The Lets Read Podcast - 78: Episode 069 | Stalkers & Sinister Trap Stories | 22 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: August 24, 2020

Welcome to the sixty-ninth 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 Stalkers, Sinister Traps, & Paranormal Investigations... HAVE A STORY TO SUBMIT?► www.Reddit.com/r/LetsReadOfficial FOLLOW ME ON - ► Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsread.official/ ► Twitter - https://twitter.com/LetsReadCreepy ►YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/c/letsreadofficial ♫ Background Music: Iron Cthulhu Apocalypse https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFvrqVSJE8E PATREON for EARLY ACCESS!►http://patreon.com/LetsRead  Update Description

Everyone's got a pro. Need tires? I've got a pro. Car making a weird sound? I've got a pro. So who's that pro? The pros at Tread Experts. From tires to auto repair, Tread Experts is always there, helping you with Kumo tires you can trust. Until June 15th, receive up to $60 on a prepaid MasterCard when you purchase Kumo RoadVenture AT52 tires. Find your pro at your local tread experts. Conquer rugged terrain with on-road comfort until June 15th, receive up to $60 on a prepaid MasterCard when you purchase Kumho RoadVenture AT52 tires. Find a Kumho TreadExperts dealer near you at treadexperts.ca slash locations. From tires to auto repair, we're always there. TreadExperts.ca I've been saving this story for a special occasion, and today I received some awesome news that would definitely apply. The man that stalked me for over two years has just been denied parole and I couldn't be happier. What follows is a very condensed version of the hell he put me through during those years.

My marriage had recently fallen apart after four years and I moved to a new town to make a fresh start. I quickly found a job tending bar at one of the many dive bars around town. The customer pool covered a wider range of folks. Everything from college students to bikers filled the rosters of regulars. Within my first month, I'd made friends with a very nice couple. They ran an area horse rescue service from their ranch. I had mentioned a desire to learn how to ride a horse and the wife offered her services. We got along well and sometimes spent girls nights out hopping bar to bar flirting with men. On an especially wild night she introduced

me to an ex-employee of hers. He and I spent the night together and that was where it should have ended. I was able to easily move on with my life but he would not be. Three times in the following weeks I received roses from a secret admirer. What was at first a romantic gesture would soon turn horribly sour when I was contacted by my admirer. After being asked if I had gotten my roses and telling him yes, he informed me that since he'd spent so much money on flowers for me, I was expected to repay him. I was shocked when he said this. I had initially been a little wooed by the flowers. If he'd asked nicely, he may have gotten a date out of it. What happened during the course of that date could have went anywhere but the fact that he

expected intimacy because he'd spent money on me like I was some sort of street walker made me disgusted. I didn't hesitate to tell him so. His opinion was that I was a tease and had been leading him on. However, considering I'd not seen or spoken to him in weeks I still don't see how he got that idea. Once I told him to F off and hung up the phone. I never expected to hear from him again but I was terribly wrong. A week or two later I was out on a girls night with my friend and we ran into him. He was drunk as a skunk and must have thought I'd forgotten what he'd said to me. I hadn't of course and told him off to his face. All this did was make him more aggressive and after he grabbed my butt I told one of the

bouncers I knew and he kicked him out immediately. I could hear him cursing me his whole way out the door. I had luckily thought ahead and asked the same bouncer to walk us to my car when we left the bar a little while later. I had been suspicious that he may have us to my car when we left the bar a little while later. I had been suspicious that he may have been waiting for us when we left, and it turned out to be right. As we approached my car, I saw him waiting for me. My bouncer friend knocked him around some, and this gave us enough time to get away. My friend told me later on that night why her and her husband had to fire him. Apparently he would show up to work drunk sometimes and come on to her and give her husband an attitude. Once he'd done this the third time they had had enough and cut him loose. Now all the trouble I was having seemed to make a lot more sense. As we moved forward through the

next year I had several encounters with him around town. One particular rough instance was when he showed up at my house slobbering drunk and crying for me to take him back. I tried to explain to him that we had never been together in the first place. No one I know would think of a one night stand as a relationship but he must have. I had to call the cops to get him to leave but I had no idea it would get much worse. I had been doing my best to avoid running into him and I know for sure it had to have been almost two months since I'd seen or heard from him. My new boyfriend and I had about six months together and we were hanging around my place watching TV or something.

We'd been out to dinner earlier that night and had only been back about an hour when a loud banging started at the front door. It only took a few bangs before it flew open, taking the frame with it. We'd both been caught off guard and were standing in the open like dummies when the culprit entered the house. It was my stalker and he was drunk, but he was also armed with a pistol. The moment he saw my boyfriend, he started shooting. My boyfriend knew it was coming and had began running when he was hit by the first shot. I'm not sure what had happened after that first shot because I started running too. By the time I made it to the bathroom and locked the door, I had counted at least three more shots.

Since I was almost positive that my boyfriend was dead dead I was going to do my best to survive. Just by chance I had my phone in my back pocket. I was dialing 911 even before I'd locked the door. Even while I was speaking to the operator I could hear him yelling curses at me in a slurred voice. I figured he'd started shooting through the door any second so I laid down in the bathtub making myself as flat as possible. I can't remember exactly what she was saying to me when the shots began. I was so terrified by this point I couldn't help but scream. The shooting seemed to go on forever before it stopped. It couldn't have been more than another 30 seconds before I finally

heard the policeman yelling at him to drop his gun. Honestly, I wish he hadn't, but he must have had a small shred of sense left. It wasn't much longer until an officer knocked on the door and told me I could come out, and the paramedics were already working on my boyfriend. Miraculously, he wasn't just still alive but he was conscious in talking to them. It looked like the dumb SOB was so drunk he missed all of his vital organs, only managing to hit him twice. They had already taken him away before I exited the bathroom and I didn't see him again until the trial. It wasn't a long procedure. Once I testified, his lawyer stopped the trial and announced he was going to take the plea deal he was being offered.

He'd had several prior offenses, so the 10 to 25 year sentence was getting off light. My boyfriend and I celebrated the good news by getting married and we've been together for 12 years this May. Since his first parole hearing has went so well and we shouldn't have to worry about him getting out for another two or so years, I think we're taking an extended vacation to celebrate this time. Wish us luck for the future. I had an unbelievable thing happen to me last year. It was just another run-of-the-mill school year. I was going into my last two semesters before graduation and had my mind focused on my life after school. I guess this is the reason I didn't pick up on what was going on around me for a long while. On an early morning trip into town, not long before the end of the

first term, I made a stop to retrieve my shoes from the repair shop. I didn't pay much attention to any of the other shoppers. I paid for and got my shoes and went on with my shopping. While I was heading toward the used bookstore, I just happened to notice a young blonde man walking down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. I wasn't sure why he caught my attention, but there was something about him that seemed familiar. Shaking the idea from my mind, I continued on my journey. The selection at the store was lacking, so after browsing a couple of minutes I headed back to campus strangely I noticed the blonde man standing outside a gas station drinking a soda what was

most likely a coincidence just another human going about their daily life made a mark on my mind once more I laughed off my odd feelings and headed home my house was a small two-bedroom home nestled across from the school. It was in no way odd to see the same students coming and going from class every day. It was, however, more than odd to see the blonde man sitting on the steps of the school that same afternoon. I had been back from my errand several hours and just happened to glance out of my living room window when I noticed him. This coincidence was now starting to become concerning. A third attempt to ignore the situation growing before me had collapsed. Yes, he could have just been another student like myself going about his day, but seeing him so many times in one day when I couldn't

remember seeing him ever before then was causing me to be somewhat worried. Since he wasn't posing any danger to me sitting across the street, I forced myself to forget him and go back to my chores. Later on when I looked across to the school and noticed his absence, I realized how paranoid I was being and finally put the blonde man out of my mind. His presence wouldn't return until that Monday. I had been walking to class and noticed him again, this time sitting with a group of a few other males talking to each other. After standing for a moment watching him to

see if he looked over to me and never seeing him doing so, I went on to my next class. Even though my focus was important to the class, I couldn't think of anything else but that man. The chance that I was being followed struck me as hilarious at that time. For some unknown reason, the man and I just happened to be in the same place at the same time. This was the only conclusion I could accept, and until the end of the term, a few weeks later, it remained the most logical reason available. During the holiday break one evening, myself and a few other girls were hanging around at my house. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a person sitting across the street on the school steps. To my shock, it was the blonde man.

This was the first time I would be unable to retreat to a place of justification in my mind. The school was closed for the break, as were the dorms. No logical excuse for his presence existed. Just to make sure I wasn't losing my mind and seeing someone who wasn't there, I asked one of the girls to come to the window. I asked her if she knew who he was or if she had a name, but she claimed to have never seen him before. She must have seen the concern on my face because she asked me if I was okay. Thinking weakly on my feet, I changed the subject.

At this point, I was unsure if my growing fear was justified, and I didn't want to drag someone else into a possibly embarrassing situation. We went back to our other friends and enjoyed the evening festivities but all along the unknown blonde man lurked in the back of my mind. Things would go back to normal somewhat until the weeks following the new year when an already strange situation would become an outright farce. On an ordinary Monday morning I was preparing myself for class when I heard a shuffling on my front porch. Acting before I thought, I threw

open the door just in time to see the backside of a blonde haired male running away from my house. I hadn't even had a moment to process what I was seeing when I witnessed the individual being struck down in traffic. The car that hit him had been going over 50 miles an hour and he was supposedly killed on impact. For his sake, I hoped this was true. The moment police became involved, I had to make the decision as to whether I would mention all the strange things that had occurred leading up to this. Considering I, myself, was unsure about what had been happening, I made the choice to say as little as possible. I simply told them that I saw the man running across the street and get hit. Involving myself any further didn't seem right. After all, I still had no proof that the man was stalking me. Smearing the name of a man I didn't know struck me as a bridge too far.

The following afternoon I made a discovery that would finally put all my doubts to rest forever. Mixed in with the rest of my regular mail was an unmarked, folded piece of white paper. Reading it would provide me with many a sleepless night it simply stated i see you every day and i know you see me why do you ignore me there was no way i could deny what was happening now the question still remained as to why i was chosen to be the target of his obsession that answer wouldn't be discovered until the end of the semester. A group of students and I were sitting together and discussing our time in the university when one of the girls, a small and quiet engineering major, mentioned how unfortunate it was that Mark didn't make it the last few months to graduation. What she said next would show me just how self-centered I had become over the last four years. I don't know if you knew it, Lindsay, but he had a major crush on you.

You were all he talked about. Isn't it so crazy that the place he was hit wasn't 25 yards from your house? I felt like I had been hit by a truck myself and was unable to speak at first. Yeah, that's crazy. Life is strange like that. I felt like I had been hit by a truck and was unable to speak at first. Yeah, that's crazy. Life is strange like that.

This was all I could think to say. Having all this information dumped on my lap so quickly had left me dumbfounded. I excused myself from the group and ran full speed back to my house, locking the door behind me. Her words had brought back a flood of memories I wasn't aware of even existed. I had in fact known the blonde man. He had been in my very first class at the university and been a very kind and friendly person towards me. He had helped me a lot with class work. However, once I had made it into my sorority, my entire group of friends, including the boys I spoke to and dated, changed

drastically. When the class was over, I moved on and left him in the past. We most likely hadn't spoken since my freshman year. While I'm not sure if my gradual indifferent behavior toward him caused an innocent crush to degrade into a helpless obsession or a kind and loving young man was simply attempting to reconnect with a former friend, I've become well aware of how easy it can be to move forward in life and leave those most important to you behind. Not just in life, but also memory. I feel the need to share a story written from a viewpoint I don't often see here, that of a stalker himself. While I in no way want to give the impression that I believe my actions were in any way excusable, I think it's important for people to know how easily a shy young man's

crush can explode into a full-bore obsession and the precise events that caused this to happen, at least in my case. Although now, ten years later after the fact, I am well aware of the terrible things I was doing and thinking, but I want everyone who may hear or read this to know not all those who become stalkers are terrible people. They are simply lost. However, it is ultimately up to them whether they step out from the darkness in time to realize this is where they are dwelling. Please give me a little of your time to explain how badly I strayed and what it took for me to return to my former path. If I'm going to tell this tale properly, I should probably tell you about myself and the person I once was. My early childhood had been

a happy one as far as I can recall. Nothing really bad started until I began adolescence and my cute freckles were replaced almost completely by severe acne. With the acne came the seemingly unending bullying and mockery. At that age, no girl, regardless of her heart, wants to be seen with a school pizza face and he knows this very well. The treatment I would receive for many years following caused me to become a far more introverted and angry young man where I was once a shy but kind child. My only option at the time appeared to be keeping my head down and trying to make it through each day. Unfortunately this was rarely the way things panned out. Any kid who was bullied as badly as I was could tell you this is often the way their

day to day life was. It would turn out that as I entered my first year of college, no matter how bitter and jaded I had become, my heart made a choice my mind certainly never would have. I want to stress that although my years at the university were far less offensive, the damage to my self-esteem had already been done. Despite this, I met a girl that stole my heart right away. The iciness of her light blue eyes and smooth porcelain skin were of a beauty I had never beheld and still have not to this day. We had two classes together that first year and I didn't learn a thing. Every bit of focus was on her and before long she became involved in every thought of my day and often

even in my sleep. I would spend my free time beating myself up, telling myself that even if she treated me nicely, she would never want to be with me. My fears were made fact when I finally summed up the courage to ask her on a date. There was a dance being held for freshmen and I had overheard her saying she hadn't been asked to accompany anyone yet. Some foolish notion I had conjured up told me that this was my chance to be with her. The next day between classes I caught up to her and popped the question. The way in which she shot me down hurt me far more than I expected. At that time she was walking with a couple of other girls. Their laughing at my question cut me deeply and when she suggested I ask someone else

and that she would rather just be friends well I'll just say that her words cut me deeply that night as I sat in the dark in my dorm room I cried and cursed myself for being so foolish and cursed her even more now I think back that night, it was where my obsession with her morphed from what I believed to be love into the early phases of hate. No matter how much I would tell myself that I hated her for what she had done, I knew I still would do anything to be with her, if even just for a moment. From that night on and for a long time after, I would rant to any one of my few friends that would listen about how evil and bad females were, while at the same time, I would follow her my emotions to drive my actions. Soon, just looking upon her wasn't enough, and I'd taken a step in a very scary direction. One afternoon, I found myself alone, in her dorm room.

I'd managed to sneak in while everyone was gone to class, and because I'd made myself well-versed in her and her roommate's coming and goings, I knew I had a good hour to myself. For several minutes, I simply sat in her bed, taking in her surroundings and inhaling her wonderful scent on her sheets. Then I moved on to her drawers, pulling each one out in turn and burying my face in the clothing. Time flew by, and when my time was up, I quietly slipped out unseen. A few weeks after that, I took things even further and snuck in while she slept. The sick feeling of nervousness sat heavily in the pit of my stomach as the excitement of it all

caused my heart to pound. I sat carefully onto her roommate's bed who was out that night and stared at her beautiful body. Her sleep was fit full and the covers exposed her smooth soft legs and backside. When I saw this my heart pounded faster and faster. Terrible thoughts raced through my mind but I grabbed control of myself and fled from the room before I leapt onto her. I quickly found myself becoming terrified of what I may do to her if I was alone with her again. Many days of battling the monster growing inside me forced to make an important decision that would affect my future. One early morning I forced myself to go to the college mental health clinic and confess what I had been doing. At least twice I began to turn the doorknob and then stopped.

The third time, I succeeded. For the next year or more, I would first attend an inpatient facility and then continue to see a shrink once a week. It took quite a while, but with a combination of time separation and counseling I was able to learn how to deal with my insecurities and obsessions 10 years have passed since that early morning and I'm proud of how far I've made it obviously I never returned to the college and that night in her room was the last time I saw her while I may still at times find myself thinking back to that time, I no longer feel any draw to her. I'm not sure if she ever knew the danger she was in, but I hope she is doing well and is happy. I've bounced from job to job for some time until I was lucky enough to

befriend a man that gave me a job doing IT at a small company. Come this September, I'll be there six years and I'm doing very well. As a matter of fact, I was even able to meet a girl the normal way and get married. We're awaiting the arrival of our first child in the new year and I couldn't be any happier. Looking back at the time and recounting such a terrible period here, I was, at first, unaware of exactly why I was sharing it with you and your listeners. Now that I've had some time to dwell upon it, I guess my goal is twofold. First, I want to give everyone present an idea of how someone can become an obsessed stalker, at least in my case and how easy it is. Secondly, and most importantly, I want anyone who's reading or hearing this to know that you don't have to listen to what your obsessive mind

is telling you. You can prevent yourself from doing something unspeakable and going past an unreturnable line. Not every stalker is a truly evil person. They may have simply lost their way and need a little help returning to the proper path. If you see yourself in the past version of me, don't be afraid to get help. All you have to do is ask. My parents had a wonderful and happy marriage and because of this, my younger days were great. That all changed, however, when my father was KIA in Iraq in 2005. Since my folks had been high school sweethearts at 16, his loss hit my mom very hard. For a long time she spent most of her days and nights in bed.

Luckily I was already approaching 14 and capable of taking care of myself. Not one second did I hold her reaction against her. We all deal with the death of a loved one in our own way. Her long days in bed would end about nine months after my dad's death when a friend of my mom convinced her to go out with her to her favorite bar. That day would lead to a long hard road in which she would almost lose her life and both of our lives would be forever altered. Within a week my mom would bring home her first boyfriend. He would become the first of many men she would pair with large amounts of alcohol in a vain attempt to kill the pain of my dad's loss.

Over time her personality would change drastically. She became far harder and I can't think of one time in which I remember her smiling. Then the day I feared would come arrived. My mom moved in one of the boyfriends. Daryl was a lowlife that worked days at a motorcycle repair place and spent his nights drinking as much as possible. For whatever reason mom thought he'd be great marrying material. I guess alcohol does destroy brain cells, just like they say. Anyhow, they got hitched a few months after he moved in and that's about the time everything started to fall apart. Daryl would show his true self within a week of the marriage. He and mom stumbled in one night

from some bar and began arguing. She said something that made him mad and he backhanded her across the face. Rather than destroy him that second, she would apologize to him after sobering up the next morning. This was just the reaction he must have been hoping for. The abuse would escalate from that point and it became normal to see mom with a black eye or split lip. Despite my begging, she wouldn't get rid of him. I heard the same excuses over and over. He's only mean when he's drunk, and I push him too far when I am. In the end, it's my fault. I eventually gave up and began focusing on saving enough money to get out of the house. Luckily, Daryl ignored me for the most part. He'd said many times that he'd had no interest in being

a parent to me and that was just the way I liked it. Ultimately, the logical result occurred the year after I'd moved out. Daryl and mom had one of their usual arguments and this time, he almost took it too far. I would get a call one day at work from the hospital saying my mom had been in a terrible accident. Only when I got there did I find out it was far from an accident. Daryl had beaten mom so badly that she had died once in the ambulance. A noise complaint from the neighbors was the only thing that saved her. That incident was the one that finally got her to leave him and with Daryl out of the picture,

I moved back in with mom to help her with the bills. Things were a little rough while mom healed. Daryl did try to get her to come back to him through text but she managed to stand fast. Just as it was starting to look as if though she was going to be back on her feet without him he caught her in a moment of weakness and convinced her to come over just to talk. On her way over she did the one smart thing that would save her life. That night I was working and received a text from her saying she was heading over to the old house, the one that Daryl was living in. It was clear to me this was a bad idea.

Once I managed to fill my boss in on the situation I raced over to stop her. She was already there when I pulled up outside. As soon as I turned off my engine I could hear people yelling at each other. I rushed into the house in time to witness my mom jump on Daryl's back. She was punching him on his head and when he turned around to pull her off I noticed a big bruise on her face and a bloody lip. It wasn't hard for him to throw her off. She was lying on the floor yelling curses at him. Each word she said was slurred and this was when I realized she was drunk. Neither of them noticed me at first.

They continued yelling at each other. As this happened, I watched Daryl reach into a drawer and pull out a pistol. He fiddled with it for a second and then pointed it at my mom. In her state she foolishly laughed at him and said that he didn't have the spine to shoot her. A few seconds later he fired the first shot. The shock of seeing this caused him to scream out and this was when he finally realized I was there. When he saw me he grinned and aimed the gun back at my mom. There was no way I could let him shoot her again so I charged and tackled him. As we fell a second shot went off barely missing her. Fortunately he was so drunk he had dropped the gun but once he located it began crawling over to get it. I knew when he

had it he'd shoot me next. Out of nowhere I yelled out that I'd called the cops and that they were on their way. This was a lie of course. When he heard this he stopped and stared at me trying to see if I was telling the truth. I put on my best serious face and it must have worked. He reached down and grabbed the gun and helped himself to his feet. I winced when he stood up but instead of shooting me he turned around and stumbled out the front door. I quickly crawled over to my mom. Miraculously she was still breathing however she was bleeding heavily. Dialing 911 I was told by the dispatcher that someone had already called and gunshots and the officers were on their way. No more than three minutes later they showed up with the paramedics right behind them. They rushed her to the hospital and after

a long surgery she survived. Daryl being drunk was probably the thing that saved her life. At the distance she was he could have easily blown her brains out. When it comes to Daryl being drunk was probably the thing that saved her life. At the distance she was, he could have easily blown her brains out. When it comes to Daryl, however, he wasn't quite as lucky. The police caught up with him on his motorcycle a few miles from the house. After repeated demands that he drop his gun, he raised it and they emptied their guns into him. The moment I was told was like a load of bricks had been lifted from my shoulders and I relaxed the first time I had in a long time. I can't pretend that his death made me sad because honestly, I'm glad he's gone. Our life had been a nightmare since he

came into it. Once mom had recuperated, my parents and I convinced her to enter alcohol treatment. It went very well and she's been sober almost two years as of me writing this. Last month was the first time we visited my dad's grave since the funeral and despite it being a sad day I think it is a good first step in my mom's grieving process. A process I don't think she's ever managed to complete. However, I believe with a lot of help from myself and the rest of the family, she will be able to finally deal with his loss and learn how to handle it without the booze.

I'm a 21 year old female and at the time of this story I was 19 and had just started a new job at a Greek restaurant in my town. I had also just found out I was 6 weeks pregnant and still in the process of comprehending this but ended up losing the pregnancy about 2 weeks after the incident. So needless to say, I was a freaking wreck emotionally already. This new job meant basically waiting tables for about six to ten hours a day, and for anyone who has ever experienced morning sickness knows that it does not just strike in the morning. So I was pretty nauseated most of the day and exhausted which meant I wasn't exactly the most alert I was incredibly tired all the time but I tried my best to still appear alert and focused I woke up bright and early and put on a long sleeve button-down black slacks and no slip shoes on my first day at this new job I was immediately walked through and introduced to all the other employees. One person in particular stood out immediately. He was probably in his mid-forties to early fifties,

overweight, dark, unkempt hair and beard and glasses and no smile. He stared like he was trying to direct me with his eyes and seemed to be analyzing every part of me. To this day, it is still something that can send a chill down my spine. I think it is also worth mentioning that because I look younger than I am when I'm not wearing makeup I was continually being asked what high school I went to. Most of them assumed I was 16 years old and I had never been formally introduced to this guy or even learned his name so as far as he knew I was 16 years old. I didn't see the point in correcting them since I was pretty used to being mistaken for younger when my arms

are covered. Throughout my entire shift I could feel eyes on me no matter where I went in the restaurant and over time I would turn to the kitchen and see his cold unmoving deadpan expression locked on me like a heat-seeking missile. For the most part, on the first day, this is all he did. Aside from that, he left me alone, but for me, it was already enough to put me on edge. I would also catch moments where he and my manager would be speaking with one another, look over at me, then speak again. At first I thought, okay this is just the hormones, I'm probably being crazy. Then towards the end of my shift I let my manager know I would need to leave exactly at closing because I need to walk to my bus stop and if I miss that bus I'm kind of SOL

until the next one comes a little before midnight. He agrees and says it won't be a problem. He also mentions that I am dressed so formally and casual as best. So the next day I decided to just wear the same thing I saw my other female co-workers wear and I come in for my shift. I am wearing all black short sleeve t-shirt, black yoga pants, non-slips and my apron. I also happened to have multiple tattoos, most of which were on my wrists, forearms, and inner arms. Not a full sleeve, but pretty visible. To most of the co-workers, this was enough to show them I was in fact over 18, but it also made me more interesting of an object to leer at during my shift for him. As I was restocking some of the sauces we put on the table he approached me and stared me down intently. I looked up startled to see him so close to me and just said yes. He just stared at me for

a few seconds and said one coffee from me. We had a machine we used to make various coffee drinks that we kept in the back so I assumed this was what he meant and said um okay sure thanks I appreciate that. He seemed really content and just walked away without another word. He never actually brings me any coffee and I think this is kind of weird but just go back to doing my job. A few hours later and it's finally time I can take my lunch break so I quickly place my to-go order and run to the bathroom to change into a sweater. When I come back from changing my food is ready and he hands me the food and I notice that there is a piece of paper on top and that he is smirking at me then looking to my manager with a smile. I realize later that the piece of paper is his phone number.

When I come back from my lunch, I am asked by my manager to go into the storage unit behind the restaurant and grab cases of soda to restock the fridge. I agree and head back. This storage unit was basically a metal shipping carrier that was in the parking lot behind the restaurant. There was one big heavy metal door to get in and no light on the inside. While I was in there I had my back turned to the metal door while I was knelt down looking for all the cases of soda on the shelves. Hey. My heart nearly stops and I let out a sharp squeak of terror and quickly turn around to see him. I chuckle half-heartedly to try and make it seem like I wasn't on the verge of passing out and just quickly ask,

Am I in your way? Silence. I slowly stand up and brace my back against the wall of the shipping container, slowly realizing that I may not be in the safest position right now. You never texted me. He slowly starts to move towards me and I half cry, half shout, I have a boyfriend. Dead silence again.

He simply slams his fist into the shipping carrier door and walks out without a word. His shift ended one hour later, mine was set to end in another five hours. He seemed to have left and I got through the rest of my shift almost completely without incident. I noticed a car in the parking lot of the restaurant going out through the entrance and think how stupid why would they go that way? The car goes towards the intersection and U-turns to be driving the same way I'm walking. At this point it's about 10.30pm. I had just finished closing up and began walking towards my bus stop only about a mile away at the train station. As I am walking I stay on the phone with my godmother and walk along to the train station. As I reach my stop I realize that there was a car that keeps circling.

I had noticed it while I was walking from my job but thought that it must just be because I was on a straight road for so long. And when I noticed the lift badge on it I assume it's just someone looking for their passenger. I know that it can be dangerous waiting at night by myself since the trains had already stopped running that night and I had another 30 or so minutes before my bus would arrive. I keep pepper spray and a small switchblade as well as a whistle in my backpack for this exact reason. I place my backpack down next to me on the bench and pop in one of my earbuds so I can have my playlist queued up and ready to go when the bus arrives. 15 more minutes go by and I see the car circle again. Another ten minutes and it pulls up directly in front of me. I take out my earbud to preemptively say, I'm not your passenger, sorry. The window on the car rolls down and I see him. Get in,

he demands quickly. I'm dumbfounded and freeze. No thank you, my bus will be here soon. He smiles eerily. Don't you see who it is? You know me, get in. I tense up. No, I really don't want to, please leave me alone. My voice is shaking and breaking on every word. I reach slowly for my backpack and freeze. Get in the car. I feel my entire body lock up and I want to scream but nothing comes out. I hear his door unlock and I start to panic thinking this is going to end very badly for me. My bus pulls in and I see the driver door of his car slam shut and peels off down the road in a hurry. I run onto the bus and quickly take the closest seat to the driver I possibly could.

As soon as I get through the door of my room and see my boyfriend, I burst into tears and sob. I was shaking the entire bus ride with the realization that he had followed me in his car for a mile to the bus stop and then circled and waited until I was completely alone. I felt so ashamed that I had all the tools I believed I needed to keep myself safe and I had froze. I went to the police the next day and was told that even though they agreed it was extremely concerning and he could escalate further that they couldn't do anything until he flat out stated he intends to hurt me or stalk me for at least 48 hours. I was completely devastated but also determined to stay away from him in that place.

I quit over text the next day because I was not about to go in person. I live in a house on a cul-de-sac with my mom, two brothers and a roommate. I work two part-time jobs, one of which is in the same office my mom works at. She's a doctor and I work with medical records. I'm 20, my brothers, who are twins, are 17, my mom is 57, and the roommate is 18. We also live very close to a volunteer firehouse that blares an extremely loud alarm when there is an emergency. Everyone within a couple of miles can hear the alarm. We're middle class and live in a modest house but have a large front yard because our driveway is super long.

Seven years ago we moved into our house and for a while everything was chill until we found out about our crazy neighbor who I'll call Bob for privacy reasons. Bob has extremely paranoid schizophrenia and legitimately believes that the government is after him. He thinks that people are trying to brainwash him via microwaves and he freaks out whenever he hears a plane pass by because he thinks they're after him. Whenever the firehouse blares the alarm Bob calls the police because he thinks someone is coming after him and every time they have to tell him that he can't do that. He has also made some odd comments about one of my brothers as well. For a few years we didn't hear much from him until one day

he sent a letter in the mail trying to sell us his baseball cards for one million dollars. Apparently he sent the same letter to everyone else in the cul-de-sac. Everyone discarded the letters. All our neighbors are aware of bob they thought he was just a little crazy but mainly harmless we thought so too we were wrong last winter we began to find mysterious footprints in the snow it was a human's footprints across the front yard of the house we knew it wasn't any of our footprints because none of us walk so far out into that part of our front yard like that. As I said earlier, our front yard is very large. We just shrugged it off as something odd.

For a while, Bob hadn't bothered us and we weren't thinking much of him at the time. Flash forward to a few days ago. Police were at Bob's house. Apparently he's being evicted. We kind of breathed a sigh of relief because he was weird but didn't think much of it. The next day after that was a normal day. Nothing odd. That was until Bob showed up at work. He began to rant to everyone about how he's in the military before going to my mom's secretary, asking to have lab work done on him. This was raising a bunch of red flags because my mom never told him where she worked. Not only that, but to find my mom's secretary, he'd have to go back behind the main row of secretaries. Each doctor has their own

secretary and there are about 15 secretaries total, doctor has their own secretary and there are about 15 secretaries total each with their own desk into a smaller area where a large printer is. My mom's secretary is in that smaller area and it should be impossible for a stranger who hasn't been there before to know where she was. How did Bob know where to find my mom's secretary and ask for my mom despite not ever being there before, my mom never telling him her name? This freaked us out and we decided to do some research on Bob. It turns out his dad was ex-military and that Bob owns a bunch of firearms. Bob's shady behavior towards my mom and showing up at our work could only mean one thing.

This man is stalking us and he is dangerous. Bob's shady behavior towards my mom and showing up at our work could only mean one thing. This man is stalking us and he is dangerous. At the very least we have begun to suspect that he has been going through our mail. It was also likely that it was his footprints that were in the snow of our yard last winter. My mom got a peace order, it's kind of like a restraining order, rather quickly, and then notified all the other neighbors about what happened. We thought maybe things would die down now, but nope. Today he was in the parking lot of work, staring blankly at one of the secretaries. She said he was sweating and looked a little off.

He didn't stop staring at her. He asked about my mom again. Everyone in the family is on edge. He has guns, has been stalking my mom at work and is being evicted. He doesn't have much to lose if he did some dangerous stuff to us. We notify the police and are making sure to lock the doors and install security cameras so that we can see if he comes onto the property again. No one is allowed home alone until the craziness stops and until we know for a fact that we'll be safe. My first year of college was my first step out of my hometown. I was always a tad bit shy, but being away from home and surrounded by strangers made me much worse. One or two girls in my dorm had introduced themselves and we became good friends,

but they would remain the only people I'd speak to for several months. This was until I met Brian. He was also a freshman and a big introvert like me. We hit it off quickly and were dating within a month. He was into anime and Japanese culture big time. Probably the biggest weeaboo in the school but he treated me well for a while. Things started to change when we had been together for about six months. We were talking about our favorite movies when he realized none of mine were anime. He got very angry and started berating me for it. I was shocked by this behavior. He'd never acted this way toward me before. He was calling me a liar and a fake, saying I tricked him into going out with him. This didn't make any sense to me.

I never told him, not once, that I liked anime. I think he just assumed I would like it because I was of Japanese descent. I realize now that's probably why he introduced himself to me in the first place. His yelling and name-calling upset me so much I ran off to my room to hide. I wouldn't hear from him again until he sent me a text a few days later. In it, he said he wanted to see me in person so he could apologize face to face. And like an idiot, I agreed. When I got to the library, his apology quickly devolved into another yelling session.

He was nice and quiet at first, like usual, but he began getting more and more angry as he talked and things went downhill fast. Like before I fled back to the safety of my room and stayed there for a couple of weeks except for when I went to class. Thankfully I'd forgotten to tell him my class schedule. Multiple times over those weeks I got texts apologizing for his behavior, sometimes more than one a day but I learned my lesson and ignored them. Once he realized I wasn't going to contact him he began trying to see me at my dorm. The other girls did a good job keeping him away but finally one day he wouldn't take no for an answer and we had to call the campus police to make him leave. That night the other girls in the dorm came to my room and voiced

their concerns about him. The consensus seemed to be that they were all afraid for not only my safety, but also for their own. They recommended I file a restraining order against him. So the next day, along with a few of the girls from the rugby team, I went to the campus police office to file the order. Since I occasionally ventured off of campus, the officers suggested I also go to the city police and file another order with them and so I did. The seriousness of all this was becoming overwhelming. Without the support of my friends, I'm not sure I would have survived it at all. The following day, he must have been notified of my filings. I received almost 10 text messages from him writing the gamut of sincere apologies to actual death threats. I emailed the messages to both the police agencies and they said to keep in touch with them and to call 911 if he tried to contact me again in person.

Me ignoring his messages must have bothered him so much that he was willing to risk jail because a couple of days later, he showed up at my dorm. He was likely headed for my room but was spotted before he made it to my floor. The campus police caught him and eventually turned him over to the city police. After spending the night in jail, he was released. Later that afternoon, he was sent a message to report to the dean's office. The stalking and subsequent arrests had reached some of those higher up at the university and they were brought into a meeting to hear his side. At the end of the hour-long meeting, it was decided to kick him out. He was told to be off the campus grounds by 9pm that evening

and to my amazement, he did as he was told for once. That was the last time I saw him. Of course, he had to send me one more angry text message on his way out of town, but I was so happy that he was leaving, his words didn't bother me at all. The charges against him were eventually dropped. They were contingent upon him leaving town and never contacting me again. I'm overjoyed to say that he's kept his side of the bargain. My only remaining concerns are for the next poor girl he may set his sights on. Hopefully he learned his lesson, and there won't be a next time.

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Make instant deposits or same-day withdrawals. Download the BetMGM Ontario app today. Visit BetMGM.com for terms and conditions. Thank you. agreement with iGamingOntario. This just happened a few hours ago. I have called and reported it to the police and I'm home safely, but guess I am still in shock. Could do with putting it down in writing to process it and figure this is a good place as any to share what happened. I finished work early today and so decided to go out for a run. I set out around 4.30 and decided my usual routes which cross many roads will not be very practical and so I took an alternate route

along a canal towpath and some pathways through woods that I knew would be less busy. Everything was going well. I was pushing myself steady until I got to a pathway on the back around 6 kilometers into the route. It is a long straight path with a canal on the left side, and on their right there is a wasteland where some factories used to be but have mostly been demolished. It has been left abandoned for as long as I can remember and is overgrown with trees and weeds but there are the odd bits of an old factory that for some reason weren't fully demolished. As I got level with one part of the factory which still had some old metal fire escape steps attached to it I noticed a rough looking guy sat on the wall with his legs

hanging down. He jumped to his feet as he saw me coming and shouted something but I couldn't make it out. As I came level to where he was I heard him say, Wait there, can you help me find my phone? He said this while he was running down the steps and so I stopped as I got level with where the bottom of the steps were, meaning we were standing just a few feet apart, but with a fence in between us. It was a really old iron fence with vertical metal bars that have spikes at the top like you sometimes see around churches and things. He asked me if I would help him find his phone again, saying he had dropped it somewhere nearby, and asked if I could ring his number so he could listen for it. I felt I couldn't exactly refuse as my phone was strapped to my arm so I said he could tell me the number and I took my phone off my arm and unlocked it. He blurted out a phone number but said it far too

fast and it didn't begin with 07 which made me start to feel like something wasn't right. I entered seven numbers and then he started to look around and saying, I can hear it, come and help me look, as he looked around at the ground. I was about to say that I haven't even finished dialing when a much larger guy appeared from behind a section of wall to my right. He was also really scruffy looking and from the look of his eyes it seemed like he was on drugs. He came out saying that he could hear the phone ringing over towards him and beckoned me to come through a gap in the fence and help look. The first guy then said, it's ringing yeah? And I told him it was even though I still hadn't dialed the last digits and now I was sure that they were trying to lure me

to come over to that side of the fence. After two or three times of them both beckoning me to come and help, always insisting they could hear the ring, I heard the second guy say, he's not going to fall for it. He said it in a hushed way as if he thought that I wouldn't hear but with it being out in the middle of nowhere I could clearly understand what he said. The first guy then started acting quite aggressive and punching a tree telling me he needed the phone badly and how his whole life was on the phone, telling me to come and help them look for it. While he was punching the tree and ranting, the second guy had taken a few steps away to the right, meaning I couldn't keep my eyes on both of them at the same time. It was after 5pm by this point and had gotten dark all

of a sudden which made the whole thing even more unsettling. I noticed that there was a gap in the fence where some of the bars had been removed right where the guy was heading and I decided at that point to just get out of there and made a run for it. Neither of them said anything as I ran away which makes me sure that they had malicious intentions. If they genuinely lost their phone and needed help I would expect them to shout where are you going or something to try to get me to come back but they didn't shout anything. After sprinting for a good 20-30 seconds I turned to see if they were chasing me. They both were stood on the path around where the gap in the

fence had been but weren't chasing me, they were just standing there watching me run away. I continued running away but kept looking back every few seconds until I was out of sight. It was at this point I got off the canal path and onto the roads. The person I spoke to on the phone to report it took my details and the descriptions but seems to think it wasn't anything worth worrying about but said it will be investigated. The whole incident has left me a bit unnerved and I am pretty sure I won't be jogging that route alone anytime soon. So I was around 7 at the time and it was in summer of 2011. I live in a pretty small village

in France where everyone knows each other and everyone trusts each other. My parents were working all the afternoon and before going to work they would drop me and my little sister at our grandparents house which was a 20 minute walk from where I lived and my sister which are both three years younger than me We took our bikes and went out to ride around where my grandparents were living There was a field very near to where we would always go And a large place just in front of it that served as parking for those living nearby So the place wasn't isolated We had the order to get back at 8pm from my grandma because that's the time where our parents will come fetch us. While we were at that place I remember there was a woman playing with her son in front

of her house with a water gun and a red car parked in front of her house. I know this car wasn't a car from someone around because I know that village very well but I didn't think anything of it. There was a guy sitting in that car during the entire time we were here with our bikes and that was the only thing I thought was weird. After we finished eating around 7pm we begged our grandma to go out riding bikes again and after lots of hugs and negotiations she accepted but told us to be careful because it was getting dark and to not follow or accept anything from a stranger. So we went out again and we go back to where we had been all afternoon before only my cousin little sister and myself. I'm going to be honest here but for some reason

I was so nervous that my stomach was hurting and I was almost crying. I didn't know why at the time and thought I was afraid of vomiting because my stomach was hurting so that's why I was nervous because when I was that age vomit was my absolute phobia. Now that I'm older I can only think that what I was feeling was actually anxiety. While my sister and cousin were talking and riding together I was just sitting on my bike trying not to cry and just watching them. We stood here a long time and, as usual, we didn't watch the hours go by. My grandma was used to us coming back late though, but we would get scolded every time. Then, the red car appeared again, except this time there was now three guys in it.

They all had lots of muscles and seemed to be in their thirties. They stopped by my little sister and cousin and, being the older one, I quickly approached to see what they wanted. I was and still am a really, really shy person, so I didn't want to be the one to tell them to leave us alone because at that point something was just off and I wanted to leave. The red car stops and the guy that was sitting in the back comes out, smiling and appearing very innocent. He told us, Hey, I know where you live. We can give you a ride home. With the voice of an adult talking to a baby, first big red flag. I politely tell him that, no, we're fine, and that we're about to go back to our grandparents' house anyway.

He became angry. Second big red flag. He told us that he knew our grandparents and that he was here to bring us back to them. At that point I was thinking, why would he bring us back in his car while their house is literally like five minutes away? I asked him how he could bring us if we had the bikes. Besides, there was only two seats free in the car. He became even more angry and told us to, Hey, just get in the car. She'll get on my knees. Showing my little sister that was very short at that point I don't really

know I'm both thinking that maybe it's true and he's getting impatient because we're already late and he maybe had something else to do after bringing us back and at the same time I just have the word run in my head so luckily this ends well because it turns out we were incredibly late and our grandma had sent my grandpa to go get us. When he arrived he asked the guy what they were doing and they just answered that they were checking how we were and left. I told my grandpa what had happened and I can promise you I've never seen him so enraged before. He called them all the insults in the world and called the police right when he got home. That's when seven-year-old me understood what had just happened and I was terrified of going out for so long. Now it's

okay but I'm still so anxious about being outside even if I'm with somebody. Sadly, I don't know what happened next. I don't know if those guys were ever found. I don't know if they tried kidnapping other kids. I don't know anything. So for those three suspicious guys in the red car in France on a summer evening in July of 2011, never come back to our town again. So this story begins with my mom, my little brother, six years old at the time, and myself being 19. Our washing machine broke at our house and my mom refused to fix it because all of us were always running up the bill anyways when we used the machine constantly. So naturally we started going to the laundromat to wash all of our clothes. Now the laundromat that we've been using has been the same one we've used for nearly a decade. I have a big family consisting of 8

people, all boys except for my mom, bless her soul. So we usually went to the laundromat for washing clothes even when the machine was working. Even when we moved houses, we still used the same laundromat because of loyalty reasons. The owner knew us, watched us grow up, and were very friendly with us when changes were happening around the laundromat. Now I recently got some new earbuds that I was itching to test out for my phone and the laundromat is the perfect place to be able to play some music quietly, wash, dry and fold clothes without causing any issues. The routine started as normal with my mom and I putting clothes in separate washers depending on their color, size, thickness, etc.

My little brother who was with us at the time was just running around playing with all of the other kids that may have been there. We were there in the middle of the day when most people were at work so it was nearly empty save for a few independent moms and I think one kid. Putting the clothes into the machines which were a few garbage bags full, only took us about 15 to 20 minutes. I remember seeing my little brother running up and down the aisles, having got this really bouncy ball from the 25 cent dispenser that the laundromat had. During this, both my mom and I noticed that a silver car had pulled up at the front of the laundromat and had been sitting there for a long duration whilst no one got out to prepare to wash clothes. Nothing super unusual, it was just odd.

Even I've been known to sit in the car for half an hour dreading washing clothes. At that time, the clothes had been in the washers and started so we just had to sit around and wait for the clothes to finish washing so we could put them into the dryers and head home after folding. So far so good. I decided to put in my earbuds, listening to my favorite 200 plus song playlist that I still haven't sorted. But when I listen to the music I tend to walk around and not pay attention to anything, either inside or outside, though I stayed on the front sidewalk right in front of the doors of the laundromat when I did go outside. I headed outside with my little brother and my mom was still inside. I was pacing while slightly dancing to the music I was

listening to, not really caring what others thought about me. I only stopped when I heard a car honk near my left, making me startle bad and stare at the car that scared me. It was the silver car that had been parked there earlier. Still, no one had gotten out of that car at this point. I looked over at the car, taking out one of my earbuds and trying to see who had honked their horn because it was near me. The driver's side tinted window rolled down on the car and an older man was sitting in the seat looking directly at me. I instantly got a bad vibe from the guy because he looked like he was too happy to see me for a complete stranger. My mom at this point walked outside to our car which was about two cars away from the silver one.

She was getting something out but noticed that I was being talked to by this stranger. Here's how the conversation went. The pastor. Excuse me, young man. I'm a pastor over at X and X church. I'm looking for some new musicians for our band because our other ones left. Me hearing that he was a pastor immediately put down my guard as i had been to church before and that position is always a respected one oh well i'm not a musician but i do know of someone that you can contact he seemed satisfied with that answer but he motioned for me to come closer and

i took a step towards the edge of the sidewalk, still not stepping off because I still didn't want to get too close. Can you come closer? I can't quite hear you. Me, just speaking louder. I said I know of someone that you can contact. He's actually a pianist and a saxophone player. I actually did know one of my mom's best friend's fiance who was super talented with music and acting. The pastor just motioned me over to him again but this time his facial expression was less approachable but not quite menacing. Almost annoyed that I hadn't walked up to him yet. By now my mom had looked up from her car, having gotten whatever she was looking for and walked up the sidewalk talking to me.

Hey, who is that? What do they want? I don't know. They said that they're a pastor and that they're looking for musicians. Immediately mom's expression turned serious and annoyed, saying to back away from the car and tell him to go find some place else to look for that. I looked back at the pastor who was then glaring daggers at my mom, like legit scowling at her as if something he had planned had been ruined. I backed away from the sidewalk, glad that I hadn't stepped into the parking lot yet, and just shrugged my shoulders apologetically towards the silver car before turning around and walking back inside the laundromat. My mom followed me inside and asked me more about it later. She said she had heard the car honk and that she saw the old guy talking to

me but the moment it looked as if though I was going to step into the parking lot she intervened to stop me because the guy was super suspicious. I argued that I could take care of myself, being 19, but she didn't care. Also, we had my little brother still inside the laundromat, so it could have been a ploy to get me distracted in order to get to him, which was even scarier. The only doors to enter were the ones that were directly in front of the laundromat, but our washers and dryers were in the far back corner. We continued to talk about it, laughing later about how weird it was that a pastor would come to a laundromat to ask for musicians for his church. Why didn't he go to people in his church to ask for references?

It only made it creepier that while we were folding up the clothes after we dried them, we had noticed that the car was gone, and the pastor never got out of his car to wash clothes after sitting in that parking lot for over an hour. Honestly, I don't think he would have been able to pull me through the car window or something because I'm a pretty big dude, but I figured that maybe they weren't after me, but after my little brother who was running around the laundromat the entire time. The place had an entire front wall of windows so you could clearly see into the place all the way into the back. I even looked up the church to see if the pastor was telling the truth but was shocked to find that the pastor's picture that was online was nowhere near the same as the one that approached us that day. It still gives me shivers.

This is one of my favorite stories to tell. Describes my childhood and fits this community, so I decided to share. It was 2009, I'm in high school and I'm male. I live in an island where most people live near the coast, but my childhood house is deep in the mountains. Imagine a house in the woods, but at the very top of a mountain. The house is surrounded by thick mists every night like in bad horror movies. The woods around it start less than two feet from the outer walls of the house. Our closest neighbor is a 15 minute drive and five minutes away there's an abandoned house.

I think the house belonged to a distant relative but was abandoned more than 40 years ago. There's no street lights and there's all kind of animals roaming the area. This is important to the story because even though you couldn't see a group of ten people hiding one meter away from you in the woods, you could hear absolutely everything up to a kilometer away. If we saw car lights or heard a car approaching, me and my family would turn off the lights and hide. Don't know why. Shy, antisocial, you name it. I think that's enough to set up the story but I'll add some details that might be important. My house is small and impoverished but our family car was a good one. I don't know much about cars but my dad always says that without a really good

car we wouldn't be able to go up and down the mountain we lived in. Also there's currently eight people inside our house around 11pm. So I'm at the dining table enjoying some cereal while I watch some anime, having the time of my life. The lights in the house are on so nothing could be seen in the dark outside. There's a window in front of me that looks to the front entrance of the house and the only road. Something catches my attention but I don't hear or see anything. I think I see a human silhouette outside but it doesn't move. So I just ignore it as some effect of the lights in the house and my own reflection. More anime, more serial. I feel something moving at the other side of the window and this time the silhouette is waving at me. I felt my heart jump out of my chest and froze.

The person outside waves at me as if trying for somebody else in the house to notice him. After maybe ten seconds in which I'm just looking at him with a spoon halfway in my mouth, he decides to call. Hello, I need help. My parents hear him and approach the window, which made me sure I wasn't looking at a ghost. Amazing news to me. The man outside starts telling a story about how he got his car stolen at gunpoint and needs help. My parents are surprised that nobody heard his footsteps or a car or anything, so they whispered

their theories amongst themselves. For the mysterious guy's story to be true he had to be mugged more than a mile away, got his car stolen and then walk for half an hour in the dark through the woods following the dim light of our house. My parents still decide to believe him and they offer calling the police. Our visitor begs to say the stupidest thing he could have. Don't call the police, I don't have a gun. My parents stay silent for a while. The guy outside knows he's messed up but proceeds to make his request. Can I get a ride downtown? My dad nervously chuckles and gives him an excuse.

He mentions the time, the fact that he felt that the guy was lying and that he had already called the police, which was a lie. This is when my favorite part of the story begins. I stand up from the table, shaking. I go to a closet and even though I can't see the guy's face, I know he's still following my actions. I get two machetes that are half my size and run to the other room. I was terrified and looking back I probably took away the only weapons my parents could have used to protect themselves in case of an altercation. I open a door to the room where me and my siblings sleep and they were watching some silly show, probably something stupid like Hannah Montana or iCarly, and their hyena laughter came out. My sisters are loud and my younger brothers are 4 years old, 7 years old and 9 years old, so their laughs are angelical by day and demonic by night.

I signal at them to shut up and they do so, joining me and my parents in our fear. We hear in silence as the guy says, it's okay if you can't help me, I'll go to the next house. There's no next house, you should wait for the police here, my dad said. I don't need the police, I'm good. This goes back and forth. The guy is now in good shape to walk an hour down the mountain to reach downtown. My dad offers a rusty metal tricycle from our porch so that he can go downtown as a joke. The guy accepts this offer and grabs the tricycle. I assume he just wanted to leave with something.

This tricycle is 20 years old and it definitely doesn't work. We hear it screeching for a couple of seconds as the stranger struggled to be able to ride it and then it stopped not too far away from our house. It seemed like he stopped and we didn't hear any footsteps that indicated the guy had left. After trying to identify if he was still on site to know of Vast, my dad calls the police. We wait in silence, looking at the road from the front windows. Fifty minutes later, the police get there. Amazing time back home. Heroic, even. And as soon as the red and blue lights show up, they illuminate the entire road up to the abandoned house. The tricycle is still in the

road not too far away. The police claim not seeing anybody on the road, only one road in the mountain. If the guy kept on walking, they would have seen him, so they just take a look at the woods with a flashlight and called it a day. The cops were clearly freaked out by the eerie look of our house and didn't stay for more than five minutes. Nothing else happened that night. I slept with two machetes under my pillow which I remember angered one of my sisters. We have no idea who the person was, no carjackings were reported the next day and even though a lot of weird things happened around my house we never saw this guy again. It's pretty obvious he was trying to steal our family's car but there were a few things we could

never understand. Where did he come from? Where did he go? If his story was true, he had the worst luck in the world. I think the situation was interesting because I think about his point of view when our horror night turns a bit comical. I mean, imagine this. You go to rob a house. Turns out the people inside speak calmly. I don't know how much criminals encounter this as they try to intimidate or deceive. There's a scrawny, seemingly mute kid that tries to be sneaky in grabbing some machetes and then hiding the darkness in the house. And there's child's laughter coming from the non-visible rooms from the house. He could see the doors but the inside of the rooms would be geometrically impossible to look

into from the windows. I think we were lucky to out-creep the creep that night. I don't see any other reason for the guy to back out from his plans. The guy clearly had a gun and bad intentions, not to mention his ability to ninja walk through a forest where we even hear wildcats walking around. Also, no neighbors to witness or hear anything. When people say nothing good ever happens past midnight, they say it for a reason. I, along with my girlfriend at the time and my best friend, sneaked out during the summer. We did this quite often and each time was better than the last. I mean, the first time the three of us did set the bar really low and was easy to be beaten. It was about 1.30am and the three of us were downtown.

We have weddings in our town and as you know, these things go really late. We saw a couple stumbling on the street, dressed for a wedding that was happening that night. We started cracking jokes to each other like the dumb teens we were. And then out of the blue, I see the man hit his wife. I'm not sure if they were boyfriend, girlfriend, or husband and wife, but for the sake of simplicity, I will go with the latter. I look over to my girlfriend and buddy and see the look of shock on their faces. The man started screaming at her, saw us and took off. Instantly and against my girlfriend's wish, I ran up to the wife that was crying, face down on the ground. My girlfriend and friend were at

the end of the street. I told them to give us some space. I'm trained to deal with things like this, I'm in a navy program and know how to talk to people. She was clearly very, very intoxicated and could hardly talk. I was able to calm her down and asked her what her name was, where she was from, where she's staying, etc. This conversation went on for about 15 minutes and by now, my group had caught up with me and, like I asked, was giving me space to do my thing. She told me where she was staying, but told me she didn't know how to get there and that she was from out of town. I told her not to worry and that everything would be okay. I helped her up and started to walk to where she was staying.

It was about a fourth of a mile away and when someone has a very difficult time walking it takes a long time just to go about 20 feet. Nonetheless, I knew this was the right thing to do and wanted to help. Coincidentally, the police station was right across the street and thank god for this. I usually check my back when we go out at night because there were some pretty weird people where I live and I was lucky that I was being that cautious. I turned around to see a man, tall in stature, incredibly muscular and angry behind us and my friends. I turned to the woman and asked if that was her husband to which she started trembling and was able to mutter yes. I told my friend to get away from us because I knew things were going to get bad.

They went to the other side of the street and I could tell that they were scared for me. My buddy has his phone out ready to call 911 and my girlfriend was shaking. Then this guy was on me and his wife. He was screaming at me for having the audacity to help her and for being near his wife. The entire time I was occasionally glancing down at his hands when they weren't in my face to make sure they weren't in fists. I never said anything to try to start more of an argument, only things like, sir you need to step away from me, you need to calm down, the police station is just literally across the street. Things that you would say to avoid getting beaten up. I'm a tall guy, I'm 6'2 and feel like I'm not someone people want to mess with, but I'm under 18.

This guy was probably early 30s, about 6'4 and honestly 100% muscle. Very, very scary man. I looked down, saw his hands and a fist and stepped back quickly, keeping his wife behind me. This wasn't smart. Standing in between a drunken man and his wife is a big, big no-no. I mouthed to my friends to get the police right now, and he turned around and sped the other way. The man didn't notice me doing this, so I figured I was good. The police answered my buddy, and he was pointing over to us, but they didn't come out.

It took them about five minutes to come out, and by then, thankfully, the guy fled. I told them what had happened and they sent out a search team for this guy. Turns out he was hiding on the road we were just on a little down the way. The police took the woman, escorted her back to where she was staying and kept the man in the station for the night. They thanked me for what I did and told my friends and me that we should go home. We agreed as youth does and went on our way. Moral of this story is, if you see someone who needs help, help them. It's up to you. Be the hero they need. So some backstory info before I begin. This is something that I found out about a week ago but has been ongoing apparently for several years. I'm 24 female and my partner is 24 male.

His ex-girlfriend before he met me, another key member of this story, is also a 24 year old female and her ex-boyfriend, the one directly before she dated my boyfriend, is 35 year old male. To start, I began frequently attending a goth club and there are events that happen once a week. My two best friends are there regularly so I decided I would work on not being a depressed hermit that never leaves my house and start socializing and making more than my two only friends. So I started going with the intention of making new friends and I did. It was all going really well and I'm usually very shy and anxious but I started feeling safe enough

there that I was able to open up to people approaching me and befriend them. One night I keep noticing a goth boy in makeup and platform boots because 1. He has a cold cape and 2. He seems to always be somewhere nearby. It's a large club with several rooms inside and outside but I didn't think anything odd of it immediately. He eventually approaches me to say hello and I ask if I know him since I've noticed him nearby frequently throughout the night and he says, yeah you're Nero's girlfriend right? I replied, yeah so you're a friend of Nero then? He laughs and says, well kind of. We actually just have a mutual ex-girlfriend. All of my boyfriend's exes are pretty terrible aside from one from the stories I've heard from

him, his parents, and his friends, so I had no interest in hearing more after that. I told him it was nice meeting him and ran off to rejoin my friends. The very next week, he's there again and says hello when he sees me. I realized before that I hadn't asked his name, so after he greeted me I said, I'm sorry I didn't catch your last name. He says, oh, I'm sorry, I was so drunk. I'm embarrassed for even bringing up Marie like that, but my name is Gerald. I tensed up hearing Marie's name because she was the girl Nero dated before me, and she was still openly admitted to having feelings for Nero and had tried to make advances several times from the moment we started dating. Thankfully, they were all shut down.

I trust my boyfriend, but I have a very strong dislike for Marie. I said, oh so your mutual ex is my favorite one? Sarcastically, he nodded. Yeah, be careful with Marie, she's a dangerous one. He talked a bit more about his previous relationship with Marie, mostly about how manipulative she was, how much she cheated on him, just generally bad-mouthing her. He kept stuttering, seeming a bit awkward and shy, so I wrote him off as being harmless and we finished our conversation and didn't speak again for the rest of the night. Over the next couple of months, I'm there every week as usual, but suddenly, so is Gerald. He hadn't been someone that regularly

attended before, but I really wasn't feeling paranoid about it yet because, one, he seemed so awkward, shy, and innocent when I talked to him. Two, it is like the only goth club around. Maybe he just discovered he liked the place and was also just trying to make new friends. So I told myself that it would be irrational to think he was there for me. I have PTSD and anxiety disorder so it's not uncommon that I have irrational, intrusive, sometimes paranoid thoughts. So I choose to ignore him. One afternoon, Marie calls Nero as he and I were laying down and watching a movie. She wanted to catch up and see how he's doing. They had been friends for years before they dated and while I don't particularly like her,

I trust him and I would never try to dictate who he can and can't be friends with. He has a pretty short casual conversation, asks if she needs anything and then hangs up the phone. I told him, oh that reminds me, I forgot to tell you I met one of Marie's exes a little while ago. He laughs and asks which one. I said, his name was Gerald. And my boyfriend's smile immediately fell from his face and his eyes went huge. All the color drained from his face. Did you say you met Gerald? Where did you meet him? What did he say? Feeling panicked by his reaction, I'm stuttering. Nora and I were at God Club one night and he asked if I was your girlfriend. My boyfriend starts freaking out.

I should mention he has several severe mental disorders and one of them being a panic disorder, so he's on the verge of having a panic attack and I'm trying to calm him down in all of my confusion. When I finally get him calmed down enough, he starts to explain. Before him and Marie dated, five years ago, she had broken up with Gerald for having abusive and obsessive behavior. Afterwards, Gerald began stalking Marie. He would wait outside of her house, wait for her to leave, and follow her everywhere she went, never confronting her, just watching and writing it all down in a journal. Writing down what she was doing, how it made him feel, writing down all the little things she did throughout the

day. In this journal he also wrote about how he was sorry for cheating on her, telling her about the two girls he cheated on her with, a 16 year old and a 17 year old, and he was 30 years old at that time. It was already odd in my opinion that he was a 30 year old dating the 19 year old Marie, but he also cheated on her with underage girls and he openly admitted it in this journal and when Marie started dating Nero he began following Nero as well. Another important thing to know about my boyfriend is that he has schizophrenia. Nothing could possibly be worse to a paranoid schizophrenic trying to create stability in his life than an actual stalker following him around and making him feel that much more paranoid.

Gerald followed them around, writing about both of them in the journal. He printed screenshots from their social media accounts and pictures of them he'd taken, pasting them into this horrifying journal. And then Gerald waited for Marie and Nero to be at her house, and then he left this journal full of horrors at her doorstep. Obviously, both of them panicked when they read the contents. Nero begged Marie to go to the police, but she didn't want to. Something about her child and being scared of it making her look like an unfit mother.

I don't know. Nero broke things off with Marie due to incompatibility and a year later we met and ended up dating pretty quickly. But unbeknownst to him, Gerald had never stopped stalking Nero. We discovered he would make fake accounts just to try to check and see what Nero was doing, since he'd blocked all of Gerald's accounts that he knew of. We found that Gerald had added Nora, mine and Nero's close mutual friend, and of course on her Facebook there were lots of pictures of the three of us together, which is how Gerald found me. And I typically accept friend requests with a decent number of mutual friends, so Gerald had added me from there, before we'd met in person, realizing that I was Nero's current

partner. I'm pretty open about a lot of things, which I'm now realizing can be a negative thing with most of my posts set to public. I'm always posting pictures of Nora and myself at his goth club every week, so he knew that he could run into me there and I'm sure hoping that Nero or Marie would be there as well. But since learning about all of this I started looking back through photographs from the weekly events and I'm finding him somewhere in the background near me numerous times without me knowing. He played the shy awkward card and I really fell for it. I was stupid and fell for it. Yesterday talking to other friends about my discoveries, showing them who he is, even multiples of them have said, oh yeah, I thought you were friends with him because I always saw him following you and Nora around. I felt so nauseous

I wanted to vomit. I somehow was so oblivious, I didn't even realize that my boyfriend's ex's ex had been stalking me. Following me through the club, appearing in every room I'm in when I'm in it. Nero showed me pictures of the journal entries and it was horrifyingly scary. My stomach dropped and I felt sick. How could I have been so obliviously naive? My safe space no longer feels like it's safe anymore. He just spreads his obsession, continually growing and latching on to others involved, while he's still following Marie. Even after all these years, she's afraid when she leaves her house,

and now I'm afraid to leave mine. I'm afraid to go back to this club and see him again. I'm afraid for my friends that attend. How much more will his obsession grow? Who else is he going to follow? Has he followed me home? Does he know where I live now too? I've been feeling so paranoid and unsafe, I haven't left my boyfriend's house since I found out.

I'm afraid to be home and alone. I obviously won't be going back to that club for a while. I ask Marie to take the journal to the police and get a restraining order. I want one myself, but I'm not sure that I have enough evidence to support needing one. But she definitely does having that journal. I hope one day I won't have to look over my shoulder any time I leave my house. To preface this, I would like to say that I have never had any issues with Uber before or after this incident. This was simply an isolated incident that was weird and a little scary. I live in a college town and when I was going to the university I used to take Ubers everywhere that I couldn't walk to.

The parking security at my college were ruthless and I didn't need a ton of parking tickets tacked onto my mounting debt. Not very cost effective but a surefire way that I'd get where I needed to be without losing my parking spot or getting accosted. The night of this particular incident, I had been at a friend's house about five miles from my dorm. I called an Uber as usual and I was picked up by a guy in his mid-twenties. Followed standard safety procedures, asking his name, checking the license plate, asking what my name was, all clear. Guy is definitely an Uber driver, he even has the little light on top of the car. I get in and immediately this guy begins conversation. I don't mind talking to my Uber drivers, I figured it's just polite, but this guy starts our drive by asking question after question. There was the standard, where are you from and are you in college? Super normal,

right? Then, how much do you weigh? This threw me off more than a lot, seeing as that definitely isn't a normal thing to ask a stranger, but the guy had a thick accent and seemed unfamiliar with the area. He was ignoring maps, taking weird turns here and there, but was ultimately headed in the direction of my dorm. I answered his question, following up with a sort of nervous chuckle and telling him that wasn't really a question he should be asking a lot of people. Just a joke, but still. But you're beautiful. Probably just the ideal weight for me. Alright, red alarm bells. Grade A, in a pro pro. I should have said something snippy back, but all I could do was just sort of laugh. I respond with, eh, ideal weights fluctuate.

Stupid, right? But I froze up. Maybe it was just his culture or something. I turn the question on him to sidetrack him from that weird comment, and it turns out the guy's from the Ukraine. He doesn't need an invitation to start talking about himself, and I lapse into the standard uh-huhs and wows to keep him on track. Honestly, this trick works really well when you straight up can't avoid someone who might be flirting with you. They get so caught up in themselves that they forget you're listening. However, this guy seemed to take me asking vague questions as me taking interest in him. He starts staring at me through his rearview mirror, catching my eyes for uncomfortable amounts of time. He's still driving, but I notice that we're starting to take a super

roundabout way to my dorm. Of course I'm nervous now, the roads are deserted, it's incredibly late and I'm alone. But I try and brush it off as a cultural thing again. Maybe I got too chatty, maybe it's my outfit, etc. I pick up my phone and pretend to text, and this guy takes the cue to pry further. Do you have a boyfriend? Yep, we've been together a year. Wow. Ever want to try the market out? You're so young. Nah, we're really happy. It's a shame. Really a shame.

He's still trying to maintain eye contact, leaning towards the back seat. I hum or something in response, and to my joy, I see we're finally approaching my dorm. The guy super slowly creeps to a stop at the curb, and I belt out the standard thanks for the ride, I'll rate you five stars, and go for the door handle. This guy hits the lock button button and I'm locked in. I whip my head around at him and he's turned all the way around in his seat, seatbelt off and grinning like he just won the lottery. I'm freaked out. Um, your doors are still locked. He ignores me, still grinning and asks bluntly for my phone number. I decline as politely as possible, even though I feel like knocking his lights out.

No sale. He asks again, this time more forcefully and adding, I would really love to get to know you better. I can meet you right here tomorrow if you want. Once again, I decline, reminding him that I have a boyfriend and he most definitely would not like that. So you're not allowed to have friends? We can just be friends. Lots of girls around here have friends. At this point, I'm in full panic mode. What he said sounded innocent enough, but he was borderline cornering me into his back seat and was boring holes into me with his eyes. I was afraid he'd drive off with me if I said no again, and I had no means of fighting on me. I'm tall, 5'11", but my limbs are like noodles. This dude had biceps like basketballs. There was no way I'd be able to fight him off. He asks for my phone number again. I don't decline, but blurt out, unlock your door.

He starts to protest, but I repeat myself, pulling the door handle a couple of times. I raise my eyebrows at him, try to give him my best entitled face. I said unlock it. Finally, looking crestfallen, he turns back around and slowly puts his seatbelt on and unlocks the door. I bolt out of the car, slamming the door and breaking into a sprint until I'm finally locked into my dorm room. I'm freaked out for another hour or two but I'm able to go to sleep. I woke up the next morning to a text from this guy who told me I was the most beautiful woman he had ever met and how he wished I hadn't left the car. Immediately I block him and report him to Uber. I haven't heard anything from the guy since. The afterlife spirits in the paranormal have always intrigued me.

My husband and I love to watch basically anything paranormal related. Like anyone who watches these types of shows, I did begin to wonder what is real and what is staged. We always talked about wanting to go on some sort of ghost hunt. As for my husband, he has always been a skeptic. He's one of those I need to see it to believe it kind of people. For my husband's birthday in July, I bought us two tickets to a public investigation at a place called Hillview Manor, located in Newcastle, Pennsylvania. It is a place known for its paranormal activity. The tickets I bought include a tour of the building

and then after the tour you're able to go off on your own to investigate. The time slot for this investigation is from 7 p.m until 4 a.m. If you would like to read up on the history of this place more you can find them online at Haunted Hill View. Everyone thought we were crazy for wanting to do this especially overnight for nine hours, but it's something that we have always been interested in experiencing on our own. We arrived at 6.30, there were maybe three other small groups there to investigate as well. One of these groups takes this kind of thing very seriously and brought a ton of equipment. Here we were with our little backpack that had a few flashlights, a voice

recorder, snacks, drinks, and extra batteries. We walked into the building and just felt creepy. Maybe because we knew it was haunted or because it just smelled musty and old from being unused for so many years. The building had no electricity other than a few lights in the bathroom and the exit signs lighting the hallways, structural code for being able to have investigators and visitors in the building. After all the investigators arrive, the people who work there give us a tour and backstory of Hillview Manor and its most active rooms. This building has three floors, long hallways, and many, many rooms as it was once used as a home for the elderly, poor, and crazy. Not only were there people who ended their lives

there, murders, but also many other stories of the residents and activity throughout the property. During the tour, my husband realized he did not care for the third floor. He didn't really have a reason for it. He just didn't like the way it made him feel. With him being a skeptic I found this quite amusing. I didn't witness anything out of the ordinary while we walked around with the tour guides. I asked my husband if he saw or felt anything and he said he would tell me after the tour. After we finished with the walk through the building my husband pulled me aside and said that during the tour he kept feeling like something was touching him on his arm. It happened once in one of the rooms and again in the chapel.

He said it felt almost like cobwebs rubbing his arm but every time he went to grab it to pull it away nothing was there. This creeped him out a bit. After everyone regrouped in the front room we were able to start investigating on our own. We have never done this before so we walked off just the two of us with a voice recorder, flashlights and EMP in hand acting like we knew what we were doing. We walked the halls and climbed the stairs to the third floor. The floor my husband really did not want to go back to but I figured we would just start there and get it over with while it was still light out. It didn't last long up there. Like I said my husband just did not care for it. After leaving the third floor we visited other

rooms in another portion of the building and tried to record a few sessions. We never experienced anything the entire time. I did a lot of talking. I was always respectful and just trying to say hello and talk with whatever wanted to communicate back. My husband didn't talk much. He finally admitted that he was kind of scared. As it started to get late we realized how dark this building really was. It was freaky.

We usually aren't afraid of the dark, but when you're thrown into a setting that is supposed to have spirits and paranormal activity, you panic a little bit. Now to shorten this up, I'm going to fast forward through a little. Keep in mind, during this time, we haven't experienced anything. After realizing we're too chicken to keep investigating on our own, we decided to find someone else to tag along. We found another group of two to team up with. Who doesn't feel safer in a group, really? This other team had done paranormal investigations before, with this being their sixth one.

We stuck together throughout the rest of the night investigating mainly the first and second floors. Around 11pm we ended up in the atrium on the first floor. This is where the residents would hang out, play the organ, checkers or watch TV. We held an EVP session for a while in there and decided to move on since we weren't getting much. At this point I was getting kind of bored because I haven't seen, heard or felt one thing all night. We walked out of the atrium and down the hallway. They call this area One North.

From what I have read, and I'm not sure how true this statement is, it was the combative unit. During the tour one of the guides admitted that she did not like this hallway or end of the hallway furthest away from the atrium. She just gets a bad feeling there. It's a hallway with patient rooms and a nurse's station. We stopped at the nurse's station to record for a little bit. Nothing. So we moved a little further down the hall past the station. We stayed in this area for a good 15 minutes or so without not much going on other than hearing slight shuffling at the end of the hallway towards the atrium. We laughed about it and said, of course now we're hearing stuff in the area that we just came from. At this point, we turned all of our devices off and got ready to move on.

Mike one of the others we had met up with needed to charge his cell phone so he knelt down to pull a portable charger out of his bag. And here's where things hit the fan. After no activity all night I literally can't believe what is about to happen to us. It's 11.30pm at this point. My husband and I are standing on the left side of the hallway with Mike and Jenny on the right side. Think of it like a hospital hallway. While waiting for Mike to finish plugging his phone into his portable charger, we all begin to hear heavy footsteps starting near the nurse's station. These footsteps grew louder, heavier, and closer as

things started running towards us. The walls and the floor shook with every step that the spirit took. It ran so fast and so hard down this hallway at us. Before we knew it, it was between and through all of us. An immediate rush of electricity ran through my body. Screams of absolute fear escaped each and every one of us. I had never heard my husband scream the way he did that night. He's a tough guy, so to hear him get startled by anything was insane to me. I was backed into the wall of the hallway. My husband tripped over his feet and fell backwards. Jenny fell into the room behind her and Mike stayed crouched down where he was still trying to plug in his phone.

It happened so fast but it was so real and so scary. My husband started yelling, Okay, we're leaving, enough. We immediately ran into the office which thankfully was not very far away. We walked through the office doors and I completely lost it. I fell to my knees bawling and shaking. I was wearing my Apple watch at the time and received a notification that my heart rate was too high. I later checked this to see what the alert was for. In just two minutes my heart rate jumped from 120 to 180 plus beats per minute. I knew they had surveillance cameras and I told them they needed to rewind the footage right now and show me what the F that was. We saw nothing at all in this video. All four of us experienced

the same thing. How was there nothing visible in that video? Figures we all turned our devices off since we were getting ready to move on. How would anyone believe us without audio proof? If we heard and felt it, the audio devices surely would have picked it up too. It was so forceful, almost like a train rushing between all of us. Whatever it was, I didn't get a good feeling from it. It elicited so much fear for me. I don't know if it was because I was so scared from this thing running at us so quickly and unexpectedly in the dark, or because it really was some sort of bad spirit. Here is a photo of the hallway from where the running came from, three minutes before our experience. You can view the video

here. Now keep in mind there was no sound. Quality is terrible. I took my own video of the surveillance. Around 11 seconds he'll see us react to hearing the same thing. After I back into the wall, watch my flashlights which are hanging off my wrist. The one floats in the air before gravity takes it back down. After viewing the video and trying to calm myself down the best that I could, I wanted to get away from this place ASAP. After my husband and I told the spirits they did not have permission to come home with us, we left, four hours before our scheduled time. It was an hour and a half drive home. My adrenaline was so bad I could hardly breathe. Luckily my husband was well enough to drive. We got home and of course I couldn't

sleep. I was terrified. I couldn't be in the dark. I was sick to my stomach to the point that I was heaving over the toilet all night. I couldn't eat or drink. I was gagging on everything I tried to put into my mouth to eat. The next night I had a friend bring me sage so I could cleanse my house and myself. My mind was all over the place. My biggest fear was that something followed me home. Everyone assured me that if something was attached to me, my kids and dogs would know. I ended up not eating for four days, not sleeping. I felt sick to my stomach and depressed. I lost ten pounds in four days, and I was scared to be alone. I begged my husband to stay home from work. My dogs would run down the hallway in our house, and I would have some form of PTSD. Them running would remind me of the

feeling of that spirit charging down the hallway through us, feeling the footsteps in the walls and floor. Loud noises startled me. I didn't want to be around my kids, my husband or anybody, I just wanted to be left alone. My anxiety was so bad I was willing to do anything to help me feel better. I had people bring me Valium which I ended up not using per my husband's request and essential oils, crystals to put in my water. I even thought about having the house blessed. I thought about ending my life actually. Surprisingly that went through my mind.

I didn't want to go on in life knowing what I knew now. It scared the life out of me. I wish I never found out how real the paranormal really was. I wanted to go back to how I was before having this experience. I cried every day wishing I could just feel like myself again. I began wondering about what really happens after you die, if spirits were real. Who was to say heaven, hell, god, the devil, aliens and UFOs for that matter weren't real too? I would lay in bed wide awake all night, freaking myself out while listening to every creak of my settling home, mad at my husband for being able to sleep so soundly while I was unable to sleep until I felt safe enough after the sun came up.

I did a lot of reading on the internet after this incident. I figured out that I was suffering from what was severe panic and anxiety due to trauma. Some people experience trauma after a car accident, a natural disaster, an intruder. But this was my trauma. A paranormal experience. Sounds crazy right? How would I ever been able to go talk to someone if I needed it without sounding nuts? Fast forward three months and here I am. Almost normal again. Still afraid of the dark I won't lie. I panic if I'm left in the dark too long while I'm searching for a light switch, like I'm going to see or feel something or someone until I get the lights on. I am finally and thankfully sleeping through the night. It took me a while to get to where I am, but I'm so thankful that I'm healing with every day that passes.

I totally respect the spirit world even more than I did before, and I would never barge into their space again. To this day I still can't believe how bad the experience messed me up, how sick it made me afterwards. I am forever going to wonder why this spirit chose our group that night. Why was I the only one that felt the way I did after this experience? Who was it and what was their purpose? The people who worked there were so intrigued saying nothing like that has ever happened in the many times people have visited and investigated there. I will be curious to find out if it ever happens again. So me, my fiancé and her children moved into our dream house September of 2018. At first everything was perfect. It wasn't until a few months after moving in until we started to experience the strangeness.

The first situation happened one night when me and my fiancé were sleeping in our bed. We slept with the lights off because that's just how I've always slept and I never thought twice about it, ever. However, this night just felt different. She was making strange noises and I felt very strange as if though there was this static type of energy around the room. She started mumbling in her sleep however I couldn't make out any of the words. She seemed as if though she was struggling. I tried to wake her but she just wouldn't wake up. I tried to ignore this and go back to sleep but this static strange feeling got so bad that I just had to turn on my bedside lamp. However she kept

making these strange noises and it made me so uncomfortable that I had this completely what felt random sudden urge to close my bathroom door that was diagonal to our bed. I can't explain what made me do this seemingly unrational decision but it's as if everything in my entire being was telling me to close this bathroom door. Again being a complete skeptic to anything paranormal or strange, I still couldn't shake this deep urge to close this door for some reason, so I got up from the bed to close it. I only made it a few steps towards the bathroom door when my fiancé shot up straight in the bed, gasping for air, and began bawling her eyes out.

I darted over to her to comfort her and she began rambling about how she felt as if something was holding her down. Yet she said that she left her body, guessing sleep paralysis upon further research, and she was standing in the corner where the bathroom door was. She said she saw me walking towards her and that's what woke her up. Now all this being said I was a skeptic. I didn't really believe in these things. However she was not one to ever make something like this up and with a look of complete horror on her face I believed her. After that incident we both agreed that we just didn't feel safe in that room. Something felt so off so

we both went downstairs to sleep on our living room couch. That very same night, not even 30 minutes later, her son, only being 5 years old at the time, started screaming bloody murder. Due to the strange situation we had earlier we were both still awake. I jumped up off the couch and ran upstairs. He was already running downstairs to us. We met him in the kitchen on the middle floor. Once I was able to calm him down and stop him from crying he was able to explain what was wrong. He said clear as day he saw black things coming out of his wall that were trying to hurt him. Now I understand that he was just five years old, he could have had a bad dream. However this was the first time he had ever claimed such a thing. Even the first time he claimed having a bad dream since I've known him and

I have been in the picture for over two years at this point. Again being a skeptic just didn't seem possible in this moment especially considering what had just happened 30 minutes before. I believed him so I comforted him and brought him down with me and his mother to the living room to sleep with us and my fiance also got her daughter from her room because I didn't feel safe anymore leaving them alone. I just didn't feel safe at all. The next incident was pretty small but I still cannot explain it. A few weeks had passed from that night and me and my fiancé were in our living room. She was on the sofa and I was in my lazy boy. We were just watching TV and the kids were in the upstairs living room playing. I remember my fiancé's

daughter distinctively came downstairs to tell us something but she saw me. She started freaking out and crying. Us being worried her mother went after her asking what was wrong. She said the girl next to me was mad at her now. Now this was very strange because the only ones that were there were me, my fiance, her son, and daughter. So confused we asked her what she meant. She directly said, the girl in the weird white dress doesn't want me here. I remember being so thrown off from this it made me sick, especially after what had already happened. I knew something wasn't right. She said that there was basically a little girl in a white dress next to me where I was sitting, and when she went to talk to me, she said it didn't like her.

I still to this day don't even know what to make of this. A few more weeks had passed and things had almost gone back to normal, except not quite. Since that night, there seemed to be a thick tension in the air. Something had shifted. My fiancé seemed tense and easily irritable, which was very against her nature. She would fly off the handle as things just a few weeks prior she wouldn't think twice about. She just didn't seem herself. The next experience that happened

follows a few weeks later. It was intense and before I say the following I need the reader to understand that this is the truth. This still haunts me to this day. The details are a little blurry because I honestly tried to push it out of my mind as best as I could, yet it still messes with me to this day. Okay, so it started as a regular evening. I had just gotten home from work and my fiancé and I were relaxing downstairs in the living room watching television. Everything seemed normal. However, at some point I noticed my fiancé had put on some headphones and was listening to music pretty loudly. Now at this time I really didn't think anything of it. However this was strange because she hadn't really done that before.

Especially since we were both watching television together it kind of just seemed peculiar but I just brushed it off. However she just seemed really agitated towards me. I remember thinking if I had done something to upset her, trying to rack my brain as I sat there but I truly couldn't think of anything. So again, I brushed it off. A few hours go by and she just seems increasingly agitated, to the point where she basically won't look at me. She is sitting in the corner of the couch listening to loud music, ignoring me. It starts to unsettle me so I begin to ask her what's wrong. She loses it. She starts to throw things at me, screaming at me, and we fight over what, until this day, I cannot for the life of me think of. I don't remember

even what the argument was about, like at all. It was such a blur. However, the next thing I remember, she storms upstairs. Me, still upset and confused, I stay downstairs and continue watching TV, letting her go to give her a space. Maybe 30 minutes to an hour go by and I go to check on her. I find her upstairs in our bedroom on the floor, in the pitch black, crying on the floor. I go to ask her what's wrong but she doesn't answer. She continues to cry on the floor for a few more minutes. I continue to try to comfort her but it's almost as if she doesn't even notice I'm there. She then stands directly up, almost in a trance, and begins shuffling around the house slowly. I follow her asking what she's doing but she never gives me a reply. She just

continues shuffling slowly around the house with a strange look on her face. She goes from our upstairs bedroom down the stairs to our kitchen on the middle floor. She then goes to the banisters in the kitchen and drops to her knees and begins banging her head on them. At this point I know that something extremely strange is going down but I can't seem to help her or get her out of this trance like stage so I just follow her. I put my hands in front of her forehead so that she wasn't completely bashing her forehead on the banisters. I was pleading for her to stop and snap out of it but she completely ignored me as if though I wasn't there. She then stood back up and began walking upstairs. She goes into our bedroom, walks into our bathroom, walks into our closet and drops to her knees. At this point she is

sputtering out what seemed to be nonsense that I can't understand. She continues to bang her head on the carpeted closet floor. The whole time I'm trying to talk to her, get to her but to no avail. Eventually I'm over it. I'm freaked out beyond belief and I just want this to be over. So I grab her and try to lift her up. She begins almost hissing at me, trying to bite me. it frightens me but at this point i know that whatever is happening i can't just let her do this so i forcefully heard her downstairs the whole time she's cussing at me making very strange noises i get her to the downstairs living room and i put her on the couch at this point point, she starts laughing at me, almost evil like. However, I know my fiance and this wasn't her. The look on her face literally wasn't her

own. I could tell something had taken over her or something. So I put her on the couch, asking her what was going on and what was happening. I can remember her laughing, looking me in the face saying that she's gone. She kept saying it over and over again. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. At this point, I was terrified. I had seen enough scary movies to know what was happening. I told her that I don't accept that, and I kept trying to get to her. This happened for a few minutes, all the while I had to almost hold her on the couch. The next thing I know, she lunges at me trying to bite me. However, this time is different.

When she lunges towards me and grabs onto my shoulder, I feel this huge wave of energy that comes along with it. That's the best I can explain it, as a wave of energy. She makes contact with me. I feel this completely overwhelming wave of emotion and nausea. I immediately run to a trash can just a few feet away and begin dry heaving extremely heavy. No vomit comes out, but I feel so much come spilling out of my mouth yet I don't physically see anything. Seconds later I then begin crying uncontrollably, harder than I ever had cried in my entire life, just bawling. I crawl up in a ball, I'm just crying my eyes out. I can feel this extremely strange emotion inside of me that I can't even begin to explain but I just sit here on the floor and cry. I notice my fiance after I began vomiting

she collapsed to the floor. Even though I was crying my eyes out I can still remember the way she fell. It was like a rag doll being dropped. Her knees just buckled and she fell to the carpet. Seconds later she was gasping for air and crawled to me to comfort me. She then began saying I'm so sorry over and over again. It only took a minute or two but I left that house. I had to get out. The emotion that had taken over me was too overwhelming. I felt like I was emotionally drowning. I ran outside and my fiancé followed. As soon as I got outside I felt this feeling disappear. I felt normal again. Me and my fiancé just sat outside in our driveway until the morning came. Nothing that intense happened again the remainder of our lease there we moved out september of 2019 as soon as our lease was up however since that night we never

really felt safe in that house again i struggled to sleep under that roof again if i did the lights were on in only a few hours a night as someone who has always been a skeptic of the paranormal, I don't know what to make of this. I'm a science, fact-driven individual. However, no matter how hard I try, I cannot explain what happened. It was paranormal and it was terrifying and until this day it still haunts me and my family. Nothing has happened to us since we moved out of that house and I'm hoping it stays that way. I tell my story mostly just to vent because I have never told anyone this. It feels really good to get it off my chest but also if anyone has had any similar experiences and they feel they can't share with anyone I'm willing to listen. You're not alone.

My mother was a single parent of six, five girls and one boy. I was the youngest. We all opened up to the paranormal at an early age. This place in hollywood california in the late 60s she knew her kids were all different she was very supportive and never wanted to suppress our separate abilities she would just tell us not to go around telling people because they would think our family was crazy looking back at life with my mother i kind of tend to agree on so many levels something she always said stuck with me. People don't like what they can't understand. At the time we were renting a house on Alexandria but the owners wanted to move back in so we had to move.

Mom worked day hours so the only time she could go looking at rentals was at night. All six of us would pile into this big yellow wood panel station wagon and off we would go. The adventure began into the night. Most of the time a door was unlocked. This was the 60s. All of us armed with flashlights but we had to be quiet. The scariest times for me was when no doors were open so, me being the smallest, my brother would help me into a window so I could run to the door and open it for them. Now that I'm writing this I believe that was breaking and entering.

If there was a house that made any one of us uncomfortable she would scratch it off her list and move on. It was hard to find a house that fit all of us, especially anything my mother could afford. One day I came home from school and was surprised to see all of our stuff being moved to the house directly across the street, where an old evil lady with her windows blacked out lived in the back. I finally found my mother and asked her what was going on. She told me that she got a really good deal she couldn't pass up. Just stay away from that old lady, she told me that she got a really good deal she couldn't pass up. Just stay away from that old lady, she told me.

It was an old two-story house with wood floors, one bathroom and three bedrooms. It used to be four, but the fourth bedroom, but a small portion in the back, was divided to accommodate another renter, that old lady. I must add that I was young and very small for my age. There was so much room and so much commotion downstairs my mother was understandably distracted. I asked her why she didn't let me check the house for anything bad first and she said, Look baby, there wasn't any time. It was a good deal and I had to take it.

Why don't you check it out now? Feeling very important I went off to investigate. I went into the kitchen. Big. I went into the dining room. Fancy. And then I started up the stairs. Mom mentioned that there was a bedroom big enough for all my sisters,

a place for all my toys in the hall, and a room for my brothers, so I was excited to see this. The staircase was enclosed with a door at the bottom. You went up four steps to a landing where it turned and then proceeded up from there. I got up to the top step when they got me. It felt like three cold hands quickly one after the other around my throat with such force. I tried to scream but the grip was getting tighter. I thought my vocal cords were being crushed. They started forcing me backward and I felt like I was going to fall but they just held me there for what seemed like forever in my mind, my toes teetering on the edge of the top step. I couldn't move. It felt like surges of electricity throughout my body. Then they started guiding me

backwards down the steps, fearing at any moment I was going to be thrown. I saw little spurts of my own breath coming from my nose. As they were guiding me down, I could feel only the edge of the steps graze the tips of my toes while I was trying to grip one of them onto each step. They got me to the landing and up at the wall. It felt like a thousand weights were pressed against my chest, still hardly touching the floor. I was starting to pass out when I heard a voice in my head say to me, You are strong. You have faith. I saw a white glowing light all around me and I said the only word that came to my mind. Om. The universal sound of God.

They then lessened their grip ever so slightly but it was enough for me to drop to the floor and run down to my mother. Please mom, please we can't live here, please. I told her what happened but she said it was too late. We had nowhere else to go. It wasn't long before everyone else in the family had their own experiences. We all hated that house but we had to endure it until we could afford to move again. My brother liked to tinker, take things apart and see how they worked if you will. He took the time to sometimes share that part of his life with me. I'd like to think that's where I got my inventor's mind and my ability to fix almost anything.

He set up a workshop under the stairs in the basement. I sometimes found some of my electronic toys being dissected and put back together on that workbench. One day I was looking for one of my toys and suspected I knew right where to look, but I was scared to go down into the basement alone so I took my trusted cat Friska. He'll protect me I thought. I started down the stairs with my cat in my arms. I got almost to the bottom of the step when the light went out and the door to the house slammed shut. Scared to death I felt for the railing and started to run back up when I saw something. Normally you could see the moonlight from under the house through the vents to the outside. Something moving was blocking the light out and quickly coming towards me.

It almost looked like billowing black smoke from the back of the house. Just then my loving cat Friska hissed and clawed me to get away he jumped from my arms and escaped through one of the grates on the other side I ran up the stairs as fast as I could with my heart pounding out of my chest I grabbed the door handle and jiggling it back and forth thinking it was stuck I heard a loud long exhale behind me followed by the smell of rotten eggs. The door finally opened and I slammed and locked it behind me. I told my brother he said that he never felt good down there and he kept the door always locked after that. My family was very involved in the church. We cleaned it every Saturday and helped with all the events and variety shows. Funny thing was that our family was so big

it felt like we were the variety show. One such day they were all at church doing something, I don't remember what. I had just arrived home from school and someone, I think one of my sisters, was supposed to be there to greet me. Now this event happened in the hall. As you walked through the dining room on the left you walked into the hall. You turn right and on the left is the boarded up wall to the tenants dwelling behind us. That evil old lady. Just thinking about her now gives me chills and straight ahead was the bathroom. If you turn left in the hall you see my mom's room that she and I shared together. Next to that the door to the upstairs and in the middle the door to under the house.

Well no one was there and I wasn't going to stay in the house alone so I walked into the hall and sat on the phone bench. For those of you who don't know what that is, it looks like it's a wooden end table with a padded seat on it so you can talk on a corded phone. Anyway, earlier I saw my friend's dad's car parked across the street so I knew my friend was home. I figured I could call him and hang out there. I could just wait for someone to come home. As I am sitting there I hear crackling coming from upstairs. It must have been one of my siblings I thought so I went to the bottom of the stairs and leaned in on one foot. Who's up there? The crackling stopped. Thinking they didn't hear me I yelled again this time

calling out a few of my sister's names. Still nothing. So I sat back down on the bench and waited for them to come down. It was quiet, not a sound. Just then to the right of me it sounded like someone was pressing their body against the other side of the boarded up wall listening. Then a muffled, quiet, evil giggle. It felt off. Really off. The crackling noise started back up again, now coming from the top of the stairs followed by an ear piercing ringing inside my head. Feeling uncomfortable, I picked up the phone, not taking my eyes off that staircase.

I dialed my friend's number and before I could even say hello, I could see it as it turned the corner of the staircase. It was huge. It didn't have a human form. There were what looked like hundreds of eyes all over. It was pulsating red to amber. Then deafening sound crackling was coming from it with sparks flashing all over its form. It was slowly gliding down the stairs coming towards me. I then heard more prominent laughter almost like a cackle coming from behind that wall and I ran. I dropped the phone and ran straight over to my friend's house until someone came home.

Now please keep in mind that we only lasted six months in this house so these are all the events that I know of within that time frame and was confirmed to me by my siblings first hand. A brief description of where this next event took place. It was the second floor. Standing at the top of the stairs, to the left toward the back of the house was my brother's room. Inside the door to the right was a short wall and the foot of his bed alongside of his bed was a window. All of his beds in our house always faced east, then a desk next to his bed, then an open space at the back corner of the closet. On the right of the stairs was all of my sister's room. It was long and big and set up as follows.

Closet to the far right, then lined from right to left, four single mattresses on the floor next to each other with all heads to the east, then a window. My family were all avid readers. Well, that's pretty much all you could do back then. Late one night about 2am my sisters were all laying on their beds reading when my brother burst open the door white as a ghost, grabbing his neck, gasping for air frantically telling them all to go downstairs. He briefly shared his experience then ran out of the room. At that point he ran downstairs to wake up my mother. I witnessed this because I shared a room with her. Actually one of the beds upstairs was supposed to be mine but I always complain about seeing a man hanging from a rope over the staircase landing. Plus, I had too many experiences up there myself. The door swung open, slamming against the wall.

He was standing there in a white t-shirt and PJ pants. There was no color in his face and his neck looked like it was on fire. He said that he was just falling asleep when he felt a negative presence. Something caught his eye in the back corner of the room. It was the full body apparition of an old man and there was hate emanating from him. He started to sit up but the man flew at him from across the room. He tried to describe it as it was quick, like one second he was there and the next he was on top of him so fast the curtains and everything else in the room were affected like a

big burst of wind. He grabbed his neck with both hands gripping tight and was choking the life out of him. He said he was nose to nose with this thing and to this day can't shake the evil image of his face. My sister and I both remember him saying at that time that the man in a guttural voice said, I want your body. My mother put a cold rag on his neck and calmed him down. We all remember dark bruises in the shape of two hands stayed on his neck and chest for over a week and he never slept upstairs again. Through the years he never wanted to talk about this until I told him I was writing our story. Now on that night all my sisters brought down their bedding except one. She was headstrong and stubborn. She was the cut the nonsense it's

all in your head type of person until it happened to her. My eldest sister tried warning her that on numerous occasions she saw something dark lurking in the closet and that one night she woke up to something pressing in on her while she was sleeping but that didn't deter her. We were all dramatic and crazy. She was happy. She got that big room all to herself. Well one day she was upstairs taking a nap. She never slept without the fan on. The fan was located all the way across the room in front of that closet. The fan was round in the shape of a fat can. It was about 17 inches tall and 14 inches wide with slats going around it about 2 inches apart with big metal blades. My sister always slept with her arm extended out from under her pillow. She said that she was sound asleep. All of a sudden she woke up to her finger

being sliced by the blades of the fan in extreme pain. She pulled her hand out of the fan and ran downstairs to our mother. I remember that there was a lot of blood. My mother then wrapped her hand with gauze and papaya so as to eliminate scarring and we all went up to investigate. The fan was still there but it was unplugged. We couldn't understand how it even got over to her. We had shag carpet in the 60s so it couldn't have vibrated. Plus it would have had to have traveled over some articles of clothing that would have stopped about five feet away from the bed. You know, after having that happen to you and the fact that your entire family is now sleeping together downstairs and the fact that she saw the fan was unplugged,

wouldn't that make you say uncle and join them downstairs in the living room? Nope, not her. She stayed sleeping up there for about a month until she was forced to believe us. By this time, she had made the room her own. She took two of the mattresses and put them on top of each other and put them both long ways under the window. She told me that she was in the beginning stages of dream state when she was fully awakened by pressure on her chest. It felt dark and evil. She couldn't move. All these things were racing through her head when she remembered what our minister told her when we were in council about this house.

He told her to try to communicate with it, ask if it would follow her spirit guide into the light, and the pressure started to get worse. The more love she sent, the heavier it got. She said that it felt like a cement slab crushing her body and expelling all of her air. I asked her how she got out from under it and she told me that she prayed and said some things our minister told us to say and it lifted. For the rest of the time we were there, she slept in the living room with us. We found out that a man did hang himself on the stairway and someone shot themselves in the closet upstairs. As for the old lady in the back, she was a very bad alcoholic who practiced the dark arts and voodoo. She blackened out all of her windows to keep the energy happy,

she told the neighbor. No one paid her any mind. They all thought she was just a crazy old lady. I often wondered who she was before this and what made her that way. What was so bad in her life that made her want to torment others and even worse innocent children? Was the evil man in my brother's room connected to her in some way? I guess I will never know. Our minister told us that the house could never truly be cleansed until she was gone. Ever since my young childhood, it has been the family knowledge, joke, inside secret, whatever, that there is the ghost of a witch living in my maternal grandmother's upstairs level.

My older cousin, who is now in her thirties, claims she remembers seeing the ghost of the witch as a child, and from then, even to this day, is petrified of this stairwell and will not go up for any reason. My slightly older cousin, who is now twenty, says she has been terrified with stories of seeing the witch for years, but she, like myself, was slightly more curious about it. Then I, a few years younger than I, was raised with the same tales. So she and I used to climb the stairs together at night time with all the lights out in hopes of being able to confront this witch ghost. It had all started with my grandmother sometime in the 80s. My grandmother, my mother and her siblings and my late grandfather moved into the two-story house in the early 80s. The house was

under new construction when they purchased the house. My mother often boasts of how she was the one who picked the house. She was a child at the time and thought the unfinished house was beautiful. My grandmother and grandfather considered her opinion and gave it a look and ended up purchasing it. My grandmother has always been a person who believes in the paranormal. In her younger days she played around with things like the Ouija board and tarot cards but was never avid about it, just light stuff. Her interest in such things though spawned from learning about the heritage of the females in our family. They had been witches killed during the Salem witch trials.

In fact, one of the very last witch hangings was held about five minutes from my current home. My grandmother's mother was always accused by the whole family of being a witch. This accusation may have had something to do with the fact that she was heavily abusive to my grandmother when she was young, fed her rat poison, beat the life out of her on her wedding night, constantly emotionally abused her, etc. It has always been believed that her house was cursed. I only met this wicked woman about three times and there was always something off about her. She could convince you that she was the sweetest old woman in the world and hide perfectly how abusive she was to her daughter and her

husband. Naturally when my grandmother found that we are descendants from witches she considered the possibility of her mother being one more seriously. My grandmother moved her Ouija board and her tarot cards and her books about ghosts into this new house in the 80s and only after a year or so did strange things begin to happen. My mother and my grandmother both remember the first occasion of something strange. My grandmother was carrying a laundry basket up the stairs and suddenly she could no longer continue up. She said it felt as if someone was standing in front of her, forceful as a wall and not allowing her to continue. She physically could not continue up the stairs. She said that the force felt cold and hot at the same time.

My mother says she remembers my grandmother trying her hardest to push against it, but not being allowed through. My grandmother calmly said, alright, let me through, and the force disappeared. It terrified my mother and she said it was chilling how calm my grandmother was about it. My grandmother would often have her girlfriends over for tea as her house is rather large with two living rooms and decorative old-fashioned charm. It's similar to a small mansion and she has quite a collection of tea and antique pots and cups. One tea party in the afternoon though would be the first visual sighting of the ghost of the witch. She was having tea with a few of her friends, all ladies, when one of the ladies looked up and over my grandmother's shoulder.

She smiled at something behind her, then returned her eyes to my grandmother and asked, Who's your other guest? I've never met her before. My grandmother thought someone else had showed, but she'd not invited anyone else. She turned around and saw that nothing was there. Her friends then began convincing my grandmother that they weren't crazy. They'd all seen her and described her as an old lady with long wavy gray hair that's messy and a dirty dress and with the saddest, most confused looking expression on her face. Though she found it quite interesting and she did believe her friends, she remained still calm about this experience.

Those girlfriends of hers suddenly no longer wanted to come over to her house anymore. My grandfather passed away and several years later my grandmother remarried. Neither of them ever experienced anything or felt anything off about the house. None of the men who ever entered the house felt or saw anything at all. Some of the men are skeptics and some are believers but regardless none of them ever saw anything. It seemed the ghost of the witch would only present herself to the women of the family or women visitors. Given her heritage it would make sense. My grandmother who is still haunted by this ghost witch has never had an explanation

as to why everyone began regarding her as the witch. She simply says that she felt the lady was a witch. My oldest cousin, the one who is now 30, was the second one to visually see this ghostly lady. She was a teenager at the time she saw it, about to be 20. She was alone in the house on Christmas night while everyone sat outside in the large garage. The family often sat out there when they smoked and spent hours there. My cousin claimed that she was going up the stairs to use the bathroom, too embarrassed to use the one on the first floor. She didn't feel like turning the light on so she just carefully walked up guided by the light of the downstairs Christmas tree. It was then that she said she saw an old woman with a sorrowful expression and long wavy gray hair walk slowly past her at the top of

the stairs. She walked away into the computer room which was once my mother's bedroom. It's currently and was when my cousin had her experience a room full of mirrors and antiques and my great-grandmother's belongings. My cousin said that the old lady walked to that room and she refused to climb the stairs and investigate. She ran out of the house crying to her father that there was a ghost. He didn't believe her and laughed it off. She was plagued with nightmares for the longest time and currently refuses to go anywhere near the stairwell. After these occasions with the witch, she'd become a household name and my older cousin and I were raised on the spooky tales.

This was one of the many things that had embedded a fascination with the paranormal and morbid into my mind from a young age. My grandmother would tell only the young ladies of the house these stories as the men thought she was crazy regardless of their beliefs on the paranormal simply because they'd never seen anything in the house. My grandmother told my older cousin and I the story of the night that one of her taxidermied birds came back to life for a few minutes. My grandmother and her new husband were both avid hunters and went duck hunting often, as well as fishing in ponds at night time. They had their best catch stuffed by a taxidermist and placed in a glass box. The stuffed bird sat atop on a cabinet in the computer room, the one the witch apparently walked to.

She said that she and her husband were asleep one night when they were startled awake by a loud sound. The sound was of hundreds of birds chirping and screeching and flying. They thought that some birds had attacked their attic and gotten stuck inside, so that was the first place she checked. Nothing was inside though, not a single bird. The sound continued though and it seemed to be coming from no specific place. She couldn't locate the sound. She went to open the computer room's door and when she did, deafening silence fell over the house and not a single chirp was heard.

She found the taxidermy bird on the floor, the glass box busted into tiny crystals on the floor. This story and the infamous witch story led my curious cousin and I to venture into the computer room as many times as we could. My oldest cousin called us crazy but we called us brave and curious. We only liked to go up at night because it created a better ambiance and we felt we had a better chance of seeing something terrifying for ourselves. We played with antique mirrors, dug through old wooden trunks in search of my grandmother's Ouija board, and did ghost chants and witch spells that we found online. When that got boring and came with no results We got on Microsoft Word

I'm talking old school with Clippy the paperclip dude And wrote murder mystery stories We'd write the most gore filled story we could imagine Then print it out on my grandmother's printer And hide several copies of it around the house to creep people out Sometimes the very old desktop computer would take control of itself and start searching for things on its own. We witness it type in a series of confusing codes and numbers then pull up various pictures of headstones and scroll quickly through them.

We didn't scream and run out as our oldest cousin would have, we simply watched in silence. The computer abruptly shut off and our only fear was that we'd get in trouble for breaking our grandmother's computer. The lights would turn on and off in the room not as if flickering though. They turned off and on dutifully as if someone was doing it on purpose. Strange sounds came from the floor like scratching and bumping and the mirror always seemed to be in a different spot every time we turned around to look at it. Books fell off shelves and the other newer computer kept on the other side of the room would fire up by itself. Before my older cousin and I ever really delved into the witch story, she grew up.

She was only a few years older than me but her interests turned to boys and being popular in school. She had her first slide phone and stopped paying me any attention at all. We'd once been close but her own social standards forced us apart and she rarely spoke to me. She was rarely mean to me but she acknowledged me only on holidays. She evolved into a preppy popular girl while I spiraled into a paranormal-obsessed young teenager who scoured the internet for gore and supernatural. And I still ventured on my own into the computer room upstairs. My fascination for the paranormal was deeper than that of my cousins.

Hers had just been a phase. Mine had been my entire life. Both sides of my family believe in ghosts and each have stories of their own experiences. The only skeptic, surprisingly, is my mother. She does admit, though, that she only doesn't believe because she tries not to, because she's scared to. My father, on the other hand, was my biggest supplier of creepy stories and he always told me if you go looking for something you'll find it sooner or later because he knew how badly I wanted to explore ghosts. So I never stopped looking in my grandmother's house. My great-grandmother,

nearly 102 years old at that time, was placed into a nursing home. Because her house couldn't be afforded and all the money was going to the nursing home and the house to the state, there was an occasion where the family was invited to go collect some things from her house, anything that we liked because they were going to get thrown away anyway. I went and took some creepy old dolls from the 20s and my mother took some sentimental items. When I was in my great grandmother's bedroom alone, staring into the large Victorian mirror of hers, chills rushed through me and I leapt when I saw a shadow dart behind me. I turned around in search for what had made the shadow but

the strong smell of garlic and burning wood dizzied me and forced me to leave the room. The presence felt sad and angry at the same time. My aunt, who had more business knowledge than any of us at the time, was helping my grandmother close the probate on the house. It was her job to keep the house in good condition, so she had to visit it alone frequently. On the last day of having to go inside, she went to take the one item that she had wanted from the estate, a vintage lamp that reminded her of her seventies childhood. She took the lamp and bid the house a relieved farewell. She locked the house up behind her and suddenly a massive bolt of lightning struck the yard just in front of her.

The rain began to pour and the wind began to howl, blackened clouds bruising the sky above her and making a great rage of storm. She quickly tried to unlock the house, but the key seemed to not even fit in the doorknob anymore, even though she just used it. The door opened on its own after she pulled the key away from it. She ran inside to shelter from the rain and sat the lamp down. She claimed she saw something run through the kitchen from the corner of her eye and,

with the witch rumors about her wicked grandmother, decided to leave the lamp. She closed the door behind her, leaving the lamp. When she stepped out onto the front porch, the rain had stopped and there wasn't even a breeze. The sky cleared and there wasn't a cloud in the lamp. When she stepped out onto the front porch, the rain had stopped and there wasn't even a breeze. The sky cleared and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. She still claims to this day that her grandmother's house was cursed. A few years later, my great-grandmother died. I attended the funeral and my family makes jokes the whole time. My grandmother was hardly sad that this day had come, as she had had to take care of the wicked woman who abused her. She took care of her every need every day from her 70th birthday until her

death at 102. She was relieved and when the funeral home workers apologized and gave condolences we all looked at one another. My aunt stepping out of the restroom while the big ivory casket was being rolled into the chapel accidentally whacked it with the door and nearly knocked it over nearly killing all of us as we struggled not to bust into laughter. It was the most humorous funeral I'd ever attended in my life. After her death my grandmother was plagued with nightmares of her mother coming back to haunt her or being trapped with her in the afterlife. One night she found her husband walking around the house with a shotgun in his hand. She asked him what he was doing and he looked terrified. This was the first occasion when a man in the house had experienced something paranormal inside

it. He was shaking and he shouted to my grandmother that your mother is here. She begged him what he was talking about and he explained, I smell her, I feel her, your mother is here, don't you smell that? Her mother had always worn the same perfume, Elizabeth Taylor's White Diamonds. It was the only perfume she'd ever worn and she spritzed it on herself heavily every day, sometimes twice a day. It was a scent that had sickened my grandmother's husband for the whole time he'd known the old lady. My grandmother recently tried to give us some of her mother's old jewelry because she wanted it out of her house so badly.

She claimed it was cursed. I believed her, my aunt certainly believed her, and my older cousin, though so long separated from our experiences as children, refused to take the jewelry. I thought of taking it, but I already own a piece of jewelry that was passed down through the women of our family, through all the witches. It's a sapphire ring that saw several generations, and for a reason I find more than coincidental ended up with me. After my great-grandmother gave it to my grandmother she gave it to my mother before I was born and said give this to her. My mother didn't even know she was having me a girl yet. She asked her mother how she could assume I was a girl and my grandmother simply said just give this to her. And well here I am a very paranormal type of girl wearing the witchy sapphire

ring today. I haven't seen my oldest cousin in several years. The last time I saw her was at someone's funeral. She's a drug addict and she moved far away. My older cousin got married and moved away and hasn't given the paranormal a second thought. It seems now that her memories have been completely erased when the topic of the witch and the computer rumor brought up. It's as if she's a different person. My grandmother's friends never come around anymore and whether they admit it or not, it's because of that ghostly witch. My mother thinks that my grandmother and I are crazy, but it seems we're simply more sensitive to these types of things. Recently, my grandmother said that she was in a store when a short, polite old woman approached her.

She was in an all-white robe and she was shockingly pale, and she was friendly and exuded calm and happiness. She asked my grandmother to direct her to the exit, as she couldn't find it. When she was about to tell her where the exit was, the glowing white woman disappeared in the thin air. Nobody believes her but me. I have my own Ouija board, tarot cards, crystals, mirrors, antique objects, antique dolls, dousing rods, EMF meters, and EVP readers. For about three years, I obsessively tried to contact one particular ghost, and it wouldn't surprise me if I opened the doors to something else in the meantime,

especially when considering the lengths I've gone to. I still try to contact this particular ghost, and for now he only reaches out to me in my dreams, but if you go looking long enough, you're bound to find. This happened in Myanmar, year 2005. I was in early teens and on the way back home from a family vacation somewhere in eastern Myanmar. They didn't have modern motorways like they do now, so the highway we took was built along villages and farms, and so on, and you could stop anywhere you like. People who were involved were me, my parents, my aunt and my cousin, my older sister and our driver. We were driving home

on that old highway overnight and around 3am our driver got unusually sleepy. This was strange because he was sleeping all day prior to the drive and used to night driving throughout this trip. So my father took over and he got really sleepy within minutes as well. I was up while everyone was asleep because I really needed to use the bathroom so I knew what was happening. So my dad decided to stop the car near a shelter called Zayet in Burmese. You can find those pretty much everywhere in the villages and they serve various purposes. There were two huge benches in there, big enough to lay down in.

I cannot remember the exact location but it was somewhere remote near Nipido, the current capital that wasn't built then. Firstly the driver went outside the car to rest on the bench and then I went out. My sister followed me and also my dad. There wasn't any light except from our torches and there were no other cars on the road so we didn't see what was around. Anyway, dad, me and my sister were resting on the other bench and suddenly we all fell asleep, like out of nowhere, as we didn't even do our business. And then my sister and I woke up because we thought someone woke us up and I looked at my watch and it was 3.30am so we weren't sleeping for very long. Everyone was still asleep so I woke the other two up as I didn't feel right about something so we quickly went back inside the car and locked the doors and fell asleep right away again. I had a nightmare which felt very,

very real. I saw a Burmese mythology monster called Belu, a shapeshifter knocking my window trying to get inside to get us as that was the village of death. She was laughing creepily and knocking all around to let her in and it felt like hours. I woke up screaming. So were the other three who went outside the car. I looked at my watch and it was now 5am. It was then bright enough to see where we were. That place was filled with ruins of pagodas and old cemetery. Dad and the driver quickly came inside and we drove off right away. My mom asked what was going on and I told her about my dream and my sister was like, oh god, you too? She had the same sort of dream but she saw a bunch of people carrying dead bodies

and she asked them where she was and they said it was the village of death and laughed at her creepily and they tried to get her so she ran away. My dad and the driver had some sort of dreams about the village of death as well but with different types of monsters or ghosts in it. We realized that shelter we went was a place where they did funerals or prayers for the dead before they were buried or cremated. After a minute or so of driving we saw a recent car crash site, broken landmarks, flowers and it made us even more freaked out. The strange thing was that my mom, cousin and my aunt didn't have any dreams so only who went outside had those creepy dreams and our dreams were connected and felt really real. The excessive sleepiness was also very strange as we weren't that tired to be knocked out instantly.

Anyway, they were just dreams but the whole area and connected dreams gave creepy vibes and I still get goosebumps thinking about it. So it was around December 2013 and I was at university studying psychology. I was having a rough patch at the time with my OCD but certainly no hallucinations or any psychotic symptoms. One of my best friends was studying the same course with me and she would drive both of us to and from university about an hour's commute. Like I said it was around December 2013 and I decided to go to the toilet before heading home. We came from a lecture and the building was closing. Every other building was closed except for the main reception area so I decided to use the toilet in there.

It was around 6 to 6.30 and the receptionist had already left. A janitor would come and lock the building at around 6.30 onward. So I head into the reception area and turn to the right to the toilets. There's a heavy fire door and you walk down a long hallway and at the end is a classroom that was empty and locked. On the right are offices, also no lights on and locked I assume. I have a genetic condition that affects my bones so I've always used the disabled toilet and I get quite anxious when I have to use the regular toilets. I don't know why. So I try to open the disabled toilets and it's locked. I figured no one is in the men's toilet so I decided to use that toilet. Again the building is practically closed so I assume no one is going to be in there.

I open the door and a silver haired man with a suit on stands there looking at himself in the mirror. I didn't feel frightened but as I went to take a step in he looked at me and smiled and for some reason I backed out and went to close the door. He shouted no and headed towards the door. I shut it fully and went to head back out the fire doors but then realized the disabled toilet was open and nobody had came out. The toilets are all within a few feet of each other and there's no way someone could have left that quick. I decided to go back into the men's toilet as I felt silly for backing out scared and when I opened the door the man's no longer there. I walk in the toilet and look around and even look in the cubicles and there was no one there. I don't the toilet and look around and even look in the cubicles and there

was no one there. I don't think I even peed. I went out through the fire doors and my friends were there sitting on some chairs. She'd been there the whole time and I ask her if she saw anyone come out toilets or anyone leave the building. She says no and I don't want to appear crazy so I don't ask any follow-up questions. It would be impossible for someone to leave any other way. There is one entrance to the building and my friend was sitting near the entrance. Anyways it's 3am. I've grown bored of myself wittering on so I'm just gonna head to bed and ask if any of you guys have any ideas of what could have happened. Over the years that passed, my nan's mind started to go.

She started seeing things more and more. My family were all saying she's getting dementia which I believe too. One night we got a phone call that she was found by the police walking the streets holding a clock. It was the start of her getting actual dementia. She got worse and worse as the months passed and had to be put in a nursing home which meant we had to get all of her possessions from her house and take them to her new residence. I hated it. I never liked that house. It always seemed like someone was watching you. While we were getting all of her stuff, which took four days, weird things started happening.

Like boxes that were stacked maybe three cardboard boxes on top of each other, the size you would get if you got a PC, the top one would fall. But it wouldn't land next to where it should have. It was maybe two to three feet away from the other boxes. This didn't happen just the once, it happened six times. Each time the box would land facing up, my dad, who doesn't believe in anything paranormal, just brushed it off as the boxes being uneven with the stuff inside. Yeah, okay, I'll go with that. On the third day of moving her stuff, we had to carry the sofa and armchair out. So me and my dad were lifting it and my uncle was in another room wrapping ornaments and newspaper. As we were getting ready to lift it, my dad's face turned white and he nodded in the direction of the armchair. There was an imprint

in it that looked like someone was sitting on it and leaning on the arm part. The leather was moving. Not a lot, only slightly. But that was enough for my dad to walk out of the house. He said he needed fresh air. We went outside and we were talking about it. I was bragging like, see, do you believe the house is messed up now? He tried to brush it off as maybe one of us had sat on it and it was moving back to its original position. As we were standing outside I was smoking and just happened to look up. The blinds upstairs moved like someone was watching us and

then moved away. My dad didn't see it and again tried to say there was a rational explanation. The fourth day was the last day I ever spent in that house and it was the worst time of my life. We were in my nan's bedroom and had to move her bed and wardrobe out. My dad and uncle grabbed the wardrobe and moved it out and into the van. Then came the words I'll never forget. Hey, you stay here while we take this. Put all the clothes and bin bags, please. Oh no. I walked up those stairs like I was walking to the electric chair. I walked in my nan's room and closed the door. I had already

seen shadows and other things walk past doorways over the years I'd been there and didn't want to see another one. I was in her room packing her stuff away and think of how she won't ever remember who I am or that she's my nan. I packed three bags to the point they were almost bursting and sat on the bed. Then I heard noises like someone was in the attic moving. My stomach felt like it was turning and my heart was beating so fast. Then I heard what sounded like talking from the next room. It wasn't loud. It was like whispering, but sounded almost normal.

I can't really explain it. It was just one voice talking, but sounded like it was having a conversation. It was a male voice. I listened to that voice for about 20 to 30 seconds and then it stopped. I couldn't make out anything it had said except there's no point and just leave her over there. A few weeks passed and I had visited my nan in the nursing home. She didn't remember who I was but I'd still say hello nan you okay today? Her response was always the same, yeah I'm okay mate. Except this day I said good morning Nan and she said, Anthony where have you been, it's late. I felt so happy

knowing she remembered my name for that one day. As time has gone on she's gotten a bit worse, she tells me things about that house and other things but I don't know if it's just because of the dementia, or if it's true. A few of the members here wanted to know if I had any more stories about that house. I said I would compile a list of the things that happened to me and other people, so here are all the incidents that I can remember. When I was around 10 to 12 years old, I used to stay in my nuns each night until my dad finished work and could pick me up. I used to hate it. Once it got dark, that house felt weird. There was a room underneath the stairs. It was just a door with a space for all your junk like vacuums, brushes, mops, that sort of stuff. One time I stayed, my nan was sick so she got off to bed earlier than usual because her medication made her sleepy.

This one week I stayed there, I was sitting downstairs watching TV and all of a sudden this weird sensation hit me like someone was watching me. Nobody else was in the house apart from us two. Then I heard the door to the room under the stairs pop open. It opened to about three inches and stopped. My face became hotter than the sun and I tried to pretend I was still concentrating on the TV but my ears would not stop listening for something else. After I had calmed down and stopped panicking, about four minutes later I stood up and slowly turned around. It was the only door that was open. I went to close the door and as soon as my hand touched the handle, something inside the room fell, like a mop had been knocked

over and to another object. I ran up the stairs, screaming for my nan. I was such a brave child. My nan convinced me it was a faulty lock on the door, and it was just by chance it happened to fall when I touched the door handle. My cousin lived at my nan's. She adopted her when she was a baby since my aunt didn't want her. Not to try to throw personal stuff out there, but it's the easiest way to say it. She would occasionally go and see her real mother from time to time. When she was there and I was staying I was so relieved since not a lot seemed to happen. We used to stay up all night in her bedroom playing on her Super Nintendo, playing

Mario Kart and just eat junk food and have a good time. Every so often we'd hear something in the attic. I never really paid it any attention Since the sound didn't register with me at that moment It got really late and we ended up going to bed Then when it was quiet I heard the sounds again It was bin bags being dragged across the attic The attic was full of Christmas decorations and bin bags and boxes It wasn't the wind making them rustle

It was a heavy bin bag being pulled along the floor of the attic. Now around age 15, I was still staying in my nan's but only on a weekend. My cousin still lived there. She was 19 at this point. We still used to hang around sometimes since we were like brother and sister. By this point, I stupidly had took up smoking and confided in my cousin that I smoked. She said she would keep it a secret since I knew stuff about her too. She smoked too so every hour or so we would go and have a smoke by the back door. This is a short one when me and my friend went to the cinema we ran out of money

so we walked to my nan's house to phone a taxi and pay once I got to my house. While we were in there we were talking to my nan and our taxi arrived so we walked out the front door and I was in front and heard my friend shout what the I asked him what he was moaning about and he said he went to put his hood up and felt a hand sort of block it, pull his hood back down. Let me preface this by stating that I have always believed in the paranormal, often seeing apparitions in my childhood home.

When I was two years old, my family got a cat and he quickly became my cat, as he was too as well as I had the energy to keep up with him. While I was young, he would often wander the house at night, checking the whole family to make sure everything was in order. If I was sick, he would stay with me all the time, leaving only to take care of business before returning to my side. In fact one time he very well may have saved my life by doing this. I had been sick with a stomach bug and he had been asleep when I apparently vomited while laying on my back and I began choking. I went to my parents room and pestered my mom till she woke up and as I was still only

about three years old, my bedroom was right next to my parents' and she heard something was wrong. She went and got me figured out and everything was fine. Now as I said, I was young so that's what I've been told and can't completely testify to the validity of that but I feel it may be true as he was always a nurturing cat. Throughout the years he would sometimes be laying down on my bed with me or on the back of the couch behind my head and would suddenly arch his back in a way that cats do around threats. Every time this happened there would be nothing around that I could see and at the time didn't think much of it. Sadly he passed when we were 16 and I was heartbroken as he had been in my life for as long as I could remember up to that point.

We buried him in a lovely spot between two trees in my grandmother's backyard and I believe that was that. Yet throughout the rest of high school me, my mom and even my stepdad would often sometimes hear yowling hello in the same way he did when he was alive. If you haven't heard a cat make this noise, it can probably be easily found on YouTube. In late 2015, early 2016, when I was 18, I had moved into a duplex with a friend of mine. At this point, nothing paranormal had happened in my life for several months including the sounds of my cat. This was until one night as I lay in bed trying and failing as I so often do to go to sleep I felt like there was a presence in my room with me.

I opened my eyes and since I was laying on my back I had a pretty clear view of the room. One of my neighbors across the street had a security lamp that stayed on all night and the light would hit my window and give a small amount of illumination to my room. This is important because to the right of my bed, right in front of the window was a tall shadow figure of a man. Immediately an intense and powerful feeling of dread came over me. Now before continuing, I want to discount ideas of sleep paralysis. I know this wasn't sleep paralysis because I moved just moments before opening my eyes. As I said, I was struggling to get to sleep.

Another thing is that I didn't feel the weight that is accompanied by being paralyzed. I was simply paralyzed by fear. I truly thought this thing was there to kill me. As the figure began to slowly move closer to my bed, it lifted up one arm as if it was going to touch me. Then suddenly it stopped and the sense of dread washed away from me, replaced with a feeling of comfort. I watched as its gaze shifted from my face towards my chest, then followed with my eyes. There, standing just over my chest, was a large figure of a cat, with its back arched.

Instantly, I knew it was my cat. It simply felt like him. Looking back toward the shadow man, there was a wave of negative energy. Then he simply disappeared. The last thing I remember from that night was seeing the figure of my cat laying down beside me as he had so many times during my childhood before I finally was able to fall asleep. I think about that night every so often and it always makes me happy knowing that he is still out there, watching out for his family. and maybe even hear your story featured on the next video. And join my Discord to interact with me and other listeners directly. And if you want to support me even more, grab early access to all future narrations for just $1 a month on Patreon,

and maybe even pick up some Let's Read merch on Spreadshirt. 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. In Hindi, pinna te ni epsting ang sarili niya.