The Lets Read Podcast - 81: Episode 072 | Winter & Middle of Nowhere Stories | 24 True Scary Horror Stories
Episode Date: October 6, 2020Welcome to the seventy-second 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 horrify...ing stories about Winter, Car Chases & the Middle of Nowhere... HAVE A STORY TO SUBMIT?► www.Reddit.com/r/LetsReadOfficial FOLLOW ME ON - ► Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsread.official/ ► Twitter - https://twitter.com/LetsReadCreepy ►YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/c/letsreadofficial ♫ Background Music: Iron Cthulhu Apocalypse https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFvrqVSJE8E PATREON for EARLY ACCESS!►http://patreon.com/LetsRead
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Just this past month, I stumbled into a crazy scene I thought your listeners would like to hear about.
The end of last year, my company moved me to one of their smaller satellite offices in Minnesota.
Before moving here, I'd been working out at the Atlanta branch since I started with the company.
I'd been a southern boy from birth, and me and the cold never got along. As you can imagine, the second I stepped out of the airport, I was freezing my tail off. I couldn't believe
anyone wanted to be outside in this weather and any longer than they had to be. When I arrived at
the tail end of winter last year and was confronted with hordes of men with facial hair that had
icicles hanging from it and they acted like it was no big deal. I thought I'd been transferred to Siberia by mistake.
The morning this went down was November 11th. It was the coldest day we had so far and it just
happened to be the day my car wouldn't start. The office was only located about a mile and a half
from my apartment so I could walk it relatively fast.
If I was still in Atlanta, the journey would have been no problem but this was Minnesota and the temperature was well below freezing.
Before I set off, I called the office and asked if anyone was there who could pick me up but there wasn't.
I told them my predicament and they nonchalantly suggested I just walk
since it was a warm day. I couldn't speak for a moment. Warm I thought? Warm is 80 degrees.
Arguing would have been pointless so I hung up and prepared for a miserable walk to work.
Once I was sure I had enough layers on I headed out the door. I could only imagine how stupid I must have looked to the natives.
Wrapped up like a mummy from head to toe but by god I was freezing.
Really all I could do was put my head down and embrace the suck and that's what I did.
I had gotten about half a mile into my trip when I glanced over to a parking lot just to the right of me and noticed a bundle of clothes at the corner of an abandoned business.
My curiosity got the best of me and I walked over to see what it was.
I was a few feet away before I realized it was a person.
Then I got scared.
I've never seen a dead body before and this person likely was in this cold.
Just to be sure I timidly approached the body and rolled it over.
I was shocked to see it was a woman,
and she had been beaten badly about the head and face.
I touched her skin, and as I feared, she was ice cold.
Maybe because of what I'd seen on hundreds of movies and TV shows,
I thoughtlessly checked her pulse.
Amazingly, there was one.
It was very faint, but it was there.
I checked again just to be sure, and I was right.
I quickly pulled my phone out and called 911.
I assumed because we were so close to the police station, they were able to respond so fast.
The paramedics scooped her up and took off, leaving me to speak to the police.
After I explained the situation they were kind enough to drop me off at the office.
I was about an hour late but after I told everyone what happened, I became the hero of the office.
Even though all the attention embarrassed me a little, it did feel good to
have everyone's respect. When you're the new guy and nobody knows you, that takes a while to
achieve. Before I walked out of the office that afternoon, I called the hospital to see how the
woman was doing. It took a few minutes to get a hold of the person that knew what I was talking
about, but when I had, I found out that she had survived and was doing well.
Even the nurse I spoke to was amazed that she pulled through. She told me that she sees a
handful of exposure cases every year and the overwhelming majority as bad off as her didn't
survive. Later in the same week she became conscious enough to tell the police how she
ended up in that parking lot.
She claimed that she had been waiting for a friend and she had been attacked from behind.
But when I spoke to one of the officers involved with the case, he told me he believed she had been with a customer in his car,
and he had beaten her up and kicked her out of the car, probably leaving her for dead.
She had one or two arrests previously in her past,
so he believed it to be most likely the same scenario. All of this was off the record,
of course, like I was a reporter or something. Personally, I don't care how the poor woman
makes ends meet, I'm just happy she's alive and I hope she makes a full recovery in time
to get back to her family
for the holidays.
Winter is long and cold up here but fun nonetheless. As a child I would stay outside
all day playing in the snow and then have to soak my hands in warm water for 10 minutes just to get the feeling back in them.
Stupid or not, those were the best times of my life.
However, the winter I was in 5th grade, something horrible would be set in motion in my town.
School would just let out for Christmas break when the first body was found.
His name was Mike Keller and he
was a second grader from Mount Vernon. The reports on the news said that he had been beaten severely
but he also had multiple stab wounds that were determined to be the cause of death.
I can't say that the murder caused an uproar that would come later but it certainly got folks
attention. It didn't put a dent in my thick head.
If my mom mentioned it to me, I don't recall it.
My usual life continued unabated.
Day after day I would spend my time playing in the snow, only taking breaks to eat and play Minecraft.
Things didn't really ramp up until another kid was found.
This one turned out to be from my neck of the woods.
The police reports echoed that of the previous murder,
although the stab wounds were far more numerous than on the body of Keller.
Now was when the parents, county-wide, started taking the threat more seriously.
I'm sure every kid got the same speech I did,
warning of the dangers of talking to people
you didn't know.
When everyone would discover the truth behind the murders, it would be much more horrible
than they expected.
If any kid paid attention to their parents' warnings, I wasn't one of them.
My mom's words went in one ear and out the other.
Since the snow had long melted after Christmas day I had plans to meet
up with friends at our hand-built forts in the woods but when I got there the only people around
were two kids I didn't know very well. One was a seventh grader and the other was a year behind me.
He went to the same school as I did and the rumor was that he had been held back twice.
From the looks of him the rumors were true.
Despite only being slightly taller than me he was already showing signs of a mustache.
When it comes to the older kids I didn't know much about him other than he had a reputation for being mean to younger kids.
So the second I saw him I got very nervous. The two of them, whose names I'm not going to
mention here for the reason you will soon see, were acting like they were my best friends despite
never talking to me before. When the older boy asked me if my friends were on their way I foolishly
told the truth. If they weren't already at the fort they probably wouldn't be coming. This must have been the answer they were hoping for, because as soon as I said it, they began their attack.
The older boys sucker punched me to the ground.
I came very close to passing out.
Now I know if I had, I would have been number three on their hit list, but somehow I stayed awake.
I used a nearby tree to get to my feet
just in time to see the younger kid pull a folding knife from his pocket. The older kid
was swinging a wooden bat around. When they saw me stand up the older boy ran up to me and swung
for my head. I ducked but he was close enough to rip a lock of hair out when the bat hit the tree
above me. I figured the kid with the knife was coming after me next so lock of hair out when the bat hit the tree above me.
I figured the kid with the knife was coming after me next so I booked it out of there.
My legs were still a little rubbery but I knew if I stopped I was dead.
The older kid was right on my heels and my lungs were burning terribly.
However, I was fortunate to live on the edge of the woods and made it inside my house before they caught up with me. I ran into my mom and I breathlessly tried to explain what had just happened.
She understood enough to be upset and yelled for my dad to call the police.
My mom quickly explained the situation to him and he relayed it to the dispatcher.
The police came quick and I told them what had happened and who did it.
They had no problem finding the boys they must have known it was over for them and they both went home and waited
the brutality of the murders was taken into consideration
and it was decided to keep them in custody until their trials
naturally the DA wanted to try them as adults but they were just a bit too young since each
boy was blaming the other despite both being responsible they were tried separately neither
showed any remorse and as a result they were given life for each murder and 15 to 25 for the attempt
on my life had this happened just a few years earlier, they both would have been likely given life
without parole for each murder charge, but recent legislation states that an offender
cannot be given such a sentence if they committed their crime as a youthful offender.
Ultimately the legislation mattered not, both boys were transferred to the adult system at 21
and because of crimes they committed inside they probably won't ever get out.
And that's the way that I like it. It was glaringly obvious to everyone around at that time that
they weren't right in the head. It's just terrible that two young boys and almost me
had to lose their lives before something was done about it.
I've taken my yearly journey to the woods to hunt since I was 14.
Last year started just as every other one before had but it would end much
earlier and in a very different way than usual. Despite the weather being too warm for hunting
I was out at dawn on opening day like always. As the season drags on the deer get more skittish
so starting as early as you can can increase your chances. On the land I'd been hunting on for the
past seven years I had a small handful of preferred spots and this is where I was heading.
This spot was a tree stand setting roughly 30 feet high in an old oak that looked out across
one of three feed plots. I'd had good luck there more than once and hoped to have it again.
The drive out to the stand took about 15 minutes
from my cabin so I left an hour before dawn. I wanted to be on the stand just as the first bit
of light broke. As usual I parked my four-wheeler about 50 yards away and walked the rest of the
way in. I'm not sure if it makes any real difference but not making a bunch of noise
right next to where I'd be hunting seems like a wise idea so it's a practice I try to remember to do each time I hunt. Although I'd been up over an hour
and had a couple of cups of coffee I was probably a little groggy. I've never been a mornings type
of guy and once I retired I've gotten up when I woke up no certain time. So I slung my rifle
onto my back and began to climb. About three steps
from the top with the seat in sight one of my feet slipped from the ladder and I fell about 25 feet
onto my back. Somehow my rifle ended up next to me rather than under. There was no pain at first so
I figured I'd just get up and dust myself off. However, I discovered very quickly that at least one, if not both, legs were broken.
As I sat up to examine my legs, pain began shooting through my back and body.
It appeared then that in addition to broken legs, I had a major back injury.
My usual high pain tolerance was letting me down and the adrenaline was
beginning to wear off. I knew in a matter of minutes I was going to be screaming in pain.
I began feeling for my phone and soon found it in my chest pocket.
Luckily, I didn't land on my chest right.
Being out in the middle of nowhere didn't necessarily mean there wouldn't be any cell service.
In my neck of the woods, cell towers are more common than trees.
I dialed 911 and waited, but the call dropped.
The pain was making me very nauseous, and I was having a hard time concentrating.
It took me a moment to realize I was going to need to move if I had a chance of getting help.
I couldn't think of any other way, so I gritted my teeth and rolled over onto my stomach.
The pain very nearly caused me to pass out, but the stars soon passed, and I began pulling myself forward with my arms.
I had made it around 15 yards before I was forced to take a break.
Once I had pulled myself together, I tried to call 911 again but it was a no go.
I looked around and noticed I was still under the trees but there was a clearing not far away.
I gritted my teeth again and pulled myself toward it.
I had to take a couple of breaks but eventually I was in the open.
I crossed my fingers and pressed send.
The wait was agonizing but it finally began ringing and I was connected to a dispatcher.
The pain made the wait for help to arrive seem even longer but because of my location and clear directions they made it to me within 30 minutes.
As I laid there I watched the sunrise, thinking how beautiful a scene it was
to see. I only wished it was under better circumstances. By the time I was released
from the hospital a few days later, I would have two broken legs and a broken back which
really was crushed vertebrae. The legs would just have to heal with time but with my back I've had to
have a couple of those vertebrae fused. The surgery was done just a few months before this
year's hunting season started and you can be sure I was there waiting for the sun to rise on the
first morning. One thing has changed however. For the being, I'll be hunting from a blind on the ground.
There's no way I'm going to go another year with an empty freezer.
The arrival of cold weather is a thing I can look forward to every year.
However, the season has carried with it a tinge of pain for the last few years because it was about this time in 2014 when I lost the love of my life in a horrible car accident.
Melissa and I had met during my second year of college.
She was here behind me and would often seek me out when she had
questions regarding her classes. I finally told her, more in a joking way than anything,
that if I was going to keep helping her with schoolwork that she was going to owe me a date.
To my surprise and joy she agreed and we were soon living together. We had our shares of ups
and downs for the next few years but managed to stick it out until graduation. Once we were soon living together. We had our shares of ups and downs for the next few years,
but managed to stick it out until graduation. Once we were both out of school, we made the
next step and were married the following June. We weren't in a hurry to have any kids.
We both had new jobs and lacked the security we would gain with time.
When the time did come, we proudly announced
the impending arrival of our first child, a boy, just days after our third anniversary.
On the last week of March 2011, Jason Jr. came into our lives kicking and screaming and
I've never been happier. As you can imagine, life was hectic for a while. Not until 2013 did we have the energy
to go for one more which we decided at the time would likely be our last. Having more wasn't out
of the question in the future but for now it seemed wise. It didn't take long before we had
a new one on the way. Another boy according to the doctors. The news of another boy on the
way had me elated but I couldn't help feeling that my life was going too well. Despite my misgivings
I went ahead into life with both feet. After an especially grueling summer the arrival of fall
was a welcome change. Halloween was fun and Thanksgiving was the perfect excuse to gorge on food I wouldn't usually eat the rest of the year
We did decide to skip the Black Friday sales, choosing rather to begin our Christmas shopping the day after
The carnage involved has always struck me as stupid, so I put it off as long as I dare each year
Melissa thought it may be less hectic if we left Jason Jr. with his
grandparents and I agreed. They would surely love to spend some time with him and we would be able
to blow through the stores much quicker if it was just the two of us. I'm sure she added the last
part for my sake. She was well aware of how much I hated holiday shopping. The night prior had
been a hard freeze and many sections
of the road were dangerously slick because of the a-holes that left their sprinklers on.
I was very aware of the danger that this posed and drove as defensively as possible but
unfortunately it wasn't enough. Melissa and I were discussing something so I didn't see this big patch of ice at the curve
ahead of us. We had just exited off the highway so we were still going pretty fast. Just a little
way down the road was a curve and one side of that curve dropped off about 65 feet almost straight
down. I knew it was there but I wasn't paying attention. The area going into and out of the curve was a giant sheet of ice and I didn't see it at
the time.
When I did, rather than just let off the gas I reflexively tapped on the brake.
I estimate we were still going around 45 miles an hour when we hit it.
Because of my stupid driving, we slid quickly sideways, hit the curb, and flipped down the hill, spinning the whole time.
Since I didn't have my seatbelt on, I was thrown from the car, which was a 2004 Isuzu Rodeo, and knocked out.
I'm still unaware of how long I was unconscious, but it couldn't have been long.
When I opened my eyes, I realized I was at but it couldn't have been long. When I opened my eyes I realized
I was at the top of the hill. I strained to turn my head to see where the car had stopped and
eventually caught sight of it laying upside down at the bottom of the hill. The roof had been crushed
flat with the body and I couldn't see Melissa moving. I hoped at the time that she had also been thrown and survived, but
she had not. To make things more horrific, the rodeo caught fire a few minutes later and
there was nothing I could do but lay there with a broken body and watch my wife and future child
burn up, possibly even alive for all I knew. All I could do was sob uncontrollably until I passed
out again. I wouldn't regain consciousness completely until that night. The pain I was
feeling could only be matched by the grief I was feeling from the loss of my wife and child.
I called for the nurse and she came in and showed me how to work my morphine pump.
Once I was aware of it, I found myself pushing the button often.
Around midday the following day, I spoke to the doctors and then the police.
The doctors informed me that I had broken both of my legs, three vertebrae, and had a concussion among many other injuries.
Needless to say, I was going to have a long, hard road ahead of me.
The police had even more bad news to share. I hadn't bothered to ask about Melissa's condition.
I knew if she would have made it, somebody would have said something.
My hopes that she had been thrown free of the car were shot down. The only positive thing,
which you really can't call positive, was that she and
the child had died on impact with the ground. I attempted to soothe myself with the knowledge that
they at least hadn't burned alive, but it proved to be cold comfort.
Jason Jr. stayed with my folks during my holiday stay and once I was released,
they stayed with me a while to help me until I could function on my own.
I'm not going to say much about the funeral, it's still too painful of a thing to recall.
Since that time I've undergone two back surgeries and foresee at least one more in the future.
I was ruled to be disabled by social security and now live off the benefits I receive.
I'm also able to make a little on the side, doing tax consulting so Jason Jr. and I get by okay.
Jason Jr. was still too young to really remember his mother.
However, now that he's at that age to be aware of her absence, I tell him all I can about her. Make sure he knows how
much she loved him and maybe in a few years I'll tell him about his little brother too.
Every day I'm reminded of how much I lost that day, but then I realize how much I have gained.
My time with her may have been brief, but every moment of it was great.
We created a beautiful and bright boy together.
I'd say we did pretty good. I think Jason Jr. and I are... we're gonna... we're gonna be... alright. This happened to my dad back in the 60s when he was a kid.
He grew up with a brother and his parents in the rural part of Michigan.
I had asked him once or twice about his younger brother when I discovered he'd had one.
This is the story he told me of why he was missing from our lives.
This is, in his words, more or less.
We were the example of Hicks when I was growing up. My great-grandparents had come over from
Sweden back in the 1800s and nobody had left the farm since then except to fight in Europe.
Our lives depended on the weather and what the land could provide for us.
We didn't even get electricity until I was eight years old.
We did have automobiles, but they were usually old and worn out by the time they got to us.
Put together with bailing wire and stuff like that.
Well, my little brother Bill and I went out one morning, I think it was early February, to go hunt some rabbits for the pot. That should give you an idea of how poor we were back then but Bill and me we didn't know any
better. We never had to be asked twice to go hunting. That morning was incredibly cold and
it had snowed two or three inches overnight. I had on almost every bit of clothing I owned
and so did Bill. It was about 9 before we left the house.
We were headed to the woods that sat across the lake. The woods took up about 30 acres of our 50
and it was chock full of game, big and small. I was carrying the 410 and Bill had the 22.
Both of us had our pockets over full with extra ammo. Ammo was one of those things even poor
folks had a lot of back
then. We were kind of in a hurry because we got started later than normal and I wasn't paying as
close attention as I should have been. Between sun up and when we left, it had probably warmed
up about at least 20 degrees. We hadn't made it a hundred yards before we turned back to shed some
layers. Mama yelled at us to stop fooling around and get to hunting so my mind was on getting to the woods as fast as possible.
It took us about ten minutes to reach the lake.
The layer of snow on the top of the ice had already melted leaving the ice slicker than normal.
Under normal circumstances we would have stepped lightly as we crossed so as not to end up on our butts,
but this morning we were running late.
I slipped a couple of times and Bill, who was behind me a few steps,
had to hold onto my coat to stay upright on a few occasions.
I could see tracks leading into the trees as we got close and my pace began to pick up.
It was about 20 yards from the end of the ice when I heard a loud bang
quickly followed by a splash. I looked back to check on Bill, only to see that he disappeared.
I saw that a hole had broken through the ice roughly two feet across. It was clear what had
happened, so I did something that probably wasn't very wise and threw myself onto the ice.
I jammed my arms into the hole, reaching all around it, feeling for one of Bill's hands or arms.
It didn't take but less than a minute for my arms to start screaming in pain from the cold water.
I began panicking because I knew every second he was in that ice cold water he was less likely to come out. I didn't want to take my arm out of the water but I knew I couldn't stand the pain one moment more.
I stared at the hole hoping to see Bill pop out of it while I rubbed the feeling back into my arms.
I was just about to give up when I got the idea to break off a long tree limb and stick it down
in the hole. I found one and it took me a few seconds
to break it but once I had I ran back to the hole and stuck it into the water.
I'd switch sides of the hole every few seconds hoping I'd feel him grab onto the stick.
I carried on with this for a couple of minutes until I realized it was pointless. There was
nothing else I could do but run home and ask my papa for help.
I still had that last shred of hope that he would find a way to save him,
but when I ran into the house and told them what happened, his face said it all.
Seeing that expression on his face stripped me of that last shred and I collapsed onto the floor
and bawled like I never had before.
It only got worse when mama came in the room and papa gave her the news.
Her wailing only made my sadness and guilt, yes guilt, that much worse.
At some point that day I began to get an idea in my head that my folks may blame me for Bill's death.
They had both told me more than once that my job was to protect my little brother and I had screwed it up. After crying
myself to sleep that night, the next morning I was terrified to leave my room. I wasn't sure what was
going to happen to me. All kinds of ideas were swirling around in my head. At one point I had
even convinced myself that they'd give me away to an orphanage for being such an awful son.
It took my folks a few hours to convince me to come out and I only did when they promised that they weren't mad at me.
That didn't stop me from apologizing when I saw them.
They said it was just a terrible accident and nobody was to blame.
We all broke down after that and held each other and cried for a long time.
That scene would be played out a bunch of times over the next few weeks.
The thing that made things more painful perhaps was the wait for the lake to thaw before we could find Bill's body and bury it.
Finally around the last week of April it had
warmed up enough to retrieve his body from the lake and have the funeral.
Mama and me cried most of that day. It wasn't until around the time you were born that the
two of us were talking and thinking back to those days that Mama admitted to me that she felt guilty too, since she'd sent us out that morning and told us to hurry.
We both came to the conclusion that moment neither of us were truly at fault.
It was nothing more than an accident we were helpless to prevent.
To tell the truth, on any other February day,
that lake would have been frozen three feet down and hard as a rock.
It just happened it was one of those once-in-a-lifetime days it wasn't. February day, that lake would have been frozen three feet down and hard as a rock.
It just happened it was one of those once-in-a-lifetime days it wasn't.
I can't speak for Mama, but that day was when I was finally able to let go of all my guilt once and for all. Well, Junior, that's most of it that I can remember. File that away in your mind somewhere safe, because I ain't telling it ever again.
And those were the words that he told me.
And I was at a loss for words.
I'd never in my life heard my dad be so open about his life and upbringing.
I'd known he'd been pretty poor, but that was it. In the silence, he drifted off
somewhere into his past, now unaware of my presence. Dredging up all that grief had turned
his eyes red and filled them with tears. I decided I'd slip quietly out of the room to leave him
alone with his memories. My dad and I had our share of clashes and have often went long periods not speaking
to one another, but after hearing that story, I was able to see him in a bit of a more positive
light.
I realize now, even someone as hard as a rock like him can hurt deep down. I realize he's as human as the rest of us.
The following is an account of a terrified child and how he learned to overcome the trauma that
had caused it as an adult. Mom and dad had to go out of town for a reason I don't exactly remember now and
they left with my dad's mom, Granny Pearson. Granny P as she was called lived on a farm way out in the
middle of nowhere in Kansas. My dad and his two sisters had grown up on the farm and I spent most
of my first seven years of my life there myself. It was some point between January and February
when this would happen. I remember
a really bad ice storm had just blown through the area. The loud bang coming from the trees
snapping under the weight of all the ice made me jump out of my skin a few times before I got used
to it. There was just Granny P and I around then. Grandpa P had just died before I was born, and this left Granny P the only person living on the farm full-time.
She was a big woman, not fat really,
stocky more than anything, but a very kind woman.
I would often go to her after my mom had told me I couldn't have something,
and she would usually give it to me.
When my mother told me I'd be staying with her for a few days I was ecstatic. I got dropped
off early on Friday morning and the plan was for me to stay until Sunday afternoon. Granny P made
us breakfast and then we spent the rest of the day watching TV and playing games. After supper we did
more of the same until bedtime. The bed was made for me in my dad's old room and she kissed me goodnight
on my forehead. The next morning, I woke up really cold and the sun was already up which was weird.
Although she never ran the Dearborn heaters at night, Granny P was always up before me turning
them on to make the house warm and cooking breakfast. She would allow me to stay in bed
until the food was ready and wake me up when it was time to eat. This morning none of that had happened.
My curiosity overtook me and I ran down the hall to her room. When I opened the door I could see
she was still in bed so I jumped onto it to wake her up. I pushed on her several times but she didn't move I did it a few more times and still nothing
I wasn't sure what to do I was hungry and very cold and I did the only thing I could think of
and crawled under the covers with her but I couldn't get any warmer my seven-year-old mind
couldn't grasp what was happening but I knew things weren't right somehow. I'd soon
give up where I was at and go put my coat on then eventually every piece of clothing I had.
The shivering had stopped but I was still very uncomfortable. You could see your breath every
time you exhaled but I was helpless to do anything to fix it. Since I couldn't do anything about the
cold I went into the kitchen
to search for something to eat. At my age I didn't know how to cook but I'd watched my mom make PB&Js
enough I thought I could do it myself. I dug through the cabinets for several minutes before
I came across an old jar of peanut butter but no matter how hard I looked I couldn't find any jelly
so I did the best I could with what I
had. I made three peanut butter sandwiches and poured myself a glass of milk. I took the
sandwiches and milk to the living room and watched cartoons. In between bites, I look over at the
Dearborn heater trying to figure out how it worked, but I just couldn't. When I finished my sandwiches,
I went back into Granny's bedroom to try again and
wake her up. I was hoping she had been more tired than usual and was now rested and ready to get up.
When I pushed on her this time her body moved very stiffly like she was frozen.
She still wasn't waking up and the way her body moved made me suspicious that something may be
wrong with her.
Since my parents had taught me how to dial 911 if there was an emergency, I picked up the phone and dialed it.
But for some reason, likely due to damaged lines because of the ice storm, the phone didn't work.
This was when I was finally forced to acknowledge that I may be in trouble.
I knew something was wrong with my granny and it was only going to acknowledge that I may be in trouble. I knew something was wrong
with my granny and it was only going to get colder when the sun went down. Yes, I had enough food to
make it until Sunday, but I wasn't sure if I'd be able to stand up to the cold. Not to mention
granny was sick and needed help from an adult. There wasn't anything I could think of to do,
so I went back to watching TV.
On the way I went into my room and took one of the quilts from my bed and put it on my granny.
I thought she was stiff because she was cold like me and the blanket may keep her warm while she was sick.
As the hours passed I sat occasionally shivering in front of the screen and crying.
I'd never been so scared before and help was still so far away.
A bang made me jerk awake.
I wasn't sure how long I'd been asleep for but didn't see any sunlight coming in the windows any longer.
My first thought was that Granny was feeling better and getting up to make supper.
However, when I looked down the hall to the kitchen, lights weren't on I knew you couldn't cook in
the dark and I didn't hear anything being moved around fear caused me to call out for granny but
I received no reply then the banging happened again however this time it was followed by a
familiar voice saying hello I knew right away that it was my mom and I ran towards the back door.
Mom and dad came walking through the door a moment later. I remember wrapping my arms around
my mother's leg and starting to cry for joy. My dad asked me where granny was and I told him that
she was sick in bed. A confused look came across his face and he went into her room only to return a moment later.
The look on his face was one I'd never seen before.
He called my mom over to him and whispered something I couldn't hear.
She put her hand on my dad's head and said something, then walked over to me and picked me up and held me.
I wasn't sure what was going on, but the warmth of my mother's body felt amazing.
She quietly asked me if I was okay and I answered yes.
Then she carried me into the living room and sat me on the couch.
She walked over and did something to the heater and voila, it was roaring with heat.
It was like she'd done an amazing magic trick at that moment.
She returned to the couch and sat with me while we watched TV and she messed with my hair like she often did.
My dad had stayed at the back of the house talking to somebody on the phone and about an hour later I heard him talking to a couple of other men.
The men didn't stay very long and dad joined us in the living room not long after they left.
We loaded up and left the farm a few minutes
later. This would be my last visit for another 25 years. The last 12 hours had been a rollercoaster
ride of emotions. Something deep down told me not to ask about Granny P and nothing was said about
her until the following morning when dad and mom explained that she had died in her sleep.
I was just beginning to grasp the concept of death. When they said I'd never see her again,
I started crying. Because of what had gone down, I was torn between the thought of losing her and the idea that it may have happened to me if they hadn't shown up early.
It wasn't until I got a little older that the nightmares began.
The image of Granny P's frozen face and stiff body terrified me for many years to come,
as did the terror of freezing to death alone with her dead body.
It was something I tried to suppress and deal with in my own way, not until I met my wonderful
wife and she witnessed the night terrors I was experiencing
that I was convinced to seek help. Several years of counseling would follow until I was able to
face my fears head on and return to the house. My aunt had been living there with her children
for a few years but it had been sitting abandoned for at least five. The silence and smell of the
old house brought back everything.
Had this been ten years before I probably would have crumbled from a panic attack,
but I learned how to handle my emotions since then. Soon my memory filled with all the happy
events I'd experienced. Each object I saw reminded me of something wonderful I'd associated with it.
I went away from the farm that day, greatly surprised and pleased.
An experience I'd expected to be traumatic turned out to be the exact opposite.
Since that day, I've been out to the old house several times and hadn't had any problems.
Now that I've become free of the burden I carried around for so long related to her,
I'm able to
remember all the good memories I have of Granny P. And that is, perhaps, the best thing I've gotten
out of all the treatment I've received.
I'm not sure how common the trope of the guy who went to the store to get some cigarettes and never came back is in today's virulent anti-smoking world.
However, in my youth, it was still alive and well.
Until an incident like this occurred to a friend of mine, I'd always thought it was an excuse mothers used to explain to the children why their father had left them. To my surprise, when I was a junior in high school, I discovered
how true this excuse really was. My friend's dad had been working undercover for the local police
department for as long as I'd ever known. Although he would often go extended periods of time without
being in contact with his family, they almost always knew he was working a
case and would return when he'd completed it. Then one morning he was just gone. It was a cold
and quiet winter day, the kind most folks don't go out in, but he had insisted he was out of
cigarettes and would be right back once he'd gotten them. He'd just returned home from a case
that had kept him away for over four months
and his family was desperate to spend quality time with him.
From all appearances, he'd planned to return, leaving his badge and gun behind.
He'd simply thrown on a light coat and drove away into the unknown.
The investigation to find him was very hot for a while but would eventually fizzle out.
A lot of important questions were going unanswered, mainly from the side of the police department.
His wife was stonewalled at every turn, especially when it came to the nature of his cases.
The department would only say that his jobs were wide and varied.
After not hearing anything new and not getting the answer she wanted,
for nearly two years his wife hired a private investigator who used to be a local officer
hoping he'd have an easier time getting the information she wasn't. He agreed to take the
case but she went almost three months without hearing from him. Just when she was starting
to think she'd been scammed by the man, she received
a very important phone call. The private investigator called her down to his office
and gave her all she'd been looking for and so much more. It turned out he'd certainly been
earning his money. Almost an entire month after he'd begun the investigation, he discovered that
her husband had been working undercover in the state and, sometime, national drug trade on and off for 15 years.
His most recent case, prior to his death, was undercover in a local meth cooking and trafficking group that had ties all the way to Mexico.
When the investigation wrapped up and arrests were made, he went back home. Unfortunately, it turned out
that a couple of the people involved in the trafficking had to be cut loose due to some
technicality and they figured out her husband wasn't undercover. They discussed this with
their connections in Mexico and said connections demanded they ended him. Generally, in the States,
traffickers don't go after cops. It's always been kind of
an unspoken rule but no such belief is held across the border in order to maintain a good
working relationship. They agreed. It took a short time for them to find the officer and where he
lived. Then one cold and quiet winter morning they caught him on a trip to the store. All this
information was unknown to the
police until around a year after her husband's disappearance. A jailhouse snitch came forth with
a story he had overheard and wanted to trade it for a deal on his case. Once they heard it, he was
given the deal. Now that they had the information and some names, the department moved forward by
planting another undercover in the organization. Considering what had happened in the names, the department moved forward by planting another undercover in the organization.
Considering what had happened in the past, the police knew the suspects would be very leery,
so the officer had to take his time gaining their confidence. He did just what he needed to do and eventually compiled all the proof required to end the trafficking and convict the murderers of her
husband. The PI had known all about the investigation for a
little while but was unable to say anything until arrests were made. That morning he had called her
to give her all of his findings. The arrest had begun and he was given the okay to let her in on
everything he knew. The private investigator told her in his entire time in and out of law
enforcement he had never heard of a cop being allowed to stay on undercover work for as long The private investigator told her in his entire time in and out of law enforcement
He had never heard of a cop being allowed to stay on undercover work for as long as her husband
Especially in local capacity
A couple of other narcotics cops told him off the record
That they had heard that her husband had been asking to transfer out of the unit
But the transfers kept getting blocked
This last tidbit of information
was quickly followed up with a reminder that the police department rarely admits when it's at fault
for something and she should give up on the idea of anyone connected to it accepting any guilt in
his death. She took his advice and thanked him for all his hard work. In the following weeks,
the remains of her husband would be recovered and given
a proper funeral. I attended the service and it definitely had an air of bitter sweetness to it.
Everyone had given up hope on him being alive long ago and were just happy to have him back
and know what happened. I would soon go off to college and lose contact with my friend but
I did keep up on the case and was happy to see his dad's murderers were convicted.
They have both since been executed and I hope they're burning in hell.
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The other night I was driving in the center lane of a three-lane city street.
All of a sudden a car comes into my right blind spot and almost slams into me.
I look over and it is swerving in and out of the lane, braking abruptly.
I honk and I look over to see if the driver is possibly distracted
and I see that the man driving is
drinking something out of a brown bottle. The man then comes up to my side and is screaming at the
top of his lungs. Not wanting to get involved I then make a lane change to the leftmost lane to
get away from the man. I can still hear him screaming so I turn on my rear view camera and
I see the man swerve across two lanes from rightmost lane to get behind me.
He then starts speeding up as if he's trying to ram into me from behind.
Once I see him inches from my bumper, I decide to run the red light I'm stopped at and make a right turn in front of the two lanes of traffic beside me in the hopes that at this point he will just leave me alone. I look at my rear
view camera once again and I see that this man is following me, trying to hit me from behind yet
again. I panic and speed off on a side street but I look back and he won't let up. He is swerving in
the lanes behind me and is trying to keep up. In the distance I see a freeway on ramp so I speed over in hopes of losing him on the freeway.
The on ramp has two lanes that merge into one.
I pass up a car prior to the merge thinking that the car will create a buffer between me and the man chasing me.
When I look back into the camera I see that the man is driving in the shoulder on the brush to the side of the on-ramp in order to pass the other car and catch up to me.
At this point I am driving close to 100 miles per hour scared for my life so I slow down and dial
911. I explain the situation to the dispatcher and she recommends that I try to get away to safety.
The man then catches up to me and begins coming up to the side of me on the freeway. He repeatedly tries to swerve
into me as if to ram me off or run me off the road. I slow down in hopes that he will pass me up but
he too slows down and his wife in the passenger seat throws a bottle at my car. For a second I lose
visibility as the car is covered in a brown foamy fluid. I think to myself surely this is the extent
of his road rage and I look over and it seems as if he is continuing on the freeway. Ready to get
away I then pull off on the next freeway exit thinking I can just leave the situation.
As I do this, the man sees me and makes a four lane change onto the exit ramp and tries to ram me once again at the freeway exit.
I then am forced to speed through the city streets and I finally end up at a red light trapped next to the man.
I look over at the man and I roll down my window.
He's screaming at me. Screaming why did I honk at him? Trying to make me look like a bad father
in front of my kids? You want to go? And just kept honking his horn. His wife is also yelling
at me saying why would you honk at him in front of my kids? I look into the back seat and I see two
children in car seats. Since I am on speaker with the dispatcher, she hears all of this and tells
me to just try and get away. At this point, I am done. I just want to get away from him,
so I make a u-turn to head back onto the freeway. He follows me once again and almost hits a plastic construction
lane barrier to do so. He then follows me again and is trying to hit me from behind.
Once I get onto the overpass to get on the freeway I glance at him to the side of me
and I see that he's holding something up in my direction. Suddenly I hear a very loud bang.
In that moment the dispatcher on the phone screams,
Did he shoot you? Are you okay?
Thinking I've been shot, I start screaming,
He's shooting at me! He's shooting at me!
Realizing that running away isn't working, I stop and the man speeds off.
Luckily, there is no broken glass and I am not injured in any way.
The dispatcher tells me to pull off to a nearby safe location so I go to the parking lot of a
nearby mall. I tell the dispatcher to make color and model of car as well as a partial license plate.
The whole time I drive there I am concerned that the man could be following me again
but they send an officer immediately over to file a police report. In waiting for the officer I
realize that my car's cameras are always recording so I hit the save button. The officer comes over
and tells him my story describing everything in detail. I also tell him that I may also have footage of the whole thing.
We take a walk around the car and for the most part there is no damage.
The officer then informs me that because I am not injured
and because there is no damage to the car there really isn't anything that can be done.
I ask him if it was an assault.
He says because the bottle hit my car and not me it's not an assault. I ask him if it was an assault. He says because the bottle hit my car and not me it's not an assault.
I ask him if it's reckless driving and he says that here in California that is a misdemeanor
and that requires the presence of a CHP officer to convict. I then asked him if it could be
considered him attempting to end my life because he was trying to ram into me but he says that this is just plain
old road rage and there's not much that can be done. At most the officer says that once he has
a complete license plate an officer can go out and talk to him. I ask him if the potential footage
could be helpful in getting this man reprimanded in some way and he tells me to only send me the
highlights and necessary screenshots though he doesn't think anything can be done. At the end of all this I am extremely shaken up.
I eventually go home and review the footage captured by my car. Luckily I have the entire
thing recorded. The moment he almost hits me, his wife throwing the bottle at me, his face as he is yelling at me, his license plate and even him
trying to ram me. It is all recorded. A few days later the officer calls me and confirms the
license plate I have in the video with the recording he has from the freeway on and off ramps.
A week and a half passed and there had been no update. While I understand the law is the law,
it is unacceptable to me that this man could be so overtly aggressive on the road, threatening my life, the lives of his children
and the lives of everyone else on the road with no sort of punishment. I am genuinely scared for
my life and in the process both he and I endangered the others on the road. Ultimately, this has left me feeling very disappointed with the system.
An act of violence was committed, and due to technicalities, the other driver gets off.
I'm trying to keep my retelling as factual as possible, but this is a really terrifying experience.
Even in the past few days, I still feel a bit hesitant to be an aggressive
driver, overtaking people, even changing lanes, and am not comfortable honking. I really wish I
could say this didn't get to me, but it has. One odd detail is that the man was taking pictures
of my car before the bang happened. What would he possibly want that for? Has anyone else been in a situation like this?
Is there truly nothing that can be done? Are there any recommendations for how I can at least have
someone check on those kids? So how my friend group works is we have our little circle of people who we hang around with most often.
But for big events or bonfires or something similar, we expand and a couple of different friend groups can join.
Ben is a part of one of those extended friend groups.
He is someone who always posts different and interesting things, who always
has something to say. I've gotten along really well with Ben at these events and we always end
up chatting. I've always found him to be a different and unique individual. Ben started going to my
local college this year. He shot me a snapchat basically saying, hey all my friends went away
to different schools and the only person I have to talk to from the area is now my ex-girlfriend.
I was wondering if you wanted to get a group together and hang out because I'd like to have some new friends around.
It was actually a really nice message because with the course I'm in,
I don't get to make many friends and all my close friends are spread out now too so I said yes. The hangout was
initially supposed to be one of my friends, him and one of his friends. It was a day after class
and I just got home. He told me he was going to take a quick nap before we all head out.
When he wakes up he tells me it's now too late and he has other plans he forgot about.
That's totally fine. I wasn't upset about it. I cancel
with my friends too so I can just sit down and do some homework. He texts me a few hours later.
I didn't give him my number. He somehow found it. Telling me his other plans got cancelled and he
was now available again and wondering if I still wanted to do something. I said that my friend was
now out of the city and he said he texted his friend but they didn't answer. He decided to pick me up and go for a
drive and just chat. Normal enough, I thought. Ben gets to my house at around 10. I go and hop
into his car and he speeds off. Oddly enough, he's been talking in an accented voice, kind of like Jamaican or something similar.
I thought he was just being goofy so I played along. Sometimes I would answer back in the
account but then I started to think it was weird that he wasn't talking in his own voice at all.
He was driving like a maniac down the street, telling me how he was drinking earlier because
he thought he was going to a party. I asked him if he was drinking and driving and he said no he only had a few sips.
I know I probably should have gotten out of that car then but at this point we're flying down the
highway and I'm scared. He begins to rant about his ex telling me that there was infidelity and
trust issues on his end and he couldn't tell me what
they were because he didn't want me to think badly of him. He told me he was still going to
marry this girl and have her children. He ranted about her and got on tangents and started to
scream and yell. I started to maybe think that he was on something. We arrive at my college,
a half hour to 40 minute drive away in another city
and he says we should get out of the car. I'm already scared and my phone is dying so I just
listen what he says. At this point I'm literally thinking that he might end my life. He took me for
a walk through the light woods and then started to make sounds like a creature. He would make like
dinosaur sounds or sounds like the grudge. He would also walk like a creature morphing his
body into weird creepy movements. I requested for us to go home because I was literally terrified.
We get back into the car and start our drive home. He pulls out a pipe and smokes something. I told him that he shouldn't
do that but he doesn't listen and now he begins to yell. He starts back on his tangents about life.
He pulls the car over to get out and do some jumping kicks. What? I'm thinking in my mind.
At this point my phone is dead. He gets back in the car and puts on his favorite song.
The song begins slow and then picks up a little later. It's like a four minute song. He begins to
scream along to the lyrics and smash the windows and dashboard and wheel with his hands,
stomping his feet. I've seen someone passionate about a song before, but not like this.
Ben swerves all around the road until we get to my house. He then turns to me and says,
without an accent, I know it's late, but did you want to make love? In the most casual tone in the
world. I gave a nervous laugh and said, Actually, I'm good.
He turned to the backseat to get something, but I got out of the car and booked it to my house.
I locked the door to my house and the bedroom door in my room, as if he would break in.
It might not sound as terrifying as it was for me in the moment, but at the time I was shaking out of pure fear. I don't know if he was just on something crazy or had a split personality or something but I've never met a person before who I've looked at and thought to myself
you are going to end someone's life someday.
I really hope he doesn't see this because I actually see him at school frequently.
So yeah, fun life.
I was a new manager of a very old building.
I came from social work and was hired to manage a building that was about to celebrate its 100th anniversary.
My office was in the basement along
with several below ground apartments. Of these apartments was an elderly fellow that I knew
was on palliative care for extreme kidney failure. He would get medication and food delivered every
other week so when it wasn't brought in I rang him and when I got no answer I asked the police for a welfare check.
This was a very warm June and the way the building was constructed you couldn't smell something wafting out of an apartment unless the door was open and allowed the smell out.
Once the police opened the door everyone knew that he had been dead for a while.
The smell permeated everything.
The smell of rotten human got into the air ducts and it's not something you forget. Fast forward about one month to July.
Now mind you there are about 105 tenants in this four-story building and I get a call from one
tenant niece that she hasn't heard from her uncle in a while and could we please check on him? Of course I knew this guy. I'll just pop up and make sure he's okay. We'll have a laugh.
No answer. I call the police for a welfare check. It's been a regular 85 degrees outside for a few
weeks and yes, he's passed away. The smell, the smell of a dead human is so much different than the smell of dead other things.
It's a sticky sweet smell combined with an acrid taste and a heavy, I don't know how to describe it,
dead meat mushroom sort of smell.
It doesn't smell like other rotten meat.
The me made a joke about me staging this just to see him again.
The smell was so bad in the hallway just from opening the door for the few minutes to take
the body out that I had entire families running from the building in tears. I knew I had to
mitigate this. I knew he passed on a small carpet in the middle of the room so I put some menthol under my nostrils,
double gloved, wrapped my pant legs and pulled up the carpet that was pretty thick with adipose tissue.
I had told the coroner what I was going to do before I did it.
I slipped in his goo.
I double bagged his carpet and opened the windows.
It's still rough to think about.
It involved large fans and my staying up all night.
Cut to one month later.
I'm putting notices on doors for an upcoming bed bug inspection.
I smell that smell on the fourth floor.
That acrid dead smell.
Someone was dead.
There's no mistaking it i start knocking on doors and only one out of 25 answer because it was the middle of the day i can't just go into the
apartments i call the police they come out and they confirm it's definitely somebody had passed
but they can't figure out where it's coming from. I literally
stood there trying to figure out if a body constituted an emergency so I could circumvent
the 48-hour rule of entering an apartment. The police told me that without something else they
couldn't just start running into apartments. We walked up and down the halls and couldn't figure out where the smell of the
body was coming from. I went to my office to print up 48 hour notices of intent to enter.
I laid in bed that night and started thinking about it. The smell of the dead body only entered
the hallway when the door was opened. Someone had the smell of body and opened a door. Someone opened a door. Day of,
I go apartment to apartment. Ten apartments in and white haired middle aged dude answers the door.
Huge wafts of bleach belch out of his apartment. Instead of hanging out like most people would do
when someone is inspecting your apartment, he takes off.
The floor has been bleached, the kitchen has been bleached, everything is spotless.
Neighbors later said that he told people that chicken went bad.
Chicken does not smell like human.
I contacted the non-emergency line that day and without anything else to go on there wasn't a lot they could do.
So, middle-aged, nondescript white dude on the fourth floor.
What are you hiding?
This all happened in the last three weeks and and the final part, hopefully, just took place this morning.
To set the stage, I'm a single dad with a daughter who is about to turn three.
I don't really have time to go out and meet people, but I decided I needed to put myself out there, so I made a Tinder profile.
I had a few decent dates, but nothing too special.
Then, about three weeks ago, I matched with a new person. She lived about 30 minutes from me and looked cute so I messaged
her. We started talking and she gave me her number. We texted for a week or so and things
seemed great. We both seemed to be on the same page about things in that neither of us wanted
to rush into anything serious but
having a friends with benefits would be nice. So we decided to spend an evening together.
The first evening went well and we got along great. We did the same thing a few days later and
again everything went fine. But after about two weeks it became clear that she wanted to start
an actual relationship and I wasn't ready
to commit to that. I made that clear and she seemed to understand and accept it. After some
of the things she said though I was starting to see some little red flags and I wasn't sure if
she was going to actually respect my wishes and not try to move things forward into a serious
relationship. And there were a number of things
she said that made me think she was a bit emotionally unstable. So I decided to take a
few days to think about things and decide what I wanted to do. We had been texting at least a
little bit every day and I felt like the daily contact was not helping to convince her that
I was serious when I said that I wanted to take things slow and not jump
into a relationship. So on a Friday morning I was texting her and then just kind of stopped replying.
I didn't think much about it since I was really busy anyways. She came to my house that night,
just showed up unannounced. I was polite and made up an excuse about my phone being broken. She claimed
that she had showed up because she was worried something had happened to me since I had always
replied right away before. But her showing up in my house was another huge red flag. I figured the
broken phone excuse would benefit me, giving me the time to evaluate this new warning sign and
decide what to do. I told her I was fine but
that I'd be MIA for a little bit until I got a new phone. I don't have a home internet connection
either so basically all contact with me would cease until I re-initiated. She seemed to be fine,
apologized for intruding on my evening and left right away so I didn't give much thought other
than it reaffirming my concern that she was becoming obsessed. In the next few days she
sent a few messages basically just checking to see if I got a new phone. There was nothing too crazy
but it was still very worrying and with everything else it told me that I needed to cut things off
completely. That leads me to last night.
It was six days since she had showed up at my house and I hadn't contacted her so far. I was
hoping that my silence would send a message or that maybe she'd forget about me and move on to
someone else but it was not to be. I went to sleep at around 12 a.m. and woke up at 6. Upon looking at my phone I saw literally 15 message
notifications, six missed calls and a voicemail. The text started off saying, I know you're probably
asleep but I saw you accepted a friend on Facebook two days ago so I just wanted to know why you've
been ignoring me and then went to pleading me to answer the phone and finished with, if you won't talk to me, I'm going to come to your house.
This whole thing took place between 1 and 2 a.m.
The voicemail was just her sobbing into the phone and screaming,
why are you doing this to me?
Keep in mind, I've known this girl for less than a month,
and we've only been on two dates in that time.
At this point, I was pretty freaked out so I called a friend of mine asking for advice. My friend told me to just be blunt
and tell her that threatening to come to my house in the middle of the night was completely
inappropriate and that she's acting crazy and to not contact you again. So here I am this morning
after sending her a long text kindly but firmly telling her that
her behavior was not acceptable and she was to not contact me again. We'll see how it goes.
Update. For everyone who is worried about my safety and everyone who sees where I'm coming
from thank you and I'm fine. From everyone who's saying I'm a jerk, I give you that.
I should have been honest when she came to my house instead of making an excuse, I fully admit
that. I'm not saying I handled things correctly, but honestly, I would have never written about
this in the first place if she had just calmly asked to talk about things. This whole thing
happened in the middle of the night, so I never even knew she was upset until
it was all over but if you think her reaction was normal I'll tell you what she said about her own
actions she did reply apologizing for her actions saying that she understood why I would not be
comfortable continuing things with her after waking up to that and telling me that she appreciated my honesty and that she knows that she needs help and is actively seeking therapy to deal with her issues.
So this story is a bit of a long story from several years ago when I worked in a fast food
chain that served barbecue.
But I clearly remembered this because it's just so weird.
My parents owned the business so they allowed me to work there whenever I wanted.
At this time I'm 14 years old but I had purple hair because I had identity issues I guess.
So I looked a lot older than I actually was, but I was still only about 5'4". One day I'm
working on a Sunday night with only one other girl a little older than me trying to get started
closing since we close in about an hour. It's 8pm and fully dark outside. It's completely silent.
Usually you can hear cars pull up and you can definitely see them as the walls were covered in windows.
I'm just sweeping up when I see something move out in the dark.
I look up and in the back of our parking lot is a man in all dark clothes just looking inside.
No car in sight.
I think it's weird but people are like that sometimes.
About ten minutes later the door squeaks open really quickly and it made me jump because it was so loud.
It was a very large and tall man wearing black scrubs and a scraggly beard.
At this point I'm annoyed because it's like 40 minutes before we close and it's super hard to close this restaurant.
But I put my biggest smile on and say like usual,
Hi.
Welcome. Welcome.
Nothing.
No words for what felt like five minutes.
And then a woman wearing the same clothes comes in and this lady looks like the guy's twin.
So they come up to the front counter to order and I say,
What can I get for you today?
Do y'all have fortune cookies?
Uh, no sir, we only sell barbecue and sides.
That's too bad.
We brought our own anyway.
I want a large sweet tea.
And then the creepy lady chimes in.
So no fortune cookies here?
No ma'am.
At this point she actually seemed really mad that we don't have fortune cookies.
Then no food for me.
That was their whole order, was just a large drink.
They paid and sat down at one of the empty tables.
This man had been carrying a computer bag with him inside so I thought he had some work to do real quick.
But no, he opens his bag and pulls out a whopping handful of fortune
cookies, like at least 30. They're both very silent and it's already creeping me out. As I'm
sweeping under the table next to them, the guy says without ever looking my direction,
we use these numbers from these cookies to play in the lottery every day. That's really cool. No, it's
not. It's serious. We didn't do it one night and it was the winning numbers. We could have won
$2,000. We cried for months. Oh, little 14-year-old me didn't know what to say so I just kept sweeping. Now we run an acupuncture shop in the next town over.
We can cure everything.
Awesome.
At this point I'm sweeping towards the back of the store.
I'm facing away from them cause they were already creeping me out and I was hoping they'd just stop talking.
I don't think you think I'm serious.
His voice got really loud all of a sudden like he was yelling at me and now he was looking at me.
They both looked really angry at me for some reason but I didn't want to say anymore so I
kept quiet. Still the creepy man then says, we cure everything. Smoking habits, cured. Back pain, cured. Chronic
headaches, cured. He is actually screaming at me now and my co-worker has been in the walk-in
cooler so she heard nothing. I'm starting to walk into the kitchen but I had to pass him to get
there into a phone. As I'm speed walking past
he stares me down. At this point I'm absolutely terrified and I don't know what to do so I start
to call my parents. Before I can even grab this phone this man is suddenly right behind me.
We even help ladies get pregnant. He said in a little louder than a whisper and this sent shivers all the way down my spine that I froze.
The man walks back towards the table and I take off downstairs to my co-worker.
I decided the best option was to lock ourselves in the office for a while till they left.
Eventually we came out and they were gone.
There isn't really a good ending to this because that's all there was.
I told my parents and they came and got me. We tried looking up acupuncture places in town he
said but there weren't any for another 60 miles away. Now a year later I'm at a gas station down
the street from the restaurant and I'm filling up when a man came back to his car which
was beside me. I didn't pay any attention until he said, what a nice day outside, a good day for
some acupuncture. I look up and I kid you not it's the same creepy dude from that night. I said,
yep and promptly stopped filling up my car and drove away.
I don't know if the guy recognized me or what, but I hope to God I never see that guy that wanted to help me get pregnant at 14 again. To be continued... was Colonel Mustang and so forth. There was six of us and we arrived the earliest because we were
excited to meet other cosplayers. We ran into a woman who wasn't a cosplayer but a weeaboo and
your stereotypical fujoshi. We discovered this upon meeting when she squealed, ran up to me and
my ex-spouse then asked for Mustang on Edward action. I don't need to explain why that's disgusting. That was
the first red flag. My fraternal twin who cosplayed Kimblee shot me a glare that said
we need to go and everyone silently agreed. Me sympathizing with her decided against it.
So in Japanese, a mutual language me and my friends speak alongside Dutch and Gaelic,
begged to stick it out.
A bad idea in hindsight, she screamed and brought unwanted attention.
This was the last straw for them.
Immediately, my brother, ex-spouse, and other two friends disguised their urgent want for
disassociation as wanting to walk around, leaving me and Winry as her company.
Minor time skip, the three of us are wandering. Despite being an introvert, I try to be as
interactive and inclusive to our company as possible because nobody likes to feel like the
third wheel. As me and my friend converse with her, we quickly learned of her unappealing aspects. She ships indirect familial relationships
if you get my drift. Apparently has nosebleeds for Seal and Sebastian fanfiction and believes
relationships with animals isn't all that bad. Another red flag I shamefully attempted ignoring
under the impression she was young of of 17 and 19, but no,
it turns out she's 21. Major time skip. It's been over four hours and she tailgated me and Winry the
entire event. In an attempt to relax myself, I ask if they're down for drinks. We grab a couple and
then Winry sets off to find my brother and our other friends so we can go, leaving me with this weird
feeling in my stomach. As a Scotsman and avid drinker, I definitely had more than a few drinks,
so I was kind of tipsy. I got a call from my brother saying for everyone to meet in the
parking lot, so I bid her goodbye and left, unbeknownst to her following me. I was the first to reach the car. The doors were unlocked
thankfully because it was cold. I hop in the back and take off my coat. The liquor starts
hitting differently so I became too disoriented to notice the silhouette behind the tinted glass
peering over me as I tried to collect myself. I was hearing the door open that triggered my anxiety but assuming it
was my brother or friend I didn't bother. It was cold outside but I was hot and exhausted from
walking around in cosplay all day so I closed my eyes and took some deep breaths. I was feeling
someone crawl into my lap and straddle me that provoked an alarm response and much to my dismay it was the woman from the event.
Buzzed and discombobulated I struggled to comprehend what was unfolding.
For the life of me I couldn't fathom the reason behind her actions.
I should probably include a trigger warning for assault here.
She starts touching me, hands under my shirt, hands on my inner thighs, etc.
At this point, I'm stiff as a board because I have flashbacks from prior assault.
My heart is racing, my eyes are wide, and my mouth's agape.
I'm trying to scream and say stop, but the words wouldn't come out.
It was the sound of my friend's laughter echoing through the lot that got her attention
where she immediately hopped off and scooted to the right seat.
My wig disheveled and cosplay untidy, my brother glared at me and asked what she was doing in her car.
When I could finally speak I lied and told him she was just waiting for her ride.
After she left I know my ex-spouse could tell I was off but kept hushed. Because of
this I've not interacted with anyone. I'm scared to tell my girlfriend. I'm scared to tell anyone.
This has been wrecking me mentally and emotionally the last two weeks.
It's taking everything in me not to cry right now but to the weeaboo foro joshi we met at the event please control yourself
this was about 11 years ago when i was in second or third grade and i was at my papa's house for
a family reunion this This side of the
family was spread all over the state so it was pretty rare that we all saw each other.
One of my family members that lived away was my second cousin, Steve. Steve was in his 40s at the
time and always wore Oshkosh overalls, old house shoes that he wore everywhere and had white stringy hair that was pulled back
in a ponytail with a rubber band. At least 250 pounds and over 6 feet tall. Very large.
Unfortunately Steve was in an accident 20 years ago and never got off the painkillers resulting
from it. We're talking grams of Percocet a day so he is constantly high. He's either wide-eyed and staring into people's souls or passed out.
No in-between.
He was the type of guy to interrupt a conversation just to ask the whole room what their worst dream ever was.
Really bizarre.
My dad always told me to stay away from Steve.
He didn't trust him and always told me to not be alone with him.
I didn't question it because why would I? Dad tells me someone is creepy, I believe him. The only reason he let me
stay at Papa's is because there was a lot of other people staying there the night too.
One of my other cousins, A, was also in town and we wanted to spend as much time possible together.
Being the two youngest people there, we were given the living room floor to sleep on. The living room was
connected to the kitchen to the north, a bedroom to the west, and the entrance to the south.
Above the west bedroom was the staircase to the upstairs bedrooms. This was a very low and narrow
staircase and anyone above five foot tall had to
duck while climbing up it. As you can imagine a giant like Steve did not go gracefully up or down.
The morning of the reunion A and I were supposed to help our papa make chicken and dumplings.
I was really looking forward to this so I had barely gotten any sleep over the night. So I'm drifting in and out of consciousness and at around 5.30 or 6 in the morning I hear Steve start to come down the stairs.
I didn't want to be the only two up together so I acted like I was still asleep in hopes he'd make coffee or go outside.
He stops halfway down and it sounded like he sat down.
As I'm laying there I hear the sound a camcorder makes when he starts recording. Not knowing what's going on I stay there,
frozen because all I know is Steve is somewhere behind me, recording. After what seemed like an
eternity but in all reality probably 15 minutes I hear him walk down the rest of the
stairs. Still recording because I hear the zoom sound. I have no idea what to do but lay there
and hope he is recording something else other than A and I. He finally walks around to the front of
us and stays there. Recorder in hand about two inches from our feet but this time I'm shaking I'm so scared and I
start to silently cry he must have seen the tears running down my face because he immediately
pressed the button and stopped recording he sped over to the fireplace move some things around and
what do I hear the same sound I just heard from the recorder in his hand. He had been recording us all night long.
He went back up the stairs so loudly and quickly that A woke up.
She turned around to me and asked why I was crying.
I told her and she runs to go get Papa.
Of course Papa doesn't believe us and just thought I was dreaming it since I didn't know Steve very well.
However, I tell my dad what happened at the family reunion and my dad immediately goes to Steve and takes him outside. I don't know what happened in that time. I do know dad came back
and Steve's car was definitely gone shortly after. I've only seen Steve once since then and it was at
a funeral where we kept our distance
I was older and more aware of how to avoid creeps
Plus he was passed out on one of the couches in the back of the funeral home for most of the time
I know this isn't creepy to some people because he didn't touch or physically harm us
But it was traumatic enough for me to still have a sticker on the front-facing camera of my phone and laptop.
After all, you never know who might be recording.
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Mom, Mom, did you see my race?
Of course I did, darling.
Look, you did your best.
You tried.
The thing is, it's not about winning.
It's about taking part.
Next year you might do better.
But I did win, Mom.
You did?
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When I was 19, I worked for a company that allocated labor to rural areas of Australia.
Basically, what you did was tell them when you were available,
and they'd send you to a remote farm for a few weeks,
where you would do whatever they needed done.
It was hard work and long hours,
but good pay and good fun if you got in with a nice group of workers.
When this occurred
I was working on a large property. I was told it covered roughly the same land mass as the state
of Maryland, USA, about nine hours from Sydney City and the property itself was about 40 minutes
from the nearest town. In short, it was in the middle of nowhere. I was working at the farm
clearing bushland with three other guys my age from the
city. Our boss was a guy called Jeremy who owned the farm and supervised us while helping out with
the work. He was pretty laid back and was generally really good to us. The summer in particular was
very hot and the work was hard. So one day when the temperature hit about 38 degrees Celsius or
100 degrees Fahrenheit, Jeremy decided to give us the afternoon off.
He said he knew of a waterhole on the farm about a 25 minute drive north. I was keen for a swim,
but the other guys just wanted to relax for the afternoon. So him and I hopped in one of the work
trucks and started heading across the property. It was mostly wide, empty expanses with a few
clumps of scattered bushland. Jeremy wasn't much of a talker so we
drove more or less in silence. After about 20 minutes however he suddenly perked up and jabbed
me in the ribs. You see that over there beneath the two dead trees? I shouldn't mention here that
if you're not familiar with inland areas particularly those in Australia they are brown
or red and mostly flat and bland, meaning any
bright colors stick out like a sore thumb. So you can imagine our surprise when we could see a large
blue angular structure far off in the distance. We steered in its direction and as we got closer
we realized it was a huge blue shipping container just sitting in the middle of nowhere. Jeremy was
perplexed and I asked him if he knew what it was
but he obviously didn't. He said he hadn't seen it when he drove through the same area about five
weeks before and he wanted to go and see what it was. Initially we pulled to a stop about 100
meters away from it. At this stage I had a really bad feeling. The whole thing wasn't right. It's
hard to explain but if you can imagine seeing such a
foreign object in the middle of a huge barren expanse, it had to be something weird. Jeremy
however wanted to investigate, which I understood, given it was his property, but in truth, I was
really anxious. As we got closer, things got even more bizarre. There was a big diesel generator behind it thumping away
and a CCTV camera on each side. All motion activated so they buzzed from side to side
following us as we moved around. I tried to reason with Jeremy something along the lines of
with all this security someone obviously doesn't want us here let's just go. He brushed me off however, reminding me it was his farm
and whoever had put this here was trespassing so he wanted to go inside. Despite all the surveillance
there was only a small padlock on the huge door. He had bolt cutters in his toolbox and after a
bit of a struggle we broke the lock and went inside. The first thing I noticed was the rush
of cold air as we got in.
The place was air conditioned, which I must admit was quite pleasant on such a hot day.
We searched around for a light switch, but I could already see this was some sort of IT setup.
There were flashing LEDs all around the place,
and the sort of hum you hear when a hard drive is working hard.
When we finally switched on the lights, we could see a sophisticated, albeit somewhat cluttered, office setup.
There were hard drives the size of bar fridges and other computer equipment lining the walls,
sometimes piled two or three high, and plastic storage boxes scattered around the far wall,
and several desks with computer monitors arranged in the middle, complete with rolling
office chairs. At this stage, I felt like I was in one of those nonsensical dreams. This made
absolutely no sense. We wandered to the middle and sat down at the desk to see if the computers
could give us any idea of what was going on here. My heart was racing and I just wanted to bolt.
We had been seen by CCTV so if anyone was monitoring
they already knew we were here. Jeremy on the other hand was adamant we had to get to the
bottom of this so I put on a brave face and started looking through the computer.
This went on for a while but in short neither of us had a very high grasp of technology outside
of Facebook and Microsoft Word. The best I can describe it
from my lay position is that it was endless lists of computer talk. It was like how the old Napster
or LimeWire download screens look like, just constantly picking up and receiving data then
recording it on several windows. I gave up on the computers and walked cautiously over to the far
end of the container to the big pile of storage boxes.
By then I was pretty sure no one else was there as there was nowhere to hide really but I was still incredibly on edge.
I decided against my better judgment to see what was inside all these boxes.
My brief sift through this box still makes me feel sick to my stomach. It didn't take me long to realize that this box was full of
posters, DVDs and photos, all of explicit and hardcore child X-rated material. One thing that
still gets to me is that it was all neatly ordered into folders and small boxes. These people were
organized. I immediately recoiled, jumped up and ran over to Jeremy. I could hardly string a sentence together.
I said something to the effect of,
Mate, get out. Dude, child, what, just get, get out of here, dude.
I dragged him out, composed myself and managed to explain what I saw.
We jumped back into the truck and sped back to the house.
The farm had no mobile phone reception.
We hadn't bought the satellite phone, so we had to get back to the landline to call the police once we called
them they still had to make it all the way to the farm from the nearest police station which was in
a town about a half hour from the town closest to the farm as i mentioned very remote we waited
talking frantically about what we'd seen,
until the cops arrived almost an hour later. They arrived with two four-wheel drives,
and we jumped in and led them back. This is where it gets worse. By the time we got back,
the container door was open, and there was fire inside. We had only two small extinguishers in
the cars, and they did very little. The fire department took an hour to get there, which, by that stage, most of the damage was already done.
An arson report by the federal police found almost no evidence of the computer equipment described,
and only traces of paper and cardboard.
This means that whoever ran it knew we were there and had time to come and remove most of it and get away. There were
various ways to get off the property, and the landmass was huge, and there was no real way to
tail them. Since the police hadn't taken us all too seriously in the first instance, probably due
to our poor explanation on the phone, aerial surveillance was also impossible by that time
we had pieced it all together. I took a keen interest in following it up, but with no real evidence of who might be responsible, the investigation went cold.
I've kept in contact with Jeremy, and the shipping container is still there on the farm, as it's too expensive to move.
I'll never forget what I saw in those boxes.
September 2010.
My boyfriend Dave, his best friend Tony, and my best friend Liz and I were all coming back
to our hometown for our final year of college after spending the summer in London.
We had a fantastic time, staying in my uncle's apartment, partying, and exploring such a big city.
It was great.
We stopped at a bed and breakfast that night about half of the way home,
and were planning to get home at about 6pm.
We all woke up early, about 4, maybe 5, ready to set off again,
and we discovered that someone had obviously driven
too close to our car and broke the right wing mirror off. Seeing as this was my dad's birthday
present to me and I had it barely two months, I was absolutely fuming. We asked the landlady where
we could possibly find spares or something to use for the time being. She said she had driven past
a makeshift scrapyard or something a while
back. She wasn't sure if it was still there but she drew us a rough map and we got back on the road.
I wasn't very sure if she was right about her directions because the closer we got to the area
she circled it in, the more desolate the surroundings were. The roads got more difficult
and had gone from stone to dirt. Around us there weren't any farms anymore,
just long weedy grass and patches of forest. It had basically become a moor. We were about to head
off because of the wild animals and I'd just have to get over being a paranoid driver and deal
without my wing mirror when surely enough my boyfriend pointed out in front to a handwritten
sign directing us two miles down the road to cafe
and car spares. We drove down into a little cove surrounded by forests and all got out,
except for my friend Liz who was asleep in the back seat. There was a tiny cream hut with cafe
spray painted on the roof, a caravan and a hill of metal and bits of cars. As to be expected we
were the only visitors parked up in front.
The sun was up but no lights or people were around. I guess they were still sleeping.
It was still about 6 anyway. We all walked up to the scrap pile and I had to fumble through it,
looking for a wing mirror or any sort of mirror that could do for the time being
until I could get it repaired. Tony picked up what could only be at least a decade old mirror
and suggested we just take it and go. But me, being stupid and sincere, insisted I have to go
give them some money for it. I can't just take it and go. I knocked on the door and waited.
A big hard-faced man answered the door and at first looked angry and tired, then smiled at me a two-toothed smile. He leered at
me for a few seconds, then, seeing the boys approach, asked us what we wanted. Tony handed
him the mirror and asked how much for it. He said nothing, just to get to know us, to which I thought
fair enough. Two more men then left the patio door on the other side. They turned and smiled, both skinheads with teeth like
meth addicts, and came over. They stank. He gave them the mirror and told them to go attach it to
our car. He then introduced himself as Ian, sat us down on the patio chairs and offered us some
sandwiches. I politely declined but he insisted we must be hungry and told me to come in, that
women are best at making sandwiches.
I declined again, finding him a little bit sexist at this point and when he asked again,
Dave more sternly reinforced that I said I don't want to come in. Ian muttered something and then
came and sat on the chairs with us. It became awkward very quickly as he started asking
questions. It started off innocently like asking
us how old we were, where we were from and then became a little more uncomfortable. He asked if
I had a boyfriend to which Dave answered and then started asking us both what we like to do to each
other. Private stuff like that to which we didn't answer. We sat in silence until we heard Liz
scream. When we turned around I saw one of the men meant to
be fixing the mirror with his hand in the back window grasping Liz's leg. The other was looking
around nervously behind the car. We got up immediately and sprinted off the patio, Tony
running after the guys, but they both headed into the forest. Liz was hysterical. She'd woken up to find herself on her own in the
car and a man's hand running up her leg. I can't even imagine how terrifying that must have felt.
I got into the back seat with her and consoled her while Dave came around the other side to get in
and told us some nails were on the floor. We looked over and there were about 12 of them
arranged around the tire like the guy was ready to pop them.
I couldn't really think why at the time but now I wonder where they got all those car parts.
We decided it was enough.
We didn't want to spend any more time there mirror or no mirror and were ready to go when Tony was the last to get in the car.
He closed the backseat door and as we looked back and saw Ian re-emerge from the
house with something long in his hands, running towards us. My vision adjusted when he got a bit
closer and then I realized he was holding a rifle. A hunting rifle. At that point I actually burst
into tears and hit the engine, slamming on the accelerator as hard as possible. The car started
to go and we got up to about 90 forgetting the dirt roads and just driving over whatever until
that scrapyard was out of sight. We didn't stop looking behind us until we were safely on the
motorway getting home. To this day whenever I go to London I take a train instead. I'm still terrified
I'll meet them again.
I live in a town of about 11,000 in rural Wisconsin. Not by reference but for a job.
We are moving when I get a better one. I was on my way to my employer's house.
He runs the company out of his basement until we get a new office space.
I was being tailgated bad by a ratty blue car and a white bald guy.
I drive a Kia Soul, which has a flat back end.
So if I can't see your headlights, that means you're a mere few inches off my butt,
and you will get me tapping my brakes.
This guy did. He honked at me. Whatever. I flipped him off and slowed down to 5 miles under the speed
limit. There wasn't anyone behind me so I wasn't ruining anyone else's day. He had chances to pass
me on the country road but didn't. After a few minutes with no other cars around and him still
kissing my bumper at 50 miles per hour,
I grabbed my cell phone and pretended to turn around quickly and take a picture of him.
Then I pretended to call 911.
I was in the country with no other cars around and this guy was getting creepy.
I came to my turn but decided to see if this guy would follow me.
I turned left and he followed.
Then I came to a roundabout and
thought I would lose him. I traveled the entire thing around twice and he still followed me.
At this point I knew he was messing with me, trying to scare me. Well, I decided to let myself
be late for my meeting. I began to drive to the police station. He followed me the whole way there. I pulled up and parked, ready to run inside.
I thought he would leave. Nope. He parked right next to me and just stared at me, and he pulled
up on my side of the car, close enough that I would have a hard time opening the door all the
way. He was in his forties, I'm guessing, wearing sunglasses and a creepy smile. He was wearing
fairly neat clothes, nothing scary there. The
interior of the car was pristine. I was anticipating to see a gun. I should mention here that I'm
training to be a behavior analyst and while I work with kids right now, my hobby is criminal
behavior and profiling. I was seriously trying to read this guy. A few seconds went by and I grabbed
my phone again, this time intent on calling 911 from
the police station parking lot. As I dialed, he rolled his passenger window down, said nothing,
rolled it back up and took off. I went inside and told an officer what happened. Sadly, I was too
focused on not crashing to get a plate number. Apparently, there had been a lot of complaints
about tailgaters recently,
multiple with a blue car. I filled out a report with the officer and they gave me a card for victim services in a local woman's shelter just in case he followed me home one night and I didn't
feel safe but I live in a secure building with my fiance. I went out to my car and there was a note
on the windshield. All it had on it was a smiley face. Serious horror movie stuff there. I took it back inside. The officer said he'd call me a few times during the night and I should avoid going anywhere alone for a while. He did call twice and said he was patrolling my parking lot during his night shift. This is a small town and the attitude around here is very
communal so I feel safe that someone will back me up. If I ever see this guy again no question
I will call 911 and lead him straight to the police station again. I also told my fiance that
I will post my work schedule or even when I have to leave for another reason that if I don't text
him within 10 minutes of my estimated arrival, to call 911.
This happened like 16 years ago. I was 12 then.
I was in the summer camp of my Boy scout troop but with both boys and girls.
As are all in Spain, scouting here is actually a quite liberal thing.
One of the most important activities during the summer camp is what we called the raid.
Basically going out of the camp to adventurously trek for a couple of days.
My friends and I planned an amazing route through a beautiful mountain range called
the Pyrenees in the northeast of Spain. Three days walking, two nights sleeping out of the camp. My raid group consisted of 15
boys and girls all between the ages of 12 and 14 years old. We took food with us, knew how to read
a map, how to build shelter, how to search for water and pretty much anything necessary to survive
for a couple of days so no adults were coming with us. That doesn't happen anymore. Our plans for the first day were
to climb a mountain that was just under 10,000 feet high and sleep by a glacial lake nearly on
top of it. It was a long walk from our camp, about 15 miles and quite steep, so at about 1800 we
decided we were going to not reach the lake at a prudent time.
We found a nice place to build a shelter, did it, and then cooked some dinner.
We were in the middle of a beautiful mountain, about 6 miles from the nearest road,
and let's add another 5 kilometers more to the closest village.
We couldn't have been happier.
We still had nearly 2 hours until sunset when we finished our meal,
so we thought it was a good idea to send a smaller group to clean dishes and refill water to a spring we had seen while walking. I volunteered
to go and three other friends joined. We got a couple of light torches too just in case and
headed towards the fountain. Night came while we were on our way back to the shelter. We could hear
the rest of the group singing and having fun in the distance. Suddenly one of my friends stopped and pointed at something just by the side of our trail.
This wasn't here on our way down.
I'm sure of it, he said.
There was a light reflecting pole from the road, torn into pieces.
We went from being happy and relaxed to being mildly scared in just a second
and rushed all the way to where the rest of our friends were.
We told them about our creepy finding right away. We were just kids so fear escalated quite fast. Who could be hiding in the
same mountain we were at and why? Two of the older guys, they were 14 years old, thought it would be
a good idea to go and take a look around to try to calm us down. Although being without them was
even scarier we also appreciated it. They went away
with a light torch, a knife and a whistle so we could hear from further apart if they were in
trouble. We remained seated inside the shelter which was nothing more than a couple of tarps
held by sticks near a big boulder. Silent and scared. I remember hearing quite a lot of sobbing
around me. I was thinking I didn't want to die there.
One of the girls suggested that we could sing to try and think of something else.
Some disapproved because we might not hear the whistles, but we did anyway, although not very loud.
We were like that for about 10 to 20 minutes.
The whistle interrupted our song.
We heard it clearly.
Two whistles coming towards us at a really fast pace. I remember
taking my knife from its sheath and keeping it in my hands. Luckily it was our friends. They arrived
nervous and exhausted from the run. They said they stumbled upon a long standing stick with lots of
blood all over it, more than what our nerves could stand. Most of us started crying, some prayed too.
They told us they were going back
to look for whatever was in the mountains with us and confront him. In case things go bad we'll run
somewhere else so he can't find you, one said. We asked them to stay but nobody was able to move a
finger to actually stop them from leaving. There was no more singing, only weeping and barely
audible prayers. I just didn't want to die there. I wanted to see my
family. After a while we heard some noises followed by the voices of our friends. They
came back at a calm pace with relief in their faces. It was all just a misunderstanding one
explained. It's just a park ranger. We found him and he explained to us that he was just walking
around as part of his duty said the other and the bloody stick was just from a rabbit he had hunted for dinner. It was quite a relief and we
relaxed. Someone even spoke about taking out our sleeping bags and going to sleep and that sounded
wonderful, but it wasn't long until one of the older guys said he was a bit suspicious.
You see, he wasn't wearing a uniform, he said, nor a badge or anything that could
identify him as a ranger, answered another. And who walks kilometers away from the closest road,
late at night, to hunt rabbits? Are there even rabbits in this altitude?
Terror came back in a second. They were right. That story didn't make any sense.
Let's go back there and freaking threaten him, one of the older guys said.
We asked them to stay with us again and got the same results.
Once they were gone, someone said that maybe he had followed them and now knew exactly where we were.
We all shivered in panic.
Nobody was paying the slightest attention to anyone else anymore.
Nobody cried and nobody prayed.
I remember I only had one thought in my mind.
I'd rather kill than get killed in this terrible place. We waited seated, silent and ready to fight
for our lives. We all had our knives out and ready. Minutes passed and suddenly we heard people
running and approaching. We heard screams of terror. From the sound it was obvious there were
more than two people coming at us. I hadn't been more scared in my life. I hoped I could say goodbye to my mom,
my dad and my sister. My knife was ready to stab whoever came close to me. We finally saw our two
friends running for their lives being followed by two men. They came just at the front of the
opening of the shelter and stopped. The two men chasing
them did the same and we could see their faces. They were our camp leaders who had been following
us all the time but hiding and the four started laughing at us and asking if we were scared.
It was just a joke the entire time. Everyone started crying and some even had trouble to
grasp proper breaths due to anxiety for quite a
while. We were all not amused and only after a couple minutes the funny four realized what they
had done. They had taken 13 children to the point of holding a knife and being willing to kill with
it. We obviously relaxed a lot but our fears became anger. It had been a joke way out of
proportion or the most basic of common
sense. They spent quite a while saying how sorry they were but we didn't care. We wanted them to
leave us alone. But on the other hand we were still too scared to sleep on our own so we reluctantly
accepted that they all came to sleep with us. It took them months to regain our trust again.
It was the worst night of my life, no doubts.
I've never had nightmares about it, but I remember it like it was yesterday.
Now that I'm older, I always like to think of what would have happened if two guys had been there to kill us.
We were children, sure, but armed and ready to defend ourselves if need be.
I'm a journalist, so I can't help but think of some headlines.
Two murderers stabbed
to death in the mountains by 13 children. Things were a lot different back then and the Scouts
has definitely changed for the better. When I was in my early 20s, I had a friend with a psychotic alcoholic father.
She didn't live with him, he lived in a remote little coastal town.
Now and again we would go together to visit him and stay the night.
My relationship with him was creepy in itself, but that isn't the subject now.
One night when we were visiting, my friend and her dad had a drunken blow
up and kicked us out of the house. It was about midnight. We had gotten the lift down and didn't
have a car. My friend's dad lived about four kilometers out of town. A huddle of two or three
shops by way of a dirt road. We started walking down the dirt road to the town where there was
a telephone booth. This was in the days before it was commonplace to have a mobile phone. I was going to call my folks who lived about an hour and
a half away and see if they would come get us. The whole way to town my friend was drunkenly moaning
and crying about her broken relationship with her father and she didn't let up by the time we got to
the phone booth. We sat on the bench next to the phone while I woke my parents up. They agreed to come get us and I sat down on the bench for the long wait.
Shortly after this, a van appeared and parked just behind the bench we were sitting on,
maybe five meters away.
There were two young men in the front seats and they were looking at us.
If that didn't make me nervous enough, the van door slid open and I saw there were a
number of young guys in the back.
I don't remember
how many, more than two. The place we were sitting was deserted. There were no houses nearby,
just more road. No people, nowhere to run, no one driving by. It was a crappy little nowhere town.
I stood up so I could see them better and kept my eyes fixed on the van full of men,
acutely aware of our vulnerability.
What I saw was that they were looking back at us.
They were talking among themselves, quietly at first, then they started talking more and
more loudly.
It became evident that they were deliberately talking loud enough for us to hear.
They were talking about pulling us into the van and taking us somewhere to have their
way with us and kill us.
I can't remember the exact words but that was the gist of it. My whole body was not shaking
but quaking with terror. I couldn't take my eyes off the men. I remember the face of one of them
so clearly I could draw it now. It was just sitting in the door of the van looking at me with no expression looking at me with dead eyes looking at me like I was a thing at this time my drunk friend hadn't
stopped sobbing to herself whether she knew the van was there at all I couldn't say I knew I had
to tell her about the danger but I was actually so full of terror I couldn't move I couldn't speak
that was when the most incredible thing happened.
My friend's father, who has never apologized to anyone in his life, appeared drunk in his car.
It's hard to describe how unlikely it was for him to do this. He could hold a grudge like no one
you've ever met and he was such a stubborn mule. He and my friend had an emotional reunion. The
whole time my eyes were fixed on the van.
The men had stopped talking and were just watching us. Let's go, I said. We got in the car and started
heading for my friend's dad's house. The van started up and began to follow us. I tried to
explain to my friend's dad about the men but he said I'll just slow down and they can pass.
They slowed to a crawl behind us and then they began to shout out of the windows, screaming threats.
They followed us all the way down the dirt road and then all the way down the driveway of my friend's dad's house.
They just sat in the van behind us and we sat in the car waiting to see what would happen.
All of my friend's dad's neighbors were holiday homes and nobody was in that night.
We knew that if the group of men decided to get out of the van and carry out those threats,
we would get no help.
After a very long time the van backed out of the driveway and they left.
My parents came in a panic to the house when they couldn't find us at the shops.
My friend's dad hid in shame and I went back to my family's house.
I've been asked if I went to the police but I can't remember. I don't think I did. It was a messed up time in my life but that
incident changed me forever. I'm a very fearful person now and very overprotective of my kids
and I don't want to change because I'd rather be like this than accidentally trust one of the
millions of psychos out there.
I used to live in a part of Memphis, Tennessee that was a little shaky.
It was right on the edge of what some would call the ghetto,
but also there was a nearby area that was pretty secluded and desolate as it lived on the outskirts of the city, kind of near the
industrial part near Raleigh for anyone unfamiliar. I was an 8 year old boy when this happened and my
sister was 5 years older. The two of us went for walks on occasion. This time we went to the back
of the housing division and further than we'd gone before. This area was pretty dirty and desolate
for such a city. Just train tracks and a nearby industrial facility. Lots of dry tan grass coming
through spots in the railroad gravel. Lots of dusty crap people dumped illegally around the tracks.
There used to be a pack of stray dogs that frequented my neighborhood but other than that
no people or cars would ever really be seen out there. Not that far behind my neighborhood but other than that no people or cars would ever really be seen out there,
not that far behind my neighborhood anyway. We were just walking along the tracks, talking,
throwing rocks when I saw some strange movement just beyond the tree line of this small wooded
area about 40 feet ahead of my 11 o'clock position. I told my sister to look as we walked a bit closer.
We made it to about 10 to 15 feet away from the wooded area
when we realized the movement was in fact a mime of all things.
In the middle of nowhere seemingly,
hidden amongst the trees and thick dead vines that adorn the edge of the wooded area,
painted face, black striped shirt with black pants.
He had the exaggerated expressions of a mime too.
His eyes got really wide and he seemed to start, I don't know, performing for us. He was kind of
doing it in a way to, I guess, attract us, maybe entice us beyond the small wall of thick vines
and brush and into the wooded area where he stood, or lurked to be more precise. I honestly couldn't tell you
much about him as we ran away pretty quickly. I do however remember that it was a very hot day
outside that day and his makeup was pretty dingy and gross as were his clothes. I know this sounds
pretty unbelievable but I assure you it happened. I sometimes wonder who that mime was. I'm sure he wasn't there to
kidnap children but who knows what would have happened if we'd gone to that thicket. And why
there? He was just simply insane I think. His mind was gone. Which is far more creepy than any
kidnapping stranger I've ever read about. This happened last year. School had just started and my only child
was in kindergarten. She had only been in school a few days. We live in a rural area and we only
have one car. So in the mornings, my daughter, her dad and I get up to take her dad to
work. Then my daughter and I come home and get ready for school. Because we live in a rural
dead-end dirt road we have to drive about a half mile down the main road where her bus picks her
up. Everything was fine that morning. I got on the bus and headed home. I had the day off from work.
I only work part-time so days off in the middle of
the week was normal for me. Anyway I was doing some house cleaning and putting away some laundry.
I went into my daughter's room and started hanging up some clothes in her closet.
I had the tv on the living room watching it from her room. Then I hear what sounds like a soft
muffled cough. I freeze. I have no idea what that was. I have no idea what to do. I'm just
standing there almost paralyzed. My mind is racing. Maybe the cat is outside her window hacking up a
hairball. Was I going crazy? Maybe it was the TV. It must have been the TV, right? Yeah, it's probably
nothing. At this point I am standing in a room holding a shirt and hanger not moving a muscle.
I really have no idea what to do.
I then think I should head next door to have my father-in-law check it out.
I say out loud, screw it.
I drop the shirt and hanger and take off running to the house next door.
Luckily my in-laws live in the house right next door only about a football field away and my
father-in-law is on disability so he is almost always home. He is in his mid-60s and on oxygen
tank most of the time so I don't really know what I thought he could do to help protect me
but I was just really freaked out and didn't want to be alone and he was a hunter and hunters have
guns. So I am running faster than I have ever ran before
across our yard and I bust into his back door screaming his name. He comes walking out of the
kitchen looking annoyed that I just scared the crap out of him. I am on the verge of tears trying
to tell him something is going on in my house but I also am talking so fast he can't figure out what
I am saying. So he tried to calm me down and I tell him I think someone might be in the house.
He asks if I'm sure and I say yes.
I'm begging him to come over and just check it out and he agrees.
He grabs his gun and we get in his truck and drive over to my house.
I wait in the truck with the doors locked while he goes inside.
I am freaking out looking all around me.
He is in there
for what seems like forever. He finally comes out and asks if I left a pack of Newports in a room
right near her bed on the floor. Now, I am a smoker but I smoke camels. I have never bought
Newports in my life. I tell him no, those aren't mine. His eyes get huge and he gets a really panicky look on his face.
He tells me to stay in the truck and call the cops. He hands me his phone and I dial 911.
The lady says we have to wait for the state troopers because we don't live in town.
They seriously take like an hour to get out to us. I have already called my husband at work.
He called his brothers to come pick me up. He doesn't work far from home
so it only took about 20 minutes for them to show up. My father-in-law, my husband and his brother
are now walking all around in the woods that surround the houses. Nothing. There isn't anyone
around besides us. After a while the state trooper shows up and takes a look around and he finds
nothing as well. He takes the pack of
cigarettes, I guess as evidence and takes my statement along with my father-in-law's statement.
He tells this there really isn't anything he can do. I can't tell him what the guy or girl looks
like because I didn't see him. There is nothing. Just a sound I heard and some smokes on the floor.
Nothing is missing from the house. There isn't anyone there now and
it doesn't look like forced entry. Of course, there isn't going to be forced entry. We're in
the middle of nowhere. Why would I bother to lock my doors when I leave to go somewhere?
I feel like such an idiot but nobody locks the doors around here. I don't even have a key for
the door on my key ring. We just keep it on top of the outside fridge as a just in case. After the trooper leaves my father-in-law gives my husband the gun to hold
on to in case someone comes back. My husband and brother-in-law change all the locks and all the
doors that day and now we keep a key on our key rings and keep the doors locked at all times.
We didn't take our daughter out of school that day. She was only five and we
thought it would just stress her out. We did let the school know to be on the lookout for some
weird activity and we had talked with our daughter about stranger danger and what to do if she sees
someone in the house she doesn't know. I did have her sleep in our bed for a few weeks but
she seemed like she wanted to go back to her room because she's not a baby anymore. But that's it.
Life moved on and nothing has happened since. We never heard from the trooper or anything like
that. We never had another incident like that again either. I have no idea what they were
planning on doing. I don't know if they were after me or my daughter or if they just wanted
to rob us. I don't think I'll ever know. I still get paranoid from time to time
and I hate to be alone in the house.
My husband got me a dog to keep me company
and help protect us.
I hope with time the fear will get less and less.
Please always lock your doors
no matter how safe you think your neighborhood is.
You never know who might just be passing through.
This happened to my father and my mother years before I or my older brother were born,
but even for not being there, this story sends chills down my back.
A few years after my father had graduated from CSU, my mother had graduated from TCU and they both had jobs at a small company in Fort Worth, Texas. Having met a few company
parties and hitting things off a few years later, they finally got married and my father got a job
in Colorado for a small but growing engineer company. So off they go, packing up and moving from Fort Worth, Texas to
Colorado. Getting a car with their few belongings, they start to make their way to Colorado. Now I'm
not sure why they took the road they did, but instead of a larger interstate highway, my father
and mother decide to take a smaller, not so traveled one on a highway on their final stretch
back to my father's hometown to catch highway 14 to their new home.
Having driven all day and it being the middle of the night,
my father had the idea of pulling off to the side of the road to sleep for a few hours
before waking up and finishing out the journey.
There were no rest stops on this highway so it was either side of the road or nowhere to rest.
My mother agreed but maybe 20 minutes after stopping and trying to get some
sleep my mother didn't feel comfortable and decided instead of sleeping here she would drive
while my father rested and when he woke up she would rest a while while he took over. Just to
reiterate this is a not so traveled highway. There are no lights and my parents are in the middle of
nowhere and the nearest city or town is miles away.
Not a mile or two down the road my mother notices something on the side of the road and as she gets closer notices a single man in the middle of nowhere with no lights or anything
just walking on the side of the road in the direction of where my parents were just parked.
There was no car broken down farther up the road and there was nothing in miles to justify why this man would be walking on the side of the road.
My parents don't bring it up much but they have wondered what would have happened if they had both fallen asleep in their car that night with a man walking on a stretch of road that can kill you from thirst.
Strangers out there are strange indeed.
To give you some context, this occurred roughly 14 years ago when I was 12 years old and living on the east side Australian rainforest.
When I say rainforest, our house was on a 40 acre property surrounded by bush. The house
itself was owned by a Swiss man named Hans. Occasionally he would come down with his tractor
and slash the long grass surrounding our house so we could access slightly more of the property in
the summer. It was also extremely handy because if you know anything about Australia, it's that
we have tons of beasties that can very easily kill you. We lived about a
40-minute drive from the small town center. This meant that if we needed groceries, medical
attention, or to contact our parents, say while we're at school, it would be a 40-minute drive
before anything could be done. The house sat on the side of a large mountain roughly three-fourths
of the way up, so naturally most of the land we called home was strewn with valleys,
nooks, and hideaways. We had trails that we could walk, and they led to a stream and a small waterfall, five to six meter drop. It was a truly beautiful place, but considerably scary to me and
my smaller siblings, one brother and one sister slightly younger than me. We knew our neighbors
on both sides of the property, but because the location of our house was pretty remote, our nearest neighbors were roughly a 10 minute drive away. One was a lovely
old lady who used to wave to us when we got off the school bus before we made the trek to our
house every day. I think our parents asked for her to keep an eye on us. The other was a middle-aged
man in his family. He was a real jerk who excavated around the bottom border where our
properties met and continuously interrupted the stream and waterfalls clear flowing water supply.
Lots of strange and creepy crap when you're living in the middle of nowhere but
one in particular involved a guy I certainly don't want to meet again.
Being pretty removed from people it was extremely rare that we ever got visitors we didn't know
were coming. When people we didn't recognize turned up it was usually because they were lost and needed directions.
One day though a man in a utility vehicle came roaring down our driveway. I remember running
inside to tell my dad someone weird was here. He immediately walked outside to see who this
unwanted guest was. A little background about my dad, he is literally the most hardcore person
you will ever meet. He has one leg after having it amputated earlier in his life after having an
accident on a motorcycle while he was running from the police. He was in the navy and was brought up
in a very strict household. He had grown up in a very rough part of Sydney's west so he had some
pretty shady contacts too. In short, he is someone you really don't want to mess with.
I wouldn't be surprised if he had killed someone in his life prior to having kids.
Anyway my dad goes outside to see what all the commotion is about while my mom keeps us inside
being protective. The man has a large red furred dog in the back of his car that looks like a
German shepherd cross. It snarled at my dad but immediately cowered when this stranger told it to shut up. Our own dog Millie, renowned beast killer just
for the record, was snarling and going ballistic while being chained up in the house.
Hey, my name is John. The way the man spoke was like a salesperson, a really slick and smooth guy
who was on the outside seemed friendly but with the overtone of wanting something. So my dad immediately responded with,
so what are you doing here John? What do you want? The man was taken aback, obviously not used to
dealing with someone as hostile as my dad. Then they talked for a while and I could hear my dad
talking with a sense of confusion about whatever this man had to say. I did however hear my dad talking with a sense of confusion about whatever this man had to say. I did however
hear my dad say, what are you thinking? Just call the cops. I found out later that the lovely old
lady next to us had died. Apparently John was on the other side of her property and went to visit
her and found her dead. He also asked my dad if they should move the body to make it easier for
police to investigate. This is obviously why my dad was
telling the man to call the police immediately. So later that night the police showed up to take
a statement from my dad and John who was hanging around at our house until the police arrived.
I remember my dad pulling an officer aside and explaining that John wanted to move the body when
he first arrived. P.S. the reason I know all of this is from asking my mother at the time and my father
some years later. The police left without any more questions as it looked like she had died from
natural causes. John was still at her house. I found him to be a very unsettling person. The way
he smiled, the dark of his eyes. He was unfamiliar but acting like he was one of us. I remember it
was a school night and I was trying
to watch TV and he was playing songs on his guitar with my mom and dad at the table. I was angry
because he was ruining my shows and I told mom I wanted him to go and that I thought he was weird.
She smiled and told me that she felt the same and told me I should go to bed. The next day things
seemed normal, went to school, came home. Not seeing the familiar
friendly face of the old woman stung a bit on my way past her house. It felt strange and I
hoped that she knew her family loved her before she passed. I was a bit sad on the walk home
until halfway down the driveway I noticed John's utility vehicle again parked out of the front of
her house. I walked closer and was greeted by his dog,
Rusty. He walked outside with my dad and I heard him call Rusty to his car as he was leaving.
Apparently he was borrowing tools from my dad. He left and waved goodbye like he was someone that I
was going to miss. Again, that sense of our over-familiarity made me feel uncomfortable.
I didn't know this man and I didn't like this man and I was hoping he would never come
down to our driveway again. My dad then pulled me aside and asked me what I thought of John.
I labeled him a weirdo and told my dad I was hoping he wouldn't come back. For the second
night in a row when John returned dad's tools he was sitting in our house playing guitar and
annoying everyone. My mom and dad were visibly unimpressed by the situation.
I heard my mom and dad argue about him hanging around until eventually my dad told him he needed to leave as it was time for us to go to bed. He insisted that it was early and tried to make an
excuse to stay. I found that very odd. I was polite enough to know when someone didn't want me around
so why didn't this man? Or if he he did know why wouldn't he leave? After
ushering him out my mom and dad had a big talk in their room. My dad told us that he didn't like
John and he was going to ask him not to come over anymore and if we saw John again to immediately
tell him. The next day was a Saturday so we were going to blow up our cheap inflatable pool and go
for a swim as it was pretty warm out. Around 11am the
sound of a car thundering down the driveway alerts me and I go outside. I run back inside to tell my
dad that John is back. Just like the first time I ever laid eyes on John my dad goes outside
and we stay inside with my mom watching and listening through a screen door.
John again with his weird over familiar smile and dark eyes greets
my dad and is met with, look mate I don't know who you think you are but I don't want you coming
around here anymore. You scare my kids and wife and I don't want you to come back. Do you understand?
I didn't hear John's reply from his tone. It sounded like he was confused and tried to reason
with my dad. Dad wasn't having it and told him to go or he would call the It sounded like he was confused and tried to reason with my dad.
Dad wasn't having it and told him to go or he would call the cops. As he was leaving dad said,
don't come back or you'll be sorry. This is where things truly get weird. As my dad lays this subtle threat on the man his face completely changes to one of rage. He glares at us in the house,
sticks up his finger and speeds out on
the driveway shouting profanities and churning up gravel, spraying it towards our house.
My dad came back and told us we wouldn't be seeing John anymore and if we did,
we were going to call the police. I was relieved. This odd man made me feel uncomfortable in my
home and the way he reacted when he left confirmed the feeling I got from him when I first saw him. I can't remember if it was the Sunday or the Monday
after that but John did come back. He tried to reason with my dad and say sorry for whatever
caused us not to like him. Before he even got out of the utility vehicle my dad said,
if you don't turn around and leave I'm going to smash your face in. He did just that. My dad said, if you don't turn around and leave, I'm going to smash your face in.
He did just that.
My dad then called the police to inform them of what happened.
Apparently they were going to go talk to John.
I didn't hear any more of what happened to that conversation.
A few weeks went by with no sightings or happening with John and we all felt like things were back to normal.
This was until our mailbox had been tipped out of the ground and smashed or possibly run over. I remember asking my dad what happened but he wasn't about to give me any ideas. He later told me that he knew it was John after the way that last conversation ended.
The next week after the mailbox incident we went into town to get groceries and a fast food dinner
as a bit of a treat and as we came down to the driveway my dad
immediately stopped my mom from proceeding and said that something was wrong. Next to the carport
where we parked our car at the back of the house there was a window that was open to the bathroom.
My dad must have spotted the window was missing. As we drove down he got increasingly more intense
until we all noticed the window was missing. I remember being
confused in the back seat not really knowing what was going on until I saw it. A man, dark eyes,
over familiar coming from the window that led to the shower. My dad was exploding with rage. He
told my mom to rush down the driveway so we could mess this guy up. The man proceeded to escape the
window and run down the back of our
property into the thick lantana, a really thorny shrub-like plant. My dad only being on one leg
let Millie loose as she was going ballistic tied up to the house. She raced down the lantana
engulfed hill into the darkness. She came back with nothing. My dad went out with his flashlight
and couldn't find anything either.
I'm not sure if anyone slept that night. None of our possessions had been stolen or even moved.
We must have caught this man just as he was entering our house. The police came the next day and searched for footprints with no avail. My father was furious and again alerted them to
John and his strange behavior. They told us they would
look into it once again. That was the last time we heard from John that year. I had almost completely
forgotten about him and had the summer off to enjoy myself and get ready for high school.
The school we went to was pretty large considering where we were but everyone seemed to know each
other pretty well including the teaching staff. Within my first week at the
school we were introduced to all the teachers and teacher aides. I was caught completely unaware when
that over familiar dark eyed man from the previous year was reintroduced as a teacher aide. Except
instead of John he was introduced as Gregory. I went into a little bit of a spin as I was trying to make sense of it all.
I was 100% sure that this man named Greg something was the same man who had introduced himself to my family as John. At that moment so many things rushed into my head. What if he killed
the old lady? What if he didn't live close by? What if he wanted to move the body so he could
frame my dad? If he lied about something as critical as his name, what else was he lying about?
What if police never even made contact with him?
I was sitting there for a good ten minutes trying to piece it together until the teacher called my name to bring me back to reality.
This is when he noticed me.
The look on his face when he saw mine was one I'll never forget.
He immediately recognized me.
He looked shocked.
His eyes were wide and he said nothing.
Just staring, I had just found out his dirty little secret.
I could sense that he was now the one feeling uncomfortable and on edge.
Later that day, I rushed home to tell my dad who I had found.
He was shocked and repeatedly asked me if I was sure.
I went to the school
the next day and discovered the man had put in for indefinite leave yesterday and may not return.
When we learned of the news, my dad told me to watch out and let him know should John or Greg
ever return. turn. A year or two ago my boyfriend, his cousin, and his cousin's friend decided to do a three to
four day hike. We planned to do about 15 miles a day and camp out at night. We were so exhausted
but not prepared for the heavy packs we would have to carry. So the first day goes okay. We're
all exhausted and my boyfriend and I realize how out of shape we are as we struggle with the heavy
packs. We wake up and my boyfriend's cousin tells us he could have sworn he saw flashlights and heard
people walking around our campsite which made us nervous because we didn't see almost anyone as we
hiked the first day. This has nothing to do with
the story but still something I find creepy. The second day we start hiking again and we slowly
make our way realizing we will not be hiking as far as we would hope when my boyfriend starts
complaining about his foot. His toe is starting to turn black I guess from the bruising of his
boots while we walk downhill. Now what we were trying to figure out is how we were going to make it to the nearest road to try to get back to the car.
After what seems like forever trying to get back to the road using a map
and having to cross a river like the mountain men, and women we are, finally make it to a road.
Now the problem is finding the way back to the car which is most likely miles from where we are.
When a pickup truck pulls over and asks if we need help, we say yes.
We need to find a car and ask them which way is the road.
They offer a ride and look at all of us individually.
They then say, we'll take the girl with straight faces.
Now, I'm not the best looking girl at the best of times and especially now I was extra gross from living in the forest for a day and a half
my group all say
no
no you're not
so my boyfriend and his cousin decide to go with them since there wasn't enough room for everyone
they open the truck store
and out pour empty beer cans
we do not get a good feeling about this but
they go anyway with their hatchets
on their belts just in case. So now my friend and I are sitting on the side of the road when I say
what if they don't come back to which my friend says he memorized their license plate just in case.
He is a smart guy that one. Eventually they come pick us up in our car telling us how these guys
were speeding down these narrow roads and being reckless so thank god they made it back safe the hike was a fail
but at least we're still alive right i just have no idea what would have happened
if only i went with them in their car
hey friends thanks for listening be sure to subscribe and click that notification bell to To be continued... Thanks for watching! in long compilation form and save huge on data. Located on both Spotify and Apple Podcasts.
Links in the bio.
Oh, excuse me.
Why are you walking so close behind me?
Well, you're a tall guy.
You throw a decent shadow when I'm walking in it
to keep out of this bright sun.
It hurts my eyes.
Okay, well, you know what?
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Where's the nearest store?
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Come on.
Let's hurry then.
To my count.
One, two, one, two, one, two.
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