key to open the storage room and when I do, the keys get stuck in the lock. This never happened when I unlocked the door while I was training for the position with a co-worker. When the key gets stuck, the lockers on the other side of the room begin to rattle and I am stuck wrestling with the key for several minutes until eventually it relents.

This happens every morning without fail. However, when one of my co-workers came in this morning, they went to go into the storage room only for it to be locked. This door does not lock from the inside and I still had the key from when I unlocked it two hours earlier. When I unlocked the door for the second time, it did not get stuck. I'm assuming because I was not alone. Another thing that happened this morning, I had to bake off pre-proportioned scones that were marked but frozen together. I used my key to gently bang them against the table in an effort to separate them. This made a very rhythmic bang sound that rang through the

kitchen with a distinct pattern. I turned to put the box back in the freezer when the very heavy steel door that was completely open before swung shut behind me. It took some muscle to get the door open again, but that could have been the result of me not having been caffeinated and it was 4.30 in the morning so I could have been weak. When I not having been caffeinated and it was 4 30 in the morning so I could have been weak. When I broke free the exact same pattern of banging sounds that I had been making to break apart the scones sounded like it was coming from the other end of the kitchen about 70 feet away. I called out thinking maybe the bread delivery had come early and walked over when I received no response and no one was there. I am not the only person who has experiences like this and I was actually

brief before working on an open shift alone to things I may experience by someone who is very serious and a religious person who has been working there for over 30 years. Bearing in mind his warning and experiences he has shared with me, I believe something may be taunting me as my experiences have been more apparent and confrontational. Am I overreacting or should I be worried. Back in the late 90s and early 2000s I worked as a maintenance custodial individual for a school and a church. They were located on the same campus with the chapel, offices, kitchen and multi-purpose room for dinners, events, etc.

This was also a brand new school and the building connected to the school with an area which one set of steps to the gym and another set of steps downstairs which was the cafeteria for the school. The cafeteria had a kitchen and outside the cafeteria was a hallway which went around as there were doorways to other rooms, locker rooms, bathrooms, and another stairway that had a pop machine next to it which led upstairs. This will be important to the story a little bit later. As you went up the stairs, on the other side there was an area outside of the gym. A foyer one way led outside and the other to a ramp leading to the school. Both entryways to the gym had lockable gates to secure specific portions of the building. I was working second shift at the school and sometimes the shift went into midnight and beyond.

It wasn't uncommon for teachers to come in and out throughout my shift no matter how late to get their prep done for the following school day. One evening I was coming off the elevator into the main hallway to take out my trash which was bookended with doors which led to a stairwell on each side as well as doors to the outside. As I stepped off the elevator I heard the outside door of the stairwell close. I went to take my trash out from the hall door to the stairwell and to the door which led outside. I was in the stairwell and heard someone running up the stairs. I didn't think too much of it because, like I stated earlier, this was not uncommon for teachers to come in late. It wasn't until I got outside and dumped my trash bag into the dumpster that I realized the stairwell light had been off and that there were no cars in the parking lot.

Immediately I got chills and my skin reacted with goosebumps. It did cross my mind that maybe someone got dropped off but thought that would be a strange thing for someone to do at midnight. I went inside and searched the four floor building inside and out and no one was in the building. My heart had been beating hard the entire time and I was truly creeped out the rest of my shift and that unsettling feeling followed me home. Fast forward two weeks later and I was doing my nightly rounds of checking doors, gates, making sure everything was secure before I left for the night. This particular night I was downstairs by the cafeteria and ready to go upstairs on the other side when I heard the cafeteria's kitchen door slam.

Now, I know it was the kitchen door because when you work at a place long enough you tend to know the sounds everything makes I froze in my tracks and got chills I said hello and didn't hear anything but also didn't want to stick around long enough as the events of two weeks before were still somewhat fresh in my head I was pretty scared at that moment, ran upstairs, locked the other gate, and ended my night. This story happened when I was 17 years old. It was 2am during a 4th of July. I woke up in the middle of the night feeling thirsty so I decided to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water but before I did my room was pretty dark so you could barely

see anything. I was too lazy to turn the lights on so I walked in the dark instead. I go into the kitchen when I turn the lights on I see my sister standing there facing the window. I was a bit confused. I mean, why would anyone just stand there staring at the window in the middle of the night? Unless something was going on, but there was no sign of anything really going on. At first I laughed about it, but then I got annoyed by it, so I told my sister. Hey. Hello. D told my sister. Hey. Hello? Dasha?

Dude. Dude. Dude, answer me man. Stop being weird. Go to sleep, we have to wake up early in the morning and help out with the flood. It's freaking 2.30am or something right now, go to sleep. Still wasn't getting any response. Uh, look, whatever man. I don't want to hear you complaining in the morning about not getting

enough sleep. I got my glass of water, went upstairs to my room, shut the door and went back to bed. I forgot to mention my sister and I share rooms and we have our own separate beds, so when I heard my sister's bed move, my eyes were wide open. When I slowly turned around to see my sister sleeping in her bed this whole time, it got me to the point of panic. I said whispering, What the? How? If I literally saw her in the kitchen like a minute ago. I didn't want to wake my sister up and tell her because she's a very paranoid person and gets scared really fast.

Later that morning at around 11am, me and my sister were up helping my mom cook and decorate the backyard. I thought of telling my sister right there at that moment what had happened earlier that night but like I mentioned my sister gets paranoid and pretty scared quickly so I decided not to tell her and just ignore it. Later that evening my sister and I were playing games on the playstation in the living room. My mom came and told us that they were going to start lighting up the fireworks. Since I love watching them, I asked my sister. Hey, do you want to come with me outside and watch?

Nah, you can go. I still want to keep playing. So, I ended up going. An hour passed. It got dark. We were still lighting up fireworks. Until I got a feeling of someone watching me. I looked across the street to see my sister standing there looking at me, and I turned around to see if anyone else had saw her, but right after I turned back to look at her, she wasn't there anymore. Me, I began to freak out. I ran back into the house to see my sister still playing on the PlayStation. I was so freaked out and frustrated so I had no other reason but to tell my sister. I asked to speak with her urgently. I took her to the room and said, look, I don't want

to creep you out or anything but earlier earlier today, in the morning, around 2am, I thought I had saw you in the kitchen, just standing there. Staring outside the window, I kept calling you and calling you, but you weren't responding back. I went to get a glass of water, and when I went back to the room, I heard your bed move. I turned around to see you sleeping there, even though I just saw you like seconds ago, in the kitchen, and I saw you again outside across the street. I'm really scared. Ashley? I... Yeah? Yeah? The exact same thing happened to me.

Instead, this time, I saw another you. I had the fastest heartbeat ever. My blood felt so cold running through my body. Are you... Are you kidding me? Because I'm being serious. Dude, I'm not messing with you. I'm serious too. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to scare you,

but the other night I was up and when I looked outside the window, I thought I had seen you, but you were sleeping right next to me the whole time. I knew then right away it couldn't be anything other than one of those doppelgangers. What? A doppelganger? Someone who looks very identical to you? After that conversation with my sister, I haven't felt the same. Especially what happened that night after the 4th of July. I pulled an

all-nighter but everyone in my social media was asleep so I gave up and went to bed. I like my windows open during the summer since it gets really hot but still didn't feel safe having the window open so I got up to close it. My heart was beating so fast when I look outside the window. I saw my sister's doppelganger standing outside and right next to her was mine, both directly staring at me through the window. It's been over a year now since it happened. I really do hope to never see them in my life again. I was born, baptized, and raised in a very common lifestyle in my area, the Evangelical Church. The church classifies themselves as non-denominational Christians, which implies

that they are of their own identified branch. You see, most of what this church really is all about is only something you pick up on if you grew up as a skeptic. Thank God I grew up always asking questions about different things, God being one of them. My dad told me the most important thing was my personal relationship with God and to take most of what I heard and apply it how I can. My childhood was mostly innocent until I was 10, and I'm going to go into how my friend's church was before going into my home church. Now her church was on the extreme end of the spectrum of the evangelical religion. Their Sunday school classes were filled with worship that was sometimes a rock concert and other times they were more lyrical and had the kids do dances to the music.

I wasn't a fan of either of these worship surfaces because 1. The rock concerts were too loud and 2. The dance moves didn't make me feel closer to God and we looked silly and unhappy. We were told to obey your mom and dad or God will be disappointed in you. You must do everything your parents want to do even if it's wrong. From a very young age I was fed messages of if you don't do this something bad will happen to you. And if you do this you are a sinner and weak in the eyes of God. My strength was put to the test at the age of nine when my mother went

crazy kidnapped me and showed me what being homeless and on drugs looked like. She never showed me the drugs but she did partake. When my dad rescued me a year later, the people in his church rejoiced and welcomed me in with open arms. This church saved my dad after the divorce of my parents, and he saw saving me from my mother was an act of the church's faithfulness to God. God brought me back, not the police who came looking for the missing girl my mom kidnapped as well. With that said, I grew up as a skeptic of organized religions. In my teenage years, I had asked a lot of questions about God's intentions. I asked why God gave my mother mental illnesses and I was told to pray about it by the congregation

and sometimes God just gives people hard cards to see if they can handle spreading his word by my dad. My pastor told me I couldn't read Harry Potter because the spells they used were real. Yes, that was a real thing, and I missed out on a huge chunk of growing up in the 2000s because of it. I can't enjoy the series, and it makes me sad. I read the first four anyway until I got caught and was told to never read them again because it was a sin. Speaking of sin, do you all remember purity rings? Well, the purity culture is real too. If you want to prove your worth and commitment to God, then you must wear a purity ring and pledge not to have sex before marriage. I wore one until I lost my virginity pre-marriage. It felt so good to throw

that thing into the lake. Purity culture was a way of showing girls to be submissive, committed, and would die for their husband by being pure for their wedding night. We were fed lies about birth control, condoms, and sex in general. We were told that what we learned in health class was a lie and to only listen to what they had to say. They told us that it would be painful if it was before marriage because God knows what the young woman is about to do. If the child of any parent in the inner circle disobeyed God in any way, they must repent to the pastor and be prayed over by the congregation in order to be saved. The inner circle is a group of individuals in the following rank. Pastor, youth pastor, greeters, people who greet, mingle and introduce newcomers to the

church, youth leaders, pastor's close friends and Sunday school teachers. Everyone else are sheep. The ranks are unspoken and throughout my teenage years my parents were just on the cusp of being part of the inner circle. But since I was a rowdy teenager and sinned left and right, they were unable to be fully a part of it. I was fed lies that I was being a bad girl so that I would stop experiencing mental illnesses that I could not control. I used to self-harm because the pain felt good, but my parents told me I was just searching for attention.

My eating disorder was said to be a demon possessing my body. That's a story for another day. I want to warn you about the church because all four square churches are a part of this. They say they're non-denominational, but it's a cover for something more sinister. They brainwash their congregation into being perfect citizens or God will make their life miserable. If any of you believe that, it's not true. God loves those who love him, and he is a loving, forgiving God. If you sin, he will forgive.

He gets that we're human. He made us. If you believe in God, just remember that and I promise you'll be safe. For those of you who might be wondering, I am a very spiritual person. However, I take pieces from all religions and apply them to my life. I do not despise the evangelical church nor Christianity in general. I am simply writing this as a warning to stay away from these deceptive people because they don't even realize they are deceiving you. The part I feel is the scariest part of all. So this story happened to me and my friend, we'll call her Anna, about seven months ago. In the town we live in there's a popular bridge with train tracks underneath it where a lot of us will go smoke, drink or just hang out.

It was the summer, going into my senior year and Anna and I were bored one Saturday night as there isn't much to do where I live so we decided to just go hang out at the bridge. Now the way the bridge is set up, there are two ways to get in. The first way is you have to turn down a side street and park off to the side of the road on this small strip of gravel. Then you walk down the street a little way and then go behind the guardrails and down a steep slope of dirt and rocks to get to the tracks. You have to cross the train tracks and go to the side of where dirt and rocks to get to the tracks. You have to cross the train tracks and go to the side of where the bridge is to climb up the rocks. The second way to get in is through the other side. You just hop down off the street into a short trail that leads you down there. You don't have to cross the tracks or anything to get there. Anyways, Anna and I get

to the bridge and by now it's about 10.30 to 11pm so it's pretty dark out. We didn't really think much about it as we lived in a nice town and nothing really bad ever happened where we lived. So we hopped out of the car, turned on our flashlights from our phones and started to make our way down the slope, trying not to fall as we laughed and shouted a bit. We finally get down and climb up the rocks to get to where the couches and small fire pit were. I sat down against one of the pillars on one of the folding chairs while Anna sat on the couch. We were just talking, hitting our vape pens and nothing was out of place. After about 20 minutes or so I started to hear small noises like something or someone moving around in the woods behind or more like next to the tracks.

I then had the strongest feeling that we were being watched. I kept looking behind me trying to see if I could see anyone but it was no use. It was so dark that I couldn't see my own hand in front of me. I think that she started to get the same feeling that I had as we both just made eye contact and gave each other that I feel it too look. Anna then asked me what are you doing and tried to put my arm down. I told her to be quiet as I shone my flashlight in the direction I thought we were being watched from. She started to quietly panic and I told her to act calm. We tried to just tell ourselves that we were being paranoid. The flashlight didn't shine that far and we couldn't see anyone in the area that the light did cover. The noises started happening more frequently, which made us panic even more.

We started to discuss the situation. If there was someone there, where would they be hiding? How long had they been there? Were there more than one of them? Anna then got the stupid idea to shout, Hello, is anyone there? We're chill, you don't have to hide. We sat in silence for five minutes as nothing happened and the noises stopped. It was dead silent. Then all of a sudden, an empty plastic water bottle was thrown

in our direction. We could see where it landed only a few feet from us and we were scared absolutely out of our minds. Now we knew that someone had been there watching us. Anna said we needed to get out of there but we were both too scared to move. Afraid that if we did whoever was there would come out and attack us as we tried to climb down the rocks. We heard a twig snap and I nearly screamed. Anna decided that she was going to jump off the edge of the ledge we were sitting on. I grabbed her arm and said it's too high to jump off of, you can't even see all the way down to where the tracks are and made her stay with me. By now we had been there for at least 45 minutes to an hour. Had he just been there watching us the whole time? We calmed down and decided that when we

count to three, we were going to run across the rocks and book it across the tracks and back up the slope to the car. I counted. One. Two. Three. When I said it it we ran as fast as we could not looking back to see who was there. We made it back up the hill completely out of breath. We decided to walk over the bridge and see if we could hear anything. We stood on the bridge above the opposite side where we had been sitting before. We called down shouting, who's there? there you better leave now and a bunch of other things and a few obscenities that I won't repeat on here. We heard a scuffling and rocks moving directly under us. When we were running across earlier he must have tried to chase us and

when we made it to the top he just went to the other side of the tracks and climbed up those rocks. There was no way that he had been there the whole time as he had thrown a water bottle at us earlier and it would have been too far to throw it from the other side and it came from a completely different direction. We got really freaked out and started to leave and then heard a train coming. I grabbed my friend's arm and said, Wait, if we wait for the train, maybe we can see who is watching us. She agreed and we slowly and cautiously walked back down to

the slope as the train began to approach. The train lights were so bright and at first we couldn't see anyone. Then I looked over to the pillars and to my absolute horror I see someone wearing a white and purple beanie with the blankest eyes I had ever seen peek around one of the pillars. He looked strung out and like he was on something. He saw me immediately and ducked back behind the pillar. I screamed as me and my friend turned to sprint back up to our car before the train passed so he couldn't follow us. We booked it out of there and have been back at night ever since. I still get freaked out that he had been watching us the whole time we were down there.

And if he did manage to get us while we were running, what would he have done? I don't know and I certainly don't want to find out. Before I type this I'm going to have to give you a little bit of an idea to what the layout of my house is. I live in England. My bedroom is on the second floor right beside my parents bedroom. As you come out of my room the stairs to the landing and hallway are just in England. My bedroom is on the second floor right beside my parents' bedroom. As you come out of my room, the stairs to the landing and hallway are just in front. On the first floor you have four rooms, but the only ones that are important is the kitchen and the living room which are beside each other. The thing about our kitchen though is that at the end of our kitchen we have a door that leads into another few rooms,

which was probably meant to be a self-contained flat or apartment and then in here we have a door that leads to the back garden. The garden is basically a little fenced in wooded area and my window points towards the garden. As I'm typing this it happened about 15 minutes ago. I woke up at about 2.30am to my cat knocking something over in my room and climbing out of my window. I saw eyes. I definitely saw something. I left my curtains open and my window slightly open too. I was really annoyed since our cat is typically a house cat and isn't allowed out during the night. So I go to my window and try to call him back in but I can't see him anywhere. At this point I'm thinking he's probably jumped down to my patio just under my window is a bit over the roof and was quite high

up but I couldn't see my cat so it was the only option that he had jumped down to my patio. At this point I throw a jumper on and slippers and have my phone in hand with the flashlight turned on. I go into the kitchen, but as I get to the room that leads into the back garden, I close the door that goes to the kitchen. I walk to the back door, opened it, and point my flashlight around, but I couldn't see anything, so I left the door open and walk out a few steps to see if I could find the cat. Keep in mind to get to the door behind me you

would have to go right in my line of sight. When I couldn't see anything I decided the best course of action would be to wake my parents up and tell them what's going on. So I walked back inside the house shutting and locking the door behind me, then going to the kitchen and locking that door too. I walked out of the kitchen and into the living room where I was going to try and work out how to tell my parents that my cat decided to go out the window at 2am. But when I turned the light on, sitting on the sofa was my cat. I definitely saw something leave from my room, but if it wasn't my cat, what was it? This happened when I was a senior in high school. It was around 8.30am when I decided to walk to school. There were two ways I could walk, but I decided to take the shortcut with the dead end. I know this was stupid but I had walked there before millions of times and it was the broad daylight. As I was walking through the dead end I am halfway walking and I see a white car slowing down. I thought it was weird because there's literally nothing there so I assumed

they were lost. Then I see one guy get out of the car and walks behind me. I already had a weird feeling in my gut so I started to pick up the pace. That's when another guy gets out and walks on the opposite side of the street. I quickly panic and they start walking as fast as me. I notice the white car starting to get closer and closer. Both the guys in the car were saying something like maybe a plan. My grandma lives behind the dead end block and my only option was to run. I don't know why I didn't decide to call the cops. I guess I just decided to go with flight.

As soon as I started running both the men started running to catch up with me and I was unable to cross the street and that's when some woman drove up to me and asked if I needed some help or if she could drive me anywhere. She told me that those guys were following me and that it's not safe for me to be alone. In my head I thought that she could be part of the plan or something trying to lure me in. I got in her car anyway thinking I knew I couldn't outrun them and I didn't want them to know where my grandparents lived so I asked her to drive me to school. Long story short, they followed us for a bit and then decided to leave. I was so scared but so grateful that that woman decided to

save my life. Who knows what would happen. I wish I had gotten her number down or something so I could be able to take her out. She told me she sensed something was wrong when she saw me running frantically and said she had a niece in the same school as me and would want someone to do the same for her. She had told me never to walk the streets alone and showed me more compassion than my mother ever did. I am forever grateful to her. A year ago I moved into a commune house, a vonheim. All seemed quite nice on my floor, just two people were behaving quite strange. As time passed one of them, Jack, made unsensible statements. He already has a three year old child that lives in Hungary with his girlfriend. He's in Germany for three years.

He talks a lot about sexy girls and what he wants to do to them he walks around half naked a lot even when it's pretty cold and gave me strange hungry stares besides compliments you notice quickly that jack doesn't have respect for women the conversation that angers me till now is, you can only love one person. If a couple gets a child, the man only loves the woman and the woman only loves the child. That to give you a picture of his character. Then for one semester he studied in Uganda and the owner rented the room to a 40 year old woman from China named Lin. But Jack came back a month too early and then the strange behavior got worse. He broke into the empty room next to me to sleep there. He was passive aggressive a lot and pressured Lin to take in his stuff. He knocked at a door at inappropriate times just to say

goodnight or to get through his stuff slowly without taking anything out of his luggage. One night in the morning at 6am I needed to visit a friend in another city. I noticed the commotion in front of her room. Lynn walked in her evening robe nervously up and down the corridor. I invited her for some minutes into my room. She teared up while telling me how scared she is of Jack, maybe taking her stuff or hurting her. Lynn also was getting pressured because Jack said that he would be extremely disappointed by his good friend if she puts his stuff out. The truth is they don't actually know each other.

They met at a three day prayer and barely talked. So I said she shouldn't fear anything and I would support her. So she wrote in on our floor's whatsapp group that she wants the stuff out. After Jack was trying his don't make me sad number, I jumped in writing that she is doing the right thing. Then Jack's tone changed immediately. He threatened telling me to shut my mouth and apparently knocked on my door while I was at a friend's place. My boyfriend opened the door. When I came home he was in shock, telling me how scary Jack was, ranting about how he came and said that he could make me disappear. My boyfriend said that he needs to tell me a story that had me locking my door properly every night now.

Apparently Jack bragged about taking me to a place called Gala. Jack and his friends were used to going out. One of them would try to seduce a girl, he would bring her home, bandage her eyes and another person would have their way with her without her knowing it. For two weeks now not only Jack would behave strangely, even Lynn started being different. She only saw sides. Whoever didn't agree was an enemy and she developed a paranoia. Lynn eventually moved out. Since then, she stalked one other girl who stays on the floor, who was a former friend of hers. Lynn even stood in front of her window watching this former friend. She didn't want to do anything else out of fear. Jack still lives here. He's still passive aggressive and tries to get me kicked out of the building and insults me in the group me.

I'm just scared of what he's capable of. Both Lynn and Jack gave me the creeps and I don't know if I have the money to leave. So I have short-term memory loss issues which can be annoying to say the least. Admittedly there's been times where it bordered on dangerous. Just now I was just driving through the back road that runs through the woods dividing my best friend's house and mine. It's one I've driven about a million times as we've been friends for years. Most nights I find the drive rather relaxing. The occasional deer, moose or even bear might startle me along the way but that's something I've grown used to.

After all, these woods are practically in my backyard. I was maybe a mile into my drive home when suddenly in what felt like a blink of an eye, I was flooded with absolute dread. I don't remember why. It was as if though I had woken up from a nightmare, and even though the memory was gone in an instant, something about it still lingered, and the feeling of sickening panic had yet to fade away. I'm home now, and even still I feel creeped out. Clearly my body remembers something I don't. I don't scare easily. I'm a witch and an avid horror fanatic. At any given time, you can find me delving into something that gives the average person the creeps.

Scary is kind of my thing. At least, scary is usually my thing. Right now, I'd do anything to get this paranoia to subside. I've locked my doors and windows and gone all out in terms of paranormal protection, but it's hard to know how to protect yourself when you can't remember what you're so scared of. This happened in my early teens when I was 13 in 2009. And at the time I was really depressed due to issues with my father. I would constantly listen to heavy metal and death metal and at one point wore slipknot shirts with pentagrams on them. I was a full-on edgy teen. My room would be decorated with my art and admittedly I had a large painting of a demon that I personally painted and now all this setup will lead to my point. Fast forward a year into my depression,

and my mother is trying to get me through my emotional illness, telling me to dress in brighter clothing, and to listen to different music, and get rid of my very dark decorations. By dark, I mean demonic decor and pentagram t-shirts. I was a skeptic at the time, still am, but used to be stubborn and even more reluctant to believe. She would yell at me saying, if you keep being like this, you'll attract

negative energies to our house, or even worse. I usually would dismiss this as my mother not wanting me to be depressed and a metalhead teen but that soon would change. About two months later the first encounter happened. I was sitting in the living room of the apartment we lived in. Now these apartments had sliding doors right in the living rooms which led to small back porches. My computer was situated next to the sliding door. So 14 year old me was sitting by the door and the couch was just to the left of me as my mother watched television. The sliding door was propped open because my brothers had gone out. The day was a regular dry and windless day in Arizona when

all of a sudden the window blinds swung inwards wildly as if a big gust of wind had blown them. I got up and looked and closed the sliding door, thinking nothing of it, even though there was no wind, but my mother had noticed and said, Mizuna, did you see that? That was not the wind. I was sitting right next to the door and felt no wind. She dismissed it soon after, but she was highly suspicious. But this isn't the only thing. Fast forward a week later and me and my family are in the dining room area situated next to the living room in the kitchen as it was a small apartment. Now for context, the kitchen is a small

hallway space consisting of the stove, fridge, sink, and a small pantry with a sliding door. Now we were eating dinner when all of a sudden the pantry doors fall down and hits the kitchen countertop. Now me not wanting to give my mother the satisfaction of agreeing that this might be supernatural, chalked it up as coincidence thinking the just broke, and the wheel on it broke off the track. But when I went to set the door back up, I found the door intact. The wheel was just fine, so in order for it to fall, someone would have had to pull the small wheel down to unhinge it from the track. This had me slightly scared, but I said nothing. Fast forward to the night of the same day. We were already in bed when I heard my mother scream.

I was so startled that I ran into her room and asked what was wrong and she explained that she had covered herself in her blanket to cover up from the cold when she felt the sheets tighten around her legs and she felt as if though a pair of hands were grabbing her. I guess at this point anyone would have started to believe something was up but not me. I was still skeptical and chalked it up to her tossing and turning in her sleep making the sheets tighten. I quickly went back to bed ignoring my mother's pleas to toss my demon memorabilia and pentagram shirts. Fast forward three days.

I had been in my room all day sick from school and had been bragging to my mother that nothing had occurred so far and how she was overreacting when the television turned itself on. To our dismay, on full blast, and I quickly turned it off, quite startled by this, but said nothing as my mother yelled, see Mizuna? It's that stuff in your depression. It's attracting bad entities to our home. Get rid of your evil stuff. I blew her off, still refusing to believe as I went back into my room and went to bed. Secretly, I was scared out of my mind. Fast forward one day.

I had been having a good day as far as living with depression went. I had eaten two whole pizzas and had the feeling I needed to take a massive dump, so I went to the bathroom. Now my bathroom is set up like this. You enter and next to the door is the light switch. Then the sink is there which is about two and a half feet long so it's quite a reach for the light switch. I was sitting on the toilet and doing some thinking when the lights turned off and at first I thought the lights had gone out until I heard a deep and gravelly voice chuckle and say, you're mine. This was the last straw. I quickly wiped myself and ran out of the bathroom. I told my mother what happened and a week later I threw out all of my pentagrams and Ouija board

as well as my four footfoot demon painting I made. We threw it all out and had a cleansing of our home. Thankfully, activity subsided about a month later. It was the summer of 2010. I was 20 years old. I was about to start a new job at a sporting goods store. I really wanted a haircut and some new clothes to start the job, so I shot my uncle a call to share the news with him

and ask if I could borrow 50 bucks to get that stuff done. He was excited for me and had no issues with lending me 50 so I could look nice on my first day. All of a sudden, mid-conversation, the call got a little bit static-y. From there it transitioned into, imagine an abandoned warehouse with chains hanging from the ceiling and slightly clanking into each other. Sorry, but I've never been quite sure how else to explain the noise anyways that lasted for about 15 to 20 seconds and then the call dropped I called my uncle back and asked what that was he was confused by my question because apparently the call dropped on his end about two minutes

prior and there was nothing weird it just went from us talking to a dropped call. So I wrote it off as nothing, proceeded with our conversation and eventually hung up. About two months after this my mom called me one day to check up on me. I didn't live with her, I lived with my grandmother. It was just a casual convo of us catching up. All of a sudden I could no longer hear my mother. I transitioned back into the same noise that I described above with my uncle. Once again, this lasted about 15 to 20 seconds, then the call dropped. I called my mom back, asked if she heard anything.

She said no and told me it was just silence on her end. Once again, I shrugged it off as bad service. At the time of these calls, I had a BlackBerry Curve with service provided by T-Mobile on my mother's plan. After this, it hadn't happened again for about a year, so I had forgotten about it. Now we're going to fast forward to about a year. I no longer have a BlackBerry Curve or T-Mobile service. I now have HTC Vivid and AT&T on my grandmother's plan. One night I'm having a few people over for some drinks when I get a call from my girlfriend at the time.

I step to the porch to light a cigarette and catch up with her for a second when this noise once again begins transitioning into the phone call. I'm slightly confused as I haven't had this happen in over a year. I now have a new phone with a new number and new service provider. Only this time I can almost swear I hear muffled voices in the background. So I decide to open the door to my house really quick and tell my friends to be quiet. I'm going to put my phone on speaker and see if they hear anything. I put the phone on speaker and the call instantly drops. They looked at me confused.

I was a little annoyed but it was quickly forgotten as drinks were in the mix. I call my girlfriend back, ask if she heard anything. She of course says no and that the call just dropped on her end. This happened maybe one or two more times over the next year but nothing crazy. Fast forward another year. I now have my own phone plan. I'm back on T-Mobile. I have a Samsung Galaxy S3.

My grandmother is in the hospital with lung cancer. One day I leave the hospital after visiting her and decided to stop by my great uncle Jack's house afterwards to give him an update. As I'm pulling into his driveway I receive a call from my cousin, just moved in with him, asking for an update and when I'll be home. Out of nowhere, this noise once again transitions into the phone call. I'm confused now. Different phone numbers, three phones later, different services, gaps in time. But this time I decide to really listen, and I catch something different. I catch a voice. Not just any voice. A deep, raspy, angry voice. And the first thing that I hear, what I believe I heard anyway, was I hate you. Whatever it was said it very slow and paused a bit after each word, probably why it seemed so clear. I panicked and hung up the phone instantly. I call my cousin back and ask if he heard anything.

He just said, ah man, the call just dropped, what are you talking about? He's pretty close in age to me so I was really hoping I wasn't alone on this one and we could relate. Now I've had a fair share of stuff happen throughout my life but never anything where it was angry or I felt threatened so this one struck a bit different. Now I believe in ghosts very much so but I should also state that I will always look at the logical side of something and try to figure out an explanation before I just jump straight to the conclusion that it had been a ghost. So once again I'm left answerless after this phone call and chalk it up to the possibility that maybe I was just hearing stuff. A few days go by and my friend Joe and I leave the hospital

together after visiting my grandma and head towards my great uncle Jax to give him his daily update. As I pull in the driveway I receive a phone call from my mom asking how my grandmother is, her mother. I start to update her and maybe 30 seconds into the call it happens again. But this time, whatever it is gets straight to the point. Same voice as the prior time, but this time more assertive, a bit louder, and a bit faster. The first thing I hear is F you, then I hear, it's really dark here, and I'm coming for you so I can bring you back. So I quickly put my phone on speaker to see if my friend can hear it or if the call is going to just drop like the previous time I tried a few years prior.

When it goes on speaker and clear as can be you hear, I'm coming for you Brett. Instant chills. I hadn't stated above but my name is Brett. The phone call ended after that. I looked straight into my friend's eyes. I asked, Joe, did you hear that? If so, what did you hear? He responded that he did hear it and he heard it very clearly.

He said, it said I'm coming for you, Brett. So we sat there for a minute. We discussed it. He said he wasn't sure what was creepier, the voice and what it said, or the actual background noise itself. He expressed that he was sorry that he hadn't heard or believed me prior. I had explained it to him in the past, but he just chalked it up to static. But man did it feel good to know I finally had someone else to hear it and know I wasn't crazy.

So after sitting there for a moment I called my mom back and had to of course ask if she heard anything. She said no as always, just that the call had dropped and that was that. Some of those phone calls continued for a bit in the years to come but not as frequent and I always just hung up once I heard the strange noise start to transition into the call. Finally it stopped in about 2015. Can't really say I was disappointed either to be honest. It's now 2019. I've had sprints since August. I have an iPhone XS and another new phone. It's been so long that I finally forgot about it until January and that's when it happened again. I have no answers. I've kept this story silent for a long time. In the last year, activity has steadily started to increase in my life and I can't help but to have a sense of deja vu. I started writing in my journal again and keep trying to make sense of things.

When I was 12, my family and I moved into a new house. This house was built specifically for us on 22 acres of land and woods in southern Indiana. It was a gorgeous house. Three bedroom, full basement, wraparound porch, and a catwalk that attached the two upstairs rooms and overlooked the living room. My father even had a pond dug out for the front yard and our backyard was nothing but miles and miles of woods. I was so optimistic about moving because how could a brand new house be haunted? I encountered very bad entities that no way can compare to my earlier encounters. Reliving some of these encounters are truly unsettling but I think it is important. I should have followed my gut the first week we moved.

I had a friend over and she was helping me unpack and get settled. We stayed up all night putting my clothes away and hanging pictures on the walls. I didn't have curtains up on the windows yet and I can remember avoiding looking back into the windows when it got dark because the woods had a very ominous feeling about them. Eventually my friend and I were satisfied with our unpacking progress and fell asleep. I thought I was dreaming when we woke up the next morning. A majority of my clothes that we had hung up were on the floor. Boxes that were still full when we fell asleep were dumped over and the floor was covered with all of my belongings and trash. Parents didn't believe me or my friend and my friend never came

back to the house after that. In that moment I wasn't scared. I distinctly remember being so angry. This was my first week in my new house and it was supposed to be a new beginning. I couldn't understand how or why this was happening again. The level of activity in this house was beyond anything I could imagine. Throughout my early teenage years I would do everything I could not to be home. I especially never wanted to be home alone. Lights would turn off and on, doors would open and the televisions would turn off and on.

The water faucets would start running, items would move to only reappear, glasses would fall off counters and break, whispers, shadows. Eventually my family began questioning such experiences but they would just brush it off. There were several things that were present in this house. The shadow figures. There were so many shadow figures. The catwalk, stairs and the basement were the most common places I would see them. However, I was not the only person.

The catwalk between the two rooms was basically a hallway without walls. It connected the rooms but looked down over the living room. The figures would just walk from my room to the other room back and forth. They were nearly a full apparition but looked like a shadow. It was hard to explain. One night I had a friend over and we were home alone watching movies. I ran to the kitchen to get a drink and I could hear her screaming from the living room. I ran back in and she was trembling in fear because she saw someone walk from the guest

room into my room. I ran back in and she was trembling in fear because she saw someone walk from the guest room into my room. I ran back in and she was trembling in fear because she saw someone walk from the guest room into my room. I had already seen this thing many times throughout the years do the same thing. I tried to explain what happens to my friend and even tried to get her to go upstairs with me to show her no one was really there. Needless to say she ended up calling her parents and going home. On several occasions, I would be in my room watching TV with the door open and see the figure standing in the doorway of the guest bedroom. I would just shut and lock my door.

This was my normal, but that doesn't mean it was any less terrifying. The shadow figures in the basement were worse. Our basement didn't have a door, it was just a staircase that went into the basement from the living room. Everything that we had in storage at the old guest house was down there. However, we also had a lot of World War I and II artifacts and memorabilia. My grandfather was a collector his entire life and when he passed, our basement was the only space large enough to keep his life's work. We had medals, statues, guns, uniforms, flags, just to name a few. I 100% believe that multiple

spirits were attached to these items because not only would you see shadow figures in the basement and creeping up the basement stairs, but you could hear whispers and things moving. It was truly a scene from a horror movie. Growing up, I didn't know land could be haunted. I laugh because looking back, I was living a real-life poltergeist movie. Living in the country, I played outside a lot. I often felt suffocated in the house and would just want to be

able to breathe. However, I was never alone. I would often see a man standing by our pond. His face was never clear but he would move around the pond. Sometimes he would be under our weeping willow tree or sometimes he would be looking down at the house. He never moved but instead just stood there. He didn't really scare me but I never attempted to approach him. There was also something that would walk the porch. On many occasions I would be sitting on the porch reading or talking with a friend and you could hear someone walking. It was so clear that you would fully expect to see someone walk around the corner but instead you would see the wood move with each footstep.

You would see it get closer and closer by the movement of the wood and the sound and then just stop. All of my friends and my mother witnessed this several times. It would always stop several feet in front of someone and you could hear it walking around the porch from inside the house too. There were also the figures in the woods. I could look out a window and at any given point and see what I would consider to be a person standing in the woods peeking around a tree or bush. Their faces were never clear and I couldn't ever determine whether they were men or women. Interestingly enough, I was playing in the woods one day and I stumbled across an old well. It was fairly deep but you could tell it

was extremely old because what was left was barely visible. I immediately told my parents about it and showed them where it was. I guess this piqued their interest and they began researching the land more. They were able to confirm that at one time a small community occupied the land but nothing was left except for the well. The activity never stopped or even slowed down. Even when I wasn't home I felt like I was being watched and I still do. It impacted my family's emotional and mental states because the house was literally draining all of our energy and replacing it with negative energy. I wasn't eating, I wasn't sleeping, everything in my life was strained because of home. I do think the house wore on my parents' relationship too and in some crazy way, I partially blamed their split on the house.

In my later high school years, I started going to haunted locations with friends. For them, it was just for fun and they didn't believe my stories or the ghost stories around town. They wanted proof and I thought I could help. At this point in my life I didn't think anything could be scarier than what I lived with at home. I really began to realize how sensitive I actually was. I also learned that spirits can physically hurt you and can attach themselves to you and follow you home to your already very haunted house. So to start off, I need to explain the kind of person I am.

I have always been a really non-reactive kind of guy. I don't really ever get shocked or startled. My friends usually comment on how cool it is and how amazing I am under pressure and how I can remain calm in emergencies. As a side note, I've also frustrated a few people by not giving them the reactions they want or expect. My best friend once refused to talk to me for a few weeks after I didn't seem to care that he was having his first child. We talked it out. I told him that I was, of course, happy for him.

It just isn't my nature to get excited about stuff, good or bad. He knows me and understood. He was just disappointed. I don't say all this to brag about how cool I am and stuff. I just wanted to illustrate how I am for the context of what just happened. So my grandma has lived in the same house for my entire life of 28 years, until two months ago when she moved out to a new house out in the country. The new house is really nice and I'm happy for her. Apparently, she didn't like living there anymore because it's a big old house

with lots of painful memories. My dirtbag grandpa cheated on them and then left her a few years ago, and it's a pain to try and keep it maintained. And of course, there's a ghost. For as long as I can remember, my grandma has complained about a ghost that messes with her all the time. The usual stuff, strange noises in the attic, basement and in the walls, voices, stuff going missing and showing up in weird places, doors opening and closing, footsteps etc. She moved pretty suddenly, taking only what she needed and leaving all of her accumulated stuff from being in her 80s behind, asking if my family could help her slowly move the rest out to where she is now and move some stuff she didn't want anymore into storage. Me being in college and between jobs with a bunch of free time, I am doing the bulk of it.

A few weeks ago I was in the house doing this when I started hearing stuff. At first I was in the dining room packing some old people china, the fancy kind that has never been used, when I hear the metal screen door to the garage open and slam closed. Thinking it was my mom coming by to give me some lunch. Hey, is that you mom? No answer. I walk to the other side of the house and check the garage. No one there. No cars in the driveway.

House is empty. I shrug, probably the wind. Next I'm hauling the taped up boxes of newspaper wrapped china to my car. While in the garage I hear a loud metal bang in the house. I finish putting the boxes in and go inside to see two of the floor level cabinets in the kitchen open and all the metal pots and pans strewn into the floor. Since I need to pack them up anyway, I just pack them all up and carry them out to the car. I'm still in the kitchen and it's nearly an hour later when I hear something in the basement.

It sounds like someone running up and down the basement stairs very loudly. The basement door is attached to the kitchen so I turn around and open the door, flipping the light switch at the top of the stairs. The sound stopped when I opened the door and I didn't see anything. Again, stuff like this doesn't really creep me out, so I just move down the stairs to see if I can see anything. Nothing down there but bookshelves filled with cookbooks and boxes of old Christmas decorations and junk. As I turn around to go back upstairs, I hear and see a mop in the maintenance closet kind of jump out of the bucket it's in and out of the room, like someone threw it. This was odd for two reasons. One, obviously it looked like a mop hopped out of the bucket onto the floor by itself and two, the maintenance door was

closed when I came in and I didn't open it. I know it was closed because if the door to the closet is open then it blocks the staircase and I didn't have to go around it to get in. So like the character from a horror movie I walk over and into the closet to investigate. More confused than scared. Inside, I pull the chain to turn on the hanging light bulb to turn on the light. After three seconds or so, I hear the light bulb pop as the lights go out and the door behind me slams closed hard. I turn around and calmly try to open the door but the handle won't turn. It's like someone is holding the knob from the other side.

Keep in mind this door doesn't lock, it's just a knob without a lock. I step away and after about 5 more seconds I say, Okay, what now? In a gentle nonchalant tone. I wait about a minute more in the pitch black room before trying the handle again and it opens with no problem. I step out, go back up the stairs and go back to packing. And that's it. It's been a few weeks and nothing has happened since then. I've been over there pretty much every day for at least an hour. I think the ghost may have rage quit because, unlike my grandma,

I didn't seem to react or care about the stuff it was doing. I'm writing this in hopes of being able to share my experiences without judgment. I know not everyone will believe me and I am prepared for that, but I also know there are many who are remaining silent and who can relate, so I will begin with my first journal entries. I know that we live in a world full of skeptics who are ready to write me off as crazy. I have 32 years of unexplained experiences, entities, feelings and judgment all of which I have documented in multiple journals.

Early in my journey I wanted to prove skeptics wrong, but now I just want them to be open to the idea that this is not a black and white world. There is so much gray and although sometimes it is terrifying, it can change someone's entire perspective. I want to belong to a group of like-minded individuals who see and live in the grayness of the world. There was a point in my life that I was very vocal about the things that I have experienced. I didn't fear people thinking I was crazy and I was very vocal about the things that I have experienced. I didn't fear people thinking I was crazy and I was adamant about changing a skeptic's mind. In my reality, I didn't understand how or why a person could be skeptic. My first memories as a child involved an

imaginary friend. It was my form of normal. Now looking back, I know the things I experienced were not normal, that I had a so-called sixth sense and was extremely sensitive to things other people were not. I have experienced things that others only experience while watching fictional horror movies. I literally lived in a horror movie. As I mentioned, at a very early age I would see different entities around my house. My parents blamed it on an act of imagination, but it was real. At the time we lived in a very old house with an additional guest house attached. We just used the guest house as storage and we never had occupants. My father was an auctioneer and was constantly bringing home old antiques. One day, my father brought home a green recliner to go in my room for my mother to read

to me at night. However, an older gentleman with a black beard and hat occupied the chair every night after my mother would leave. He would just sit there, appearing more as a silhouette or shadow. He never spoke, and he never moved. He just sat there and watched me. I strongly believed fear is not something someone is born with, but instead comes from experiences. This figure terrified me because even as a child, I knew he was not supposed to be there and I couldn't understand why my parents couldn't see him. I wish he was the only entity in my house but he wasn't. There was a long hallway that separated my room from the guest bedroom and the stairs. I would always see a shadow figure walking this hallway and going into the guest room.

It wasn't the man in the chair. This thing was much scarier. Its energy was strong and extremely negative. The feeling that I spoke about earlier originated in this hallway. Whether it was visible or not, I always knew it was around. I would run from the stairs to my room every single day. The entity then began to move around the house. I think one of the more terrifying things that happened was when I was around 10. I was getting ready in front of a mirror hanging on the bathroom door. There was a belt on the ground next to me partially under the door. I remember vividly looking in the mirror and seeing the belt slowly slide farther under the

door. Thinking I was being pranked, I opened the bathroom door and no one was there. However, the belt was now on the bathroom floor. Not only was the house leaving me in a constant state of fear and anxiety, but the guest house was a place I physically could not go into because of the dreadful feeling it gave. The few times I did go into the guest house, I would always feel like I was going to get sick and would immediately leave. The guest house was a small house with a large attic. There was a big window in the attic that looked over the entire property. One afternoon I was jumping on the trampoline with my friends.

I believe this is the epiphany moment in my life when I realized I was not the only person experiencing these things. My friend looked up at the window with a terrified look on his face. There was a woman dressed in white looking down at us. She had long blonde hair and had a very blank expression on her face. We watched her for a few minutes and then she disappeared. The house was empty and the stairs to the attic had not been used in years. This lady didn't simply walk away from the window, she completely vanished. I had three friends that day that witnessed this entity disappearing into thin air. This was a validation to me that I was not crazy and that

there are things in this world that cannot be explained. I lived in that house until I was 12 years old. The level of activity increased throughout the years to the point I began documenting them in a journal I have specific details of each and far too many just to write here When I moved to our new house, built specifically for my family I thought things would stop and I could be a normal kid But I was wrong So, so wrong. To give a little backstory, we moved into a new house when I was four. Less than a year after moving in and only four days after his 31st birthday,

my dad became violently ill and died suddenly. I'm 33 now and over the years it's become a lot easier for me to talk about. So here goes. Very shortly after my father passed our family was at my grandma's, my mom's mom, for mourning and comfort. I was in the back playroom with my little brother and my two cousins, who one is a couple of years older than me. Out of nowhere and in my head, I heard a disconnected old rotary phone that was laying around in an open box ring. So I answered it because I knew it was for me, and it was my dad. He explained everything would be okay and said other comforting things to me. I hung up the phone feeling happy and peaceful. My older cousin witnessed this and swears to this day he

heard someone on the other end. Not too long after, I don't remember exact days, I was with my aunt, my dad's sister, and because I was so young, she had bought a book to read with me to help explain death and heaven. After she read it, she was trying to re-explain it all to me and I just looked at her and said, I know already. She said something along the lines of, oh really? I told her, yes, because daddy told me already. And that was that. Also, like right after my dad had passed, my mom woke up one morning and walked into the kitchen and found all the upper and lower cabinets wide open. It startled her. She also had an incident where she was searching everywhere for an important document, something having to do with her having to take care of all the bills now.

She went through everything she could think of, then found said document sitting right on top document, something having to do with her having to take care of all the bills now. She went through everything she could think of, then found said document sitting right on top of a mail stack that she had been going through multiple times already. Not mine, but she knows this was my dad. After this, I don't believe anything else pertained to my dad. I just got feelings about things and it never felt like my dad. All of this happened between 1991 and 2000. Some at my house, some at others' houses. I did my best to put in a sort of general chronological order. At my house, it started with me hearing knocking on the ceiling above my head when laying in bed at night. No matter what position the bed was in head when laying in bed at night. No matter what position the bed was in, it was always over my face. If the bed moved, the knock moved. Not like

someone knocking to come in, just like a knock, knock, knock, usually in threes. Sometimes just one set of three, sometimes more. Just randomly over the years. Always sounded unnatural. Definitely was not a rodent sound or duct work or anything. Very familiar with those sounds now as an adult living in an old 1920s home. Back at my grandma's, which had been where my mom had some of her experiences as a kid, I was around seven to 8 and was laying down to go to sleep in the back bedroom with my little brother who was between 4 and 5. This bedroom was smaller but had a king bed and a dresser on the wall at the foot of the bed and a small walk space, 2 feet wide maybe, on either side of the bed. The floor is like an old style vinyl tile that

stays kind of gritty at times from the kids playing outside in the sand driveway. This house is in a one stop sign town in the middle of nowhere on 350 acres, super rural. I hear heavy, dragging, bare feet walk the length of the bed by the wall I have to my back, and then it stops. I gather the courage to turn and look and see nothing but my brother has pushed himself up from his stomach and is staring at the wall where I hear the noise. He looks at me wide-eyed and asked him if he heard that too. He says yes. Confirmation. I tell him it's okay. Just lay down and go back to sleep. So we did eventually, that was the only time I ever heard anything there, but I know others heard stuff at that house.

These are just the ones I remember, but I think there were a few more. When she was little, my mom was in her room one night trying to sleep when she heard some mumbling like people talking in the living room. She thought it was weird that her parents had visitors so late and kept trying to hear what they were talking about, but she couldn't make out what they were saying, just that it sounded like men talking. She finally heard, here it comes, and at that exact moment a real bad thunderstorm blew in, like it was still and quiet up until she heard those words. Next morning at the breakfast table her younger brother asked my grandparents who had stopped by and they said no one, they were asleep. He had heard the same thing my mom heard.

My grandma decided that total strangers just let themselves into the house while everyone was sleeping to get out of the storm and just kindly left when it was over. My grandma is a sweet lady. People don't do that here. That's how you get shot. My older brother would tell my mom that there was a ghost when he was two to three years old. He always told her it was behind the TV that sat at an angle in the living room corner, big old floor TV, and that he was friendly but his name wasn't Casper. My younger cousin, when he was maybe 14 to 15, was at the house alone, heard a car pull up and door shut. He was in the living room which is where you enter the house so when no one came in he went outside and there was no car there.

Remember we are in the middle of the country, no neighbors, no street traffic nada, just the cows and the chickens. I spent the night at a friend's house in 5th grade for her birthday, me and another girl. B day friend was the step daughter of a cop and was taught how to handle a gun and also had a small dog, which will come into play later. Next day, for XYZ reason, we were left alone to hang out for a while. She was an only child, so both upstairs bedrooms were hers. Stairs start at the front door, you go up, turn right to the landing, then you have a bedroom on the left, and right side with a flat wall in between that has a tiny attic door access. We just came out of right side room, when she slept in,

look for something in the left room, play junk room that had a play kitchen with metal pots and pans in it, and had closed that door almost all the way since that's how I found it, slightly ajar. The object we were looking for was stored in the attic so a friend opened the little door and found what we were looking for. A friend was crouched in the attic, myself and other friend had backs towards the room we just came out of, heard the little dishes all crash down off the play kitchen. We all look around at the room startled and realize the door is now fully closed. We were two feet away and never heard it close. We run downstairs to her parents' bedroom at the bottom of the stairs and lock the door.

Birthday friend finds stepdad's gun and is prepared to hold things down. I hide panicking. Other girl is just standing there. We hear footsteps come down the wood stairs, hear her dog barking then yelp in pain. I am petrified that I am about to be the next unsolved mysteries case. Birthday friend has gun cocked and balls of steel. Opens door and no one. We search the rest of the house. Empty. Calls the stepdad to come home. No signs of entry, nothing out of place, except the dishes that fell on the floor. Dishes can fall on their own, but not closed doors, walk down stairs, and or kick dogs. That was the last time I spent the night at her house.

Back at my house, my stepdad replaced the flooring in the entry and hallway one year. It was old carpet so he changed it to ceramic tile to make it easier to clean. After this, I occasionally thought I heard footsteps, bare feet walking down the short hallway. The most prominent time that I couldn't blame on someone else or rationalize was one day when I was home alone, 12-ish, after school, sitting in living room watching BET and MTV music videos and thought I heard something. So I turned the volume all the way down and heard the footsteps walking very clearly. I just stared at the hallway entrance waiting for someone to come around the corner but they never did. Called my big bro to come home

from work so I wouldn't be alone. He couldn't leave so I sucked it up and turned the volume on TV full blast and pretended it didn't happen. Older brother's girlfriend G was often home alone on the computer in my mom's room opposite end of the hallway than the living room, waiting for my brother to get off of work and had the exact same experience. I heard them randomly over the years, but that was the most clear time for me. My brother's bedroom, as they shared a room, the door would randomly shut and lock, but could be picked with a bobby pin or paper clip because it was just a push button lock. I was stoked when I debunked that as paranormal one year. There was a supply vent that would pull the door shut closed when the air kicked on, and the lock would be pushed in by the strike plate for the closet door inside their bedroom when the door was pushed open too hard.

Awesome. One less creepy occurrence for me to freak out over. Until it happened one time when I was with G across the hall in my mom's room on the computer. We were alone. We heard a noise in the room, looked and realized the door had been shut. We thought it was a robber because of the noise, so we armed ourselves with my softball bats. Went to use a bobby pin to pop the lock. As soon as I popped the lock and had my hand softly grasping the knob to turn it, the knob turned by itself and the door opened just far enough the latch wouldn't catch and you could push the door open. I threw my hand back and stared at Gabby like, did you just see that? She did. The room was empty,

but out of panic, we beat the life out of some stuffed animals my little brother had covered up on the bottom bunk that looked coincidentally like a poorly hidden robber. Rest in peace, Teddy. Came home one day after school, got off the bus, pulled out my house key, walked to the front door, opened it, took one step inside and heard my mom's bedroom door slam shut, hard. My thoughts, all in a couple of seconds, hadn't moved. Oh, my brother is home. Turn head and see his car not there. Okay, G is here Yelled G's name, no response Hmm, weird So I sit still and listen Silence Move inside just enough to peer down a short hallway

The footstep one And see my mom's bedroom door is wide open I nope on out of there Leave my front door open Close the storm door and peer around the sides of the house and backyard to check the windows. All are closed, no robbers. So I sit myself outside on the curb and wait for an adult to get home. Maybe 15 minutes later big bro pulls up and asks why I'm outside.

I explain what happened. He searches the house. Empty. Okay, back to normal life. Police were never called in any of the intruder situations because I think in the back of my mind, I knew what it was from the get-go. Not too long after this last incident, we moved into a new built home in the country and I had not had any strange things happen there, but not the end just yet. I was going into high school that year. One evening when I was around 16, my mother got a call that my Mimi, dad's mom, had been in a wreck and she broke down in tears. I was standing there

when she got the call and I just had this feeling that everything was fine. No panic, no worry, no sadness, just calm. I told her it was going to be okay and meant it. My Mimi and my aunt went above and beyond to make sure we stayed a part of their family after my dad died. We were close. It was strange not to be upset. Everything turned out to be okay. She sustained injuries but was recovering. Fast forward a year to my senior year. Out of seemingly nowhere Mimi suffers major complications from the original car wreck injury and is hospitalized. My mom asked me if she needs to worry and I don't know how but I knew. Yes, we need to worry and we need to go see her ASAP as she lived about 3 hours away. She died shortly after on March 6, 2004.

I found out I was pregnant that summer. Mimi wouldn't be there to celebrate her only son's only daughter having a baby. I was pretty devastated. So my pregnancy goes pretty normal. I'm about 2 weeks away from my due date when I unexpectedly go into labor around 2.30am, rush to the hospital, have to have an emergency c-section and my baby gets put in NICU with a slim chance of survival. He was born March 6, 2005, exactly one year to the date and I would later find out to the time that my dad's mother passed

away. My son was released from NICU less than two weeks later, healthy and is now 14. I was always susceptible to seeing paranormal things as a child. My mom had a miscarriage before I was born and my imaginary friend turned out to be my sister, Alex. But that's a whole other story. I moved into a new house when I was about three years old with my mom and her new boyfriend. He was very narcissistic and emotionally abusive which would explain the hat man's presence. I would wake up screaming in the middle of the night and started having extremely violent nightmares at around this time about things that a child shouldn't be able to comprehend,

mostly death or torture related. The description of the hat man fits the entity I was seeing to a T. A shadowy figure with a trench coat who thrives off of fear and latches onto vulnerable people who exude negative energy and are emotionally drained. But the thing is, I saw him. Not a shadowy figure. I saw his long beige trench coat and his beige fedora or bowler hat and his long nose. I remember literally seeing him sitting on our furniture or walking around the house in broad daylight. My mom had always kept telling me it was just my imagination and nothing was going to hurt me. I tried to keep telling myself this from the time that I was three to eight years old, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was there. Some nights, I would pee the bed because I didn't want to get up and have to face him. I remember being restless

and almost suffocating under my blankets, trying to hide myself from him, and I remember hearing my heart beating because I was so scared that it was beating practically out of my chest. During this time I would constantly see faces all over the place, in my ceiling, on the walls, in the carpets, truly everywhere. Not just a smiley face or frowny face but actually defined facial features. I felt so trapped. My mom kept telling me once again that it was just my imagination but I knew that it wasn't. Cut to a few years later. I'm going to a therapist who does both spiritual healing and actual psychology. I told her about this man with a hat that kind of looked like a mysterious detective, and she said that hypnosis would help me get in contact with the spirits I saw as a child to get closure and send them to the light.

I closed my eyes, and I was in my childhood home again, opening all the doors. I opened my front door, and it was dark. The whole house was dark. I saw my little sister, and she said thank you for playing with me. I'll always guide you. That gave me a sense of relief. I walked around for a little bit and opened another door. The hat man was just standing there but I couldn't see much and he wasn't very expressive. I asked what he wanted in my house but no luck. He just stood there,

hat covering his face with no response. I started getting nervous at this point, so we stopped. A year after that session, I went to a medium because my childhood best friend passed away. I had already had a dream about her telling me that she was okay and happy, but I just wanted to hear from her one last time. The session itself lasted about ten minutes, but I spent the next two hours with the medium telling her about this man. She said he sounds like a malevolent spirit, and I told her about how he would watch and torment me as a child. I identify as an atheist but she gave me her Saint Michael the Archangel statue right off of her desk and told me I needed to take it and ask him for protection. After all of this time my mom finally admitted to me that she had also seen him too and that she would pray every

night that my soul would be protected and surrounded by light. I got baptized when I was 8 years old, and all of a sudden I didn't see him or any of the spirits, including my sister, anymore. I still really don't believe in religion whatsoever. I do, however, believe in paranormal happenings, and I believe that having faith in anything that's pure does protect you. I have countless stories similar to this, and I tried for years to convince myself that ghosts weren't real, asking myself how and why do I believe demons and spirits are real if I don't believe in God, but honestly, I feel that some things are just too much for the human mind to comprehend. Does anyone else have an experience with the Hat Man?

This has been on my mind non-stop since I discovered that he's a known entity and not just some random guy from the 1800s wandering around my old house. I have seen five shadow people since the summer of 2017, with a possible six, but that story is 15 years old and I never actually saw the entity, only its eyes. I have seen many more unexplained shadows, but shadow people are something completely different. In my experience, they are tall, vantablack, and almost twitchy in their movements, and I only ever get heavy oppressive feelings from them whenever one shows its face, or lack thereof, in my house. I document my paranormal experiences on a personal blog, but I keep the posts locked, and this is the first time I am sharing them with the rest of the internet outside of my friends list. August of 2017 is when I saw the first one. My mother and I, together, are amateur paranormal

investigators, and while we were working with a local team during our training, the topic was brought up about the veil thinning. This was in the summer of 2017, during the months leading up to the last solar eclipse that was visible in the United States. The lead investigator told us that we would likely experience a higher volume of activity leading up to the eclipse with a sharp drop off afterwards and honestly, I believe that. I do live in a house with activity and paranormal occurrences before the solar eclipses were fairly frequent followed by sudden silence afterwards. One experience in particular has earned its spot as the scariest thing I have ever experienced and I still have not told my brother that I saw this thing in his room. One day I will but not so long as we live in this house. My brother is on several medications for

mental illness and I have taken responsibility for making sure he gets those myself for several reasons and one morning I entered his room as I usually would to give him his pills for that day. He was still asleep in his bed as is usual but he was not alone in his room. I wasn't standing directly over him. His bed at the time was pushed over against the wall and it was smack in the center of the room several feet but I saw this pitch black figure roughly 6 to 7 feet tall just standing there. It was solid black, vantablack like I said before and its head was shaking, twitching. I blinked and it was gone. I left the room and didn't come back for almost an hour to give my brother his medication. And that's not even where it ends and why this experience has sat at the top

of my scariest ever paranormal experiences, even though the last one I will share in this post could have easily taken that spot. For the rest of the day, the hallway connecting my room and my brother's room to the rest of the house was overcome with that oppressive feeling I have since come to attribute to a shadow people. I was in the kitchen making something to eat and I could just feel eyes on me the entire time. It was eerie. I even had to psych myself up to leave my room to use the bathroom because that feeling was so heavy. But I hadn't told anyone about this at this point. My brother to this day still doesn't know about it and I never shared it with my mom until the next morning. But that following morning my mom told me that she had

gotten the worst sleep of her life that night because of that heavy oppressive feeling. She was almost certain that someone had been standing there watching her sleep. I just responded with, it's funny you should say that because you'll never believe what happened to me yesterday. That bad feeling hung around the hallway for the rest of the second day before it finally dissipated. In April of 2018, I saw my second one. On that day, a tornado touched down in the town and then proceeded to turn the corner and rip up farmland and tear the barns to shreds. It touched down merely 50 feet from my house,

in the parking lot of a local tourist attraction that sits on the other side of my house. I was not home when the storm hit. I was at the library with my family and the neighbor's daughter, listening to the news tell of a confirmed touchdown in our town. Once the tornado warning lifted, we hightailed back home. Fortunately, we survived with minimal damage. We were missing a little bit of siding and I had to pull my trash cans out of the woods and it knocked a piece of my fence down but otherwise we were unharmed. One neighbor had the roof ripped off of their shed like a sardine can and there was a tree that had impaled itself through the roof of one of the buildings of the aforementioned tourist attraction

but other than that, a booth getting tossed into the air and destroyed and some trees being knocked down, there was little damage in town. Until the tornado turned around the corner into farmland. There is still metal shrapnel embedded in the trees to this day. I can't say for sure that this next shadow person is related to this. I always found it suspicious that it happened the morning of the tornado, but it could honestly just have been a coincidence. But after a few hours before we left to the library, I saw a shadow person scurry down the hallway on all fours. It held that same, almost cartoonish, twitchiness that the first one had,

and it scurried fast, almost like a time lapse at triple speed, and then it was gone. There was that heavy feeling, but it was fleeting and gone just as fast as the figure was. In June of 2018, I threw a bottle of shampoo at a shadow person. Our water heater had gone out and for a bit until we brought it to our landlord's attention, we just made do with boiling water on the stove and filling the bathtub and taking baths. I was taking a bath one morning watching YouTube and my phone propped up on the toilet lid when I saw a black void bolt from behind the toilet and disappear behind the trash can on the other side of the bathroom. My first reaction was

to throw the shampoo bottle at it but it just bounced off of the bathroom. My first reaction was to throw the shampoo bottle at it, but it just bounced off of the bathroom door. I did not stay in there long enough for it to reappear. In September of 2018, I saw a shadow person number four. At least I think it was a shadow person. It had the same solid vantablack composition, the same supernatural speed, but I never felt that heavy feeling. That was just weird. But I was in the kitchen, waiting for my food to finish cooking in the microwave and leaning against the counter and playing on my phone, when this pitch black shadow just squeezes

itself between myself and the counter, gets up in my face for all of a fraction of a second, and then slips back down and disappears. Certainly the weirdest thing I've ever experienced. Shadow person number five and second scariest of my life happened just a few months ago at the beginning of January 2019. I have three dogs and taking them outside is a challenge in itself during the day but at night it's borderline dangerous. All three dogs are poorly behaved, one of whom is like a horse and the other two little dogs who like to get under everyone's feet, not to mention the risk of stepping in poop. It wasn't 100% dark outside yet. It was the final phase of twilight where everything was bathed in a dark blue. My dogs were doing their business when my littlest dog started barking his little head off at something across the yard.

This is normal for him. He barks at absolutely everything, so normally I wouldn't have been phased but it was that heavy feeling that caught my attention and as I turned to look in that direction I saw a shadow person charging across the yard right at me. It stood out like a twitchy inky splotch in a vaguely human shape against the twilight and I immediately turned tail and dragged the dogs who had not finished their business back inside. My mom was not home that night, and I immediately called her to tell what happened. She tries to tell me that it was a residual haunting. She thinks everything is just a residual. This was 100% not a residual haunting. The first encounter I saw the shadow person was when I was about 11 years old.

I was on a camping trip with my cousins. The early morning everyone was still asleep except for me and I was staring at the side of the tent when I could see a clear outline of a boy wearing a cap on the side of the tent except instead of being like a normal shadow it was solid black in comparison of the shadows of the trees and other things casting over the tent. The boy then repeatedly walked back and forth past the tent. We were in the middle of nowhere and I was scared considering I thought a complete stranger was pacing our tent. When everyone else woke up we went outside of our tent and there was no one around. I told my cousins what had happened and they didn't believe me.

Yet it was like the boy followed me home because he would appear behind people when I was talking to them outside, in the doorway or walk along the fence line at random. His appearance wasn't ultimately creepy besides him appearing at random outside over the course of the year. The last time I saw the boy was when my friend and I had a sleepover and my mother was working so we were going outside, not sleeping and messing around. We were in the front yard late at night when we felt like someone was watching us so we got a torch and shined it around the yard then down the street. No one was there yet when

we shined the torch over a power pole we briefly saw a boy in a cap poking his head out from behind the pole yet even when the light hit him he was completely black. We shined the torch around the pole for a bit yet didn't see anyone so we went inside and locked the door. Nothing else occurred until I was around 14 and encountered the girl who was ultimately more aggressive and creepier. The first time I met the girl, I was half asleep at a family friend's house. The family's friend had doors in most rooms except the makeshift guest room that they had curtains in the doorway for privacy instead of an actual door. Again, it was an early morning and the family friend's kids were running around making noise. I rolled onto my side to see

the shadow of a very tall girl in a dress holding the curtain open staring at me. I was annoyed and thought it was a resident of the family friend's house so I said what do you want and then she immediately vanished and the curtain even dramatically flickered as if there was a sudden breeze. I went back to sleep. A few days later again when I was sleeping I could feel the blanket slowly dragging down my body. I assumed the blanket was falling off the bed so I just felt around with my eyes closed and pulled the blanket up. Then the blanket aggressively whipped down to my ankles. I, still being half asleep, assumed the kids of the house were being little idiots and messing with me, so I pulled the blankets back up, wrapped it like a

cocoon around me, and gripped onto the blanket at the top. I could feel the blanket really roughly and relentlessly getting tugged. By this time, I was so annoyed and just wanted to sleep, so I said, just take the blanket then. Letting go of the blanket that basically flew into the air and landed in the entry point of the room. I sat up and realized, one, there was no one else in the room since I would have heard them, there was no signs of running or laughing from the kids. Two, the intensity of the blanket was pulled off of me couldn't be done by a child and was major overkill of blanket snatching despite not seeing anything i was creeped out and ran down the hall into the living room where i stayed up until the rest of the night another encounter with the girl

and the more creepy ones was when i was sleeping on the couch of my older sister's house. I woke up because I felt a big whoosh of air as if someone ran at mega speed past the couch. I laid there wondering what had just happened and then I saw the clear shadow of a tall girl in a dress run really fast past the couch. By then I was scared so I didn't move and this girl was basically running laps past this couch at super speed with a whoosh every time she passed. Mind you, this was a living room so to even pick up a speed this girl was getting at in such a short length of area was supernatural to begin with. I was getting more and more spooked so I decided to make a leap of faith and try to dart into my sister and her significant other's room which

meant I had to pass the area where the shadow person version of the flash was sprinting. When I moved the girl stopped then walked around to the other end of the couch and stared at me. I was feeling bold enough to tell her to go away, so she came closer to me. I felt around for a cushion and threw it at her, which went straight through her and didn't do anything. She then basically walked up beside me and started leaning her face towards mine, so I covered my face with a blanket, started crying, then started saying the Lord's Prayer. I didn't move, and eventually I fell asleep until the morning. My sister told me in the morning, if I kept running around at night, I couldn't get out of her house.

The girl then would appear in the corner of my room at night at random. I slept with the nightlight on until I was almost 20. The worst and last encounter was her in my family home. I had a bunk bed that was a double below and single at the top. I slept on the bottom bunk. One night I woke up to pitch black feet climbing up the ladder of the bunk bed and the weight form on the top bunk as if someone plopped down on it. I stared at the top bunk not knowing what to do when the entire bed frame started shaking and rocking as if someone was up there having a seizure. I wasn't going to check it out. Then I started hearing a really harsh and rough breathing with something that almost sounded like

growling, so I just started praying because I was too scared to leave the bed. I then slept on my floor of my mother's room for several days. The final time I saw what I assumed was a shadow person was when I was about 21 and I booked a hotel room with a female cousin. We were going to an event in the city area. My cousin got trashed and I wasn't that interested in drinking. We got back to the hotel and my cousin went straight to sleep. My cousin was laying there sleep talking and I was playing on my phone. The beds were separated like typical hotel beds with a bedside cupboard in between.

I looked up and a tall shadow of a man was standing over my cousin. He simply appeared from nowhere and I was trying to get my cousin to wake up. The man immediately whipped his head to me. Because it was a shadow it had no facial features yet it was staring directly at me. He then basically zoomed towards my bed which I jumped off and switched the overhead light on and he vanished. My cousin was too drunk to notice and I kept the lights on all night. So it started out with this little cow thing my grandma got from her client. But she comes home with this cow that's like a little motion detector.

Every time anything moved in front of it, it would moo. You can see where I'm going with this, I'm sure. She set it on a shelf that's right next to the dining room table. Every time I was home alone and in the living room, that thing would go off non-stop periodically. I dismissed it thinking it was just a broken toy so I took the batteries out of it. Problem solved. Okay, this next event happened late at night. I'm going to preface this by letting you know there is this old TV on the dresser right in front of the bed. One of those old blocky TVs that have the static screens when nothing is being picked up by the antenna. So I was in my room, messing around on my phone and then the TV just turns on out of

nowhere with nothing but the static. Cool, that's weird, I'll just turn it off. Rinse and repeat about three more times. Being thoroughly spooked, I unplug the thing and wake my grandma up and let her know what just happened. She brushes it off saying it's the electrical. I don't know enough about electrical at the time to argue with that and I would be fine with that explanation if my grandma didn't do what I'm about to tell you. I kid you not, she grabs her bible, starts spewing out some Spanish, and draws a cross on the dust on the mirror by my bed. I knew I was screwed. I can't remember if this next event happened before or after the last one, but it wasn't a long time between. It's late at night. The lights are off.

I'm lying in bed ready for some sleep. As I'm dozing off, I start to hear tapping. Literally like someone's tapping on the ceiling. I turn the light on and it stops. I wait a few minutes to see if it'll happen again. Nothing. I turn the lights off and lay back down. After a couple of minutes, the tapping continues.

I turn the lights on again and it stops. I play this game a couple of more times before I say, forget it, I'm too tired for this, tap away ghost. Those were my smaller, easily dismissible experiences. I thought they were creepy, but they could easily be anything other than the paranormal, so I forget about it after a while and just moved on with life. It wasn't until this next experience that I truly believed there was something other than my grandma and I in the house.

It was daytime and I was completely alone in the house. I was playing the piano in the living room, just vibing, and then I start to hear voices. I immediately stop playing and try and hear where the voices are coming from and what they are saying. As I focused on the voices, I realized it was the radio in my grandmother's room. I thought it was weird that her radio came on randomly like that, but whatever, maybe it is electrical. I approached her room really slowly because my gut is just screaming that this doesn't feel right. As soon as I step in her room, the radio shuts off really suddenly and this sense of dread just overwhelms me. At this point, I literally say screw this and bolted to the door leading into the garage.

As I opened the door, I turned back just to take a look, and I see my grandmother's recliner that's in the middle of the living room rocking violently. I slammed the door, opened the garage, hopped in my car, and skedaddled right out of there. Never in my life have I, as a grown man, been so terrified. story, be sure to submit them to my subreddit, our Let's Read official and give and receive feedback from the community, and maybe even hear your story featured on the next video. And join my Discord to interact with me and other listeners directly. And if you want to support me even more, grab early access to all future narrations for just $1 a month on Patreon, and maybe even pick up some Let's Read merch on Spreadshirt. Link's in the bio.

Thanks so much, friends. And remember, no matter how you slice it, it's still bologna.