The Lets Read Podcast - 76: Episode 067 | Waitress & Home Invasion Stories | 27 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: July 27, 2020

Welcome to the sixty-seventh 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 Waitresses, Home Invasions & Dark and Stormy Nights... HAVE A STORY TO SUBMIT?► www.Reddit.com/r/LetsReadOfficial FOLLOW ME ON - ► Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsread.official/ ► Twitter - https://twitter.com/LetsReadCreepy ►YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/c/letsreadofficial ♫ Background Music: Iron Cthulhu Apocalypse https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFvrqVSJE8E PATREON for EARLY ACCESS!►http://patreon.com/LetsRead 

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agreement with iGaming Ontario. This incident occurred during my second year of college, sometime in the fall of 2002. All four years there, I worked as a waitress in a small family restaurant next to campus. The pay was far from adequate, but the owners treated me like one of them. For years there I worked as a waitress in a small family restaurant next to campus. The pay was far from adequate but the owners treated me like one of them. Growing up without parents made this connection very important to me, so much so they remain an important part of my life to this day. I was one of four girls working nights and three of us were students currently attending the university. The surrounding

neighborhood had been on a downward slide for the past 20 years. Even with a large number of students inhabiting the area, crime was still steadily on the rise. In order to at least try to prevent ourselves from becoming victims of said crime, several safety measures were implemented. All the usual things, escorting each other to our cars not leaving the back door open things like that however no matter how hard you try to be safe some a-hole will find a way to violate you anyway one late night just as we were wrapping up the dinner shift a giant idiot would do just this and in the process almost cause a beautiful family to collapse.

That night we were quickly coming on the end of another regular dinner shift when a man came in and said he wanted to get something to go. No problem, I took his order and gave it to the kitchen. Working in the kitchen that night was Matt, the owners's only son, and he wasn't happy when he saw it. He tried to throw it together as fast as possible so he could finish cleaning and head home. While he waited, the man paced nervously, looking outside repeatedly. This behavior seemed kind of shady, so I stopped my closing duties and began looking outside to see if I could see what he was looking at. It took a minute, but I caught sight of another man standing just out of view of the bay windows.

This guy was dirty looking. His hair looked like it hadn't been washed or combed in years. The second man's actions were very similar to the others, almost as if though they were about to rob us. I foolishly pushed my instincts aside and began ringing up the man's orders. When I gave him the total he quickly handed me a $20 bill and looked behind him. I continued to ignore his behavior and when I opened the drawer I heard a man's voice quietly tell me to give him all the money in the register. Maybe from instinct I looked up to see who it was. It was all coming from the customer and he was holding a handgun at my face. Keep your voice down and don't panic.

Just give me the money and I'll leave. This entire time I had been the only employee in the front of the house, so he had me at his mercy. Every word he said quivered as it came from his mouth. His fear made mine even worse. I didn't need to be told twice. I grabbed every cent out of the drawer and was about to hand it to him when I heard Matt's voice coming from behind me. Did you forget something? Everything that happened after this went by so fast. I still question my recollection of events to this day.

I know for sure that Matt's arrival surprised us both, but the look on the customer or robber's face was pure shock. The second I noticed him moving the gun away from my face, I crouched behind the podium to hide. The gunfire followed soon after that. I wasn't sure if Matt had been shot at this point. I was still curled up on the floor with my arms over my head, very similar to a child hiding under the covers in hopes the boogeyman will go away. I don't know how long I stayed like that. A few seconds, maybe? When I did peek out from my arms, all I saw was Matt's body laying motionless on the floor.

Even then, I stayed where I was until I heard the voice of his mom yelling out to us. That's when I finally stood up to see the results. The shooter was gone, and money was scattered all over the floor from where I dropped it. Matt more than likely died immediately. At his feet, grilled chicken salad was scattered everywhere like the money. Matt's mom stormed out of the back. When she saw her only son lying on the floor, she collapsed in grief next to him and this is where she stayed until the police arrived. Just to avoid making an already long story longer, I'll leave you with the facts.

Even after telling the cops everything I saw and giving a detailed description of both men, neither man was caught. The family closed the restaurant for several days after the shooting and stayed that way until a few days after the funeral. From the day of the reopening, a cop in plain clothes has protected the place and there hasn't ever been another hold up since. My work at the restaurant would continue for the remainder of my time at the university. I was shaken up for quite a while and may have been for far longer if it wasn't for the love and support of the family. We seemed to have served as a coping mechanism for one another and, through the shared pain of Matt's death, brought closer together.

After I graduated, I moved on and am currently living in Atlanta with my partner. The restaurant continues running five days a week and doing well. It seems the neighborhood may be on its way up. In the last year, several large companies have opened branches and the continued growth has proved to be a positive thing for all concerned. Allison, the matriarch of the family, recently told me on a phone call that she was willing to put up with the hipsters that were slowly invading the area. After all, they were a big step up from the murdering crackheads that had been seen there before. If I have my dates right, this happened on November 17th of 2017. It was a Friday night and my roommates and I were going to dinner before we headed to my brother's club. No one could agree on what they wanted to eat so we ended up driving around for an hour.

All the indecision was driving me mad so I finally made the choice for everyone. This particular restaurant served the best egg rolls in town. It also used to be where I waited tables. However, after the owners sold it to an investment group, it became an intolerable work environment and I was forced to seek employment at another restaurant. Keeping the chef was their only wise decision. I wish I could recommend it to you but after what had happened, you'll see why you may want to give it a pass. A line was already beginning to form out in the front of the building but I was willing

to wait. My roommates moaned but I assured them that the food would be worth it. They should have counted themselves lucky. I'd waited tables on Friday where the line stretched three blocks. I was pleased to see we were only twenty customers from the door and the line was moving rather quickly for a Friday night. As we stood around waiting, we began making small talk to pass the time. Just a few moments later, a group of people at the door began yelling at each other. They were involved in an argument with another gentleman that had just left the restaurant a

moment prior. I can't tell you what they were arguing about. It all took place in an Asian language, possibly Vietnamese. I'm still not sure. The language they were using didn't matter much, they were obviously all angry about something. While this big melee was roaring right in front of the restaurant, the line wasn't moving. An older gentleman, a few places in front of us, finally had enough and approached the arguing group and asked them to take their disagreement somewhere else. He was nothing but kind and didn't raise his voice at any point in the conversation. His intervention only served to worsen the problem. Now both parties involved in the argument turned on the older man and began

yelling at him in broken English, mostly curse words. The back end of the line, including us, began moving in closer attempting to get a better hold on what was going on. The noisy back and forth continued for several minutes until it became violent. The lone Asian gentleman, who had been accosted by the group, started cursing in an unknown language once again. Suddenly, in a very casual manner, he pulled out a large pocket knife from his jacket, opened it, and began stabbing the older man over and over. He did this probably five to seven times in quick succession and returned it to his jacket pocket after folding it closed. Before he turned and walked away, he threw up his hands and yelled one more thing in an unknown language. I was in a state of shock and couldn't

believe what I had just seen. The man didn't even seem to care that he'd done what he had in front of multiple witnesses. He didn't run away or nothing, just walked away calmly and casually. The older gentleman was beginning to fall over so one of the women in line, who later turned out to be a nurse, told him to lay down while she applied pressure on his wounds. I don't think he'd even realized himself what had occurred to him. The look of surprise on his face was very upsetting. Almost every member of the line had their phones out and dialing 911 in seconds. I take my hat off to the New York emergency services. They were on the scene in less than five minutes. It seemed that

the gentleman wouldn't survive despite their fast response. The pool of blood surrounding him was already large and was getting larger by the second. When they rushed him away, he was still conscious but starting to fade. The nurse left with them, still holding her hands firmly against his chest. Strangely, most of the crowd had already disappeared, and the few of us left could only tell the police what we'd witnessed. At some point, while everyone was distracted, the group of three people the assailant had been arguing with quietly and silently slipped away. I can only assume they thought they'd possibly be held accountable in some way for the attack.

Since they were the only people who knew what the argument was about or what was said between them, no one else could provide the police with any answers. That older man just happened to barge into something he shouldn't have. After seeing a man attempt to end the life of another man, I didn't have much of an appetite or desire to dance. Two of my roommates still felt like eating, so I left them there to get an Uber home while myself and Nita, my fourth roomie, returned to our apartment. We shared a small bowl of leftover spaghetti and crashed for the night. I scoured the internet for days after in hopes of hearing the older gentleman's fate, but I never did discover

whether he lived or died. Same thing goes for his attacker. The residents of that part of town are known for being tight-lipped toward the police. I hate to think he's been allowed to get away with that. It could very possibly be murder. If I do hear any news in the future, I'll share it with you and your readers. You can possibly guess that after this, I never return to that restaurant. No egg rolls, no matter how good they may be, are worth my life. I'm not proud of how I behaved in this story, or to admit I was utterly clueless. But it happened. At 17, I took a job waiting tables at a new highbrow restaurant that had opened the year before. Any eating place that ranked above Golden Corral had a very hard time making a go of it where I lived.

When I returned home from my first shift and told my folks some of the food we offered, I was met with two blank stares. My dad didn't even know what filet mignon was before I told him, and I'm still not sure he completely grasped the concept. My mom has already been the more worldly of the two, and even she wasn't sure what the restaurant was trying to offer. Their attitudes proved to be shared by the majority of others around town when I told them where I was working and this mindset left me with a very little faith that I'd have my job for long. Fortunately the chef that opened the place had made a great name for himself in Dallas

and his fans were more than happy to make the 45-minute drive to eat at his new restaurant. Being exposed to something new like this made the job more enjoyable than working the counter at McDonald's. The customers were also much classier and kinder than many of the people I had grown up with. Probably the most loved of the regulars was a businessman from Plano named Preston. He treated the waitstaff with respect and tip more than he ever needed. One Thursday evening he came into the restaurant with his wife and another couple. After choosing their wine they ordered their dishes.

Roughly 15 minutes passed and I was called to bring their orders to the table. All was well, so I moved on. Less than a minute went by before I heard a lady's cry coming from behind me. I turned around to see Mr. Preston standing at his table, flailing his arms about. His panic had me perplexed until the wife of the other couple yelled, He's choking! Help him, please! Like I said at the start, I'm not proud to say it, but I had zero idea of what to do. You could clearly see he was scared and beginning to turn blue. I was panicking now.

Just in the lick of time, Mrs. Preston returned from the restroom to calmly wrap her arms around her husband and thrust them against his diaphragm. A hunk of steak shot out of his mouth like a bullet and he instantly returned to his normal color. She nonchalantly kissed him on his cheek and said, Honey, you need to start chewing your meat more. One day, no one will be around to help you. A cute, sly grin appeared on her face as she sat down. Mr. Preston also sat and continued breathing heavily for a couple of minutes.

Her calm yet decisive action in such a scary time threw me for a loop. That lady will always have my respect. I was still freaked out, so I had to go sit in the back for a minute to regain my composure. When the owner saw me and asked me what was wrong, I explained to him how harrowing those few moments were. After I described what Mrs. Preston had done, he explained it was something called the Heimlich Maneuver and what it did. The incident did become a motivating factor in his decision to make the restaurant's employees take CPR classes just in case something similar happened in the future.

So I guess a customer's near death did cause something positive to happen. Once I pulled myself together, I headed back out to check on my tables, starting with the Prestons. Mrs. Preston went on to explain that this had happened before a few times and she had made her husband promise he wouldn't eat steak when he was alone. Nearly choking to death still hadn't taught him to chew his food well, but I still can't eat steak, even ten years after witnessing it. My first job waiting tables in college also just happened to be my first time meeting a person with mental illness. The place I was working at had this schizophrenic dishwasher named Irving.

He was actually a very kind man but I could see why his physical size may have intimidated anyone who didn't know him. I'd wager he was about 6'5 and his frame was what I would call husky, but he was by no means fat. His childlike manner meant you were virtually unable to dislike him and many of his innocent takes on life make me laugh still. I happened to have a friend whose mother served as his caseworker for about a year. She told him that although he basically had the mind of a young child, on the rare occasions he became violent, he could do a lot of damage. Even after hearing this from a person who saw Irving on a clinical basis, I couldn't dream I would ever be in a situation to see him lash out. Our work environment was very light-hearted, and I can rarely remember an instance in which another employee, the owner included, ever raised their voices.

Employee turnover was very low because of this. Sorry to say, however, the day I'd never expected to see happened before we opened on a Wednesday evening. The routine we dinner shift employees would follow was that we would usually arrive at 4pm and never see the guys that came in the morning for prep. They usually came in around 8 and were done with their work way before the dinner shift arrived. The 1% of times we did run into them, it rarely went well. Two of the three guys were cool, but one in particular, Cliff, was a real jerk. This evening, Cliff aimed his venom at Irving. I'm not sure if he had a death wish or he was just stupid. Probably stupid, actually.

But it seemed he mistook Irving's kindness for weakness and began talking to him in a very condescending manner. Hey, Corky. Can you wash this pot for us? I want to get home before midnight, so hurry. Despite not yet being on the clock yet, he was more than happy to do it. I think the regular dishwasher had already left, and Cliff thought he was too good to wash it himself. The other prep cook, Johnny, also happened to be the sous chef, and he was quick to tell Cliff not to be rude to Irving. Perhaps not solely for Irving's sake,

but Cliff's reply showed the utter contempt he held for Irving. That dummy isn't smart enough to know what I'm doing. I'll be fine. No more than a second after finishing his thought, Irving made a fast turn and swatted Cliff with one hand, knocking him a few feet into the big double oven. The oven put off a lot of heat and must have burned Cliff badly. His screaming made my blood curdle. I just happened to be in the kitchen when this occurred and it was my first and last time to witness Irving's anger. Cliff barely had time to acknowledge what was going on and Irving didn't appear to be done.

I don't know if anyone else was as terrified for Cliff as I was Irving didn't appear to be done. I don't know if anyone else was as terrified for Cliff as I was. I didn't dare make a move, not because I was scared of Irving. I was more afraid that Cliff would go after him. Instead, Cliff knew he'd messed up and didn't have enough time to get away. Thinking quickly on his feet, Johnny spoke up in time to distract Irving from smashing Cliff again. Hey, big man, have you got that big stew pot for me? I've got to make a batch of gumbo for tonight and we open in half an hour. As if someone switched on a light, Irving's scowl became a big happy smile in an instant.

Okay, Johnny, here you go. He pulled the pot from the hot dishwasher and handed it to him like the last few seconds had never happened and went back to his work. It was the most amazing thing I'd ever witnessed. I was sure Cliff was about to die right in front of me but one kind word managed to diffuse it. I don't know if Johnny really did have to make gumbo, but he knew Irving very well and how much he liked him. I'm just glad he was there to prevent Irving from ruining his life over some idiot we all hated. Johnny then nonchalantly took Cliff into the office and closed the door. I'm unaware of what was said, but after after that discussion Cliff never spoke unless spoken to again. Johnny did tell a group of us later that Irving wasn't going to be punished. He had a talk with the owner that night and they agreed that Cliff was the party at fault.

After his burns were treated he was sent home and I never saw him again. I did however see Irving many more times and he always had a big green on his face. Seeing first hand how quickly he could switch back and forth gave me a small insight into the mind of a mentally ill individual and made me much more sympathetic to their plight. This was one of the main reasons I decided to go on and become a mental health professional. I felt a duty to become an advocate for the mentally ill and make sure they would not be labeled as raving mad people like the way most of the public see them.

The way, I'm ashamed to say, even I, once believed them to be. I'd gone the first 22 years of life without having any near-death experiences and hoped to make it through the rest the same way. Unfortunately, a month ago, I was put in such a terrifying position, I was afraid my life was about to end. The gist of the story is that I was the victim of mistaken identity. From what I've been able to gather in the interim, a former female employee was having a tryst with a fellow male employee and her boyfriend or ex-boyfriend, I'm still not sure,

did not approve of the relationship. I want to start by saying that I never worked with or even knew the woman in question. Being a gay man, she wouldn't have been my type if I had. A couple of people that were around when she was told me that she and the man she was sleeping with had been fired a good six months prior to my employment. The unlucky coincidence appears to be that he and I shared the same first name and physical description. This had to have been why I was confused with him. A quiet evening in July, I was working, waiting tables, and just before 7.30, I got a single male sat in my section. He didn't look especially mean upon first sight, but he was a rather large man. I'm 5'11 and this man towered over me. Nothing was said at first.

I took his drink order and when I returned with it, he confronted me about the affair. So you're the loser that's banging my girl? I asked him to repeat what he'd said and only got more hostility in return. You heard me, boy. Ginger told me about your affair last night. His demeanor terrified me. I knew if he wanted, he could easily destroy me. Fighting had never been my forte and a guy his size would have no trouble laying me out. I did my best to assure him I didn't know his girlfriend, but this only made him angrier. Listen, you can deny it all you want, but she told me your name and what you look like.

Saying you don't know her is just making me more mad. I could see the hate burning in his eyes. He spoke with gritted teeth and spittle was beginning to come out of the corners of his mouth. My shaking had to have been obvious to him. I was on the verge of running away, but I didn't want to come off as any bigger a coward than I already was. I'm sorry, sir. I in no way want to make you angry, but I swear that I've never met a girl named Ginger in my entire life. If she worked here, it must have been before I started. I literally only worked here for a few months.

Any relationship I had ever had hasn't even included a female. If you get my meaning. It took a moment, but he caught on and his scowl morphed into a smug grin in seconds. Telling a complete stranger about my preferences wasn't a discussion I wanted to have. However, I was out of ideas and decided on the Hail Mary. You look like one of those deviants, but it's going to take a lot more to convince me than that. Playing that card must have been a bad idea.

Although his voice had lowered slightly, he was balling his hands into fists and this made my trembling worse. Why don't you man up and admit you were balling my girl? You got a whooping coming either way. If you admit it, I might be a bit easier on you. It was as if he hadn't heard anything I'd said since he first accused me. The whole time this had been going on, I hadn't been aware of what else was going on around me.

Someone in the restaurant, perhaps a patron, had notified my manager what was happening at this table. He came around just as the man had threatened to assault me and interrupted the conversation. Excuse me, sir. I just overheard your threat toward my employee and that is something I cannot allow customers to do. I'd like you to leave immediately or I'll be forced to call the police.

You can call whoever you want. I don't care. I'm just here to tell this little wimp I'm going to give him a stomping for banging my ginger. The manager's threat didn't seem to make any difference to the man. He was still just as mad before and wasn't showing any signs of leaving. Sir, if you mean Ginger, the girl who left here more than six months ago, I can almost guarantee you that this young man never had any interactions with her. Now, there was another young man with the same name as him that I was forced to fire the same time as Ginger. I inform every employee at the time they are hired

that relationships between employees are forbidden, especially when one of those employees are management. A rumor that they were violating this policy reached me, and when asked about it, they both confirmed it. Because of this, they were both terminated that same day. This young man is a new employee and to my knowledge does not know either of these two. Maybe you should go back to Ginger and ask her to be more specific about the situation. Like I said, I can't have people coming into my restaurant and threatening my employees.

You heard the real story, so now you can leave. And please do so now. The entire time my manager spoke, he never raised his voice except for the end. Even then he kept his composure. I think because of this the man finally started to believe what I had told him. He stood up at the table and he must have been at least 6'5". One more shudder of fear shot through me when I realized how massive he was. Okay mister, I'm gonna go and have a talk into Ginger again, and if I find out you lied to me, I'm coming back and putting both of you down. The man in turn for the exit.

I'd recommend you not do that, sir. My manager hit him with one more parting shot as he left, but the giant ignored it. Once he was gone I could finally breathe again. After I took a few minutes to calm myself, I returned to work. That evening and every shift I've worked since, our manager has made sure to walk with me to my car when I get off. He's had a permit to carry a handgun for some time, so this safety measure does make me feel secure. I don't think he's really worried about himself. Since we have our own parking area in the back of the building not many other people

come back there. I'm not even sure many other people know about it. I nor anyone else have seen the man since that night but will probably continue with the escorts for the foreseeable future. I pray each day I leave for work that I won't see that monster ever again. If he does return, I'll update my post. However, I'm pretty sure if he was going to, he would have by now. Let's hope I'm right. What I'm sharing may not be as serious as many of the other stories I've seen, but one recent incident in particular has led me to think I should reach out to someone for advice.

I'm a 24-year-old female that has just lost my job as a personal assistant to a mid-level executive in the fashion industry. My termination came so quickly I was unable to find another job in the same line of work before my rent came due. Desperation drove me to apply for a waitress job at a small family restaurant near my apartment. Despite having no prior history waiting tables, I got the job. I guess the owners were as desperate as I was at that moment. My first shift was on a Monday afternoon and I soon came to realize I enjoyed the work. Most of the customers were regulars. They were very kind and understanding of my hiccups and tipped well. It didn't take long for me to catch on and I was allowed to take as many shifts as I wanted. Before I knew it, I'd got my bills paid for for the month and even had a little left over for celebratory bottle of wine. As I write this, I have worked

at the restaurant for three months and almost every minute on the clock has been a blast. Crazy, right? Yeah, I know it's not a sentence I'd ever expected to say when I agreed to take the job. At first, my intention was to stay only long enough to get another fashion-related job, but finding out I was good at the table-waiting thing has greatly increased my self-esteem. Not to mention, the money is good. I can't say I had any complaints about the job until a few weeks ago. On a late Sunday evening one of the regulars appeared to have formed a crush on me. I wasn't aware of it at the time, or even aware of him until I waited on him the following lunch shift.

He had been on an extended vacation and now that I've met him I wish he would have stayed where he was. The customer in question is a 64-year-old gentleman who recently retired from the drilling industry. Not exactly my type, I must say, and a bit too old for me. My introduction to him wasn't any more strange than any of the other regulars. However, the way in which he stared at me the entire time made me nervous. Then he left me a $100 tip on a $6.50 tab. My initial reaction was one of joy, but as I dwelled upon it, I became uncomfortable with taking it. His return on that Thursday afternoon escalated my discomfort to an entire new level. I attempted to wait on him as he was

just another customer, but his reasons behind the massive tip soon became obvious. When I took his drink order he asked me if I appreciated my large tip. This gave me the opportunity to tell him I wasn't comfortable taking a tip that large. But he interrupted me before I had the chance and hinted that I was now beholden to go on a date with him. The idea disarmed me. I wasn't sure that he meant what I thought, but just to be safe, I returned the hundred dollar bill to him. The last thing I wanted to be seen as was some form of prostitute. When he was young, some women who waited tables may have sold themselves, but this girl is no whore. When I handed the bill back to him,

a look of shock appeared on his face, soon followed by a big smile. All he could say was, I've never seen a woman turn down a hundred dollar bill. Now I see how it's going to be. This reaction confused me. It was exactly the opposite of what I'd hoped for. I expected him to get mad, or at least get that I wasn't for sale. Him thinking I was playing hard to get scared me a little. However, I did consider that maybe I was perhaps misunderstanding what he meant. Our age gap could be making me misconstrue his intentions. It was possible he was only trying to show his appreciation for my services.

The remainder of his time in the restaurant that day, I said very little to him and he met me with his usual fawning gaze. Once he left, a load of relief was lifted from my shoulders. It was short-lived, however, when I returned to the table and saw the $100 bill sitting there. This was beginning to look like some type of game he was playing with me. I had the impression that once I accepted that tip, I would be accepting of much more in his mind. This brings us up to a few days ago, when he was once again seated in my section. Before I could do anything, I had to make it clear that I could not accept that hundred dollar tip. Once again, I handed it back to

him and told him that I was in a long-term relationship and could not go out with him, even once. My speech didn't appear to make a dent in his facade. He replied by saying that he had no idea what I was talking about, but as he said it, a sly, childish grin was pasted on his face. I was starting to become angry at the way he was acting and stormed off to get his drink. By the time I made it back, something had very much changed in his demeanor. The usual doting and loving eyes had disappeared and been replaced by a simmering fury I would have never expected to come from him. His grin was no longer there. His face had become expressionless and cold. When I noticed this change, a jolt of fear shot through me. From that point, nothing else was

said between us. One thing had not changed, however. When I returned to the table, the hundred-dollar bill was sitting there, but it was now joined by a small folded piece of paper. I unfolded it and saw that it was a brief handwritten note. It simply read, it would benefit you to accept this. A shiver tore through me. I was almost positive he didn't intend this to be friendly. Although it wasn't necessarily threatening sounding, his attitude change gave me the impression it was a helpful hint. The entire predicament has made me confused and unsure of how to move forward. On one hand, the gentleman has not come out and clearly threatened me in any way. Up until our last interaction, he was nothing but happy and kind towards me.

He also has never actually claimed to want to go on a date with me. As a matter of fact, he denied that this was his desire when I confronted him about it. To top it all off, I don't know one waitress who would dare turn down a hundred dollar tip and see it as anything other than a show of thanks for good service. When it comes to the change of personality, for all I am aware, something terrible could have occurred while I had gone getting his drink. It may have zero to do with me. On the other, however, his instance that I accept the large tip clearly makes me uncomfortable. He has to be able to see this. Continuing to insist I accept it

should be a bad sign. The split second change in his attitude after I told him I was not interested was more than likely connected, even if it was not. The speed at which he could become so different in the darkness of his eyes would certainly give anyone pause. As if it even needs to be said, putting the tip and the ominously written note together with the very unsettling interaction we had just had, I am of the almost 100% belief that I was being threatened. Nevertheless,

even after writing this, I am completely at my wits end and have no idea of how to proceed. This gentleman is a long-time customer of the restaurant and up until a few days ago, I've had nothing but positive, if not slightly difficult, interactions with him. Since my grandparents had passed away before I was born, I've spent very little time with people of his age, and I'm afraid I have mistaken harmless flirting with that of a predator. Therefore, I put this to you. What action do you think I should take next? Am I being an oversensitive snowflake, action do you think I should take next? Am I being an oversensitive snowflake or do you see trouble in my future?

Any feedback will be taken into account and considered. I definitely wouldn't be putting myself out like this if I didn't feel I may be in trouble. I need help, and I need it now. Nearly all men have a story or two of a crazy girlfriend in their history. What I'm about to share is my most recent and scariest encounter. Since I was 19 or so, I've waited tables in almost every kind of eating environment you can think of. My favorite and newest job is at a small Tex-Mex place in the hill country of Texas. I've been here a tad bit over two years, and it's proved to be the best paying job I'd ever had. Early on in my tenure, I started seeing, hooking up with whatever terms you choose to use,

with another girl working tables here as well. Once it became clear what was going on between us, I was warned by several of the others to turn and run as fast as possible. I normally would have heeded their warnings, but I was already ensnared in her web. Being a somewhat shy guy, anytime a girl appeared to be attracted to me, I fell pretty hard. Believe me, this girl was a looker. Seeing as I was too far gone, I was going to have to find out what made her so dangerous the hard way. The first clue came not long after we began dating. We had been hanging out around my place one evening and she discovered some photos of an ex-girlfriend. She played it cool and simply mentioned that the photos made her uncomfortable.

So, being the fool I am, I volunteered to throw them away. It wasn't until much later that I realized that had been her intent all along. Not that she knew how simple it was to control me. The next example was far more severe. I had the day off and decided to go have some beers with a friend. When she got off that night, she called me to come over to her place. Thinking back, she likely didn't provide me with much choice. When I arrived, I mentioned what I had been up to that day, she finally showed her true self. Instead of voicing her concerns directly, she pulled the silent treatment on me.

I caught on something must have been wrong and asked her what it was. I got the usual, nothing. Like a sucker, I kept asking until she unloaded on me. Per usual, it all connected to her insecurity. She began asking if I was with another girl. Honestly, I said no, but she wasn't happy with this. What followed was a four or more hour argument that only ended because I was too tired to continue. She was now up two against my zero, and it only got worse. The beginning of the end was when she accused me of using my aunt's funeral as an excuse to go back home and get laid. I'd had enough after

this and dumped her over the phone. Unfortunately doing this would only escalate her craziness. On my first shift after returning from the funeral we were supposed to be working together. She had me a little nervous, but when I showed up I discovered she had called in sick. It was a relief until the shift ended and she sent me a text saying she had nothing to live for anymore. A smarter guy would have seen this for what it was, but I'm not that guy. Rushing over to her place ended up being a ploy to get us back together and for a short time it worked. However, it didn't last and the final straw was not long after. I was working a shift and I received an odd text from her.

All it said was, someone let your dog out. The second I read it, I went into full panic mode. Either she broke into my place and let him out, or she had someone do it. I showed my boss the text, and he okayed me leaving to check it out. There was a chance this was a trick to get us back together, but I couldn't risk it. When I got to my apartment a few minutes later, my door was wide open, and he was, was in fact running loose. It was easy to catch but what I found inside freaked me out. She had used a copied key, entered and ransacked the entire apartment. Clothes had been pulled from the drawers and ripped to shreds. Even worse was that she had

smashed every dish and glass I owned and poured salsa and milk all over the carpet of every room. Once I had returned my dog, I drove over to Home Depot and bought a new deadbolt and put it in the door. I took a bunch of pictures, returned to work, and showed my boss what she had done. That was when I made the demand that she be fired or I was leaving. My boss thought for a moment and agreed. Losing her job obviously made her mad. A couple of days later I came out to go to work and found the word cheater scratched into the side of my car. I have insurance so thankfully that was no big deal. If that was the price of getting away from her, it was well worth it. It's been almost a month since I last saw her.

She sent a few texts, crying about how sorry she is and how badly she wants me back, but I've ignored and deleted them. My life has finally got back to being somewhat peaceful and I hope not to see her again. I ask you to pray for me and send all of your positive vibes my way that I never do. One last thing, and most importantly of all, if multiple people tell you not to go out with a girl, you should probably listen. They likely have a good reason for it. These days, I can do anything from my phone, book a vacation, order a meal from a five-star restaurant, buy and trade stocks. But maybe the most amazing thing I can do is make my dirty laundry disappear and then reappear perfectly washed and folded. I have Rinse to thank for that. I just schedule a pickup in the Rinse app or at Rinse.com. A Rinse valet comes to get my clothes, and before I know it, they're back, crisply folded, and ready to wear.

They even do dry cleaning, which is returned hanging in a nice Rinse garment bag. And with Rinse, my satisfaction is guaranteed. If for any reason I'm not happy, they'll re-clean my clothes for free. Best of all, Rinse saves me tons of time each week. That's time I get to do something I love versus something I have to do. So if you want to save loads of time by not doing loads of laundry, remember, there's an app for that. Rinse. Sign up now and get $20 off your first order at rinse.com.

That's R-I-N-S-E dot com. I was roughly 19 years old when this story occurred. I'm a tall male around 6'1 and I was living with my parents at the time. For reference, I live in a fairly condensed region of my country and luckily for me I live on the more lavish side of town in a rather large house. However due to where I am burglaries and home invasions are not a rare occasion and I knew at some point it would happen to me but that didn't make it any less petrifying. My parents wanted to have a romantic weekend away as their jobs have kept them very busy and they felt very much stressed. I gladly obliged as I wished to have the house to

myself so I could play games until my eyes went square. They gave me about 50 euros for food and essentials and quickly sped off to the awaiting taxi. The rest of the afternoon went fairly quickly and a couple of hours passed and I'm on my PC with a couple of my mates. I looked over at my bedside table and my dated alarm clock read 1am. I slowly rubbed my eyes and I decided I was too tired to continue playing my games. I told my mates that I was heading off and pressed the power button listening out for the final sound of the whirring fan to die out. I headed downstairs to get a glass of water but then as I was grabbing the glass I heard a slow inconsistent tapping over at my window. This obviously confused me as it was so sudden but the area I live in is known for foxes to try and get in to get food so I checked the door it was locked and

headed upstairs. The tapping eventually stopped and I sighed a long sigh of relief as the sound was beginning to aggravate me. I was lying in my bed trying to get to sleep but roughly half an hour later I was awoken to the same scratching sounds but this time it was at my window. Now I've read enough horror stories and creepypastas to know looking out my curtain was a horrendously horrible idea. However, this was bugging me so I crept over to my curtain and slowly pulled it back, dreading what was on the other side. My stomach lifted as I was greeted with nothing, but at the same time I closed them I heard the shatter of glass in the kitchen. I was terrified. I heard the sound of thick heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

I snapped out of my frozen state and quickly closed and locked my door just as whatever was in my house got to the landing. I rummaged through my drawer for something to defend myself with. I unearthed an old Swiss army knife that my dad gave me when I joined the scouts years ago. All this time this person is kicking at my door. I picked up the knife and jumped into my closet. Not too long after I hear the sound of my door finally giving up and letting this person in. I look through the gap. I saw a rugged man standing in my room, virtually foaming at the mouth with a rage that I had never seen before. His eyes were bloodshot, a deep crimson, and he was throwing my thing, searching for me. I knew I had to act. I finalized on the idea that if this psycho came

to my closet I was going to stab him. He came over to my closet and I knew the inevitable was going to happen. He pulled open my closet door and I was greeted with this man who had menace in his eyes. I took no chances and plunged my blade into his chest penetrating through his bone letting out a blood-curdling scream before collapsing to the floor. I ran so fast out of my house I got carpet burn along the bottom of my feet. I rushed to my neighbors as quickly as I could and explained to them the situation and they called the cops. I stood outside my house as they dragged the ragged man out. Needless to say I stayed at my neighbor's house as all this insanity was sorted out. In the summer of 2016 my best friend at the time, Rhonda, introduced me to this girl,

Jerry, who was 18. I was 15. I've got to admit that I was pretty desperate back then because within a week of knowing her, I said yes when she asked me out. Jerry was pretty and everyone has flaws of course, but she had something off about her. The way she talked was in an odd, egotistical way. She admitted to many of the substances that she had taken in her life, that her dad was in jail for pretty much being a stalker, and that sometimes her ex would plead on a weekly basis to get back with her. As I said, I must have been desperate.

We dated for most of the summer and honestly those three months weren't too horrible. We would go to each other's houses and hang out and then go on adventures that she felt more comfortable enough to drive to and from considering I didn't have a car at the time. Suddenly one day Jerry said, I don't want to be with you anymore. With no explanation. Admittedly, I was a bit heartbroken, but she was eager to stay friends. After the breakup, there was a week of conversations between us that I believe were intentionally made to hurt me. She would still call me babe and other cute names that would feel like a dagger to the

heart. One night I told her to stop doing this because it only made the heartbreak worse. She acted like it was such a horrid thing to ask of her. We argued about it for hours it felt like and it ended with me explaining that I do care for her but I've realized that I wouldn't want to get back with her after all of this. She seemed to switch demeanors and said she understood and wanted to go to sleep. I couldn't sleep that night for whatever reason but around three in the morning I get notifications of Jerry posting all over her social media about wanting to end her life. There were pictures of her self harming and others of lots of pill bottles which both looked taken in her home. There were pictures of her self-harming and others of lots of pill bottles

which both looked taken in her home. I texted her frantically asking her to stop and get help or I would call an ambulance. I was shaking so bad while she messaged me back slowly after each text. She tried to explain that I would be fine and she's just doing her thing. As I went to call an ambulance anyway, I realized all the time she purposely didn't tell me her address. She only drove me there. I had no idea where Jerry lived. She consoled me that she ended up not taking anything and would go to sleep. Knowing that she wouldn't change her mind any further, I gave in to it but didn't go to sleep. Two hours later, Jerry sent a snapchat of her by a stomach pump machine in the hospital, making some regular face

in that stupid dog filter. She told me she was admitted into the psych department in the local hospital and would have to stay for a week. The last thing I told her then was that I hope she gets the help she needed and I honestly meant it. A week later she texted me and Rhonda trying to make time for us to hang out. I already didn't want to be with her and Rhonda assured me she didn't either. Out of curiosity I asked why she didn't want to. Rhonda explained to me that this girl was cheating on me with many people during our relationship and had a past of doing some serious illicit substances with her father before he was incarcerated she knew well about it all and even showed me screenshots of Jerry talking to other people in beyond flirtatious ways that she had sent Rhonda saying things like he's cute isn't he

planning to never talk to either of them again, I texted back Jerry and told her to never talk to me again and attach the screenshots. She tried to explain herself but I just blocked her. Later that night as I was at home probably watching some movie, my phone blows up with calls and texts from unknown numbers, cursing at me and asking me what I was doing. The one threatened me constantly, telling me if I don't give her the stuff back, I will regret it and never see the light. I was confused as the only thing I got out of the relationship was a birthday gift. Even if I blocked the numbers, there would be more rushing to call me names and harass me. I unblocked Jerry's number and tried to tell her that if she doesn't stop all of this, I'll call the cops.

She cut me off almost immediately and asked me to come outside my door. I rushed to see that no one was in my driveway. I ignored her and continued, but she cut me off again. Come outside with the birthday present I bought you or I swear you don't want to know what I'll do to you and hung up. I looked in every window until I saw her black jeep patriot parked by the road in sight across from my house. I picked up a stupid box of essential oils I got from her earlier in the relationship along with my mace and stood by the door. Since it was visible from the road, I just waited there. There was no way I was going to walk it to her. I saw her start her car and pull into my driveway. Shaking for my life and with mace ready to be sprayed, I walked to the

car and handed the box through her window. Jerry was laughing along with a couple of her friends that I've never met who all had that look that addicts do while they looked at me like I was some food platter she pulled out of my driveway fast almost running my feet over I didn't hear anything from her only things about her Rhonda had also dropped her and told me that Jerry would sit in front of her work for hours just staring at her through the windows. However, sometime in the next fall, Jerry tried messaging me on Facebook attempting to make things mutual. I blocked her without any replies. Then, one night in the next summer, I was scrolling on Instagram until I found this post from a spam account that talked about cheating on their boyfriend in a very casual tone.

I looked through the posts, trying to understand why they would do such a thing or, even better, who they were. I had a belief that I was following this account for a long time, maybe two years even. Their captions consisted of emotional poems and regular spam things, like complaining about everything. It wasn't until around the tenth post I realized how familiar this sounded. There were poems about days I had spent with Jerry and things we had said to each other, but there were poems about hurting me, literally ripping my heart out because I didn't deserve it. I was horrified, asking what I could have done for her to feel that way. I didn't call the cops only because my parents don't feel comfortable doing that sort of

thing, but I felt in danger. I confronted Jerry through private messages telling her to delete everything and leave me alone. She took it as a joke, explaining how I have no hold over her now that we're apart. My friends and I reported the account until it was taken down. To this day, those poems keep me up some nights, describing the specific ways and all the different things that she was going to do to me, even where and how, like it was planned to do so. I told my mom about it finally a year ago when a package was sent to me in the mail from her. Essential oils worth around a hundred dollars with a note saying I hope you still want these like I still want you. My mom took it lightly explaining that they're

only words and she won't do anything. I just know that every time I spot a black jeep patriot, my heart skips a beat. November 17th, 2017 was my girlfriend's 18th birthday. Now I was 20 but we had been off and on for around 4 years, never actually being official. Yeah strange it may seem, well I had known her my entire childhood and helped her through an abusive relationship. She had shut me out of her life from the span of August 2015 to January 2016 despite all my efforts to stay and listen and help her. I had later come to find out it wasn't her but rather her boyfriend at the time whom I will refer to as John. My family is very wealthy and we live in a very nice gated community which only those with proper permission and security badge can get into. My girlfriend will be referred to as Jessica to keep her and myself safe as this is still an

ongoing problem. November 17th, 2017, Jessica and I went to a movie at a movie theater which my parents had owned for over three years and we had never had any problems aside from a robbery attempt in 2015 which was unsuccessful and thankfully no one was injured in the process. Well after that my parents had upgraded the security system with good quality cameras and locks on all doors. When I went to the movies we would usually wait until after hours and go have the theater to ourselves. Everyone had left both customers and employees at this time as it was nearly 2am. The security system had been set and there were motion sensors in all the halls to detect movement but the theaters didn't have this as it wasn't exactly necessary given you can't get anyone into the building without using the hall.

I don't remember any cars or anything looking out of the ordinary as we pulled in and walked into the theater. We go to the front door, disarm the security system, not leaving any doors unlocked, and me and Jessica proceeded upstairs to power on the projector and start our movie. Turning it on in the big theater for better picture quality and sound, we made our way downstairs and grabbed some popcorn and candy that I had the employees leave in the back room knowing we were going to a movie. Jessica said she heard something and I just chalked it up to being her typical paranoid self. When I opened the door for her I got a very uneasy feeling but

going against my better judgment we proceeded to walk into the theater and watch our movie. At some point Jessica said she had to use the bathroom and walked out down the hall. Five minutes go by and I hear Jessica running into the theater which I assumed as because she was extremely excited for this movie and didn't want to miss it. She then said sorry I just got a really bad feeling walking down the hall by myself. This didn't seem strange to me as being alone in this big building when no one is there and it is pretty dark is sketchy at best. Dismissing her comment once again as her being paranoid we finished our movies sometime after. I went, set the security system, waited for it to

activate and proceeded to my car. I was quite spoiled and being a total car enthusiast I bought a brand new Corvette just weeks before this. Seeing something strange about the stance of the car I noticed it was slopped toward the ground and the front driver's side. I had rushed outside to see what had happened. Obviously it was a flat tire but I had drove less than 50 miles on these brand new tires. Making it to the car I had seen a very prominent slash mark near the rim. I was furious. No one messes with my car. I was ready to punch someone in the nose.

Jessica started to try and calm me down. Through the surprisingly well lit parking lot I was able to make out a silhouette. It didn't take much for me to start walking over to him as the amount of adrenaline I had running through my veins right now I'd be able to KO Dwayne Johnson. As I was walking over I realized it looked a lot like John. I see a flash of light that I instantly recognize as a metal reflection. Jessica behind me saying oh my god he has a knife didn't worry me in the slightest. Humbly I like to think I could hold my own as I played running back and linebacker all throughout high school being on a bench 240 with a very stocky build I started walking over to him. I heard him talking to Jessica saying things such as come home with me baby I missed you

and other nonsense. This instantly made me even more angry than previously. He starts walking over to me thinking he's tough. I didn't think for a second he was going to use this knife which I was terribly wrong. He slashed my left arm, which was the breaking point. I was dead set on ending this kid right there. With two hits, he was on the ground with a crooked nose and a broken jaw. I continued to hit him three more times while he was on the ground, smashing his head into the ground so hard I couldn't believe he still had a skull. By this time, Jessica had called the cops minutes beforehand and managed

to pull me off him. The cops got there and called the paramedics. They took the knife and put it in an evidence bag taking him back to the hospital and paramedics patching up my arm before I went in to eventually get 32 stitches and had to get surgery because of the nerve damage I had suffered from his knife. The cops took Jessica's and my statement, took pictures of my car and everything else that had happened. Pulling the camera footage showed just how in the wrong he was as well as him slashing my tire in my arm. He ended up getting put in a mental institution for five years

which I have since been informed has been increased to 20 years for constant threats about my girlfriend and I while talking to a counselor. After he had been checked into the hospital and put under police surveillance other officers got a warrant to search his apartment. In his apartment they found photos and videos of stuff he did to my girlfriend while they were dating. He would give her sleeping pills and roofies and take advantage of her. At the time she was only 16 and didn't even know about it. She still isn't aware of everything he did because I informed the detectives

and talked through it with her parents to give her time to recover before telling her what happened. John, I swear to God if I ever see you again, no matter how changed you are, you won't be taking another breath. So I was diagnosed with Crohn's beginning of 2013, during my first major flare-up, I lost my grandma on my mom's side and my papa on my dad's side. Though losing both was heartbreaking, I had a stronger connection with my grandma because she was the only grandmother I had gotten to know growing up. Both of them had always had a way of making people around them feel at ease. My grandma made you feel at home and loved, then my papa was

someone you know would go to the ends of the earth for you. They always had a scent that lingered around them. Grandma always smelled of Chanel and papa cigarettes and motor oil. Now after their deaths I continued receiving treatment for Crohn's and for the most part had it under control till about 2017 when another flare-up landed me in the hospital. I was in so much pain that no pain medication would work. I was brought into the ICU for pain treatment while waiting for surgery. Turns out that my bowel was so inflamed that it had swollen shut a whole three-foot section. If I had waited any longer than I did it's likely that I would have died. I was brought into surgery, a complete ball of nerves but just before they placed the mask for the anesthesia on me I caught the scent of Chanel. It took all my fears away and honestly left me so

relieved that I could feel tears coming. I had asked the nurse standing above me who was wearing the perfume. I wanted them to know how much that meant to me to have that thought of my grandmother. She looked down at me sort of confused and told me that they weren't allowed to wear perfume when they knew they were on call for surgery. Then the anesthesia kicked in and I was out like a light. The surgical team probably thought I had gone a bit loopy from it and painkillers and they went on with the surgery. The next thing I remember was laying down on my back. The room I was in was warm and the light was more of a golden hue than electric lighting like a room filled with sunlight. I could feel my body wanting to rise from the table but I felt multiple pairs of hands holding

me down. The two strongest at my shoulders and I just knew that had to be my grandma and papa. I have had ideas who the others were but I won't get into them right now. I could feel one of my grandma's hands stroke my hair softly. All I knew for certain was that they didn't want me to go somewhere, that they were fighting to keep me on that table. All of a sudden I could feel my body become heavy, sink back into the table and things going black again. I woke up again a couple of days later in a hospital bed to the noise of my mom and dad having a fit toward my doctor and surgeon, my now husband holding my hand,

praying over it. Side note, my husband isn't religious, that's how scared he was. To have a former US Marine that scared really shocked me later on. This is where I find out that something had gone wrong during surgery. From what I gathered, I had a bad bleed that almost lost me too. Before I could process any of it I spoke out in what must have been a rasp because it freaked everyone out in the room. I looked toward my mom, told her that she needed to stop as she was making a mountain out of a molehill. She turned white, no one has said that since her mother passed away. Quickly though she and my dad hurried over to me and I spent the rest of the week in the hospital in and out of it because of the painkillers. But that isn't the end. I was taken to my parents home for rest. The entire

time I would catch glimpses of my grandma and papa throughout the house and I wasn't the only one to sense them. My dog would stare at them from time to time. I felt like I was safe and healing well till one day about a week after I released. Now I never liked the smell of cigarettes that clung to my papa and sometimes when I was younger it made me sick. I started to get really sick, throwing up nothing but fluid and was in horrible pain worse than before the surgery. I was so uncomfortable that I couldn't get comfortable and in so much pain I kept telling my mom that I wanted to be put out of my misery. The entire time I could smell my papa's cigarettes.

This continued late into the night when my husband finally rushed me back into the hospital. Turns out my pain was due to a large blood clot in my portal valve. This feeds blood to the intestines and liver. I was only 23. This type of thing doesn't happen to women my age, or at least I thought. Turns out I do have a blood clotting condition. With my surgery and disease it put me at higher risk. I have decided that my papa was trying to send me a message. I was brought back into the ICU for monitoring. I had a few more scares during my second stay, had three IVs pop veins, woke up one morning to a puddle of blood and IV fluid, then because I had grown weak and still wasn't eating, I had to have a sort of IV tube inserted into my arm to pump in nutrients

and last but not least, a strange reaction when I was having an episode of pain from the clot. Apparently I had forgotten where I was, why I was there and who I was. The whole experience has left more than my physical scars. I now deal with depression and anxiety despite moving on with my life. The few good things I was able to take away from it all was the idea that my grandma and papa were there with me when I needed them. But sometimes I wonder if what happened in limbo was real or something my dying brain made up. What do you think? This happened about a year ago but nonetheless I'm still freaked out by it on the daily. I work in a pretty known store in the local mall. I've been working at the store for going on about six years now. We sell a lot of random

items. The store is known for having wacky things in it. Things for commercials, infomercials to Facebook, Instagram ads and more. While working here I've seen my fair share of mall rats, druggies, creeps and just all around weirdos. The mall is in a pretty terrible side of town anyways so I'm used to it. I've had my number asked for a handful of times and some things that have made me call security but I never really think too much about it and carry on with my days. On this particular day I had a few regular customers and a few new ones just wanting to check out the store. A man and his daughter walk in, the dad being actually really good looking and his daughter is awfully cute. I proceed to help them with some

questions about toys and even start talking to the daughter, asking what toys are favorite, making conversation. He ends up buying our toys that were buy two get one free but you have to be part of our program to get the deal which means we input your name, phone number and email. This will all come together later however. They leave and I proceed with the day. A few days later I'm back to work with the regular two to nine shift. I don't work full time so when I have days off they're usually in a row. My manager leaves at 5 30 every day and I'm on my own from there. Just the simplest tasks like answering the phone calls, ringing customers and,

you know, retail. About halfway into my shift, I get a call on the store phone. At this point, I'm the only one working so I answer with the usual useless spiel. It was a man asking about one of our most popular sellers, a pain therapy system. Nothing out of the ordinary as I usually get calls about this item. I continue telling him how it works and the cost of it. As I'm talking the man stops me and says, are you the pretty girl with glasses and long brown hair? Well, I am the only girl that works in the store and that has long brown hair and glasses so i say yes with hesitation and he says what's your name my daughter loved you the other day i also think you're gorgeous wondering if you want to go out for coffee sometime

i smile and say my name's anna thank you but I do have a boyfriend. I genuinely do have a boyfriend. I automatically thought about the man from the other day and put two and two together. For the sake of privacy I'm not going to use his real name and just call him Richard. Richard then says, of course a pretty girl like you has a boyfriend. But coffee doesn't hurt, does it? I'm a quiet girl and don't really like many friends and something just felt off about this guy. I couldn't really put my finger on it. I didn't want to disrespect my boyfriend at the time and go out to coffee with this guy so again I said, I'm sorry I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate that.

Is there any more questions about the pain therapy system I can answer for you though? With slight anger in his voice, Richard says, Yeah, if you could hold one for me, that would be great. I'll be there within a few days. After the phone conversation, I look down at my cell phone on the counter and see I have a Facebook friend request from six minutes ago. It's Richard. I get creeped out because I know I for sure didn't say my last name to him and we would still be on the phone while he added me so that means he dug through all of the Annas in the city just to find me. Around two minutes later I feel a vibration and it's a Facebook message. You guessed it, from Richard.

The message entailed, God you're so gorgeous. You really won't go out for coffee? You look unhappy in your relationship and I think you could do much better. Me sitting there reading this, I couldn't believe the nerve he had to say these things. What does this guy want from me? I marked the message as unread trying to give off the hint that I don't really care. The next day I had the morning shift and work 9 to 5.

Around 10am Richard strolls in and I think, ugh great. He buys the pain therapy system and storms off in anger. Weird but okay. All I can think is how does he know when I work? How did he know when to call? Curious I go through the phone's caller display and notice that there was a number that called quite frequently over the past few days and went to Richard's account on the computer and the numbers lined up. My co-worker's shift starts at two and when she came in I asked her if she had answered this number the other day when she was working. She said, Yeah, I picked it up every time and no one was on the other end. That means Richard called to make sure I was working until I finally picked up the one day.

Creepy. I continued to get various Facebook messages from Richard calling me harsh names then taking them back and apologizing. At this point I got fed up and just decided to block him. Not even a full week later I get into work at 2 and my manager says there was a guy here for you this morning at 9. The store doesn't open up until 9 30 so so I thought it was odd and asked, can you describe him? What did he want? She said, brown skin, blue eyes and bald. Kind of short too. Another thing he asked is if you were here and I said no and he just walked off. I thought Richard. I didn't think anything else of it since I blocked him and he can't do much other than show up at the mall which security would just tell him to stop making me uncomfortable

and buzz off. I lived about a 15 minute walk to work and I decided to walk instead of Uber my lazy self as there wasn't too much snow and the sun was shining. As I was walking I felt a text vibration and I opened my phone to find a number I haven't seen before. The text said, you walk to work? You must live close. My heart dropped and replied saying, who is this? Seconds later I get a text saying, Richard, I got your number off of Facebook before you blocked me. I can't believe I had my number on there. How could I be so stupid? I panicked. He must be close if he saw me.

I started walking faster work and got there in a record time of nine minutes, hoping he wasn't following behind. I didn't see anything. The coast was clear. The same day I went for lunch and saw him sitting in the front seats of the food court as I was going to get food. He didn't see me because I bolted back to work before he even had a chance to look up from his phone. After that day nothing happened for a few months. I broke up with the guy I was dating and moved back home with my dad. I went

through my block lists on Facebook and unblocked everyone that was on it, Richard being one of them as he hasn't bothered me since that day. I also don't like holding grudges so I thought I was safe. Wrong. The day that I unblocked him I got a message saying, oh you're single, coffee? I was single and was kind of feeling lonely at this point so I said what the heck maybe he's a nice guy that genuinely wants to get to know me. I messaged him back saying not until I get to know you first tell me about yourself. Richard replied I'm 35 have an amazing daughter and want some company. I thought this was weird as he was really attractive. How can he not have a girlfriend after all? Really overthinking the whole thing as I was lost in a daze I get another text saying actually you should come over or I'll go over

there. You live near me. I can drive over tonight. I pull back and ask, and where is it you think I live? He texts back with the street going off on my actual street. I automatically freeze. How does he know where I live now? I've been living at my dad's for months which was farther than my last place. Let's just say I'm glad iPhones can block numbers. I re-blocked him on Facebook and pray that I don't see him again. When I got back to work I told a security guard what I had went through and he said he would keep an eye out, but there's really not much they can do other than tell him to not bother me in the mall premises. I see him stroll by the store every now and then, gazing at me with an angry look. I guess the coast is clear, for now.

I live in a rural area in the Midwest, one of those areas that has nothing but acres of land around you. I came to learn a few years ago the land where my house was built over 80 years ago was once a farmland with slaves who were chained up in wooden cabins when they weren't needed. Honestly hearing that story broke my heart and I hoped and prayed those slaves found peace in the afterlife. When we first moved into this house there was an old barn that was still standing a bit far from the house but I never went into it and turns out the owner already sold the barn before he sold us the house and it was due to be taken down. It wasn't long before a crew came in and started taking it down but before they could finish it ended up collapsing and coming down on its own.

Where the last house on the street and a bit further down the road from my house is a very tiny, old and what I assume to be a family owned cemetery. And when I say old, I mean so old you can't even read the names on the tombstones, which are very thin and clearly were handmade. And because of that little cemetery I always had a feeling these houses would be haunted. And I can't speak for my neighbors but I definitely know mine is but that's another story for another time. My room is on the bottom floor and faces the backyard and also the stairs that lead up onto a landing that leads up to the deck and one autumn night I'm sitting in my room with the window open enjoying the cooler weather when I

heard someone walking up and down the stairs. I think it's my uncle so I didn't bother to look but after I kept hearing those footsteps wandering why he could have been walking up and down there so much. I became confused and when I looked over I saw absolutely no one. I got up, walked to the window to see if maybe it was my uncle and he just stepped out of view but there was no one and a few seconds later I began to hear those footsteps again and I immediately panic and slam my window shut, lock it and pull down the blinds, pull the curtains, and jump back into bed trying to process what just happened. After I calm down and get back to working on my computer, that's when I start to hear tapping on my window. And not just regular tapping,

it was always three taps. Being an avid ghost adventures fan, I learned that if something taps or knocks three times, then it's demonic. So I'd do my best to calm my beating heart and just act like I didn't hear it, which was a mistake on my part because the taps went from light to heavy and happened just a few seconds apart, always being in threes. My grandmother, who was in her bedroom down the hall from me, ended up hearing the tapping and came to my room to see if I had heard it also, and I told her, yeah, it's right outside my window. My grandmother, being the fearless woman she is, went to the back door, flipped the light on, and opened the door, looking right down to where my bedroom window is, then looked at me and said, baby there's nothing there.

I ended up texting my cousin who was upstairs at the time asking if he had heard it and he said, yeah but I thought it was you or grandma doing something downstairs making that noise. I told him no, I was on my computer and grandma was asleep, we weren't doing anything. A few minutes later he texts me back saying he went outside and looked and saw nothing. Tapping stopped after that I guess. Whatever it was didn't like that it caught the attention of my family. I still live in that house and nothing like that has happened again and honestly I don't ever want it to. I hate to think that it was something demonic and that it was targeting me. October 25th, 2015 was the worst day of my life. I lost my best friend, my dad. The day started

off normal. My dad called me in the morning to tell me him and my uncle would be picking me up to take me to my grandmother's to do some baby supply shopping with her, being I was around 22 weeks pregnant. The whole drive to my grandmother's, my father was saying everything a daughter wants to hear from a dad, like that I would be a great mom. He was so proud of me that I actually didn't mind my boyfriend, who he tried to beat up not long after finding out I was pregnant. Stuff like that. We get to my grandmother's, we all hung out for a while and eventually I go with her in her car and my dad gets into my uncle's SUV again. He jumps

back out of my uncle's SUV, which was unusual for him and comes to my window, gives me a huge hug and tells me he loves me so much and that was the last time I ever saw him. A couple of hours later I'm home waiting on my boyfriend to come home from work. Boyfriend comes home, we're sitting around for a couple of minutes talking about our days and he casually mentions that he got detoured because there was a huge accident on the way home and there was a fatality. I instantly feel a cold wave hits me. I knew it was my dad and my uncle. Just this terrible gut feeling. I frantically start calling and texting both of them. I text my uncle that I heard that there was an accident and it better not be you. I told my boyfriend I had to go,

and I had to know if my terrible feeling was right. My boyfriend wasn't so thrilled to go back in the car trying to convince me that it probably wasn't them, but he reluctantly came with me. As I'm driving there I'm getting the worst possible feeling, a feeling of dread. I get to the accident scene, no barriers have been set up but the cops have it blocked off. I got out of my car and walked up to the cop car, finally being able to get a decent look at the flipped destroyed SUV. I knew it must have been his SUV as soon as I'd seen it but I still asked the cop what kind it was. She said what I dreaded hearing the most. It was the make and model of my uncle's SUV. She then asked me where my dad was sitting because

the passenger was killed. They didn't identify him at that point until I came and told them. It's never a good feeling being the one that has to call all your family to tell them there's been an accident and your loved one didn't make it. Fast forward, a week goes by. My mom, brother, stepdad, and aunts are driving across the country to be at his memorial. They use some kind of travel company to find cheap hotels as they drive across. They're about halfway across and they get a call from the travel company. It goes to voicemail. It's a man. He's crying and saying stuff about how he had to start a fire with a beer box. Just weird stuff. My mom called the company back demanding answers on why someone would do that.

The company seemed confused. They didn't have any males that worked in the office and there was no way it could have been from them. About a month after his death I was sleeping and wake up to what sounded like work boots walking around my house. I get up to check. I look around no one's there doors locked. I go use the bathroom and crawl back into bed. I wasn't too concerned about it maybe it was just the cats. Sometime after I fall asleep I had a dream. In this dream my dad was walking around my living room in his work boots. He was crying and saying how sorry he was about everything that happened. My dad's work boots was one of the few things I had of his. They had been sitting by my front door. I wish to share what I believe was a paranormal experience that occurred to me approximately 10 years ago.

It's not your typical Hollywood scare story, but all the same, I've not experienced anything like this in my life, and it has questioned my belief in the afterlife. About 10 years ago, I worked as an estate agent in my hometown in North Wales. It was a job I didn't enjoy very much but it did give me the opportunity to go out and view many different and interesting properties. One such property was a Jacobian hall dating back to around the 1600s. The property had been repossessed by the bank and my company was tasked with listing the property to sell. The property naturally had a lot of history, the most notable being visited by Oliver Cromwell's brother. I was also told it had a reputation for paranormal activity with numerous sightings of ghosts so I was intrigued and excited to visit the house. When we were given the keys by the bank to list the property for sale, myself and

my colleague Sue went along to take photos, measurements, and write up a full property description for the sales brochure. When we entered the hall we worked our way around each room, basically writing down every main feature we saw. The property was in disrepair and in need of a lot of renovation. We worked our way upstairs going through each bedroom. When I stepped into one particular bedroom I felt a great chill shoot down my spine and my whole body suddenly went cold. I remember the weather not being cold that day and for my body temperature to drop so suddenly didn't make sense at all. To add to the coldness I was feeling I felt like I was going to cry. I felt an incredible

amount of emotion and I didn't understand why. It's pretty hard to explain but it's a feeling I have never experienced before and it's something that didn't feel right at all. I called Sue into the room and asked her if she felt cold to which she told me she didn't. She then saw I had tears in my eyes and asked if I was okay. I told her something didn't feel right so by this time we both agreed it would be best to finish up getting all the details we needed and get back to the office. Fast forward a couple of weeks after that eventful day and naturally the property attracted a lot of interest. One such person was a lady who we arranged to show around. I couldn't show the

lady around myself due to me being tied up with another client, so it was left to Sue to carry out the viewing. When Sue returned to the office, she told me the lady she met actually claimed herself to be a white witch possessing supernatural abilities. Her only intention was to view the property so she could make a connection with the spirits from the past. Given the history of the place, the white witch picked up on a number of spirits in the house. One such notable spirit was located in the bedroom I had that strange occurrence. She told Sue that a child had actually died in that very bedroom and that there was a great sadness associated with the room due to the tragedy.

My jaw nearly dropped to the floor when Sue told me this. Everything was starting to make some sort of sense. To this day I never experienced anything like what happened to me the day I visited that property. It has made me think that there may well be some sort of spiritual world that exists beyond this world but the experience that occurred that day is something that I will never forget, and I wish to never experience again. The story took place when I was around 12. My parents signed me up for a camp in Austria that involves all kinds of activities that you can sign up for. This was my first time separating with my parents for such a long time, a total of three weeks. Let me tell you a bit about the camp, so you can get the picture. Each person would have their own schedule of activities.

However, my schedule had a lot of holes in it, so I would have nothing to do about every other day. Instead, I'd spend time around the camp's building. Among other things, it had a pool and since it was summer, it had many people in it during the day. We were not allowed to use it before breakfast or after dinner. I love swimming, so I visited the pool frequently and it was pretty fun. One day I was splashing in the water like usual and there were these three boys pranking all the other girls. We had water gun fights and played all kinds of other games and it was actually fun. I thought I made friends.

That was until it got weird. I liked eating my breakfast quickly because for a short time while the water was too cold for anyone else I could enjoy the pool for myself. One of these mornings I got changed and headed for the pool and those three boys were near the boxes full of toys and equipment. They were putting on goggles and said hi. One of them, the leader of the other two, handed me some goggles from the box and told me to put them on. I said thanks and jumped into the pool. I was swimming back and forth under the water and eventually saw them jumping in too. I thought nothing of it and just kept swimming

around. I bounced off the pool wall and as I was drifting to the other side when I saw one of the boys swim underneath me, facing me. He had a big grin on his face and was drifting to the other side when I saw one of the boys swim underneath me, facing me. He had a big grin on his face and was giving me the thumbs up. I was confused but then the other two joined in. They were just watching me swim from the bottom of the pool and I soon realized why. I was only one year older than the other girls in the group but I looked a bit, shall we say, mature. I was not prepared for puberty like that so my bra fit a bit too tightly. These idiots. Soon four people entered the pool and we continued playing like nothing happened.

I wasn't too concerned, I thought it was just all some sort of game. With more people crowding the pool the trio was getting away with more stuff. They would watch me jumping into the pool and joke that they were waiting for my swimsuit to just slide off. They were getting more touchier in their games, looking at me and tugging my arms like it's just a game. At this point I got more serious and asked them to stop. Then the main boy got angry. He suddenly shoved me under the water, laughing and the other two sunk too. Underwater they were holding my arms and legs to restrain me while the other guy was reaching his hand to take off my bra. I screamed underwater,

almost drowning now and began kicking them where I knew I should. They let go and I gasped for air. I swam to the edge of the pool and one of them got really close and whispered how they do things to me and no one will know. I got out of the pool and ran to the changing room quickly. They would continue harassing me for the next couple of days. I would try to go swim at odd hours but I would see them run towards me and jump in the pool before me. They would rattle the door to the changing room if I tried to get dressed. I didn't know what to do. I didn't even feel too scared, I just didn't understand what was going on. I was very passive about

everything. At last I told one of my few girlfriends about it and she was furious how I should have told her sooner. That morning we both went swimming and the boys were there. She was very angry so she told the guys to leave me alone. So for the rest of my time there I would only go swimming when she did too and they wouldn't bother me. To this day I feel anxious thinking about how close I was to something bad happening. What if I never told anyone? At the time I believed their threats. Many other things contributed to me not trusting guys but I'd rather not share that.

But this story is what started it all. I could not see the red flags then. I only remember the details of it because I found a journal from my time there. It's been many years and I hope that I will one day be able to find someone I can trust. I am not so blind anymore. A few months back I had met a guy in the woods. Bad idea, I know. I asked if he was some sort of killer and he responded yes. Fast forward almost a half a year later, we are happily dating and he is by far the best person I had ever met. I had just gotten out of the toxic relationship and I believed relationships were constantly fighting for everyone. My now boyfriend has proved me wrong.

He's so sweet and caring. He's literally my soulmate and dreams come to life. And I know I'm going to marry him. So perfect is hard to believe. But the hard thing about life is that nothing good comes without a consequence. The only negative aspect about my boyfriend is his dad. For this story I'll call him Richard since the nickname suits him perfectly. To give some background, Richard is a man who knows many people and has lots of money,

yet as of recent seems to be running dry. He also was abusive to his two wives and his children. He also has custody of his two children although my boyfriend is 19 and his daughter is 17. He ended up winning the custody battle because of his fancy lawyer. The sad part is as soon as he got custody he left his kids with a random church family and moved to my state which was quite the distance away. My boyfriend ended up moving to my state to work for Richard's company. The trouble with Richard is that he is a narcissist. The money only makes matters worse. He thrives off control and power especially with his kids. Going out to eat with him is awful. For example, the first time I met him was at dinner where he proceeded to tell the waiter to sit on

his lap. It was awful. When he sees his daughter he is especially creepy and controlling. He talks about her body too in a creepy way if you know what I'm talking about. As of recent he went on a trip for a month which left my boyfriend and I to spend some time with each other. Over the month we became inseparable. When he got back however things are turning sour very quickly. He always said that my boyfriend and I could not see each other for more than four hours a week, only married people do that. So as rebellious teens we found a wedding catalog and were going to leave it out in front for him to see. Deciding against it we hid the catalog. When he got back

however he went digging through my boyfriend's room immediately and you guessed it, we hid the catalog. When he got back, however, he went digging through my boyfriend's room immediately, and you guessed it, found the catalog. I didn't know until one morning after breakfast he looked me dead in the eyes and said, Are you my daughter-in-law? I practically choked. He thought we had eloped when he was gone. Once he found out we didn't, things went downhill. He forced me to go shopping

and gave me all these expensive items that I tried to deny. During the little shopping spree when my boyfriend was not around, Richard would get really close to me and touch my arm or wrap his arm around me uncomfortably. He would get close to my face like he was going to make a move on his son's girlfriend and say, so why are you with him? Or, are you sure you want to stay with him? It was awful and made me feel horrible when my boyfriend would come back all smiley and having a good day for once. The more I thought about it, the more I realized Richard was trying to play mind games and almost buy me out and completely screw over his son with no way to leave. After that day, he has increased pressure. I am now not allowed to see my boyfriend without Richard's supervision. There is now high-tech cameras with audio everywhere. He is building

a huge house for me and my boyfriend to live in with him. He is even putting in a tub for his future grandkids. He keeps saying we aren't allowed to get engaged until after college. He answers my boyfriend's phone. My boyfriend isn't allowed to be on his phone after 9. He now can't even stay with me on his only day off and he's threatened to bury his son if we have kids before 30 and if he didn't think it could get worse, it does. Today Richard was snooping through my boyfriend's room and was picking at a stain on the blanket. He then looks over and pulls out my thong from under the bed. Up till today he thought I was this huge religious girl who was

waiting till marriage. That was the only way I was allowed to see my boyfriend, even though Richard didn't wait, got married at 19 and did horrible un-Christian like things to his wives and kids. So now he's mad. My boyfriend is giving up hope for getting away from him and I am never going to be able to see my boyfriend until he's away from Richard. If you are wondering why my boyfriend hasn't left yet, it's because Richard has access to his bank account. He's his boss, and he keeps him so broke he can't save for housing. As of recently, Richard will pull a stunt like picking out all the expensive items. Then when they get up to the register, he says he forgot his card,

so my boyfriend has to pay after the cashier already scanned the items, or after they had eaten their food. The biggest problem is over a truck. My boyfriend has this truck he bought and worked three jobs for in high school. Richard paid for the rest as a graduation present and is currently being worked on in another state. This truck is everything to my boyfriend and there is no name on the title as of now. Richard threatens to put his name on the title and sell it for lots of money. My boyfriend refuses to leave the situation till he gets his childhood dream truck he's invested so much money into. He is also afraid to leave because his father then will move his little sister up here to live way up in the woods alone with him,

the same daughter that he's tried to cuddle with in just his underwear in her bed. She's 17 and he also talks about her things. If anyone has any ideas or advice I would appreciate it. I am stuck and I feel like I'm losing hope. I know that this is what he wants and I won't give in. My boyfriend has also told me I'm the only reason he has hoped to keep fighting and leave after he gets the truck. My heart goes out to anyone who's experienced anything similar. It is so mentally and physically exhausting I'm drained. That may also be because I am possibly pregnant too. I will update as things progress. This happened maybe a year ago now and it happened to kind of my entire family. I was 20 at the time,

my sister 17. So one night we were all asleep and my sister was on some serious medication because she had trouble sleeping due to night terrors. It was storming out and it doesn't usually hear so I was up with all the noises and thunder pacing my room. My home is two stories and my sister got the only room on the first floor because she wanted the bigger room with the french doors. There's two sets, one in her room and one in the living room, that led to the back. Anyways, it's storming and the wind is really strong and I'm already on edge. All of a sudden there is a big thump from downstairs, like someone threw open the back doors and the house alarm starts screaming. So my first reaction is to of course jump in my bed and right as I do I hear my dad, a former marine, jump out of bed, grab the pistol he and my mom keep under the mattress,

heard my mother ask what was the matter and hear him throw open his door. Let me explain the layout really quick. When you come up the staircase of my house there's the bathroom. Right across from there in the small hallway goes in a sort of L shape from there. At the beginning of the L is the bathroom, the corner is my brother's room, then my room and at the top of the L is my parents room. My father stares in my room, in his t-shirt and boxers. He military raid style kicks in my door, clears the

room, tosses me the extra 9mm he keeps in his closet and says to follow him. So he kicks open my brother's room and the bathroom and clears those rooms, takes the stairs at least three at a time down to the first floor and whistles so I know I can come down. At this point now everything my dad's prepared us for safety wise is kicking in with adrenaline and it's hilarious to think about this part because I'm in an oversized t-shirt and panties, my dad's in his t-shirt and boxers with socks on and he's clearing out the house, all this happening within two and a half minutes I'd say. So he kicks open my sister's room where we see the back doors of her room are wide open and rain is pouring in. She very groggily sits up and asks us if her soup is ready. My dad stays with her and I clear the

kitchen and the living room which is one open space and the living room windows are bay style and face my backyard and disarm the alarm when I hear my dad shouting, his pistol fire and a voice that is very much not his say, shit. And I see a tall flash of dark run across the backyard and throw itself over the back fence. I immediately call the police and they're there within minutes. Apparently when I left the room to clear the living room, my dad walked from the door to the foot of my sister's bed. She has a big wood frame that you can't really see the other side unless you're standing where he was and at that point my dad saw the man lying flat on the floor of my sister's room trying not to be seen by us. He left behind a

large kitchen knife and a rolled up string of rope. They never found the guy who broke in, and we reinforced the back doors and changed the locks since they were from the original owner when we moved in, which we should have done in the first place. It was very scary, but now we look back and we laugh because my sister was so out of it. The guy ran off and my dad ran after him across the backyard. By the time I got to my sister's room to check on her she just looked at me, obviously still not awake, said everything's fine and tried to go back to sleep. All this happened over a couple years in high school. I'm now 27 and completely over it, but at the time it was terrifying. My family and I tell this story

all the time as just a funny thing that happened to us, although at the time it was anything but funny. The lady who lived next door to us moved out and an older, I would say mid-forties couple moved in. Everything was pretty normal at first. We lived in a small town in Canada so we would exchange pleasantries with them if we saw them outside, chat about the weather, that kind of thing. One day in the summer she came to our door and asked if we would mind paying half for a fence she wanted to put up between our yards. My dad said it was no problem but if we went through my uncle it would be super cheap. He's an accountant and insanely frugal. She got huffy and didn't want to go through him. My dad said that that was fair enough but he was going to get his own quote, not from my uncle but from another company,

and would pay half of that. She didn't like that at all and she stormed off. Things started slowly getting worse. So slow I hardly noticed it happening. Little things. Like in the summertime when my bedroom window was open I could hear her in her backyard yelling. She would yell at her boyfriend, at my dad or mom. Honestly sometimes I think she was just yelling to herself. She would have these crazy mood swings where she would one day flip us off as she was getting out of her car and the next day she would run up to my dad being super nice and ask him about her car or our insurance or whatever. We started just assuming that maybe

she was bipolar. She was very entertaining for a while. As I said she would get into screaming matches with her boyfriend and the cops would be called. My whole family would watch from our front window. She was clearly drunk a lot. She would drink all day and then call the police or the fire department or an ambulance or something because for the years she lived beside us there were flashing lights outside of her house quite a bit. My mom and I had a membership to a small gym at the time and one day she showed up. She acted like she was so glad to see us, big smile and wave and ran right over to us. We could smell the booze on her and she kept

touching me and telling my mother how beautiful I was. It creeped my mom and me out. We went and talked to one of the girls there. Before we even brought neighbor lady up, she asked us about her and said that she thought she might be drunk. We confirmed her suspicions and told her that neighbor lady was drunk a lot. The issue is that she had driven to the gym, so the lady that worked there called the police when she left and gave them her vehicle's make, model and license plate number. I honestly don't know what happened with that, but she did get her license taken away eventually and it could have been from that incident but more likely it was from a different one. I don't remember 100% of what happened but one night my dad was out

shoveling snow and saw a crazy lady pull into her driveway with extensive damage on her car. She bolted into the garage and stumbled into her house a little while later we see cop cars up front and them escorting her out of the house after that she would tell my dad unprompted that her car was in the shop or someone was borrowing it but we could see it in her garage whenever she opened it, I know none of this has been particularly creepy, but it was in the summer that everything escalated. One morning I woke up to the usual screaming in the backyard, but it was my mom screaming at crazy lady to leave us the fuck alone and not to talk to us anymore. I asked my mom what prompted this and she said crazy lady was yelling at my dad about our dog peeing on her lawn and my mom just lost it.

The next day all of the heads of my mother's flowers were cut off. That's when my parents sat my sister and me down and explicitly told us that we were not to speak or go near her no matter what. Unfortunately, not getting a response from us pissed her off even more. One morning my mom went out to her car to go to work and she found a picture of my family, no idea where she got that, under her windshield with our faces scratched out so hard that it had torn the paper. It was horrible to fear going outside at your own home. To be scared of being accosted by a grown lady when you were 15 or 16, no one should feel scared at their house. That summer my dog died.

She was 13 but in perfect health, albeit a little overweight. She was acting funny one day so my dad took her to the vet. They couldn't find anything at all wrong with her but said they would keep her overnight for observation. That night I got a horrible feeling and I begged my mother to let me go see Indy, Indiana Jones, our heroic dog. She said that the pet's office was closed and we could go see her in the morning. In the morning, we got a call that Indy had passed away through the night. My family got that dog when I was two and I am still tearing up about her death now. I loved her so much. That's why when my family started to find these weird, circular,

chalky things on our lawn, I freaked out. I was convinced, and I still am, that crazy lady poisoned Indy. She hated our dog and would bitch about her all the time and we only found these little discs for about a week following Indy's death. My family was unconvinced though. I think my dad believed me, he just didn't want to say anything. Think what you will about this, but I still firmly believe that she killed my dog. Things went on like this for another year. Her yelling things at us, throwing trash on our lawn, flipping us off, fire trucks and ambulances to our house. Then, the glorious day came that we saw a for sale sign on our front lawn. I think her whole family slept a little better that night. She wasn't around much while her house was being shown and luckily it sold fast.

My final story about her is from the last week she lived there. I had just come home from school and gone into the house. The weather was nice so when it was like that I would leave our front door open and only close the screen door. I'll call it a screen door since it's mostly glass with an adjustable screen, but I locked that door and I didn't have the screen down too low. I was sitting in the living room relaxing when I saw a crazy lady cross onto our lawn and barge up the stairs. I slid onto the ground and crawled into the kitchen hoping that she would just go away. She started to knock on the door and there was no way I was answering. I was all alone in the house and she knew I was home because the door was wide open and she kept screaming, Open the damn door! I know you're there! Come on!

Crouching in the kitchen, clutching my cordless phone, unsure of if I should be calling the police or my dad. She started rattling the door handle and banging on the door demanding to be let in. I kept an eye on the back door just in case she had come around because if she did, she would be able to see me. My hands were shaking so bad that I had trouble dialing my dad's work number. I told him what was going on through sobs and he came home. By the time he got there she was gone, I guess she had given up, but I was still crouched on the kitchen floor shaking and crying. After that she moved away and we never heard from her again. The people who moved in are super nice and not crazy at all.

I forgot to mention that at one point she started working at the grocery store I worked at in the same department but acted like she didn't even know me at first. Then when we were both outside at home she would ask me if I needed a ride and that she could take me whenever. My mom made me talk to management and get transferred. I also told them about her alcohol issues and she stopped showing up eventually. This took place back in the 90s so no one had a cell phone nor could we just look up police reports on the internet to see if the area we were going to was safe. At the time I was 14 and my parents had me in the scouts that were a part of my parents church group. Now people that know me

would probably find this laughable because I do not come across as someone who would have been in the scouts. To be honest I wasn't a very good one. I wasn't in it for merit badges or rank, but I loved camping and that's what came along with it. One camping weekend came up and we gathered together in a parking lot. There were 8 scouts, counting myself, and 3 adults that were going. I knew 2 of the adults and the other one was a new guy that was an Eagle Scout. All three were in the military at the time, though I couldn't tell what branch. Only one other guy was my age and

I didn't know him very well and I can't remember his name all these years later. All the other kids were a few years younger than us, 10 or 11 years old, and we didn't want to hang around them. So the other guy and I started talking while avoiding the others. Turned out this kid was a real piece of shit but I was stuck with either him or a group of pre-adolescents. We pack into a few vehicles and get to the campsite at a park. The park we were staying was just off a back road highway and at the entrance of the park there was a group of newspaper vending machines, a drink snack machine and a couple of pay phones. A couple of the fat kids started bouncing in their seats at the sight of the drink and snack machines.

I don't want to catch any of you near one of those, said one of the adults. I sat back and enjoyed the whining that ensued. I was a broke kid anyway, so I didn't care. We ended up parking a little ways down the road, not far from the park entrance, and walked up to the campsite. From where we were, we could still see the cars, but not the park entrance. We unpacked and gathered our tents together. There was a large eight-man tent where most of us were to sleep and a few smaller tents that a couple of the younger kids wanted to sleep in. After we put up the tents, the other kid my age and I began exploring.

We started to hike a few of the trails but they were overgrown. It seemed that they were rarely used and hadn't been cleared in a long time. Eventually we turned back and we were glad we did because when we got back it was time to start a campfire. Now I'm a little arsonist at heart. No, I'm not going to burn down houses or cars but when someone says campfire, look out. I was tearing through the woods looking for anything burnable. Twigs, fallen branches, small logs, absolutely anything. I had brought back a big pile of stuff before one of the adults looked at me and said, That's more than enough. There's no way we'll use all of that.

My dreams for a large fire were busted. One of the adults said he had to go home for a while and would be back later that night. We waved goodbye as he left. We carried on as it grew darker, told stories around the fire while cooking our various food goods. Eventually it grew late and we were all getting tired. We let the campfire die and buried it under a bunch of dirt. Then we all went to the tents and fell asleep in our sleeping bags. Clang. I heard it in my sleep. Clang, clang. Something metal was being beaten on. Clang, clang, clang.

I was awake but sleep refused to let me go. A collection of groans let me know that I wasn't the only one that heard it. Clang, clang, clang. It continued non-stop as I rolled over and tried to bury my head in the sleeping bag. I just wanted to go back to sleep. I don't know how long I laid there but the banging kept going. Eventually I got up and stuck my head out of the tent. There wasn't anything but darkness. I could tell that the sound was coming from the park entrance though. I nudged the adult I had just met that day and asked him what was going on and him being the adult, what he was

going to do about it. It's just the park rangers working on something. Go back to sleep, he told me before rolling away from me. I tried nudging him a few more times but all he did was grunt and call me a little annoying shit. I decided if I wasn't going to be able to sleep I might as well enjoy myself. So I walked over to where the campfire was and started digging. I found myself in luck and there were still some hot embers left. I used them to start a new fire. Actually, a much bigger fire. How big? The pile of wood that was told to me was too much. Well, I threw all of it on it when I got the fire started. Meanwhile, the banging had kept going.

Clang, clang, clang. After a while, nature began calling and I had to find a bush to pee on. I walked away for a few minutes, relieved myself, and turned around and started to walk back to the fire. Then I realized that the banging had stopped. I was kind of relieved that I could go back to sleep but now I had this big fire that I started. I then noticed someone with a flashlight down at the cars. At first I thought it was the other adult that said he'd be back later that night. But how come I didn't hear his car driving up or see his lights? I watched for a little bit

and realized this person was looking into the cars with their flashlight. I then heard rustling to the left of me. I was just far enough out of the campfire light that I hoped no one could see me. I pulled out my folding knife and squatted down. Somehow that knife didn't help calm me when someone came out of the woods and towards the fire. I figured this person had circled around our campsite through the woods from where our cars were. He began walking around the fire looking out. He began shining his flashlight around while avoiding to shine directly on the tents. My heart was in my throat as his light beam flashed over me a couple

of times as I squatted there behind some tall grass and bushes. After a while he left the same way he walked in. I waited for what seemed like a long time until I heard the banging again. Clang, clang, clang. I stood up slow. Someone was still standing in the road but further down and away from the vehicles. Clang, clang, clang. I kept going. I stood there watching the guy down the road. I wanted to run to the tents and wake someone up but I was afraid that there might be someone watching and waiting. After a while, the banging stopped again. The guy further down the road began walking back up towards the cars. I crouched back down in my spot in time when two guys came out of the woods to my left and into the now dying firelight.

They began walking towards the tents. I could feel myself wanting to scream for everyone to wake up, but it wasn't escaping my throat. Suddenly they stopped, turned, and walked away. The banging started again. The guy with the flashlight moved back down the road. I still didn't know if there was someone waiting and watching. All I knew is if the banging continued that they weren't coming up to the campsite. Eventually the banging stopped. I heard rustling to my left again but it sounded like someone was moving away. I stood up and I could no longer see the guy down the road with a flashlight. I stood there and waited. Summoning up my courage I ran to the tents and

violently shook an adult awake. Unfortunately it was the same new adult that I had met the day before. I began to try and tell him what had happened about the people. I was told that I was being annoying and must have dreamt it. I was mortified. I left and sulked while keeping a lookout. Dawn came and everyone got up. I tried talking to the other adults but the new adult would cut me off and began to chastise me for making up stories and lying. I was too exhausted to keep fighting with him. A few hours later the other adults who had left came back. He began asking if we heard anything last night.

The new adult said yes, he heard the park rangers doing some work last night. Well, it wasn't the park rangers. All the vending machines and pay phones were broken into. A cop came to talk to us and took our statements. He nonchalantly told us, Yeah, been some people robbing the machines after the bars let out. Y'all are lucky. Been several campers that have been attacked and robbed too. We never went camping in that area again. So this just happened today. Against my better judgment at the beginning of the month, I got Tinder.

I matched with a few guys, etc. One of them's name is James. We ended up texting each other and he seemed pretty chill and pretty into me. He's a decent looking guy and we seemed to click. He'd apparently been in a relatively abusive relationship with a woman and he was looking to start over. According to him she had hit him with a frying pan and pepper sprayed him once. He kept going on about how crazy she was. Alright I thought, it happens. We went out to the movies this past Friday and I had a great time. We ended up talking for a few hours and we hit it off pretty well. I asked about the ex because I

was a bit curious as to why he'd stay with someone like that. He didn't say anything positive about her, just that she was crazy, had mental illnesses and didn't take her meds. That kind of stuff. She had tried to baby trap him but she had a miscarriage. He expressed relief that she didn't end up with the kid. He said that he had felt obligated to her either way and again I get that. All in all I had a good time. This morning rolls around and he tells me that he had hooked up with his ex last night and that he was going to try to work things out with her mildly insulting that i'd lost out to an abusive chick but whatever i tell him it's cool he then a few hours later texted me to say that she was crazy and thought that she was changing but she wasn't. Blah blah blah I thought. He kept asking me if he could see me. He was being very pushy about wanting to see me today. He begged for five minutes of my time

so he could explain to me what had happened. I politely told him I didn't want to be involved with someone who was so clearly hung up on his ex and this is where it got nuts. He admitted he still was but that he wanted to see me today so I could meet her and she could determine if I was better for him than she was and that she wanted him to be happy because he and I had a connection. I flipped after that, told him that the fact he needed his ex to determine who was right for him was absolutely nuts and that this is not what love is and that I wanted no part of it. His ex started texting me after that and it was non-stop insults and incoherent shit that made no sense. She also dropped the bomb that she was his wife. I told her to fuck off basically and block the number. I went on tinder to message

him where I called him a piece of shit and if he was intelligent he should leave her and never message me again. He started to harass me saying that I was miserable because they have a beautiful love together and all this crazy shit. He then went on to say my wife knows where you work, I hope she doesn't do anything rash. And I told him that that was a threat and I would gladly go to the police. He then said that she'd been to jail before, she's not afraid, and that she loves him so much she'd fuck anyone up and risk jail for him, and that she'd kill my friends if they tried to protect me and that she's armed and dangerous. I told him goodbye, reported him and deleted my tinder account. I did go to the police tonight but

since it wasn't a direct threat they can't do much. The cop thinks that James was more or less full of shit and just trying to scare me since some people love getting off on that shit. He said I did the right thing by blocking and reporting him and said I should just keep my eyes open and alert the people at my job. Scary thing is, James seemed perfectly normal but he lied about being married, how he felt towards his wife and he flipped like a switch. His excuse for not being upfront about being married was that they were going to get a divorce. He seemed so docile and unassuming, and the hatred and aggressive attitude was insane. I have to honestly wonder what would have happened had I gone to talk for

five minutes. I'm kind of concerned that they do know where I work but if either of them try anything then the cops can actually nail them. Wow, what a weekend. So this guy has done a crazy good job of hiding this from the people in my town. But finally word is spreading. I don't know if you guys have heard of the band Get Scared, but this involves the vocalist Joel Favier. Joel was born in Lakeland, Florida and has always been a celebrity here. A few months ago I matched with him on Tinder and thought it'd be cool to talk about music and stuff. He was extremely persistent after that and always it'd be cool to talk about music and stuff. He was extremely persistent after that and always wanted me to come to his studio. Nothing creepy but I just got a

weird vibe from him so I always declined. Today my best friend calls me and tells me that Joel's been arrested for over 100 counts of child pornography and coercing a child to perform sexual acts most of the child porn they found was of infants and toddlers being sexually abused he paid bail and is currently posting on Twitter like it never happened it's disgusting and I hope he rots in prison. I grew up on an island in Alaska, and I lived on the same property since birth to high school graduation. Our house was two stories, and the downstairs had a bathroom, furnace room, storage room, entryway, and rec room. One of the walls had some plywood pieces up so we could feed extension cords through it to our crawl space. We had a

C-shaped driveway that you could enter from one side, then park in the carport, and then just drive forward to exit. The crawl space consisted of two big water tanks because we caught our own rainwater, and we would also use this area for storage. The space was 10 by 15 but only 3 feet high. You had to lift a cover up to get into the water tanks. You could only enter the crawl space from the side of the house. It was a 2 by 2 door that we kept a master lock on but never actually locked it. Our dog Brewster's area was on the side of the house as well. He had a big fenced area, his own stairway and porch which was half covered and he had a dog house.

Brewster was a Weimaraner chocolate lab mix who weighed 130 pounds. He was a fantastic dog who only barked when necessary. During the summer we had black bears in our yard most nights and Brewster would give a quick bark to get them on their way. We knew his barks. There are four of us in my family, my parents, myself and my older brother who is two years older and has Down syndrome. My brother was in special education at school and there were other kids who would come into the same room but just once in a while throughout the day because they had a similar disability and were able to keep up in some of the general classes but some of the kids had discipline problems or mental illness. My brother

was loved by the kids in school and everyone knew him. One day a native kid that was about 15 came to our door and wanted to play with Travis. We thought it was odd because Travis has moderate downs and he didn't really like playing with the other kids. He liked watching kids play though. Travis likes watching movies and listening to music usually by himself. My mom asked the kid what his name was and he said his name was Mark and he knew Travis from junior high the year prior because he could go into Travis's class sometimes for help with his schoolwork. I remember him staring at me a little too much and he didn't seem like someone who was mentally challenged. My mom let him come in but kept a

watchful eye on him. Travis seemed like he didn't want him there and my mom told Mark we were having dinner soon and told him it was time for him to go. My mom found out he had moved into the area where we lived but it was still a little ways away. He had been in and out of foster care most of his life. His parents were abusive addicts from what we heard. I think he came over another time and my mom felt bad for him but she felt something was off she felt like he was coming over because of me my mom politely told him that Travis didn't really like having visitors and he seemed okay with that and never came over again my parents went to a church service on Wednesday evenings and would be gone a couple of hours I would stay home with Travis at

the time I was 11 and he was 13. I started helping out in the church nursery when I was 9 and when I turned 11 my best friends and I took a babysitting course which included CPR and first aid. We would babysit together and at age 12 started babysitting on our own. My mom was a homemaker and was always home except for Wednesday church service. My parents didn't drink, do drugs or smoke. I can only remember my parents going out a few times where we actually needed a babysitter. I would leave the downstairs doors unlocked for my parents when they were only going to be gone a couple of hours. I was expecting them home in a half hour and was surprised when

I heard the downstairs door open and thought I must have not heard the car pull up and Travis was up past his bedtime so I quietly tell Travis to go to his bedroom and get into bed. I start walking through the kitchen to the top of the stairs and I call out, Mom? Dad? and I hear the footsteps stop and I'm looking down the stairs and I can see men's work boots and jeans this isn't my parents I thought the way the stairs were set up you could only see the bottom half of someone without descending the stairs I am scared to death and I run to Travis who was going down the hall and I grab him and drag him to my parents bedroom because it's the only room while I am grabbing a gun and trying to call my neighbor. I can hear him walking around downstairs still. My neighbor answers her phone immediately and I whisper someone's in my house. I'm scared. She told me to come out onto the front porch and

she'd be there. I get the courage and run to the door and get outside. Thankfully she's in our driveway and has her hound dog with her. She lets me know that she is going to enter the house through the downstairs. She disappears from sight but comes back quickly and tells me that the door is locked so she makes her way up the stairs. She gets to the top when we hear the downstairs door open and the crunching of gravel as the intruder is running off. She lets go of her dog's leash and the dog chased the person into the woods. The dog came back ten minutes later and her neighbor sat with us until my parents got home.

The police were never called because I think my parents assumed it was just a neighbor boy screwing with me. We lived in a safe place where the only thing you had to really worry about was bears and the occasional wolf. A week after this incident our dog would bark 15 minutes after we went to bed. Every night. We would look out the windows and never saw anything. We figured it was bears because it was springtime and Brewster was probably just getting used to them again. A couple of months the barking still happened. I had my best friend stay the night and we would always stay in the downstairs so we could be louder and stay up as late as we'd like. Kate had a brother that was seven years older and we asked if he would bring us some booze.

I knew we were young but that was the normal thing for our town. Kids started drinking, smoking and having sex in middle school because of boredom I think. We got 13 feet of rain a year so we would be inside a lot. It was a little after midnight and her brother never showed up and Brewster never barked that night either. We were sitting on the stairs braiding each other's hair and we both got a feeling like someone was looking at us and we looked over and the guy was staring into the window. We ran up the stairs in a panic. We thought maybe it was her older brother but he wouldn't have came to the window and spied on us and the face seemed too dark to be his. But we had the lights on in the downstairs and

there were no lights on by that window outside so it was hard to tell who it was. We didn't wake my parents just in case it was her brother. We waited 30 minutes and went back down to grab our stuff and went to sleep in my bedroom for the night. The next day we talked to her brother and it wasn't him. That night Brewster was back to barking again. Two more months go by and I had gone to bed and heard Brewster bark and I looked out my window and as usual didn't see anything. I just dozed back off and I woke up to Brewster barking frantically. I look out my window and I see a guy running out of our driveway. I thought about waking my parents but we had a trail on the side of our house that kids used to get to the road behind us. The neighborhood was on the side of a mountain

so all the kids used trails to go straight through to another road instead of using the main roads. I had never seen someone come out of that part of the driveway because the trail was on the south side of the house along with the crawl space and Brewster's area. My room was the only room on the north side. I decided to go back to sleep and I was tossing and turning. 15 minutes go by and I smell smoke. I go to the hall and the smell is a lot stronger and it's starting to get hazy in Travis' room which was directly across from mine. I scream, fire, fire, wake up! My parents are up and Travis doesn't want to get out of bed. But thank God for the strength of adrenaline.

We get outside and flames are pouring out of the crawlspace. We get Brewster out of his enclosure and the neighbors all come out to help us. The firemen were there rather quickly, but the fire had destroyed the crawlspace and my parents and Travis' bedrooms because they were directly over the crawlspace. The firemen got the fire out thankfully and nobody was physically hurt. This was one of the scariest nights of my life though. I will always remember the fire chief kneeling down to speak to me after he had talked to my parents and he said, Melinda, we believe it was arson. I looked at him with tears streaming down my face and I say in anger,

Who is Arson? Everyone started laughing so hard and I am thinking how is this funny? The damn Arson could have killed my family. So he explained what Arson was. I am still friends with the old fire chief's son and I share that story with him often because his father passed away from cancer when we were teens. His father is the only happy memory I have from that horrific night. The island I grew up on had a city and a village out south. We lived out south but just before the village. We had firemen for out south, north and the city. We had state troopers for the island

and city cops in the city limits. My mom took my brother and I to our family friend's house and my dad dealt with the fire officials and a state trooper showed up later. After the investigation, my family, neighbors, and firemen pieced together that a person had been living in our crawl space for at least four months and we knew that he set the house on fire on purpose. He used a box of matches. My mom said the first odd thing she noticed that night was the smell of sulfur. We also know who did it. It was Mark. His uncle was one of the firemen who first showed up at our house and saw him standing near our driveway watching my mom had told him my description of what the person was wearing that I saw

fleeing from her house and it was what he was wearing behind her house near the crawlspace area my dad found out where he had hung out when he wasn't in the crawlspace there was a bunch of cigarette butts cans of soda which were also found in the crawlspace. But because our crawlspace wasn't locked our insurance company wouldn't have paid for the repairs. Because of our water tanks the space was assumed to be locked so my parents never said anything to the police and the fireman never said anything. Unfortunately by pursuing this we could have not had a home, a house my father had built.

It took four months for a house to be repaired and it smelled like ozone even years later. What bothers me the most is knowing he had seen me and my friends undressed numerous times while changing in the rec room during tons of sleepovers. Where he had set up shop was right next to the plywood with the holes drilled through. He listened to all of our secrets. I never explained to my friends that he had seen us and heard us during our sleepovers because I didn't want them to feel sick to their stomachs like I did and still do. I still have issues when it comes to being home alone. I can't sleep if I am the only adult in the house. I keep the volume on everything very low. I can't sleep if I am the only adult in the house. I keep the volume on

everything very low. I'm scared to shower. I like to be able to see the front door. And I have night terrors to this day. I'm 34 now. I've been dealing with anxiety since the fire and panic attacks since I was 18. Just recently I was diagnosed with PTSD. When the intruder was in his early 20s he was caught for burning down a few houses and was put in jail. All of my toys were stored in that crawlspace along with a lot of this encounter by my mother. If she hadn't brought it up, I probably would have gone the rest of my life without thinking of this incident. But once I did, then all of these memories came flooding back. My family traveled from the Midwest to the East Coast almost

every year. We usually drove through Canada to New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, then up to Maine where my dad's family is from. We stopped at various tourist spots and resorts while on the trip. When I was somewhere around 6 or 7 years old, we were staying at a family style resort in New Hampshire. It was a very large complex with four buildings full of hotel rooms, all facing each other with a parking lot to the left, a small park picnicking area in the middle, and the outdoor pool with a fence around it to the right. Each building had two levels with outdoor stairs and each room had a door that went outside, not into a hallway. There was a path from the bottom of the stairs to the small park to the pool. I have always been quick to get ready so while my mom, dad and sister, one year older,

were getting ready to go to the pool, I was getting antsy and wanted to go and check out the tacky water slide tacked onto the side of the pool. I remember my dad being busy and distracted while I said, I'm going out to the pool, and began walking outside and down the stairs. You could see the park and pool from our balcony, but my dad wanted me to wait. I didn't wait and proceeded to walk by myself out to the pool. I was walking along the path through the little park when two big arms picked me up and started pulling me back. This is what I have the sharpest memory of, my purple jelly sandals being lifted off the ground under me. I didn't immediately turn around

because I just figured it was my dad dragging me back to the room, mad that I had disobeyed him. I just sighed and accepted my fate as being in trouble. Then I heard my dad in the distance yell, Hey! Get off my daughter! or something similar and so I finally turned to see who the hell was holding me. It was some guy, really tall, really thin, wearing dark colors. He had a car that was pulled up right to the park, not parked in a parking spot or anything, only about 20 feet away. I looked and saw my dad barreling down the motel stairs holding my sister's water noodle and wearing his bright green neon water shorts. This was probably 1996. The dude saw my dad, dropped me, and then dove into the car which promptly took off. I cried because I had scraped my leg in the fall.

My dad chased the car for a short while but they quickly picked up speed and were gone. I had no idea if the license plate was recorded or the cops were called. We did continue to go to the pool and play but I remember that my dad was in a rightfully bad mood the rest of the afternoon and I couldn't get him to play in the pool with me. He usually was a big reader but he just sat in his chair peering around the parking lot and looking miffed the rest of the afternoon. Who knows what would have happened if my dad had been walking out behind me or looking out the window. I was 19 years old. I had just lost my job managing a store in a local mall. This particular shop wasn't steady with an influx of business resulting in its closure. For the three years working there, I met many fellow managers and store owners.

There was one owner in particular, Tony, that left me with an unsettling feeling every time we crossed paths. Before I lost my job, he had the daily routine of spewing inappropriate sexual remarks about my body. Eventually needing a new employer, I ventured to our mall in hopes of finding one Tony stopped me in between filling out applications and offered a position repairing jewelry at a shop I've had difficulty in the past dealing with awkward situations saying no in particular I'd often use my beating around the bush antics, this instance not being an exception. With the inability to say fuck off, it led us into an uncomfortable conversation where Tony discussed topics ranging from friends, family, and somehow eventually to drugs. I suppose Tony figured

I'd dabbled in them before, as he spoke about the variety of shit he'd done back in the day he asked do you smoke weed I paused for a moment considered how I would answer but wound up blurting out of course Tony took my responses indication as it was okay to ask other personal questions do you have a boyfriend yes where do you live with my parents he declared himself one of the more well-known pot and coke dealers in our vicinity my facial expression had give me a fucking break blatantly written all over it but this didn't stop him from babbling away he abruptly pause mid-sentence, then spouts, Hey, you could move in with me.

I have a spare bedroom. I'd hook you up with any drug you want, no charge. Don't you have a wife? Oh, the woman you've seen around is just my assistant. Yeah, okay. I noticed he and his assistant wearing matching wedding bands throughout the years. I'm not sure how I feel about that, but I'll let you know. My ride's here. Why didn't I just say no? I left him with a glimmer of hope. Stupid.

Basically sprinting through the mall, I made a quick glance behind me and realized Tony closed his shop for the day. Almost immediately after leaving, an influx of private calls came in, followed by one single text message. It's Tony. I need to know if you plan on moving in so I can kick my roommate out. Repulsed, it dawned on me that I never gave him my number. I never filled out an application for employment either. He had absolutely no way of getting this information. I didn't respond, thinking it would be enough of a hint that I wasn't interested. After several days, Tony hadn't even crossed my mind.

I foolishly swept him under the rug and moved on until some random Thursday. Knock, knock, knock. Inaudible voices. I know what you really want, motherfucker. Lillian, get the fuck out here now. I ran as quickly as I could into our living room. My father began scowling, asking if I knew a 50-something year old named Tony because he had just came looking for me. Trying to explain the situation leading up to that point, his anger towards me shifted into fear for my safety. It was apparent that Tony had followed me, likely the day he had made his offer, and now at least someone other than myself was aware of him. One early morning I was given a ride home by my boyfriend before he headed to a job site

and while exiting his vehicle I noticed every car parked in the driveway had their windows smashed. Every. Single. Window. Finally we involved the police. I didn't know any information outside of where Tony worked so officers made their way to the mall. Of course he had conveniently taken off that day but his assistant was available for questioning instead. Obviously Tony's claims of being a notorious drug dealer were false and his assistant was actually his wife. I assume he had planned to kick her out and attempted to move me in as her replacement. Six years later, I have no solid indication that Tony was responsible for the damaged windows, although it's unlikely a coincidence. Police never arrested him due to lack of evidence.

Even after what happened, I continued on my quest to find work at the mall. It wasn't long until Tony found me, but before I could mutter a single word, he screamed, She was only my assistant! I slowly backed up, turned around and bolted to an exit. I'm still unsure why, of all the things he could have said, that was what he chose. My search for employment was taken elsewhere and I have since learned

how to say no. So the other day I swiped this pretty cool dude on Tinder named Gabe. He adds me on Snapchat. We start talking a little bit. He decides to come pick me up and come smoke for a bit. I'm like cool yeah whatever. In the bay area smoking and driving is technically a date. But as soon as I get in the car, I get a really weird vibe.

I don't know. His smile was way too wide or something, and he stared at me without blinking, just slightly long enough to make me uncomfortable. Also, he wouldn't tell me anything about himself. He just kept saying, Oh, I make money doing this and that whatever i can and he would refer to all females as bitches major red flag after a couple blunts i'm starting to get tired and i'm like so you want to drive me home and he goes yeah sure i just gotta stop by the grocery store for a few things. And I'm like, uh, okay, yeah. So we go to the grocery store by my house because we're still in my neighborhood.

By this time it's pretty dark but there are some lights on in the parking lot. After about five minutes of sitting there while he's typing on his phone, I get kinda curious and look at the reflection of the driver's side window to see if I can read his texts. I could. It read, yeah I got her, sitting in Lucky's parking lot. I immediately went numb from head to toe. I decided I had to do something fast because I don't know who he's texting or why he's telling them where we are. I start to notice things like even though there's people near us they're still kind of far away about 25 to 30 feet and I almost started to panic.

He didn't notice anything though so I asked aren't you gonna go outside and he goes yeah just a sec I'm making a list of all the stuff I need. I almost shit my pants. I could obviously see the texting app still open in the reflection on the window. He was lying. I immediately grabbed my bag and bolted out of the car and started walking toward the grocery store, almost running. He was like, hey, what the fuck? Where the hell are you going? And tried to grab my bag, but I had just made a direct beeline for the lighted entrance of the store. I made it into the store and looked out the window to see him driving around the parking lot, talking on the phone, waving his hands around. Seconds later, he peeled out of the parking lot and almost hit another car.

I called my mom to have her come pick me up and when I got home he had unmatched me from Tinder and blocked me on Snapchat without saying anything. I'm not sure what your plan was, Gabe, but I'm also glad I never found out. Let's not meet ever again and frankly, I'm probably done dating, too. I'm a supervisor of the 24-7 emergency hotline operated by a non-profit,

which focuses on assisting local women within our city limits who have just experienced domestic violence within the last 72 hours and are now in emergency situations. As the supervisor, I authorize all cabs, lock changes, and place people in shelters and hotels depending on what the hotline workers determine someone might need. My two co-supervisors and I are also the only people who are authorized to meet with people outside of the organization's regular walk-in business hours. We go to the police stations, hospitals, and the like to meet with victims and provide them with temporary assistance. We, and our bosses higher up, are also the only people in the organization authorized to contact the police. If a client needs police or wants to file a report and wants us to do it, the hotline worker

they're speaking to has to go through a supervisor and we have to dispatch 911 or the local police precinct directly. Until I get dispatched, I work remotely from home because I typically work both nights and days during the same week. It allows me the opportunity to sleep at night unless I'm called by a hotline worker or dispatched, which is necessary for the nature of the work. Because of this, I have a satellite internet phone in my apartment that can connect in to a hotline workers extension. They can use it to phone me for help when there's someone who pulls a I need to speak to the manager so I can connect into the call and stuff like that. I also have my cell phone available but staff typically only use it for emergencies or when I'm out on dispatch. I've been here for about five years and I've never had anything too crazy happen. Sure people are murdered. Someone was

assaulted with an air conditioner unit one time. There was a lady who was 28 and had 11 kids. But outside of things that are generally depressing, there's never been anything outside of this incident that's truly rattled me. It was approximately noon on a Monday, but it was a holiday so the office was closed except for the hotline which works non-stop 365 days a year. I was walking home from 7-11 with gummy bears and a slurpee when the hotline called my cell phone. It was Alex, a long time worker who honestly was probably old enough to be my mom and she sounded panicked. She straight up told me to get the fuck home ASAP and dial into her extension that it was a legit emergency she was going to keep the woman on the phone as long as she could. If it was anyone else other than a hotline veteran

or honestly Alex I probably would have been like yeah yeah whatever, welcome to the job, so what's going on here? But Alex is a badass boss lady with a neck tattoo who once almost got sexually assaulted but didn't because she kicked the dude in the nuts and asked him who the hell he thought he was. Anyways, so I have never heard her sound like that before. I didn't ask any questions, I just freaked out and I literally ran the two blocks home then up the stairs to my apartment. I picked up the phone, chugged some slurpees so I wouldn't sound horribly out of breath and dialed in the extension Alex specified. Hello, my name is Nicole, I'm the supervisor today, how can I help you?

I just heard static and screaming on the other end of the line. Not like any angry client with a cheap phone on the subway, but someone being tortured type of screaming, and I had no idea at first what the static was. I was so taken aback I didn't even immediately process what exactly was going on, but I realized she was saying you need to help over and over and various wordings and the static was wind it was not windy outside and this lady was breathing heavily so she was either having a panic attack or she was

running okay ma'am I'd like to help you. Where are you right now? I said through my inner fear, which I had become a pro at hiding on the phone. I decided to also bypass the typical questions of do you feel safe, what's going on today, etc. Clearly some shit was going down, and we needed to help this lady escape whatever and get to a police station. I'm not even going to bullshit a quote because I was internally shitting myself so badly. But she said she was in Biloxi, Mississippi running through a park she didn't know. Nothing looked familiar. She had been in the back of a work van and she didn't know what was happening or where she was.

For reference, we're in New York City and the phone she called from was a local area code. I wasted no time conferencing in 911. Wasted no time. Alex was silent and I kept trying to talk to the woman while the phone rang on the call and we waited for the dispatcher. I asked what she was wearing she said jeans and a black shirt and a pink coat she said her name was Lizzie and she was 23 she didn't seem lucid though and I asked her questions about what day it was and she was off by about a month I asked her about landmarks trying to figure out where she was. All she could tell me again was a park and a highway and the last street she remembers was named after some sort of nut.

Pecan? Peanut? Macadamia? Alex jumped in and we started listing types of nuts and it got weird. Turns out she said it was walnut. We still had no idea where this was. We didn't know if it was NYC, Mississippi. We didn't know what was going on. She kept saying she needed us to come get her and she didn't have time. She said she was going to be murdered but when we tried to ask her more about this like who, what, where, with, what, she didn't respond and just kept saying she needed help. I would have sent a cab for her in a heartbeat but I had no idea where to send it. The 911 dispatcher who answered flipped out, said she was brand new, put us on hold and said she was going to get somebody. Cool, thanks bitch, appreciate it. Alex started trying with google maps trying to find the place in or around Biloxi

and I went looking around the city for it. We clearly did not find it with that limited information and in that short of a time. The 911 dispatcher finally connected and tried to speak with her. They didn't get anything either. Alex ultimately told the woman from 911 to shut the fuck up because we didn't have time for her to get up to speed and she was asking things we already had asked and there was no time to waste. We heard one loud piercing scream, a thud that sounded oddly crunchy, and the line cut out.

I sat there, Alex sat there, the 911 dispatcherer sat there it was the definition of awkward silence long story short we never found out what was going on who it was or where they were Alex said before I got on the line Lizzie said she was being chased or escaped from somewhere and thought someone was chasing her and she was running. The 911 dispatcher said they couldn't trace the phone because we were the ones who called, so the satellite it pinged off of as originating from was my apartment and she was definitely not my neighbor. When we connected with police, all they could tell us about the originating number was that it was a disposable phone and not registered to anyone. I have a lot of experience on the hotline and I've learned to trust my gut about people

and situations. I got bad, bad vibes off of whatever this was and it was in no way a fake call. Our number isn't publicly listed so so you can't Google it. You have to be referred to us by a core service agency such as Child and Family Services, Department of Health, a hospital, the police, etc. So we rarely, rarely ever get prank calls, and we've never gotten a sicko trying to fake something like this. The worst we've ever gotten since I've been here is homeless people sometimes trying to get shelter.

Alex and I both swear whatever it was, it was real, and it still doesn't sit right with either of us. To be continued... 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.com. And check out the Let's Read podcast where you can hear all these stories in long compilation form and save huge on data located anywhere you listen to podcasts. Links in the bio. Thanks so much, friends, and I'll see you again soon.