The Lets Read Podcast - 9: Episode 009 | Twitch Streamer & Stalker Stories | 30 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: October 30, 2018

Welcome to the ninth episode of The Lets Read Podcast! This podcast includes narrations of true creepy encounters submitted by normal folks just like yourself. Today you'll experience horrifying stories about Twitch Streamers, Creepy Stalkers, & Freaky Hobos.  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

Something that I've done on and off for three years or so is stream on Twitch. I'm 21 at the time and use streaming as a coping mechanism for PTSD induced social anxiety. I was assaulted in the military and my assailant was let off the hook while I was medically discharged instead of taken care of, but that's a story for another time. I've been streaming League of Legends mainly and without a job I've had plenty of time to try building a following and streaming through the night.

I'm still fairly new to streaming at this point and haven't met many other female streamers so I don't have much advice to go off when it comes to what I should and shouldn't do. You know the saying, hindsight is 20-20? Anywho, I digress. One night I'm streaming and someone named Checker or something DM'd me during the stream. For some reason it seems to generally be foreign guys creeping. He's talking and asking for my Skype. I'm like okay it's just Skype so whatevs. I give it to him and he starts messaging me and calls. I remember he called but I don't remember when during the stream like if I paused it or something. I remember I heard his voice at one point. He starts off with some prodding questions but really quickly starts getting personal, asking what I'm wearing, am I shaved. I tell him I'm uncomfortable and I'm not going to answer his question. He asks for pictures and I flat out reject him. He gets angry and tells me he's going

to hack my computer and track me down. Midstream I have a panic attack and shut everything off. What can I do? Can you really do that? I ask the stream. A follower I have actually become really close friends with called me and consoled me for at least an hour in the middle of the night. I didn't stream for a long time after that. A few weeks go by and I'm checking my email. I'm getting mailer demons saying my emails aren't going through. What emails? I haven't sent any since I applied to colleges. I look at my sent emails and I've been having spam sent out. What? I call Yahoo support and the usual Middle Eastern Indian support guy picks up.

I'm on the phone with Yahoo and I'm angry. They're doing the remote check and they say that I've been infected with a virus with a funny name. I think it began with a K. The guy on the line says they'll scrub my email clean of any of the aftermath for $80 and I'm livid. Why should I have to pay for something some jerk did when you guys were supposed to be keeping my email secure? I refused to pay this guy and after multiple attempts at getting my credit card information, I hung up. I changed passwords and security questions whenever I could to reinforce security. I wiped my computer and basically started fresh. A month after the initial Skype incident I got a call. I answered. Hello? Hello? No one talked, just hung up on me. This was before the barrage of robo calls

everyone gets nowadays and I was on a do not call list. I am a pretty strong willed individual with a maybe too high level of self respect. I was going to find out who called me and why. I called twice. Once was a pick up and hang up, the next there was a pause. Hello? Why did you call me? What do you want? No response. Why did you call me? I just wanted to hear your voice again. Never call me again, creep! I hung up and started having an anxiety attack. I told my husband who called and what just happened and he told me to call T-Mobile and have my number changed. I dialed 611 as soon as I could, all the while trying to keep my lunch down. The guy who threatened to hack my computer actually did it and got my cell number.

I turned on my computer, logged into my Skype account and screenshotted all of his messages. I filed a report with Microsoft, Twitch and called my local police department. Though, with the situation, they didn't have much they could give except advice. Microsoft assured me that they were taking this matter seriously and going to ban his account. All my passwords were changed to any sort of email or online account and I have unlinked any phone numbers. I later talked to streamers who have had something similar happen or even had a somewhat successful attempt of their identity stolen. I say somewhat because they were later arrested. I stopped streaming for a year until one of my friends peer pressured me,

saying how much she missed watching me and hanging out online. I restarted streaming and stopped using Skype altogether. But I hope I never have to run into this checker guy again. So a few days was the last great pit party before the beginning of the new school year here. For those unfamiliar, a pit party is basically when a bunch of us high schoolers meet at a gravel pit outside of town, drink blaster-stereotypical small-town country music, and burn leftover pallets. Someone usually decides to put a pit party on and is in charge of organizing everything out there too. This party in particular was supposed to have people from over 100 kilometers away show up for one last hurrah, meaning that you were bound to actually meet some new people at this one.

I showed up to the pit at around 10pm with a friend of mine, we'll call her Katie, and already there were a ton of people we both knew and didn't. At the entrance to the pit you could grab a glow stick that matches your relationship status as a fun little twist. Green for single, red for taken, yellow for DTF, blue for it's complicated, and purple for just here to party. Katie and I both had on a purple one, but before the main event of this story, I added a red one for a boyfriend I recently got. After a while, Katie and I both grabbed a twisted tee from the bag around my shoulders, and we found a girl we'll call Danielle. For a bit of context, Danielle easily fits herself in with the smokers and low achievers. At the time when she attended our school here, she was suspended within the first five days for having vodka stashed in her locker.

Anyways, Katie, Daniela, and I all getting a little tipsy, though Katie and Danielle more than I. We would constantly go out behind the gravel pits to pee in groups of course and just go talk to people we haven't seen all summer. But here's where things start to go sideways. Danielle, Katie and I are sitting on the side of the gravel hill, still facing the bonfire and just behind a group of boys. Then almost out of the shadows five men are standing in front of us, blocking our view of everyone else in the fire. Already I was a little wary as to why these guys are easily in their twenties we're at a party hosted by and for teenagers.

One of the guys is standing over us and he introduces himself as Lucas, and his other buddies are Tanner, William, Nathan, and Tyson. So aren't you guys a little too young to be drinking? Tanner said first. Katie spoke up, too drunk to get the vibes I was getting off these guys. Yeah, yeah, whatever. So what are your names then? Katie, Danielle, and I each stuck out our hands and replied, but I chose to leave my last name out. How old are you? 16? All three of us said back. We're 24 and Nathan over here is getting married soon. This is his bachelor party. What? Admittedly, I finished the drink I was on and could already feel the effects even while still sitting down. I glanced over and these guys whipped out a bong out of nowhere and are passing

it around us. I pass but start feeling the alarm bells and red flashing lights telling me to haul it out of there. I look around the party trying to make eye contact with as many people that I knew. Without me realizing, Danielle and Katie wandered off on their own to leave me with these guys. That's when I feel an arm wrapped around my shoulder. It was Tyson and he reeked of booze. Oh, you're so cold, girly. You better warm up. He said that so greasily I could barely swallow the words. He started rubbing my shoulders and I kept looking around for someone to notice how uncomfortable I looked. Tyson noticed the red and purple glow sticks around my wrist. Oh, so here's your boyfriend here tonight? I should have just said yes, but yet I responded with a no. Oh, so I guess you won't be needing this then. And with that,

he was taking off the red and trying to slip on a yellow around my wrist. No, no, I really do need that one. However, a girl who had just graduated finally saw the look I was sweeping around the party and came up to me, whispering in my ear, Are you alright? No, please help me. Loudly she said, Okay Sam, come to the bathroom with me. And it was over like that.

I tried to talk to Katie about it a few minutes later and she only had to say that she noticed that I didn't look okay. I understand that she couldn't have known what to do but still, she knew. Those guys quickly booked it and I thanked the girl profusely for getting me out of there. I know this could have ended much worse but it was still a horrifying moment realizing that these grown men were trying to take advantage of me, leering like hungry hyenas at what they thought was a completely wasted teen. Ladies and guys out there, please watch out for your friends, and if you notice that anyone isn't comfortable in a situation like that, don't be afraid to try to make even the smallest of interventions. For some back story, I'm a 19 year old university student living in a small town in Australia,

where nothing interesting ever really happens and people just cruise through life pretty relaxed. It was Tuesday and I was having a day at home because it was raining and I had a test that I really needed to study for. At about 11am I was starting to get cabin fever so I decided to take my dog for a walk seeing as there was a break in the rain. He is a West Highland Terrier called Hugo and is probably the cutest thing ever. Anyway, we set off on our usual route which takes us along the streets of my suburb and

partly through a nearby golf course because my dog likes to try and play with the kangaroos. This isn't important to the story but it's pretty funny to watch. The place where this all went down was a park aptly named the Snake Park because, well, you can probably guess why. To explain this full story, I need to describe how the park is set up. The park has three entry points, two of which lead onto roads leading back to my house, and the other kind of a thoroughfare filled with bushes leading onto another smaller park. Most of the park is surrounded by dense bushland and behind it is on one side there are the backyards of a number of houses that face the park. This is important. So me and my dog were fooling around and playing in the sandpit of a kid's playground

in the middle of the park when it started raining heavily. We found some shelter and once it had stopped I decided we should go home before it rained again. I should also mention that on my walk and in the park itself there was nobody, probably because people have stuff to do at 11am on a Tuesday. I started walking to one of the exits that led to the road back to my house, my dog behind me sniffing bushes. This exit is exactly directly opposite the one with thoroughfare and was pretty far away, maybe 500 meters, and was pretty obscured from view. After walking for a bit I looked behind me to check if my dog was following me but he had disappeared into the

bushes a few meters away so I went back in order to get him and called out his name. Hugo, come here boy. This is where it got strange. As soon as I said that, the quiet and silent surroundings erupted with noise. It was as though there were tiny microphones in the trees amplifying the sound of a woman shouting and screaming into a microphone or some sort of amplifying system. I could not understand what she was saying, but the sound waves were so strong that I could literally feel my body pulsate as the sound reverberated throughout the park and my dog cowered behind me. Despite the sheer volume of noise, I could not work out where it was coming from. Logic told me that it was probably coming from the group of houses

coming from the other side of the park, but it was impossible to tell. Surely if it had been coming from a specific house, the noise would have traveled and I would have been able to identify its location. Instead, it felt as though it was coming from all directions, left, right, and even above my head. After about 30 seconds, the screaming and and shouting stopped and my dog and I looked at each other pretty shaken up. Looking for an answer I thought maybe it was me. After all it

did happen after I called Hugo's name. So I tried again and called, Hugo come here boy. Once again the park erupted in the screams of a woman. The noise was so loud and yet I couldn't understand what she was saying. It was like being right next to the speaker at a rock concert. There was too much pressure on my eardrums to actually make out any words. But again after maybe 20 seconds this time the noise stopped and my dog and I booked it onto the main road. Now if you've gotten this far, you're probably thinking, what? This is weird. It was probably just some neighbor playing with a sound system. That's what I thought too, but there are a number of weird things about this. The first is that the volume of the noise was like being at a rock concert, but in the middle

of a quiet suburb. Who has a sound system that loud? And secondly after this happened my dog and I sat near the main road for a while near the park wondering if maybe somebody would come and investigate the noise but nobody came. Eventually on our way home we met another dog walker and asked if they had heard the woman screaming and they replied that they hadn't and they'd been home all day. It should also be said that I've lived in this suburb for more than a decade and nothing, nothing like this has ever happened. When I got home and started to tell my sister what happened the noise started again. Now my house is about five kilometers away from the park so

if I could hear it from there it must have been pretty loud no? I asked can you hear it to which she replied yeah actually I can. So it could have a logical explanation but it just shocked me quite a bit. Has this happened to anybody else or was it simply my imagination? Either way I'm never going to that park alone, again. School lockdown drills are as common as fire drills. I'm sure every school or county has their own style or individual protocol, but essentially it's the same across the board. Everyone is to get into a classroom, lock the door, turn off the lights,

group into a part of the room out of view from the windows and doors, and stay completely silent. The goal is to disappear from whatever hypothetical act of individual is roaming the hallways. Without these drills, well, the same thing would happen when a school invader first started popping up. Chaos. People fleeing in all directions. Creating a frenzy of targets to choose from and most people would end up in a very terrible situation.

I am, well, was a counselor for an elementary school. My last position was my second, the first being in a terrible place for two years. That first elementary school was a mess, mostly because of the principal. He was old and tired, walking the halls with frazzled white hair and wrinkled button-up shirts with no tie. He seemed he was over it all, counting down the days until his retirement. He showed little interest in my role, practically rolling his eyes at whatever issue brought a child to my door. He clearly had the whole, this generation is soft mentality. Kids aren't depressed or anxious, they're just whining. He handed out reprimands and punishments without any real investigations and treated the staff poorly, and he slacked on drills.

I remember being horrified on my first fire drill there, standing out in the playground in the near-freezing autumn breeze, surrounded by cold and confused students as scattered and disorganized as staff tried to somehow get accountability. The staff and I tried to schedule more drills, tried to get him in on planning, but he could care less. Eventually, he was relieved when teachers had had enough and went to the board, but by then I lost motivation and needed to change. Where I ended up next was refreshing. The principal, a tall and slim middle-aged man with a square jaw and kind eyes, always wearing some version of a cartoon-themed tie, and the staff here take their jobs rather seriously, almost to the point of me feeling too intimidated to share ideas during

meetings when I first arrived. Fortunately, I loosened up over time and when everyone saw how much I cared for the children, I was accepted. I loved it there. I quit two months later. The reason I quit is something I haven't quite gotten over. I still dream about it. I still hear the sounds. The sounds that didn't make any sense as they were happening but came together afterward in a horrific realization. I had been making my rounds that day, checking on my more needy students during their classes, making sure no one was on the verge of a meltdown or anything. I remember feeling relieved to be walking around because I had been sitting in the nurse's office with a first grader who ran and slipped on the slick floor. The custodian was in the middle of mopping.

Luckily there was nothing wrong with the child but I advised the custodian to put up a caution wet floor sign before we had a lawsuit on our hands. I was feeling good until... Lockdown, lockdown, lockdown. It was one of the office administrators over the loudspeaker. At first I was just surprised. Then I felt my heart jump and my fingertips turn icy as I realized the reason I was surprised. There was no drill scheduled that day, which meant this was not a drill. When the announcement blared, I just opened the door to peek into a kindergarten classroom. When the overhead speaker clicked, indicating the end of the announcement, my eyes met with the teacher's, Mr. Jameson.

We froze staring at one another for a good three seconds, her standing with a pointer in one hand with her class all neatly seated in the carpet area. The students were silent, some looking at her and some at me. Then she and I came to do some kind of unspoken agreement. Training kicked in. We both sighed casually and smiled down at the kids. Mrs. Jameson said, well kids, looks like we got a lockdown drill. Let's show Miss Vasquez how well we can do. Sounds good to me, I said as I closed the door and pulled down the curtain to the door's tiny window. I'd love to see how the class does during a lockdown drill. I might have some rewards if you do well. Then I remember something.

I said to the teacher, Janet, I'll be right back, before running out of the room. I had remembered the fourth graders were around the corner from where I was, outside their classrooms and scattered all around the hallway putting up holiday decorations. I was afraid of the chaos that might ensue, kids pushing and shoving to get back to their own classrooms instead of just ducking into the nearest one, as was protocol. Luckily it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. Everyone was calm and well versed on what to do. I herded some lingering and confused kids into rooms and was

about to run back to the kindergarten room when I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. When I turned around, I couldn't help but mutter, seriously? At the end of the hallway, sitting just outside the edge of sunlight that casted through the windows of the double door exit nearby, was a third grader. He was curled up, knees to chest, hood pulled over, but I knew who it was. Charlie. Probably doodling in his stupid sketchbook, listening to music even though electronic devices were banned. The school had warned him dozens of times but he always manages to sneak his phone in. Honestly, I spotted him a few times with the buds in his ears but let it go.

Music and drawing were his thing and he had a rough time at home. I ran over, pulled his hood back and yanked the earbuds out of his ears. Lockdown sweetie, come on. I was tempted to sound more urgent but I wanted to remain casual and not alarm him. Charlie, like all students in that school, took lockdown drills seriously. His eyes widened and he jumped up. We ran over to the nearest room, the computer lab and I used my key to let him in. Then I hesitated. The right thing to do would be to go in with him but I thought about Mrs. Janet Jameson. She was young, her second year teaching and her IA was out sick. I felt I had to help her manage those kids. There was no telling

how long this lockdown would last and she needed the help. I closed the door, turned. I realized I was probably the last one still in the hallway. It was eerie not having another soul in the hallway. It felt abandoned. No, hollow was the right word. It felt like a hollow, a cave. I heard footsteps, rhythmic thuds on the linoleum floor. Boots? No, they were softer than that, although too heavy to be sneakers, or maybe the person making them was big. It was not too far off. I guess I should explain the layout. The school is only one story from a bird's eye view the hallways carve out what looks like two cubes closely stacked on top of each other. The top being where the entrance was. These two cubes were fused together by the same middle hallway. I was at the far bottom of the bottom cube close to the left corner. The footsteps sounded as if they were coming down the left side of the top cube close to the left corner. The footsteps sounded as if they were coming down the left side of a top cube so that if I were to turn down the left corner I'd

end up far away yet face to face with whoever was there. The main problem was that Janet Jameson's room was down that left side hallway. I took off my flats and tiptoed to the left corner. I was tempted to look back to just peek but at the same time was too scared the person would see me. The steps stopped and I heard a hard rattling. He was trying a door. When it didn't open I heard him whisper something, probably cursing to himself, before continuing to walk. And it was a him judging from that whisper. The voice was too deep to be a woman.

I don't know why I waited there, listening to the footsteps coming my way. I suppose I wasn't thinking clearly because I could have just went into the nearest room, yet I had an anxious one-track mind of getting to Mrs. Jameson's room. The man tried another locked door, another hoarse whisper. I thought, I could just sprint to the room, unlock the door and rush in. No, he'd see me and that would only draw attention to Mrs. Jameson's room, thus endangering the children. Plus, what if I couldn't get the key in and unlock the door in time before he ran up to me? I took a backwards step, preparing to run and sprint to the right corner if he got too close when I heard a shift in the echoing steps.

I listened and realized he turned down the middle hallway. I drew in a deep breath and exhaled shakily as I braved to peek around the corner. I was right. I saw no one and yet heard another door being tried so he had to be down that middle hallway. Then to my surprise Mrs. Jameson's door opened without a sound. I saw her face appear within the darkness of the room. Our eyes met and she beckoned me. I didn't hesitate. I didn't want to wait any longer and risk freezing up. I ran and made it in. As soon as I did, Janet carefully closed the door. I saw all the kids cluster in the darkest corner of the room, sitting and staring expectantly at me.

What are you doing? I whispered harshly to the kindergarten teacher. You were not supposed to open the door during a lockdown. You're welcome, she sighed. I just had a bad feeling because you said you'd be back. Plus, after I heard the last door close, I heard a couple of your steps. I assumed they were yours because they clicked like shoes and just knew you were still out there. My shoulders slumped. I could no longer hide my relief or gratefulness. Thank you, Janet. I saw her teeth show in the dark as she smiled. No problem. Just help me keep the kids calm and...

We heard a noise outside. It wasn't close, but it was strange, like a heavy thud. What's that? Asked one of the kids. We shushed him and listened. Silence. Nothing happened for the next twenty or so minutes. Janet and I handed out coloring books

and crayons for the kids to color. We made sure to hand out every one for every color. It sounds petty but the last thing we needed was kids asking to borrow colors and start bickering over it. One of the little girls didn't color. She just stared at us with worrying and waiting eyes. She knew this wasn't a drill. I sat down in one of the small chairs and I signaled her to come to me. She immediately ran over, sat my lap and buried her head into my shoulder. I put my arms around her and whispered reassuring words. The rest of the class noticed this and unfortunately it seemed to make them anxious. Just then we heard footsteps. We all stiffened. The steps were coming our way.

Janet and I met eyes. She was completely pale. The footsteps seemed heavier and less rhythmic. At one point there was some shuffling and some rubbing or dragging of clothes. The man must have stumbled and slid against the wall. Was he hurt? Then the steps resumed, getting closer still. My eyes shot toward the door. The girl and I gripped each other hard with rigid bodies.

We felt almost fused as one statue. There was a ringing in my ears and my eyes burned as I stared unblinkingly at the doorknob. Then bang! It was as if someone threw their weight into the door. The kids screamed. Janet screamed. I almost did but instead put the girl down and ran over to Janet and shook her by the shoulders. She stopped screaming and I pointed to the horrified children. At that moment intense weight seemed to come upon us. I felt everything fade away for a moment. The screaming. The darkness of the room, the single heavy knock against the door that followed after the bang, and within our gaze we came to a mutual declaration.

The kids. We both thought it. We had to keep them safe, and that was all that mattered. The bookshelf, she blurted. I understood and nodded. In response, I said, Use the blanket, okay? She nodded, also I understood and nodded. In response, I said, Use the blanket, okay? She nodded, also understanding.

Then we separated. I ran to the bookshelf and began pushing. It was used to hold other supplies like containers of extra glue sticks and yarn, not books, so it was not as heavy as it could have been, but it was heavy. Shannon? I got it, I got it. The shelf slid across the room, getting easier as I built momentum. The kids were still screaming, but had started to quiet down. I glanced over and saw Janet had already draped the ends of a large green blanket over the coat cubby and another bookshelf, it hung over everyone like a makeshift tent. Good, it would give the kids a sense of feeling hidden. I heard Jenna trying to talk them down. By now the man

was trying the doorknob and I heard a low grunt. I kept pushing and finally with gritted teeth and every muscle in my body hard as rock I made it. I turned the shelf the long way and rested against the door. I turned my back to the shelf and leaned against it. Where's Miss Vasquez? A child cried out. Then the other kids followed and began anxiously calling out to me. I'm here, guys. I tried to sound casual, but my voice was shaking. You guys are the fort and I'm the lookout, Janet said. Yes, she's the lookout. She'll tell us if we are clear or in danger.

Miss Vasquez, are we clear? Oh yes, the danger was here but it passed. We're all clear, kids. As I said this, I prayed there wasn't another thrash against the door. There wasn't. It all stopped. The doorknob stopped jiggling in silence. After a few minutes, I slid down to sit on the door. There wasn't. It all stopped. The doorknob stopped jiggling in silence. After a few minutes I slid down to sit on the floor, still leaning against the bookshelf.

As the silence settled in and I called out five all clears to the kids to offer consistent reassurance, my body began to slowly settle. The moment that crash against the door happened I felt amped up, light on my feet, strong. In fact, I remember when one of these bookshelves were being moved from one classroom to another. It took two custodians, grown men, to slide it along with a struggle. I had managed it alone. It was all adrenaline, and now with the kids calm enough to be singing softly along with Janet under the blanket, I was crashing. To top off my sense of ease, I saw flashing red and blue lights coming in through the windows. It was over and I felt sick. I even smelled copper in the air. I rubbed my nose to check

for a nosebleed but strangely saw nothing. I looked at lights dancing around the ceiling. Yay, guys, I called in a fakest, peppy voice. The policemen are here. They had seen the lights and were already cheering. I tried to say something, I can't remember what, but it was probably to remind them that they still had to remain quiet. Rather than words, I let out a gut-tightening heave. Not much came out, just enough for me to spit. I felt something. Since I was no longer sweating and my skin felt cold and clammy, I became aware of some warmth

beneath me. I was sitting in a puddle. I frowned. I soiled myself, I thought. Great. I shifted to examine my genes to see if it was urine or feces. I saw darkness on the beige tile. I hesitantly touched it. It was too thick to be urine, and I didn't smell anything. Or rather, I didn't smell any bodily waste. That coppery scent from earlier was stronger now. As I leaned away from the bookshelf, I saw the liquid hadn't come from me, but from beneath the bookshelf. No, not the bookshelf. It came from under the door. A stone dropped in my chest as I realized what the liquid

was. It was blood. Blood had been oozing into the room. Noise came from the hallway. The calm rumble of footsteps, deep voices and casual conversation, and chaotic static from walkie-talkies. The police, and it didn't sound like they were in a rush. We all heard them coming closer. Then they stopped walking. They stopped walking and they stopped talking. The only thing we could hear were the walkies. Why were they just standing there?

Then someone among them broke the silence with some expletives before a storm of urgent footsteps came and stopped right outside Janet Jamison's door. Eventually the all clear was given to every class except ours. Janet and I didn't protest or ask any questions. We were too confused, too overwhelmed and worn out. We were on a point of absolute submission because we thought obedience would make things go faster and we can just all go home. I asked Janet for the blanket to cover myself and the pool under me before she turned the lights on and allowed the kids to stretch out. I whispered to her about the blood and she only threw her head back and closed her eyes as if to

say, what else? After an hour, the window gates were unlocked. Janet, the kids, and I exited the class through the windows so we didn't have to open the door and see whatever was happening. I looked stupidly at one of the officers after climbing out of the window and said, I have blood on me. It's not mine. I just said it. I felt I had to before they noticed it themselves. The officer just nodded grimly with no sign of surprise. Then he escorted Janet and I to sit at the open end of an ambulance to be examined. When the medics gave the thumbs up, two officers came over. At first they just stood there, heads up but eyes staring at the ground.

Then they removed their hats and told us there was a dead body in front of Janet Jameson's classroom door. What do you say to something like that? They paused as if giving us room to react or respond. Janet and I just looked at one another. They looked at us. What did they want us to say? As it turns out, they weren't waiting for a reaction. They were giving us a moment to let the news sink in before they hit us with another. This time we reacted. This time we jumped up, asking what they meant. Asking why and how. We freaked.

We acted like they told us the sky just fell. The dead body was the principle. The officer tried to calm us. When we were finally able to sit and listen, one of them offered to explain everything. Then they looked at one another, agreeing on something before looking directly at me. We could show you what happened. I tensed up. The officer quickly added, from the cameras, he means.

You don't have to see him. Watch the recordings. It seemed like the invitation was exclusively for me and Janet didn't say anything. At the time, I didn't understand, but looking back, I think everyone felt I had a right to see. I think they felt I deserved a clear story because I'm the one with someone else's blood all over my pants. I was taken inside the building into the main office. A man with a polo and jeans was seated at one of the administrator's desk, computer ready, waiting for me. With a nod from the officers, they escorted me in.

The man in the polo hit play. There were nine camera shots playing at once on the screen, three each row, all black and white. They all played pretty much the same thing at that moment, the beginning of the lockdown. Just kids through the halls, into classrooms. Each camera just showed incoherent blurs and shifting shades of grey. In less than a minute, the blurs disappeared and the hallway was bare. My attention was then drawn to two screens. One showed me taking my shoes off and tiptoeing.

The other showed the principal walking down the left side of the hallway. The principal stopped at a door and grabbed the door handle. The officer next to me said, The school was transitioning to having new doors, correct? New locks? We were. Our doors were old and were being upgraded, which meant new locks, which meant new keys. At that point, less than half the rooms in the building had new doors and not everyone had a key. He was checking the doors making sure someone didn't end up in a room they didn't have a key to. Of course, I hadn't known that. With a stiff body and wide eyes, I watched my past self on the screen, cowering, truly believing I was in danger.

The principal made the turn and, a moment later, I was dashing to Janet's room. I was gone. Now there was only the principal. After checking a door, he seemed satisfied like he was all finished. He leaned into the door and seemed to speak before stepping back. The horse whispering. It wasn't cursing, it was him telling the people inside it was only him and not to be afraid. I saw the caution wet floor sign was three feet away. I noticed it because something in my gut knew what was going to happen next. The principal slipped. He did a brief little shuffle, almost comedically, before his legs

came out from under him. His head bounced off the floor. There was no audio, but I could hear the hollow thump. I could hear it then in my head because I had heard it in real time, that heavy thud, the one from when we shushed the boy from asking what the noise was. Jesus, that was his head, I said aloud. No one answered. The principal slowly stood, leaving a dark splatter behind on the floor. His legs were shaky legs. He looked left and right, seemingly confused. He held one hand to his head and began to walk back the way he came. He stumbled. His knees shook. By now, darkness was dripping on the floor. Then he slowly sank to the ground as if he was suddenly sleepy and needed a nap.

Then he just laid there. The man in the polo moved the computer mouse to slide the time bar to 22 minutes later. As it fast-forwarded, a dark mass appeared and grew in a perfect circle around the principal's head. The video resumed with the principal stirring. He stood and stepped back, seemingly horrified by the pool of darkness. He stepped around the puddle and walked. I squinted and saw he had dropped something. He rounded the corner, making his way to the closest room for help. Janet's room. He wavered on rubbery legs. At one point, he leaned against the wall as he walked a few steps sliding along with his shoulder before pushing off and trying to balance again. He finally made it to Janet's door and fell against it. We had screamed. He raised a fist and gave one strong

pound before trying the knob. He patted his pockets, looking around, slumped his head and tried the knob again. The thing he had dropped, his keys. I felt hot tears running down my cheeks as I watched him sink down to sit with his back against the door. His head drooped. And that was it. The man in the polo stopped the video but kept looking at the screen. I shook my head, feeling confused even though there was nothing to be confused about. I thought about where I had been at that point in the screen. I shook my head, feeling confused even though there was nothing to be confused about. I thought about where I had been at that point in the video. I had been sitting with my back against the bookcase, which means he and I had been sitting back to back just feet apart while

he slowly bled out. And I had sat in his blood, the blood that dripped down from his cracked head. The children sang softly as the darkness pooled and soaked into my pants. And it was me. I had kept him out. I didn't know. I felt cold and afraid. I stepped back away from the officers. I didn't mean to do that to him. The officer's face dropped. Well, no, ma'am. No, we aren't blaming you. We just felt you should know. Because I did it, right?

I was losing sense of reality. I couldn't feel my legs and felt like I was somehow floating and sinking at the same time. I'm going to jail. I should. Because I kept him out. Ma'am, I shoved a freaking bookcase against the door. The officer was shaking his head, reaching out to me. I passed out. I quit being a counselor. Actually, I just stopped showing up. It was Janet who was kind enough to speak to the school county administration. She managed to turn my unannounced permanent absence into an official resignation.

No one argued. No one asked me to sign or do anything. No one bothered me because they all knew. They all knew I let him die. Janet said they all feel sorry for us, her and I That they all sympathize with our situation But I know it's nonsense I ripped up every get well card and popped every we miss you balloon that got delivered They're all pretending Acting as if though I hadn't let Daniel Seymour Hutchins A married man with two children at home and 253 others at work slip away in an empty hallway alone. I don't call him by name. I prefer to remember him as the principal.

It creates some distance like we were only co-workers, strictly professional. Not at all like he was the shoulder I cried on when I broke up with my boyfriend or the man who went over the spending limit for on when I broke up with my boyfriend, or the man who went over the spending limit for me when we did the blind gift exchange for Christmas. To top it off, we were never really in any danger. The police were called by a witness who claimed to see a man with a gun wandering the streets, drunkenly harassing people. When the police arrived, the man was in fact very drunk and did have a gun.

A brief standoff between he and the police went on for half an hour before he gave up. Guess what? When the police examined the weapon, it turned out to be fake. It turned out to be a freaking paintball pistol. But that doesn't upset me nearly as much as the thought that still haunts me. I could have just looked. That's all I can think. There were two instances where I could have just looked and saved everything. The first time, I could have just poked my head around the corner and saw the principal walking my way.

Then I could have put my shoes back on, stepped out, and gave him a wave, and he would have approached me and passed right by that yellow caution wet floor sign. The other time I could have looked was when I gave the second all clear to Janet and the kids. I can deny it all I want, but I had known. I had known at that moment something wasn't right because I just then realized we hadn't heard any footsteps walking away from the door. So why the silence, I had thought briefly, if they were still there. At that moment, I thought about standing up, reaching across the bookshelf, and pushing the door window's curtain aside to peek out into the hallway.

If I had, I would have saw the blood trail leading to the door. Then I would have looked down to see the principal slumped over. I would have shoved the shelf aside, opened the door, and used that stupid green tin blanket to apply pressure and stop the bleeding. I would have done all of that, but I didn't. I didn't because protocol said stay away from the windows and doors, and plus, I was just plain scared. I ignored my gut and hid behind procedure. I was a coward.

When I lay awake at night, I always hear a thump. What follows are the sounds of the principal walking and stumbling through my apartment. I can hear his feet on the linoleum even though I have a carpet. I hear his shoulder brushing against the wall. Then I hear the heavy crash and knock on my closed bedroom door. I can almost see the knob jiggling. At that point, I always get up and frantically pull the bedroom door open. I do it every time, and every single night without fail, I collapse into tears when I was about nine years old. This place was pretty shady.

It looked nice, but it was far from it. I'm a female, and when I was younger, my mom was working about two to three jobs at a time to support me and my siblings. My oldest sister, Jenny, took care of us until she moved out of state and province when she was 15. When we moved in there was a family living on the corner, a son, mom and daughter. The son was about 7-8 years older than me and started becoming friends with my older sister. He would come over when she was babysitting and act friendly towards me, specifically me, practically ignoring my other siblings. So Bobby would come hang out with Jenny

and he always found a way to include me in whatever they were doing. Talking, play fighting, video games. He especially liked to play wrestle with me, which because of my older sister, I didn't really know that I should have been uncomfortable, even when he would attempt to make me sit on his head. When Jenny stopped spending time at home, he started asking me to hang out. One of the times, he wanted to go for a walk, so we walked. There was a big church behind the townhouse complex that we walked to. He walked into a bush, poked his head out and asked me to join him. He sat me down and began the most uncomfortable conversation I've had with an older kid. He said something along the lines of, I like being friends with you, but I was thinking we could be more. Have you ever had a boyfriend before? I shook my head and looked confused.

But are you 16 or something? Shouldn't you date someone your own age? He laughed like it was a joke and asked again. So, do you want to date me? I rejected him and told him I needed to go home, that my other siblings would be worried. I ran home and told my middle sister, Serena, about what had happened. We lived there for about five years and even though he stopped bugging me, especially when I started getting sassy and giving him smart responses, he started getting creepier. He would record and take pictures of the girls around the neighborhood,

mostly between the ages of four to twelve years old. Most of them thinking it was some stupid joke would even pose and dance in front of his window for these. When we all played by the church he would hide by the townhouses and watch until he was chased off by one of the parents or myself. I became the guardian kid around the neighborhood and the most trusted to take care of the others. I would talk to some of the parents about it and they would tell me about how they would chase him off and loathe him for his disgusting habits. I never confronted his mom. She had her hands full with his sister and his mom was really hateful to kids of the neighborhood. Mostly because most of the kids would torment her

daughters so I believed it was best to keep to myself. I eventually told my mom who whenever she saw him would give him a look that could kill, dagger stare. I'll never know what became of him, but I hope he got some karma for his depraved thoughts and behavior, and I hope I never run into this guy ever again. My name is Max, and I know this might sound like I'm just looking for some attention from people, but I just want to get this out because I'm still creeped out by this and what had happened to me and my ex-boyfriend, who is now still my best friend to this day. I'm 23 now, but at the time it happened I was 20. I was heading to town with my then boyfriend of 6 years

who I will change his name for privacy reasons and him and I were still great friends for this. Anyway that night Jack and I were in my truck heading to Olive Garden at around 6 to 6.30 that night for dinner and then headed over to his house afterwards. Halfway through our meal I noticed that there was some guy probably around late 30s or early 40s looking at us but I brushed it off thinking he had left to go home but I was dead wrong. As I began to pull out and leave I saw headlights pull up behind me though it could have been one of the countless other restaurant goers who frequent Olive Garden. That was until I noticed that it was the guy from earlier. Well as I pulled out so did he. Yet I was hoping he would leave the other way and it would be over with, right? Well, not exactly

because the moment I started heading towards Jack's house, the guy followed right behind, so I took the long way to his house because there are two ways there. One is a shortcut I would usually take and the other is the longest way, so again I took the longest way hoping to lose him on a road by the name of Nels and then down by the lake to which I believe I lost him so I drove okay. Up the road a ways to where it becomes a T shape I noticed the guy from before had showed his dirty face once again and so I drove to the right past where I was supposed to pull into so I could try and lose him again. And by this time I was scared and Jack said, why is this guy so persistent on following us? And tried to stick his head out the window to yell at the guy but I stopped him. Jack, he could have a gun or even someone else with him who has a gun. You could easily get shot. Pull your head

back in this truck. I yelled angrily to the point he pulled his head back in guiltily. I was finally able to lose the guy and drive Jack and I to the house and stayed there the whole night. Every other minute I'd look out the front window just waiting to see the guy waiting in the dark, no headlights on when I noticed a car similar to the guy's car pull up and stop. He had no lights on and ran across the street in front of one of my guy friends house. Don't know if it's the guy from earlier or if it's another guy but I'm glad I didn't wait to find out what the guy wanted to do to us and I know I should have done something like call the cops but I couldn't because my phone had died before getting to the restaurant and I know I'm foolish but at the time I forgot my charger. So yeah, yell at me cause, we never saw that guy again. About four years ago, my family as a whole went through a few big changes. My parents had been empty nesters for about three years, as my siblings and I all lived in different states. After facing a huge letdown

when they went to purchase their dream home, my parents unexpectedly had to move to a temporary rental home, not far from where we grew up. My brother-in-law had decided after six years he was going to leave the army in Texas and move back to our hometown in small town Pennsylvania, my sister and five kids in tow. They had nowhere to go and my parents reluctantly let them stay with them. My twin brother also chose that same time to leave the navy and I had been living with him as a nanny to my three year old niece, Abby. I too begged to move back in with my parents,

transferred my part-time job and took Abby with me. So there were five adults and six little kids all living in a small three-bedroom, one-bathroom home. My brother still had several months to tie things over in Virginia, so he stayed behind. The new home was, I thought, quaint and had a lot of character. My mother, who had just found out she has cancer and still mourning the loss of her dream home, hated it. It was built in the 1800s and in fashion had all those great touches.

High ceilings, closed-in rooms, and hardly any sunlight came through. It was also one story with a small attic filled with old things the landlord had chosen not to take, like an old crib and toys, and then there was the basement. Full length of the house, unfinished, it was split into three rooms. One of the rooms had remnants of the days coal was stored to heat the house with, but was open into the main basement. The other room, well I hate to have that made up horror cliche, but this is very true, was locked and only opened with one of those skeleton keys. My father opened the door just to peek inside. All that was in this room was one of those basement windows looking out to the side street of the house and one lone chair.

Creepy, right? He decided that this is where my sister could temporarily store her belongings. Now, I moved in about two months after my sister and her family moved in. I was left to claim a small enclosed side porch, which was blazing hot at all hours of the day and night, no matter the weather. The kids splitting their sleeping arrangements between the smallest bedroom and living room, which was connected to my bedroom. It provided little privacy as the door was a glass door. I would have to creep over the kids early in the mornings to get to the bathroom to get ready for work. One particular morning I went to open my door,

when I saw what looked like Abby bending down over her cousins. She was the only one with blonde hair after all. It was 3am and as I opened my door to yell at her to go back to bed, the figure turned and ran down the hall towards my sister's room at the other end of the house. I forgot to mention that particular room is above the locked basement room. As I stepped over the kids to go find Abby, I looked down and saw her sleeping soundly with the rest of the pack. Freaky. I let it go as a weird coincidence and yet told my parents I thought the house was haunted. My father doesn't believe in ghosts, but my mother was very apprehensive. The house was an overall

heavy place to live in. Lack of light made it seem like a dungeon. There were small strange occurrences noted by everyone but we brushed it off as it was quite crowded and random noises could be made by just any child that was there. Now one of my nephews has high functioning autism. He always seems to know things others don't. My family had noticed in almost every picture of him he has orbs floating around him. I like to think that he has a good spiritual connection to that world. The kitchen has the door that leads to the basement right next to the main entrance. It also happened to be my nephew's favorite spot to hang around.

He was always there talking to someone, or something. He never mentioned who. Until one particular day we were all coming back from the store and was waiting for the door to be unlocked, when my nephew leaned into the window looking down into that basement room and waved. My mother asked who he was waving to. He said, my friend, the green man. I'm assuming this is the same friend he is often caught speaking to in the kitchen. He went into great description of the green man who also wore a long black coat and tall hat and lived in the basement. My sister was so freaked out she took up an offer from our grandfather that day to move her family to a home three hours away next door to him. My mother also chose to move

about a month later and purchased our current home next door to my sister. That left me with my father who couldn't leave because of a contracted job, my twin brother who finally got released from the navy, and Abby. Abby and I spent our days out and about as much as possible to get away from that heavy feeling in the house. I also moved my room to the one above the basement. Every night I felt like someone was sitting on my bed next to me. I seriously felt like I was going to roll right off the bed sometimes. My hair was being pulled and my stuff constantly messed with and went missing. I would randomly find things that belonged to my sister even though the room had been empty when I moved my stuff in. I suppose I could blame Abby as she was only three

in a handful but my brother had made amends with his ex and Abby was spending more time with her mother than me. The incident that tops it all off, the one that made me up and move, happened in the basement. We had our washing machine and dryer down there. So every time I went to do laundry, Abby would follow me down and ride her tricycle or we would roller skate on the smooth concrete floor while I washed my clothes. One day she was having a good time running around so I decided that I would sit on the bottom step and let her wear herself out. There was a hula hoop my sister

left sitting in a corner across from that creepy room. Abby pointed to it and asked if she could go over and get it. It was odd that she had asked permission but of course I said sure. She cautiously approached it as though it was going to jump at her any second. When she reached it she stared at the door to the creepy room, and stared, and stared. Then, as though she had been shocked, she turned around and ran to me and said, We need to go upstairs right now. The door to the creepy room slammed shut, and we both bolted upstairs. I made my father get my laundry when we came home from work. He just laughed at me and said it was probably the wind, even though it's a closed off fire hazard. Needless to say, I moved

in with my sister that weekend. My brother told me later that Abby refused to go near the basement after that. A month after I moved, my sister, brother, and niece moved as well, though no other incidents were reported. I would love to know the history of the house. That room obviously had some bad juju hanging around it. This happened in my sophomore year of high school. I'm now a sophomore in college and am way more guarded when it comes to teachers or strangers in general. As a little backstory, I'll say this.

Growing up, I was very shy and awkward when it came to social situations. I was also very innocent. I would barely speak to anyone normally and prayed that I wouldn't get called on in class in fear of stuttering or getting the wrong answer and then being laughed at for it. It was the first day of sophomore year. My classes were normal, math, science, English, etc. All of my teachers that I had looked familiar from my freshman year. There was only one new teacher that I hadn't seen before and that was my American history teacher. I'll call him Mr. N. I remember my best friend Danny and I walking into American history class. We had seen Mr. N writing some stuff on the whiteboard so we went and took the last two seats in the very back so we could stay

out of view for the most part. I didn't like the attention and neither did Danny. After we sat down and got our supplies out, Danny leaned over and whispered to me, The new teacher looks like a serial killer or something. I let out a small laugh because he wasn't wrong, but it wasn't nice that he said that so I slapped Danny's arms and told him to hush. The teacher had turned around, introduced himself to the class. Mr. N was tall, but his form was very boxy. His hair was thin and stringy and his head was shaped like a literal square. He also had a thin black line over his lips. At my immature age, I thought he had taken a sharpie to his upper lip to make a small mustache.

He wasn't the best looking guy, but I didn't care about that. I just hoped his teaching was good. Sadly, it was not. He was all over the place. He would be telling us about World War I one day, and then go on and start talking about World War III, and then go to World War II. It was a literal mess. What really put me on edge about the guy was his creepy smile.

He had a gap in his tooth, when he would smile he would widen his eyes to the point where it looked like it hurt. When he would talk to a student he would open his eyes wide not blink while talking to the student. He would also stare at students while we all wrote in a journal. Three months into the year I tried my best to avoid him. He never called on me and never looked my way or or so I thought, until one day when Danny told me that Mr. N kept staring in our direction. I acted like he was lying, but I knew he was telling the truth. I could feel the stare. Like I said, I hated the attention, and I felt like I was being picked out from everyone by this guy's stare. I looked up and

had seen Mr. N shoot his gaze away from me. What the heck, I thought out loud. The small chitter-chatter of the room was interrupted by Mr. N standing up and passing out a sheet with missing work on it to the students. I still felt his gaze when he was handing out papers, but every time I looked up he would be looking at the papers instead. Paranoia, I guess. I stared down at my desk when he came near Danny and I. I just felt uncomfortable. I waited for my papers to be placed in front of me but it never showed up. So I looked up and Mr. N was just staring down at me, my paper in his hand. You need to stay after class and discuss this with me. He said in a slightly higher voice.

After he said that, he gave me that creepy smile and then handed me my paper, walking away. I remember looking at my paper and seeing how many missing assignments were there. I almost choked on air. There was no way that I had this many missing because I remember turning all of these in with Danny. I placed my head on my desk, feeling annoyed and panicked. Danny looked at my paper and went to pat my back. You'll be fine. Just make sure to tell him that you turned these in. I'm sure you just misplaced them.

The lunch bell rang, making all of the students rush out of the classroom. Well, everyone but me. I told Danny to save me a spot, and I walked over to where Mr. N's desk was. I coughed a little to get his attention and when I did, he shot his head up and smiled even bigger, if possible. I tried to tell him that I turned all of these in and that I can't have this knock my grade down. He just smiled and nodded his head. His response was what got me. Oh, don't worry. I got them all here. I just wanted you had to come and see me. I remember a chill went down my spine. I wanted to just walk out,

but I felt bad about wanting to do that. I thought that he was just being nice. Like I said, I was innocent. Oh, well, can you take these off as missing assignments if you have them? He just laughed and got up. I got scared and felt so uncomfortable. I will, don't worry. I was actually hoping you could help me with something. His voice was low and squeaky. He walked to the classroom door and closed it. I was crapping bricks. I didn't know what he was doing, but I tried to convince myself that it was nothing. What do you need help with, sir? I remember asking, my voice coming out shaky from fear. You help me sort these papers. I could use a lot of help. He got closer to where I was, a desk separating us.

I didn't want to be rude, so I just nodded. Oh good, here. He then came around the desk, went behind me, and put his hands on my shoulders, pushing me towards his desk. He then made me sit down in his desk chair, motioning to a stack of papers. I slowly picked up the papers and asked if I could go to another desk. He refused and said that I'm just fine where I am, and then sent me a wink. I shuddered, my heart beating really fast and wanting nothing more to run out. I started to sort the papers and felt him stare at me.

I looked up to see him towering over me. I jumped in the seat, scooting back farther into the corner of the little space his desk was in. You are a quiet little thing, aren't you? I like that. It's cute. Innocent.

I felt like throwing up when he said that. He took a seat on his desk, then he started to move forward, so he was face to face with me almost. I couldn't go back anymore in the chair and I knew I was trapped. He kept leaning into me and I swear he was about to close his eyes and pucker his lips. I just panicked so I jumped up, hit my knee on the desk and whimpering since my knee wasn't in the best shape from falling down some stairs a week earlier. Mr. N jumped off from the desk and whimpering since my knee wasn't in the best shape from falling down some stairs a week earlier. Mr. N jumped off from his desk and I just ran around him and out of the room and went

to go find Danny. When I found him I told him everything. I had to hold back from lashing out at the guy. Once I calmed down and Danny calmed down we went up to the admins office and turned him in. After telling the admins they had me sit out and wait to be called again. I sat with Danny and just rested my head on his shoulder. I've never been so scared in my life. Later that day I found out from another student that he had done

this to other girls as well but he only asked them to stay after and all he did was ask personal questions so they didn't feel the need to turn him in for being too invasive. The next day I dreaded going to history class. Danny was angered and annoyed as well. It showed when he put his arm around my shoulder and shot daggers at Mr. N. When we walked in, however, as class went on, Mr. N acted like nothing had happened. In fact, he was avoiding me like the plague, which I was fine with. The next week, Mr. N didn't show up. Instead, one of the admins had told the class that Mr. N wouldn't be teaching anymore and that they were in the process of getting a full-time sub to fill in.

Apparently, another girl went and reported him for doing something similar. I just have to say that I'm grateful for my best friend who is now my fiancé because after this whole thing, Danny started teaching me how to defend myself and to be stronger and more aware. He also made sure to scare away Mr. N when he approached us at some restaurant a couple years ago. To start, I have very bad eyesight. I am practically blind without my glasses and do not wear contacts. I tend to lose my glasses a lot by lying them around and forgetting where I put them,

so I lay them next to my sink at night to retrieve them in the morning when I brush my teeth. This experience happened when I was 13. I woke up around 2am to use the bathroom. My eyes were still adjusting so when I looked around and noticed everything being so clear I figured it was my mind playing tricks on me. After I relieved myself I got up to wash my hands. Walking to my sink I turned on the light and looked around. My eyesight was perfect. I was so confused at that moment I shut my eyes. I was so so confused and honestly didn't want to even open my eyes. When I did however it was the same as before. I walked to my sink as I put my glasses on and took them right off.

When I did it was back to being blurry. I put them back on and walked back to my bed dumbfounded. Once I sat down I don't remember anything after that. I woke up the next morning thinking that it was a dream when I went to my bathroom. I clearly remember putting my glasses next to my sink the night before but they were nowhere to be found. I looked on the floor with no luck and decided to walk to my bed. I found them in between my bed sheets and put them on. I later told my mother who was a believer of all sorts of weird stuff. She believed me but had no way of explaining it. I'm now 15 and have no way of explaining what happened that night.

I know it was not a dream. it felt too real. Has this ever happened to anyone else? I was out for drinks with some colleagues when my mom came to get me as I can't drive. The drive home begins as usual when we turn onto a road with two cars behaving oddly. One blue which seemed to be driving normally albeit slowly and a silver car which kept swerving dangerously close to the other car. As you do we just suspected them to be friends messing around when the blue car sped up clearly attempting to get rid of the silver. When the silver matches the speed, the blue drops right back again, only for the silver to match him. Obviously, mom was getting

frustrated sitting behind the silver as she has an early start at 6.30am tomorrow, so wants to get home, and honks her horn hoping to get him to move. He moves over in front of the blue and we continue driving, only for the silver car to pull back in front of us 30 seconds later. They continue in front of us, suddenly changing speeds, etc. around the large roundabout near my home, only indicating which direction after my mom had indicated. We drive along the final stretch of road before our estate and my mom waits until the very last second to indicate and Silver still pulls in front of us. At this point we're both kind of freaking out as they once again suddenly turn as soon as we indicate onto the road where our house is. Mom stops on the road, locks the

door and I call the police. When they realize we stopped they do, as I speak to the dispatcher. Finally, Silver moves again, and we breathe in relief only for them to turn around and drive right towards us, while taking pictures of us, only swerving at the last second to stop next to us. My mom tells them we're calling the police and to go home. They seem to drive off, only to go further down the road and turn back around to come back towards us. The dispatcher tells us to drive to the police station and thankfully we lost them on the way. The blue car did not seem to be involved and only another victim of the harassment. So I hope he got home safe. This happened years ago but still affects me to this day. The summer after I graduated high school I was still living at home.

I was up late one night and was packing for a camping trip with my friends. I was unbelievably hot and had the windows open as I sat and folded clothes. It was around 2 in the morning and the next thing I knew, there was a hand coming through the gap in the screen of my window. I screamed and the hand flew back. I was stunned but there was a part of me that wondered if it was my younger brother pranking me. I got up and looked out the window and just saw the figure of a man staring back at me. I ran into my brother's room and he was there playing video games. We called the police who came and searched the area.

They found nothing, warned me and my parents to lock the windows and doors and left. We were all still shaken up and my mom had a feeling that he would come back. It turns out her mother's intuition was right. She went outside and waited on her back porch. After 20 minutes or so she saw a man dressed in black slink into our backyard along the tree line. There wasn't a fence on that side unfortunately. He hid behind a tree for a few seconds and ran to another tree and hid there, slowly working his way towards my house. My mother yelled something to him and he took off running. The police came back out and again found no trace of him. I never opened that

window again, not even the curtains. My parents installed some motion detecting lights and that seemed to be the end of that. About six months later my friend and I got an apartment downtown together. We were really excited as this was our first place on our own. The apartment wasn't exactly the best quality but it was so fun to be living in the city. The downside was that it was street parking only. After a few weeks my car was broken into. Nothing was taken but a single rose sat on the passenger seat. It was creepy but I vowed to be vigilant and safe.

I always tried to park close to the entrance near the lights but often it was difficult to get those spots and I would often have to park farther away on darker streets. Things quickly began escalating at this point. My car was broken into at least once a week. Most of the time, a flower was left, which I always threw on the ground. But once a pair of men's underwear was left, and even more creepily, once a bag of Tootsie Rolls, as they were my favorite candy. This made me wonder if the person knew me personally, and I started to become suspicious of everyone. There was a laundry in the basement of the apartment and one day I went down to get a load that finished drying. As I started folding I realized all of my undergarments, bras and underwear were gone. Another week I had a male friend over from school and his tires got

slashed during the visit. By the time the first letter arrived I had already started making plans to move elsewhere. The letter described a love for me that had been going on for years. He noted things that proved he had been watching me closely. I arranged for another friend to take over my lease and I moved in with another friend on the other side of the city. It was a secured building and had an underground parking garage that was only accessible to tenants. I felt much more secure and the extra money spent was well worth the peace of mind. Things were quiet for a few months and then my roommate got a boyfriend. Most of us were wary of Ashley's new boyfriend from the beginning.

For one, they met on MySpace after he reached out to her. Another reason was that new boyfriend Matt was extremely good looking and while Ashley was a wonderful person she wasn't the type you would typically expect someone like him to date. Ashley was thrilled. She had never had a boyfriend and really felt like he was her prince charming. I thought he was weird and creepy from the beginning. Matt was on the quiet side and always seemed to be sporting an uncomfortable leering smile. It was difficult to carry on any sort of conversation with him because he would always make it weird with some random facts that were completely unrelated to what we were talking about. I had deleted my MySpace when the initial stalking began, but I created a dummy account to learn more about Matt. It didn't look like he really knew any of his friends in real life.

They were only pictures of himself and the rest of the information was vague. My friends and I gently tried to discourage her from seeing Matt. He technically hadn't done anything wrong but he was just so strange. She would immediately get defensive and would shut the conversation down. Matt started to spend more time at the apartment and I found myself finding any excuse I could to avoid coming home. One day I came home from work and found Matt on my couch, alone, drinking a beer. Ashley had been called into work and told him he could just hang out. I was furious because I didn't want to spend any time with him so I grabbed a beer and a snack and headed off to my room and shut the door. About 30 minutes or so, he knocked on my door and suggested we watch some TV and get to know each other better because we both loved Ashley.

I didn't want to but decided that maybe I needed to give it a try. He put on a movie and I just tried to focus on the movie because I didn't want to talk. At one point, I glanced over to Matt and he was staring at me with a smile on his face. I snapped a what at him and he was staring at me with a smile on his face. I snapped a what at him and he just continued smiling and said, I just can't believe it. Believe what I asked. He said nothing and went back to watching the movie, still smiling.

I had no idea what he was talking about but the interaction had every hair standing up on my body. I excused myself and locked the door to my room. Another month or so went on and I had managed to avoid being home for much of anything beyond sleep and showering. Matt practically lived there and had even brought a bunch of his things into Ashley's room. I really didn't want to move again but it was okay to look for other options. On their six month anniversary I saw a huge bouquet of flowers on the table and an already opened card propped up next to it. I rolled my eyes and was about to leave when I decided to see what that weirdo wrote to her. When I opened the card my heart started beating through my chest. Without even reading the words he wrote I was shaken. The writing was

exactly the same as my stalker had sent. I had kept them as evidence and dug them out of my desk for comparison. The handwriting was unique and identical. Matt was the stalker. I called the police first. As they were on the way, I called Ashley and asked her to come over. She was at work but said she would be there when she could. I was terrified to tell her because I knew she would be shattered. The police took a statement from me and actually went to Ashley's work to get more information from her and they ended up breaking the news. Apparently Ashley called Matt and left a furious message even though the cops told her not to say anything and he completely disappeared after that. There was no

mat or anyone matching his resemblance at the place he said he worked. Ashley had never been to his apartment because he said that he was staying with friends while trying to save money for a trip to Europe. His family lived out of state and she had never met a friend of his because he said that they had a falling out because he was choosing to spend so much time with Ashley. It was all lies and in the end she was dating a stranger. We don't even know if Matt was his real name. The cherry on the top of this whole thing was when we went through Matt's things. He had left everything when he disappeared and Ashley and I decided to go through everything. There was a duffel bag that was full of gym clothes, but in one of the compartments there was about ten pictures of me.

All were taken from far away with the exception of one of me sleeping. The sheets were current so I know it had to have been at the current apartment before I started locking my bedroom door. A few pictures dated back to before the incident at my parents' house which made us think that was him as well. Two pairs of missing underwear was there, and I shuddered to think of what he did with the rest. A Starbucks lid with my red lipstick marks, a necklace I hadn't even noticed missing, a few random sick souvenirs. The police never tracked him down. I decided to accept an opportunity overseas that I had been considering and got out of there.

Unfortunately, Ashley and I quickly drifted apart. She had a really hard time accepting that her first love was a complete psycho. I think I had some underlying anger, maybe misplaced, for believing all of his lies and letting him into our lives. I don't know what his endgame was. Would he have tried to hurt me? Or was he simply content with being in my world? I'll never know. Being stalked changes you. Even when I lived across the world, I looked over my shoulder everywhere I went. I still have no social media accounts attached to my real name. I am married with children and know that he moved on to torment

some other poor woman. But every time I visit my home, I am tense with children and know that he moved on to torment some other poor woman, but every time I visit my home, I am tense and keep a low profile. Part of me will always worry that Matt will resurface again. I worked as a flight attendant for years and when I decided to take an extended sabbatical from college, there were a handful of let's not meet situations I encountered. But one in particular still makes my skin crawl more than any. I was born and raised in Texas but had to move to New York when I was 21. So when I found out at the beginning of a week-long trip that I'd have a couple of overnights in Austin, I was super excited to go to my home state for a

few days. My brother lived just north of the city and we planned to hang out and go to dinner the night I arrived when he got off of work. And the following day we were going to meet up with our dad who lived about an hour away. So I get to the hotel downtown, the crew and I check in and then we each head off to our rooms. Short elevator ride and I get to mine where not even five minutes later there's a loud hard knock on the door. It was only around 1 or 2 p.m. and I hadn't called either my dad or brother to let them know I was in town yet, so they wouldn't know what room. I assumed it was maybe one of my crewmates, so I headed to the door. Before even making it to the door, however, a loud male voice on the other side boomed. The front desk sent me about the bathroom problem you called in.

Before trying to open the door... Unlock the door and open, miss. I need in now. I had frozen my tracks. I hadn't even been in the bathroom yet let alone called anything to the front desk I'm a petite chick and while I take nothing from anyone despite my size I still err on the side of caution slowly inching toward the door to look out the peephole all I could tell was that the man on the other side was at least six foot tall and easily double my weight. No way was I going to unlock the door. I responded to the guy, telling him he must have had the wrong room. He continued pounding on the door while constantly turning the handle,

telling me no, he needed in and was getting in the room one way or another. I panicked, but thankfully had the sense to grab the phone and call the front desk. The concierge confirmed that they had neither sent anyone up to my room nor had they received a call about the bathroom. The entire time this guy was still determined to get in my room pounding and yelling. Luckily for me the front desk had dispatched security to my floor. When the security officers step off the elevator a few seconds later, I can hear them in the hall approach and ask the guy who he was, what he was doing, and telling him he needed to leave the hotel. He immediately gets hostile and

aggressive towards them, and the front desk clerk I'm still on the phone with tells me police have been called and are on their way. In the meantime I'm trapped in my room, scared out of my mind. Long story short, the cops show up pretty quickly and manage to arrest the guy for trespassing and criminal menacing or something. I later found out that the guy was also wanted in connection to a string of break-ins and violent acts against people in Austin. He had seen and stalked me from the minute I entered the hotel lobby. Apparently I was exactly his type of victim. Nothing else happened after that but it still rattled the crap out of me for the rest of my stay in that hotel. About two years ago, I worked at a movie store inside a mall.

I've had tons of strange experiences with customers, but this one definitely tops them off. I was 20 at the time. This guy was over 6 foot, late 40s, very hefty, and always had this weird zombified expression on his face. He came in about once a week. One of my co-workers had even warned me about him, how he was a little off, but I still treated him with as much respect as I did everyone else. One day he came in and we talked for a bit, but it got a little awkward and I kept trying to end the conversation and look busy by tagging items behind the counter. He stood there in silence watching me for about 20 minutes and finally left. A few days later he comes back in and walks up to me holding a large container. He says,

I made four pounds of enchiladas at home today just for you. I remember you like Mexican food. I don't remember at all telling him that I liked it, but I do know that I went to the Mexican restaurant across the way every lunch break. I just politely accepted it and put it in the back office. I wasn't quite convinced he didn't use some foreign substance for it. Another few days later he came back in and had a drawing for me of a dragon. Now I love dragons but I never told him that. This drawing looked like it took hours to make and at this point I was a little freaked out. I had him leave it on the counter so I could just throw it away later. Later on I was given about a week vacation. During that week I cut my hair about 12 inches. The day I came back I got a shift with my manager. I told her all about the guy and immediately she was weirded out for me. Of course

a few minutes later I see the dude walking around in the mall. He was going towards the exit and didn't look at me once. My manager tells me to go to the back office. I go and wait until she comes to get me and when she does, she tells me I need to make a report to mall security immediately. Apparently when I ran back there, he turned around to come in and walked all throughout the store. When she asked him if he needed help with something, he said, I can't believe she's cut her hair and briskly walked out. I go to the mall security to make a report and we went through all these videos from the cameras of when the guy came to visit me. But there was one video that really stood out.

It still sends chills throughout my body just thinking about it. The video shows him pulling into the parking lot of the mall and about three minutes later I arrive. This was really early in the morning and no customers were here yet but there were cars in the lot. I didn't notice him at all. It shows me walking towards the entrance and him following. Right as I open the entrance door the man starts sprinting towards me. I walked inside just in time. It shows him stop and just stand in front of the door watching me through the glass walk a little further away. He begins walking normally inside the mall. I never noticed him behind me, and that part really messed me up.

It was like watching the last footage before a kidnapping happens on Dateline or something. The video gave the security reason to ban him from the mall and thankfully they did. They later told me when they gave him a background check, he had four counts of promiscuous images of underagers on his person and was on probation. Years ago I started dating a guy. I just came out of a bad relationship and got attached to him way too quickly but everything seemed to be going well. That's until he started to take up all my free time. He would wait for me after school, spend the evening with me and often asked to sleep at my place. Sometimes he would even text me late at night that he was outside and wanted me to let him in. I often did, me the kid madly in love. Skip three months later, we've been dating for

half a year now, I'm 15, he's 17, and he asked me to marry him. I'm shocked but a 15 year old me says yes. I regretted that decision pretty fast. First, it meant nothing really. We were way too young and second, he took even more of my time. Skip two months to summer vacation, he's been basically living at my place for a week straight now. I realized how tired of him I was. I wouldn't even talk to my friends anymore, just him. So we talked. I didn't want to break up, scared to hurt him. He said he would be better, surprise surprise, he wasn't. During the next four months it was on and off. I would dump him but take him back shortly after. Why you might ask? Well he kept telling me he was going to hurt himself if I left. I felt trapped. Finally after I found out he sent me a self-harm picture from Google Images

and claimed it as his own, I ended it for good, or so I thought. He started texting me endlessly, so I blocked him. I also blocked his friends too when they started to try and make me feel bad. I had about a month of peace. I started seeing him in the bus to my school very often. I assumed it was a coincidence. After all, our schools were pretty close to each other, but it was just the beginning. I started seeing him more and more, walking behind me or sitting at the table next to me. He never talked, he just watched. One day, I got tired and confronted him. He denied, of course, but I got peace for a couple of days and that's when the worst happened. At the time I lived in an apartment building on the third floor but just

under my window were the emergency stairs. From there you could see into my room if I didn't have curtains. I often use it to leave my house during the night and my ex knew about it. He used to come to my place late at night so my parents wouldn't know. Around 2am I woke up and I thought I heard something. I got up and looked around. I figured it must have been my imagination but then I heard a metallic noise. I rushed to the window and that's when I saw him. My ex running down the metal stairs. I was panicked and I woke up my parents. My dad got really angry and called my ex's house. He explained the situation to his mom and hung up. I still cross paths with my ex since we live in the same part of town, but he avoids me now. I've had peace ever since. This story happened last year during my vacation at Malolo City, Philippines.

Yes, I am Filipino, and there are a lot of drunken, creepy encounters here too. It's always dangerous for young girls to be walking alone at night, and you can see that in the news that often report all sorts of terrible things, almost daily. I didn't know that I myself would have a similar scary experience as many of the girls have had, simply because I myself am a 20-year-old male. It happened one night, right around 1am. I was suffering depression at the time and thought of having a walk outside. The girl that I was trying to win over just rejected me hard and I felt bummed out about it so I went out to listen to some sad tunes. While walking the outskirts of a town called San Isabel I saw this big blackish SUV loudly driving behind me while blasting its own tunes. I was paying no mind to it at first but

then the SUV suddenly slowed down behind me and went silent. As I walked I can see the SUV tailing behind me. Then it started to blink its headlights as if it's trying to catch my attention. I stopped and looked behind me again and saw these two guys inside. I remember them as being at most in their early 40s. They were creepily grinning and waving their hands at me while laughing. I thought these guys were just messing around so I just ignored them and went my way. Unfortunately they didn't stop. They continued following me and blinking their headlights at me but now their evil laughter was mixed with whistles and catcalling. They yelled words like love and babe at me. The thing is, harassment is common here in the Philippines, just like any other country in the world. But a male being harassed is almost unheard of here, unless you are in a prison, of course.

There are some cases of it happening, but the public mostly dismisses it. Filipino society is biased towards girls when it comes to these types of crimes. If you're a guy and you got yourself into this, as a macho, guapo Filipino, all you can do is to nut up and stop acting like a little baby. So at the time, I thought they may have mistaken me for a girl. I did have a slender and petite frame, and I was wearing a pinkish hoodie jacket and very tight jeans. So what I did was I took off my hood and glared at them to show them my face and that I was a guy. That again didn't stop them. In fact they started to make ow and nice sounds at me.

The driver was the scariest of the two looking at me directly in the eyes and smiling, doing those pebebe or cute guy next door faces but way creepier and scary. Undeterred, I stood my ground without even thinking and rolled up my hoodie shirt. I showed them my tummy and my chest just to prove I was not a girl. I yelled at them, idiots I'm not a girl. That was a big mistake. This only aroused them even more. They started cheering and licking their teeth at me like I was some stripper. Embarrassed and very angry I yelled at them again for their stupidity and raised my fists at them asking for a fight. Like I said I was suffering from being depressed at the time so my cognitive functions weren't working that well and these guys were just making my lonely night even worse. Another big mistake. I should have known from the start that those creeps didn't

care if I was a boy or a girl. The driver eyed me for half a minute before opening the door and getting out of his car. That was where I saw for the first time, illuminated by his car headlights, his bright red eyes and woozy and unbalanced stance. It was evident that he was out of his mind. He stood next to his car, pulled away the bottom of his t-shirt. There I saw that the guy had a pistol tucked in his pants. He smiled as he watched my reaction. My feelings of bravery was drained from me. There were some awful things that happened in the Philippines at that time with the war on drugs and all, so there were many cases of people being gunned down in the street. I was speechless when he showed it to me. The other guy inside was giggling with excitement and staring at me.

Even with fear crawling over me, I took several deep breaths and opened my mouth again, asking, buddy, what do you want from me? If they were just looking to get my cash I would gladly give it to them. If they were looking to hurt me for amusement, my god please no. The driver with his eyes still on me said in a low soothing voice, you, you're the one I want. You're the one I've been looking for handsome. I was scared near to death as they talked to me. I couldn't believe that I'm really deep in this situation. Even with fear seizing my whole body, I managed to give a little chuckle at how corny their replies were. They too started to laugh.

I just shook my head and without second thought, bolted off as fast as I can. I took to the darker and narrower streets, places I'm sure that they couldn't chase me with their car. As they ran, I didn't know if they went on pursuit, but I can still hear them laughing and laughing in the night. I arrived home and went straight to my bed. I just laid there scared, vigilant, and listening to any sounds of SUVs outside. It took me till morning before I was finally at ease to fall asleep. It was unfortunate I didn't memorize their plate numbers. While that memory is still in my head the feeling of fear now is gone and replaced with curiosity and disbelief.

I tried to ask opinions from my friends about my experience but even they didn't know what to think of it. The only thing they could do was to comfort me from my misfortune. However here in this community it felt great to be able to share it with people who have also suffered these experiences. Around first grade I became friends with this kid named Stan. He was a couple years older than I was but he had a sister that was my age who I was also friends with. I also had a wicked crush on their oldest brother James. That was that girl who chased the poor, uninterested boys all around the playground. I lost contact with all three around middle school. Of course, when Facebook happened, I began getting in touch with people I'd gone to school with.

It was a moderately sized K-8 school, so you were basically with the exact same group of kids through each grade. This makes for some pretty strong bonds, I believe, because there's a lot of us who kept in contact after moving on to high school for a little while before drifting apart. Because of this I was always really excited when I got back in touch with those people. However not all of those connections have been positive. I got a friend request from Stan one day under a different name. The messages were the typical how's it going what have you been up to? Then he started sending messages that were about my looks. They weren't obscene, but they did make me a bit uncomfortable. He started pushing me to meet up. I can't explain it, but I just had a really off

feeling about him, so I would kind of avoid making any kind of plans. He continued to be pushy about things, and finally I just stopped responding to his messages. I should also mention here that when I first accepted Stan's friend requests he literally went through every single one of my pictures and liked them. That should have been my first clue but I just let it go. Then I started getting messages from friends and even some family members asking me about him. Stan was going through and basically sending everyone friend requests. By this point I'm like, alright, this is weird. But things got really nuts when my cousin informed me that Stan not only tried to friend her, he'd also sent her a message asking all sorts of questions about me such as things I liked or places I like to go. My cousin was

concerned that he was sending those kind of messages to other people who might actually tell him what he wanted to know. I debated sending Stan a message telling him to back off, but decided to just block him and change all of my Facebook settings to make it as private as I possibly could. I also sent out a mass message to all of my friends and family informing them of the situation to kindly not give out any personal information. I had been friends with James but ended up blocking him as well just to prevent Stan from getting access to anything. Things were quiet for about a week. Then a friend request from random accounts started coming in. Some didn't have pictures, some had random images. They were accompanied by messages that made it clear that

they were all from Stan, full of skeezy comments on my looks and how I wanted to hook up. That's putting it mildly. Every day I had an account that needed to be blocked. I contacted Facebook about the situation, though they didn't really offer any kind of help. It finally came to a stop when I threatened Stan with police intervention. The peace lasted for about a year, then I got a friend request from a girl I'd also gone to school with named Kelsey. We talked pretty frequently both online and over the phone. She wanted us to hang out so we talked about that some but then she started bringing it up more frequently, persistently. I started to get that weird feeling again that something wasn't quite right.

Then came the bombshell. Kelsey and Stan were dating. We'd all been in the same classes so the fact that they knew each other wasn't strange but for them to be dating. I confronted Kelsey about it and blocked her but because we talked on the phone they had my phone number. Of course both began calling and texting crazy things non-stop. I finally had to get my number changed. It had been over 10 years since all of this and I haven't heard from Stan once. Kelsey did try to friend me recently with a different account and I looked through her Facebook showing that she's married to another man and no evidence of Stan.

I'm not taking any chances though, so she's been blocked permanently. This story occurred about 10 years ago. I was around 20 years old at the time. I had been working, I still work here at a little ma and pa health food store in Virginia for a few months. A truly lovely tight knit staff with an owner who was basically a mother to me. The other older ladies were my best friends and more aunt like than anything. Of course being the youngest lady working here I got lots of hours and ended up closing shop many nights.

Soon I was comfortable enough to be closing by myself. We had a regular customer that had been coming in for quite a few years before I started there. He was a local holistic doctor, a brilliant one at that. He was around 40 years of age, divorced, and well to do. He spent a ton of money at the shop, sometimes taking an entire car full of groceries home. Needless to say, the owner was pleased to have his business. The first time I met him, he said, well, hello there. I'm Dr. Malloy. I don't think we've ever met. He stuck out his hand and displayed a charming smile. I will admit he was quite handsome, very nice and funny. My coworker, Pam, stood a little to the side and she sort of gave me that look that said, hmm, be careful with this one.

Sort of a sixth sense that she had going on. She was and still is very protective of me. She said, oh yes, this is Diana. She just started here. He replied, well, nice to meet you, Diana. I'm sure it's nice to have some young blood started here. He replied, He took his sweet time and chit-chatted about what he did, how successful he was, and how he will be coming in more often to see my pretty face. He made sure my co-worker didn't hear that part. So, fast forward a few more months and this guy had been coming in almost nightly, specifically when he knew I'd be there alone. Basically right at closing, which would annoy

the crap out of me, but I was too nice and knew we needed the business. Then began the usual inappropriate questions. How old are you? Where do you live? You must have a boyfriend. You know, if you ever need anything, help with your health or if you need any guidance, I can be of service. I also have a home office. I always answer very vaguely, and I never told him where I lived. One Thanksgiving, he asked if I was a good cook, and if I would mind coming over and cooking a turkey for him. No. At this point, I informed my boyfriend Jackson, now husband, that this guy is creeping me out. I told him he would likely be in the store on Friday night and if he could please come in to keep me company while I began to close. My boyfriend comes in. Not a few minutes later

Dr. Malloy comes in and looks stunned when he sees my boyfriend. I look at my boyfriend and nod. Dr. Malloy says, hey buddy, in a condescending tone of course. His whole demeanor had changed and his eyes are dead holes and fixed on me like I had betrayed him. The boyfriend is leaning over the counter as Dr. Malloy is piling stuff on quickly and silently. I should mention my boyfriend is six foot seven, scruffy bearded mountain of a man and he's wearing his cycling clothes. Dr. Malloy checks out and says, see you soon. Ignores my boyfriend and leaves, winking at me. The boyfriend is noticeably angry and he watches Dr. Malloy go out into his car. The next day, Dr. Malloy confronts me about the boyfriend. Was that him, your boyfriend? He's a real bro, huh? Snarky and

pompous and I respond, yeah, he's actually really wonderful. Now Jackson starts staying with me to close whenever he can. Dr. Malloy starts waiting for me to go on break and follows me trying to eat with me at the cafe nearby. The ladies are getting very annoyed and I start hiding, you know, all that stuff. Well, I get a pretty bad rib injury on my bike and stay home. I live in a very secluded old apartment, a 15 minute walk away that sits above an old art gallery. That day my friend Wojtek was visiting from Germany. I was so excited to see my best friend. He brought me food and coffee and we were just chilling inside catching up when knock knock knock. Yoohoo. Anybody home? I recognized the voice. I opened it and it's Dr. Merloi holding a large suitcase. I heard you were injured. I

brought my acupuncture supplies and I'd like to gift you with a session. He tries to walk in. My friend is baffled and I say, um, well, no thanks. My friend is visiting and he's here taking care of me. He looks at my friend and his eyes were filled with rage. I came all this way here for you. This is what I get? Oh, you have two boyfriends. Disgusting. At this point, Vajtek steps between us, tells him to leave, and shuts the door. Dr. Malloy bangs on the door, cussing and flipping out on us. He leaves. I told the ladies and my boyfriend. My boyfriend is enraged and wants to go beat this guy up, but things calm down for a bit and Dr. Malloy goes away for a minute. But now his roommate starts scouting me out for him, asking me if I'd like to come over for dinner

to their place and have fun. That Dr. Malloy misses me. I'm angry and tell them to buzz off. This friend of his just wasn't right. Now D-Day. Dr. Malloy waits in front of the store as I leave for break. My boyfriend is on his way to take me out. Dr. Malloy stops me and says, I'm taking you. No, I'm going to eat with my boyfriend. Please leave me alone, man. Just stop. No, I'm taking you to Montana. Get in my car. Leave your boyfriend. I can take care of you for the rest of your life. I need a wife. I know you love me. Don't lie to me. He's saying all of this through his teeth, quietly and angrily. He's holding onto my wrist and trying to drag me away when Pam busts the door open, screaming and pulling his shoulders.

Dr. Malloy grabs my hair, basically ripping it out of my head. Then my other hero, Jackson Jackson runs over and tackles this idiot and puts him in a headlock. Everyone yelling and losing it. I'm silent and in shock. Police are called. He's arrested and in cuffs. The last thing he says, you're mine. Restraining order ensues. I didn't press charges. We were about to move anyhow and I knew I was protected at work. Last I heard, he did move to Montana. He closed his business and left. So, to the naturopath and psychopath who stalked me and possibly tried to kidnap me, I hope we never meet again. Although throughout the years,

my husband has collected a few shotguns he'd love to show you. When I was 14 I lived down the street from a Walgreens and would walk there to buy candy or makeup maybe once or twice per week after school. It was less than a 10 minute walk and I mostly felt safe, although at that age we all feel invincible. One day standing in line waiting to pay for my goods, I felt something tickle my back. I've always had long hair and figured it was a random loose strand, so I just ignored it. Then the random tickle turned into something solid and I felt a grip on my bra, like full on something is holding the backstrap hooks on my bra in their hand. I made a noise, rushed forward, nearly bumping into the person in front of me and turned around to see a dude standing behind me. I started to ask what was

going on but he cut me off and said, someone is supposed to teach you how to use those things. I was super confused so I naturally said, huh? Your bra? Don't you have someone to teach you how to use those things? I was super confused so I naturally said, huh? Your bra? Don't you have someone to teach you how to put those things on? I reached back and felt my bra was above the back of my shirt and apparently the hooks weren't fully aligned. It was a three hook bra and I guess I had only hooked two of them off center or something but I was still confused. Okay, I said, super creeped out at this point. Well, you're walking around like a dog in heat. At least fix your bra or let me do it for you.

Okie doke. I faced forward and ignored him, paid for my candy and lip gloss and then left. Halfway to my house, a car pulled up beside me and lo and behold, it's him. Hop in, I'll give you a ride. He called out from the passenger window. I'm good, thanks, I'm almost home. I said back while speeding up my pace. No, come on, it's okay.

He called back and at this point, he sort of pulled up and angled his car so that he was nearly on the sidewalk. Uh, no thanks. I yelled back at him before running to the other side of the street. I kept my walking pace but I was freaking out. I heard his engine rev behind me, turned to see his car coming towards me on the wrong side of the road and I just ran till I reached my house. Probably not smart but I ran inside and locked the doors and screamed for my older brother that some creeper was outside trying to get me in their car. My brother ran out and the dude took off, thankfully, and I didn't walk the Walgreens again.

So yeah, creepy dude who grabbed me on my actual bra and then tried to get me in your car let's not meet, like ever, and also person standing behind Creeper Dude, you suck for not helping a 14 year old girl getting her bra pulled on by some old, disgusting man. His name was, for the sake of the story, Levi, and he was 16. I was 12, maybe a bit younger at the time. This was prior to my family moving from our hometown to the current small town my parents now reside in. Our hometown was, as I called it, a bible belt with almost 10 different churches and we belonged to one of them. As such, Christian youth groups were common, and being sheltered

during my childhood made that the only place I could socialize. But like every town, there was the group of non-Christians and kids from troubled homes that, when needing stability, would come to the youth groups. That's how I met Levi, a friend of an acquaintance who came on occasion to my youth group. It was Valentine's Day, and we were making chocolate hearts for people. I, being heavily influenced by my religion at the time, thought of being a good Samaritan and visited with Levi that night to be friendly. I even shared my chocolate with him when there wasn't enough. But that apparently gave him the idea, as I'd later learn, that he thought I flirted with him. Levi was way taller than me.

I was in the awkward puberty phase most kids go through and still was only 5'3". He was almost 6 feet and while scrawny and sort of pimpled, he was by far stronger than me. So yeah, you can imagine my shock when he showed up at my house a few days later and asked for me. Turns out that the acquaintance had given him my address and encouraged him to go see me because he quote-unquote had a crush on me. So from my strung together memories I humored him and let him stay over. My parents though stayed in close proximity which I was thankful for in the end. Truth be told while back then I was boy crazy he gave me weird vibes. However, I didn't understand the danger signals and while he made me uncomfortable, he didn't set off my parents' alarm bells so he was allowed to stay.

Acquaintance also gave him my number, as I did have my own cell phone at the time to contact my very few friends. He started calling constantly, wanting to talk about everything and things I didn't get. At first, I again humored it, but I have always been the type of mouth-off when I'm displeased. When he started to talk about women's breasts, I became extremely uncomfortable and hung up on him. From what I recollect, afterwards, he called back and then asked me angrily why I'd done that. I was back then honest to a fault and told him exactly why. He got upset and hung up himself, leaving me confused. He'd come almost every other day to

our house and my parents finally started to notice his constant presence as a little suspicious. He'd always come asking to see me, but when my mother refused he'd get angry and ask if I was hiding from him on purpose. It would take my dad telling him to go home that would make him leave, but somehow I'm unsure why he was allowed to visit me a few more times. Other behaviors made me uncomfortable, like him giving me small cheap trinkets like dollar store candy and jewelry. I always accepted, again being gullible and having respect drilled into me, and you can guess he did show up to a 4-H volunteer activity that I hadn't told him about and my church twice. Of course, at the junior-senior high school that my friend and he mutually attended, I was homeschooled.

He bragged to his friends about how I was his girlfriend, and he was waiting to get me alone so he could have his way with me. He even harassed my younger sister who was eight at the time to tell him where I was or if I was at home, if he caught her outside or playing with the neighborhood kids. I knew none of that was going on until years later, not that I would have understood. I was again only 12 and he was 16 and he took advantage of that. He went out for a walk one of the last times he ever visited. I was moving soon so luckily I wouldn't have to see him again. It was late and he started talking about relations and intimacy.

But this time it was about his own personal life. I didn't get half of what he said but I understood now that he, to be blunt, was implying that I should participate in that with him. I said no of course and he got angry and just completely lost it. He said a few things I honestly couldn't say what as that part is erased from my mind but as I recall what he did next was punch a tree in anger. He then went on to say things along the lines of how I wasn't being a good girlfriend to him and how he'd make it worth my while and finally the kicker my parents are moving away because he's not a Christian and they won't let us be together. I still can't figure out whether he believed any of that or was just saying it to guilt me into doing whatever he wanted. I obviously was scared of his outbursts. When he asked again if I'd do it, I started to scream at him.

I basically said that he was gross and hated everything about him and I was only nice to him because it was my Christianly duty. He went about as red as a beet and, yeah, you can guess he was ready to beat the crap out of me. I didn't give him a chance. I was still smart enough to do something about it. I kicked him in the legs and stormed off home. By some miracle, he didn't pursue me. Guess I was too much work to subdue or he was in shock. Either way, a week later, I thankfully never heard him again and even more thankfully had my cell phone stolen a few days after our move. He did try to contact me in that window.

He sent texts threatening to come after me and we could be together. The poor sucker who stole my phone probably had to deal with whatever other calls or texts he sent. To conclude this story, over the years I learned that Levi was a juvenile delinquent and had gotten into trouble for threatening to beat up classmates, harassing them, and to the females, inappropriately grabbing them. He never graduated high school, dropped out, went on to having many relationships, all ending badly. One girl even had to get a restraining order because, apparently, he threatened to mutilate her after she broke up with him.

This, of course, was rumor and word of mouth from friends, so I'm unsure what's true, but based on my own experience, I have a sinking feeling it's all very real. So last week I was backing into a parking spot in an unfamiliar townhouse neighborhood. My girlfriend was dog sitting and I was backing into a parking spot in an unfamiliar townhouse neighborhood. My girlfriend was dog sitting and I was visiting, and I caught my quarter panel on this older SUV, like early 2000s model. Car gets stuck, have to make the scrape worse to get out, basically the sigh moment. So like a decent human being I call my insurance, file a claim, leave a note explaining the bumper scruff with my phone number.

Guy waits until late the next day, texts me giving his name and asking for my name and address. I don't leave my name on notes in public. A phone number is generally fine and lets me know he's going to call me. Most of that seemed fine except that he didn't need my address so I replied with my name, policy number, insurance company and claim number so that he could get his car fixed. Again, minor scrape that took the chrome off the corner of his bumper and nothing else. Not even a dent. So he replies asking if I lived in the neighborhood and I told him no, I was just visiting.

No response. Cool. There are a lot of federal intelligence and R&D employees and contractors in this area so privacy is a pretty normal thing. A lot of people will just reply analyst when you ask what they do which is code for stop asking about that. So he calls me I pick up we chat. He pressures me to do out of pocket saying things like oh if you keep making claims they'll raise your rates and even drop you. Thanks for the advice but my last claim was

comprehensive like eight years ago and I think I'm fine. At this point I'm glad I sent pictures to my insurance co and had a text exchange so I have things in writing. So then he's like yeah so I looked you up online and got your address and like your last three addresses, so I should have what I need. Now I'm creeped out. Dude, I scuffed your bumper. I didn't break into your house. You don't need to know where I live.

You need my insurance information. You've got it. Leave me alone. So Friday rolls around and someone I know was shot and died Thursday afternoon and I attended their vigil in the afternoon on Friday. Obviously I'm not in any mood to deal with this crap and again he already has my information. Dude calls me again, leaves an incomprehensible voicemail and text saying just called you during the vigil. Thankfully I remembered to silence my phone. He texts me again with by the way way, who were you visiting? A few hours later. I blocked his number. He can call my insurance. This is way overboard for a scuffed bumper on a 15 plus year old car that I'm admitting fault for. Who knows what his intentions were.

When I was a small boy of four to five years, me and the rest of my family, father, mother, one year younger brother, were living in an apartment in a very relaxed area of my hometown. Usually we were well supervised by either my parents or a babysitter. On one evening however, my mother went to her sports group and my father had to do an unexpected extra shift at work. My mother had missed the weekly training several times recently so she really wanted to go and left my brother and me in front of the TV. If you ever want to stun children, that's the way. In an hour or so, my father would arrive. Out of routine, she reminded us never to open the door for strangers, and as a consequence of the traditional German education, tell your children scary stories about other children who did things wrong and how they died, we really knew this by heart anyways.

10 or 20 minutes after she left there was a ring at the door. Happily I thought about my father coming home so I got out of stasis, bolted to the door and more out of a habit than critical thinking I used our electrical door phone before using the opener asking, is it you dad? Back came a muffled yes which was anything but my father's voice, which I told the guy on the phone as well. After a short period of silence he now wanted to know whether I was alone, but I wasn't, so I told him only me and my brother were there. Again there was a period of silence. Listen, I'm a friend of your dad. We wanted to meet up this evening. I think you can just let me in and I'll wait for him to return. Of course, I was in doubt,

so I asked him about the names of me and my brother. He got the second one right, obviously, and mine wrong. But after I corrected him kindly, he just restated he wanted to be let up. It was a rainy evening. Over the course of the talk, all my alarm bells slowly started to ring, so I had to make really sure it wasn't someone who knew us. I went to the living room and discussed the problem with my brother. We came to the conclusion that there was only one way to find out, asking him the foolproof question, what my stuffed dog's name was. Of course he couldn't answer that and with that we finally told him that we should have told him from the beginning on that we won't open the door to strangers and that we will definitely call our mom if he doesn't go now. He seemingly gave up after that as there was no further response.

When my dad came back, we told him about the incident. As everybody probably already guessed, he didn't expect anyone to come over this day, or anyone the following days either. I've come to realize through reading so many posts on here that growing up and never really having any stability as far as home life is concerned, and being an extremely rebellious and awful teenager, that I have several stories myself that qualify for this sub, as I have unfortunately lived and frequented many places during my lifetime that creepers seem to also inhabit. Is that a word? I'm not sure if it's just a word. So I've decided I might start sharing some of my stories, if for nothing else than it being therapeutic just to get them out there.

In 2010 I gave birth to my middle child. He was born with some serious health issues and ended up being hospitalized for several weeks when he was only a couple of weeks old. Because he was so small, there wasn't a whole lot the doctors could do to help improve his condition other than IVs, breathing machines, and round-the-clock supervision. It was such a hard time, and my husband and I were a wreck. The doctors told us it was really just a wait-and-see type scenario, and we should just spend as much time as possible with him and hope for the best. So that's what we did. My husband was a store manager at a well known super center at the time and used his vacation time to be at the hospital with us. By the time his vacation ended our son was still in the hospital somewhat improving but it was

still really touch and go and my husband felt like he needed to be there with us. So he asked for some more time off and it was granted. He was told just to call and let them know when he could return and they put him back on the schedule. As soon as our son was well enough to come home my husband called his job to let them know that he was able to return to work. Turns out because of his attendance they decided to demote him to another position. He'd be making less money, but not a significant amount, and we could understand where his employer was coming from because they were generous with the time off they allowed him and that our son's health issues weren't the problem.

He's an employee and he's supposed to be there, whatever. We could still survive on his new salary, no big deal. Within two weeks of returning to work, my husband got injured at work. In order to continue working, his employer said that he had to go to physical therapy before he could return. So he was out of work again, so soon after returning. After a few weeks of physical therapy, he was cleared to return to work, but his employer started drastically cutting his hours and after all the expenses we incurred with our son's health issues and my husband being out of work, our savings was almost entirely gone and we were not going to be able to keep up

with the expenses much longer. At that time my son had a lot of issues that required me to be able to go home and give him treatment for and I couldn't return to work so my husband started looking for another job with full-time hours so we could make ends meet. He quickly found a new job making significantly less money but still more than what he was making with his current employer's cut hours so he took it and intended to keep looking for another job as well. We are steadily falling behind on bills and rent and trying to put food on the table with our two children and provide everything a new baby needs, and we realize we weren't going to be able to continue living where we were living. We explain this to our extremely kind landlord and are allowed out of our lease.

We begin looking for a cheaper place with a short lease so that when things pick back up, we can move back into a better place. Eventually, we found a place that was incredibly cheap and ended up moving in. It was in a bad part of town, a part of Dallas that was well known for being a bad part of town, and if you're from Dallas, then you'd probably know exactly where I'm talking about. However, I'm homeschooling my daughter, and our son is still small, so I'm not worried about them going to school in the area. And I figured it's only a few months and when my husband is at work, the kids will stay inside. We were in a desperate situation and I was trying to be positive.

We would make do with what we had until we could do better. This place is a complete wreck. It used to be a house but is now a duplex and most of the other houses on our street are abandoned and have been vandalized, including both houses on each side of our home and the street looks generally scary. However, our next door neighbors are extremely kind and it put me at ease having them next to us because if anything were to go wrong they'd be right there. A couple of weeks into being there I start to relax. It's a terrible area and not many people live on our street but the few people I met were really

cordial and I didn't get any bad vibes from them. Mostly older people and a few families and seemingly no shady characters, much to my surprise. Because of those factors I began to feel more comfortable with the area and think maybe I'm just judging it so harshly because of how run down it is and because it is a notoriously bad town. So I began to think that just because it's run down doesn't mean everyone that lives there has bad intentions. So instead of sitting on my backyard to smoke my cigarettes I started sitting on my front porch. That was a huge mistake. As I'm sitting there smoking my cigarette, people watching, I see a man walk down the street I have not seen before, which is unusual in this type of neighborhood, so I remain vigilant, but also don't think much of it until my dog, who was just a

small, elderly, well-behaved wiener dog, started losing her mind when she noticed him. This was not normal behavior for her. She never barked at anyone. When she started barking the guy stops dead in his tracks and stares directly at me and my dog and starts pounding on his chest, throwing his arms up in the air like, come at me bro. I was freaked out and as I was about to turn around and go inside with my dog, something overcame her and she sprinted right off my porch and directly toward the nut job in the street. When he saw that she meant business he started to walk away, quickly. Still my dog kept following him and barking like crazy. I was in shock. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to get my dog but I didn't want to walk up to this man. This went on for several seconds

and then the man turned around and started yelling at my dog, threatening her and making stomping motions like he was going to stomp on her head. I was scared and I wanted to protect my dog so I ran out to the street and scooped her up and ran inside. I heard the man yelling behind me as I was running in that he was sorry. I went in, locked my doors and tried to calm down and not let my kids see that I was shaken up. A few hours go by and I wanted another cigarette but didn't want to go back out front to smoke so I was just going to sit on my back porch when I realized I had forgotten my cigarettes and lighter out front. I cautiously looked into the street from the window to make sure that the creep from earlier

was good and gone before stepping out but the the porch is large and long, and from the window you can't see the bench that sits between my door and my neighbor's door. When I step out, I'm absolutely stunned to see the man from earlier sitting on the porch, on the bench, between our doors. I admittedly kind of froze up, and before I could say or do anything, he said he wanted to apologize for earlier, but he didn't want to scare me by knocking my door. Oh yeah I guess that makes sense. So just give me a heart attack by sitting on my porch and waiting for you to find there sitting hours later. And how did he know I'd even come back out anyway? He explains he's just afraid of dogs and wasn't going to hurt my dog but was just hoping

to scare it off. I'm at a loss for words and I kind of just nod my head and wait for him to leave. He doesn't leave. He still just sits there staring at me. This continued for a minute before my daughter broke the silence by coming to the door and saying that my pot of water is boiling over. This is when I really started panicking because now he knows I have kids and I'm obviously home alone, no car in the driveway and at this time my phone was out of service. It was a hard time and I just couldn't afford my phone bill so I'm terrified about everything that could happen. Neighbors aren't home, I don't have the car, no way of calling anyone. I felt sick to my stomach. I tell my daughter to go sit down and then I'm coming.

I tell the man that I have to go and book it into the house faster than I've ever moved in my life. I keep looking out the blinds for the man to leave. After about five minutes, he walks away. Ten minutes later, there's a knock at my window. Yes, my window. I peek out. It's the man. I reach over to the fireplace, grab my fire poker just in case, and I very, very slightly crack the window. I peek out. It's the man. I reach over to the fireplace, grab my fire poker just in case,

and I very, very slightly crack the window. He asks if dinner is done and if he can come have some food. I tell him I don't have enough and I'm sorry. He goes on to explain he's homeless and he hasn't eaten in days and he's starving. I know it's really stupid, but I have a soft spot for helping the homeless and I hate seeing people go hungry. So I told him that if he would go stand across the street at the park while I put a plate of food on the porch for him, that I would give him something to eat and drink. He agreed, and he stayed across the street while I placed the food on the porch. After he ate, he left. When my husband got home, he found the used dishes on the porch. I told him what it was about and he scolded me, rightfully so. After that, days went by and I didn't see the man again.

I just assumed he was just a passerby, down this luck that was generally afraid of tiny dogs, wasn't well socialized and meant no harm. But I was wrong. Shocking, I know. Eventually, I started seeing him walk down the street again. Occasionally, he'd see me through the window, smile and wave. That went on without incident for about two weeks off and on. Then one day, my dog starts flying off the handle, flipping out again, and I assume it's because my neighbor's rather large pit bull had gotten into our side of the backyard.

Not the first time, but the dog is a sweetheart, so unless my dog is bothered by her, I don't complain about her being there, and I went to let my neighbor know so he could come get her. When I stepped out, my neighbor's car is gone and the man is again sitting on the bench, but doesn't even seem to realize I'm there. He's just sitting there slapping himself in the face drooling and scratching his back and neck. He is rocking back and forth and talking to himself saying all types of crazy stuff I can't understand and he doesn't seem to hear my dog barking or notice anything that's going on around him. I am thoroughly afraid of what I am seeing. I don't say a word and I quietly back up and go back inside to figure out how to get him off my porch. Then I remember he's scared of dogs and maybe if he sees

my neighbor's giant pit bull he will snap out of whatever trance he's in and move along. My next move is undoubtedly stupid but I'm worried about this man sitting on my porch while my kids are home and my husband and neighbors are gone so I want him to go away. So I grab the dog's leash, go to my backyard, and put the leash on my neighbor's dog. I tell my daughter to get to our dog, go to the back bedroom, lock the door, and sit in there and watch TV while her brother is napping, and she does. I then gather all my freaking courage and walk this massive pit bull around to my front porch and just stand there waiting for this lunatic to snap out of it and realize I have a huge dog out here and hope he's going to run off.

Cookie, the neighbor's dog, starts barking upon seeing him and finally he slowly looks up and smiles the absolute creepiest smile I've ever seen and says, hey there, I didn't know you had two dogs. He said this normally in a normal tone, as if he hadn't been acting like some kind of psycho talking to himself and doing all sorts of other odd crap. So I said, yes, but she really doesn't like people she doesn't know and sometimes she bites. He got a terrified look on his face and actually jumped over the railing rather than walking past this dog and I. When my husband came home the creeper was again walking down the street and stopped to talk to my husband.

I see the interaction in the driveway and step out to see what's actually going on and apparently he's asking my husband to bum a cigarette. My husband honestly didn't have any on him and I was out, so we told him no we didn't have any. Also this is the first time my husband has ever seen this man so he had no idea who he was at the time. The man said, okay fine can I have some water? Giving my husband the same homeless spiel he'd given me. My husband, who also has a lot of passion for the homeless, gave him a few dollars and told me to go in and fill up a jug of water and give it to him, which I did. We handed him the water and walked to the porch. When we get to the steps, we hear

the man cussing under his breath and talking to himself, and turn around to see him pouring out the water we had just given him, calling us terrible names and we just kind of looked at each other like we have no idea what's going on. He then calmly turns around, throws the empty jug of water on the ground and then proceeds to pull out a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and throws it at us. He was just asking for a cigarette. He was mad we didn't have any. Turns out he already had a pack and then he throws them at us. My husband told him to get off of our driveway and to never come back again. I told my husband that he was the guy that had been coming around and thought he was on drugs or some serious

mental issues. After this, my husband immediately calls to have my phone turned on and starts having his dad stay with the kids and I while he is at work. Once Crazy sees that my father-in-law is there at all times now, we start seeing less of him. Actually, I only saw him once after this and that was in the back of a police car at a nearby gas station. More on that in a minute. After not seeing him for a while and thinking he got the hint, we come out one morning to find that there's poopy toilet paper all over our lawn and porch. We immediately know it was him. We ask all the neighbors if they saw anything and they claim they haven't so we don't bother calling the police because we know they're going to tell us that there's nothing they can do without proof. We didn't even know this guy's name. Plus cops in the area are known to not be so great anyhow, so it feels like

a dead end. After the toilet paper incident, there's two more crap-related instances where poop was smeared all over our windshield and then another time on our front porch. Along with, you guessed it, poopy toilet paper strewn everywhere. A week or so after the poop incidents, we're pulling up to a gas station to see him in handcuffs on the curb in front of the store. I never found out why but I was so happy to see him being put in a police car. After that we ended up moving to Austin and getting as far away as we could from that situation. Things are great now. My husband has an amazing job, my children are doing wonderfully and we have never

lived anywhere like that again. I don't know whatever became of him but I pray that he got some help. So that's one of my crazy long stories. If you enjoyed hearing about my misfortune and would like to hear any more of my run-ins with weirdos, I'm always happy to oblige. This happened to me about 10 years ago. I'm a male and I work as a physical therapy assistant and my first job out of school was at a nursing home that I had previously interned at. One thing I remembered about working there was the drive. It was about 20 minutes from

home and a good part of it was through a forest preserve and was absolutely gorgeous in the fall time. The other thing I remember was one patient in particular, an older gentleman named David. David came to our facility for rehab services after almost dying of a blood infection post surgery. He was barely able to move at the time and required extensive help from the staff for even the most basic of needs. Needless to say, he was in bad shape and was going to need a lot of work to recover. David's family was very involved in his stay and usually one of his two daughters was present when he'd have therapy. The younger one was usually there about 90% of

the time. Her name was Sarah. David and I seemed to hit it off right away. We were both from the same area and despite me being a quiet person, we always seemed to have something to talk about. I have to admit that he was a challenge to work with sometimes, usually because of his physical limitations and also that he'd want to give up a lot of the times. But either I or Sarah was there to give him support and keep pushing him forward. So one particular day I left work to go home. The drive had been like all the others before it, around 20 to 30 minutes depending on traffic at the time. The house I grew up in had a kind of long driveway that was

inclined in the middle and then flattened out when you reached the garage. This was the first spot I usually parked in when I'd get home. So I parked and got out, and that's when I saw someone standing at the top of the inclined part of my driveway. It was Sarah. Now let me remind you, this happened years ago so it's hard for me to tell you exactly what I felt right then and there. But for a young guy who considered himself relatively strong and brave, I know a sense of fear came over me. Add to it shock. I had no idea she'd follow me all the way home and for a larger woman who had made it up my driveway in no time, I didn't remember being in my car long after I'd

shut the engine off. So my car was on my left side and a metal fence was on my right. Behind me was the garage door which was closed. Sarah and I just looked at each other like we both immediately knew this was wrong. And after a bit she started to walk towards me and I'm pretty sure I hadn't moved a muscle yet. Sarah spoke but all she could do was spit words out at a few at a time. Would you, you know, ever want to... I remember her half smile mixed with a lot of guilt as she spoke. Ah, I can't. That's all I could say. I guess she was asking me out but who really knows. There was awkward silence for a bit before she spoke again. I'm sorry. She just repeated it as she then turned

and went back down my driveway. I waited until she was out of sight before I moved an inch. I just saw she was driving off from where she parked on the street. Luckily nobody else was home and I never told anybody about what happened. Not my family, friends or even my girlfriend. Nobody. Now you'd think that was the worst part of it. The next day, guess who was at her dad's therapy session? It felt so uncomfortable. Her on one side of her dad and me on the other.

He was a large person himself so luckily I had a buffer between us. I tried to act professional and like everything was cool but every once in a while she'd whisper, I'm so sorry and I did my best not to draw attention to it or just smile and say it's okay. But it wasn't okay and I even considered going to my manager, but I didn't tell him either. It was like I didn't want it to be real. Eventually, David left our facility. He had made a remarkable recovery and was able to leave on his own using a walker. He went home with a caregiver, and life went on.

I never did see her or hear from him or Sarah again. A few years later, I was at the church with my wife and kids when an older looking woman walks up to me and says hello. She knew my name but I didn't recognize her at first. She told me David was her father and that I had worked with him at the nursing home a few years back. She wasn't Sarah, this was David's other daughter. I asked her how David was doing and she said he had passed away about a year ago. She thanked me again for helping him and we talked a bit longer before she turned to leave, but stopped and then turned back to face me.

What she said next I can remember clearly to this day. I still can't believe what my sister did to you. Back in 2011, I was within a circle of friends that made it a tradition to go camping at a certain spot every May long weekend. The spot we chose was in a beautiful area right on the edge of a large lake and was located on government land. The lake itself had a dam on it, so during May long the water levels were always low, if not completely empty, making it possible to walk across. People were allowed to camp there as long as they weren't causing trouble or making a mess, and it was generally a good time for everyone. The spots themselves were spaced far enough apart that you had your own privacy, but not far enough that you couldn't meet other people. In this particular year, our spot was in the middle of

a small hill with one campsite below us and one above us. The first night of our trip happened without incident. During the second day, the people staying at the site below us had moved in. We didn't think much of it and continued drinking throughout the day and into the night. At about around midnight, the people at the campsite below us were really out of control. They were yelling and screaming and their music had gotten even louder, so our friend Ben went down to ask them to turn it down. He was promptly punched in the face, and he came back to inform us that he was 90% sure that they were on something. After that, the vibe wasn't as relaxed, and we were all somewhat on edge.

I was feeling really tired, and I just decided to go to bed. Some of my friends were still awake, including Ben, and one couple, Lily and Derek, that were visiting another campsite we had made friends with that day. I could hear that the campsite below was still blasting their music and partying pretty hard, but I just tried to ignore it and go to sleep. I don't know what time it was when I was jolted awake. Part of this was somewhat of a blur. All I know is that I sat straight up as soon as I heard the screaming and

yelling coming from outside my tent. I quickly ran outside to find our campsite in chaos. One of my friends was clutching their chest. People were running around and screaming to call 911. I was quickly informed of what happened. Apparently, not long after I had gone to bed, the people camping at the site below us decided they weren't finished talking to Ben, and on their way up, they encountered the Lily and Derek walking back. Now, Derek and Ben are about the same height and have the same color hair, so they must have assumed that Derek was Ben, and bottled both him and Lily over the head with a full glass bottle. I don't know if it was the same guys that showed up at our campsite, but I was told that everyone else was sitting around the fire when two or three

huge guys appeared from the darkness and walked over to them. One had a paring knife and the other had a butcher's knife in his hands. Ben saw the knives and had gotten up to talk to them, and had barely spoken a word when the guy with the paring knife stabbed him once in the chest. At the same time, some people from the campsite above had seen the guys coming and came down to help. One of the guys, Tim, was coming down the hill when the guy with the butcher's knife ran up to him and stabbed him in the stomach. From there, sheer panic ensued. People called 911, but the ambulance was over a half an hour away. This is when I came out of the tent. Tim's wounds were bleeding profusely and he was losing blood way too quickly.

His friends ended up putting him in the back of his car and speeding off to meet the ambulance halfway. Ben was also bleeding and his wound wasn't as deep as Tim's and we were able to keep him calm until an ambulance arrived. The guys with the knives ran off into the darkness, backed down to their campsite and took off in their Land Rover. My boyfriend at the time and I had gotten into his car and drove to the entrance to try and flag down the policemen on their way to the scene. Once they arrived, we were informed to stay in the car as they had released a canine search unit to hunt down the people who stabbed our friends. By the end of the night, they had arrested the men. They had tried to flee by driving their vehicle across the lake bed, where they got stuck in a muddy section of the lake. They were on a concoction of several different substances,

as suspected. Luckily, both Tim and Ben survived. Although Tim had lost a lot of blood and took a few weeks to recover from his wounds, Derek and Lily had huge goose eggs and possibly one person had a concussion but I can't recall. It was definitely the scariest thing I've ever experienced and a few of us had to testify against them in court. I've attached an online article about it if you're interested in reading it. When I was 14 I lived down the street from a Walgreens and would walk there to buy candy or makeup maybe once or twice per week after school. It was less than a 10 minute walk and I mostly felt safe, although at that age we all felt invincible. One day, standing in line waiting to pay for my

goods, I felt something tickle my back. I've always had long hair and figured it was a random loose strand so I ignored it. Then the random tickle turned into something solid and I felt a grip on my bra, like full on someone is holding the back strap or hooks of my bra on their hand. I made a noise, rushed forward, nearly bumping into the person in front of me and turned around to see a dude standing behind me. I started to ask and burst out but he cut me off and said, someone is supposed to teach you how to use those things. I was super confused. Naturally, I questioned what he was talking about. Your bra. Don't you have someone to teach you how to put

those things on? I reached back and felt that my bra was above the back of my shirt and apparently the hooks weren't fully aligned. It was a three hook bra and I guess I only had hooked two of them off center or something but I was still confused. Okay, I said, super creeped out at this point. Well, you're walking around like a dog in heat. At least fix your bra or let me do it for you. Okie doke. I faced forward and ignored him, paid for my candy and lip gloss and then left. Halfway to my house,

a car pulled up beside me and lo and behold, it's him. Hop in, I'll give you a ride. He called out through the passenger window. I'm good, thanks. I'm almost home, I said back while speeding up my pace. Oh, come on, it's okay. He called back and at this point he sort of pulled up and angled his car so that he was nearly on the sidewalk. No thanks, I yelled back at him before running to the other side of the street. I kept my walking pace but I was freaking out. I heard his engine rev behind me, turned to see his car coming towards me on the wrong side of the road and I just ran till I reached my house. Probably not smart but I ran inside and locked the doors and screamed for my older brother that some creeper was outside trying to get me in their car.

My brother ran out and the dude took off, thankfully, and I didn't walk to 10 p.m. and I had a sandwich with me. I have to take this bus to get home with maybe 16 stops until it's mine, which is not a busy stop, usually only me and sometimes one more person gets off there. I got on the bus at the back door and the minute I sat down this drunk guy comes up to me and asks if I speak Hungarian. There are relatively a lot of beggars around here so I'm not surprised. I said no, which was a lie, so I avoid further conversation. He starts speaking to me in English and asks if I could give him some money for food.

I say no, I haven't got any Hungarian currency on me right now. Again, a lie, because I just wanted to eat my sandwich in peace. This guy then proceeds to signal me to give him a piece of my sandwich and almost breaks a piece of my sandwich. So I say, sorry dude, no offense, but I just want to eat my sandwich. At first he seemed pretty chill about it, but this is when it gets interesting. He sits back on his seat, three seats behind me, and I notice he's not alone. He is with two equally drunk gentlemen. The bus now closes its doors and starts.

As I'm eating my sandwich, I hear the guys start talking about me in Hungarian, assuming I don't understand saying things like man this idiot won't give me a piece of a sandwich. Man I would bash his head in with glass I'm so angry. I hear them agree on getting down at my stop so they can beat me up. I never had to deal with a situation like this so I start to think and come to the conclusion that my best option is to get down at my stop and run home, not on the usual route, cause I can easily outrun three 30 year old drunk dudes. Meanwhile, cause I'm focused on what to do, I don't touch my sandwich, maybe one fourth of it remaining. This got them even angrier. Hey man, he can't even finish his sandwich. I bet he gets home and throws it in the trash.

Then one of them said that he murdered someone in his dream. The other one says he dreamt the same thing too and this is not a coincidence. I'm there like surely they aren't that barbaric. But I was wrong. I hear them discussing my height, weight and buffness and agree that they can take me easy three on one. At this point I'm sweating and thinking about other options because my stop is coming up. We're heading into the suburbs,

the bus is starting to get empty. Then I realize I can just pretend that I'm going to get off somewhere and hope that they get off so I decide to do that. At the last relatively busy stop before my stop I stood up and went to the front door when four other people stood waiting to get off. The bus stops and I start to go towards the door but stop when they can't see me. Surprise, surprise, they get off. The guy starts walking to my door calmly cause there were other people at the stop. But when he got to my door, luckily it closed. I checked if anyone got off with me at my stop though.

I think this could have gone so much more worse, and I was lucky to get the best case scenario. Here is a short history of how this all began. I was about 16, my mother told me a friend of hers needed a babysitter and I was more than willing to take this job because I could always use the extra cash. I have a very close relationship with my mother so I had complete trust in this friend of hers since my mother doesn't trust just anyone. So I began to babysit for her, 10 and 7 year old daughters. The oldest had a major attitude but after I became their regular sitter, she wasn't as difficult to deal with. If you're curious as to why I'm sharing this, it's a vital detail to the story. Let's fast forward several years. I am about 19 years of age. I know this because I had graduated

high school the year before. This was a major deal in my life so it's all very vivid in my mind. I hadn't babysat for this family for about two years by this time. I was pretty busy with going to college, working my part-time job, and spending spare time with my family and close friends. One day my mother approaches me and asks if I would be willing to befriend a girl that her parents felt needed socialization. She gave me a few details before I decided on what to do. She told me that the girl that she wanted me to befriend was one of the girls that I used to sit for. I asked her who she was referring to because I sat for several families when I was

a full-time sitter. She told me who it was. I was slightly hesitant because of the attitude she had when I first met her but I was always open to helping other people in any way that I could. I began to get together with her every once in a while. I would invite her to small gatherings with some of my other friends but only if there were other younger ones with us like their little sisters or something. I was always in groups of people of various ages, usually around the ages of 13 plus and always with both guys and girls. My older friends and I were sort of the big sisters of the group so that's why we were always happy to have those types of get-togethers. She slowly opened up to me. She began to share with me that she was dealing with depression and often thought that she

was unloved by her family and friends. She also told me that she had contemplated ending herself and was cutting. Well, the reason I took to her more than the other younger ones is because I had dealt with those same exact thoughts and feelings when I was around her age, so I wanted to do my best to give her a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on. I would give her some advice, anything that I thought would benefit her. Once she felt that she could trust me, I tried to broaden her horizon, but things slowly would take a strange and eventually sinister turn. Now, when I would try to invite her to our usual get-together or social

events, she seemed very standoffish. I was a little surprised, but not too much because I knew how difficult things were for her and it did take her some time to warm up to people. Eventually, she began to try and drag me along with her when she had one of her, I don't want to be here attitudes. For example, we would go to the house of another friend of mine. There would be maybe six or eight of us in total and we would watch movies or do something else. This was before the days of social media and the everyone has a cell phone era. She seemed to want to go, but as soon as we got to wherever it was that we were, she wanted to leave. She would pull me aside and say, I don't want to be here, let's go.

Well, I at first was kind and would tell her, come on, let's just stay for a little while. If you still don't want to stay, we will leave. I soon learned that she didn't want to stay, even if we were all having a great time. Eventually, she kept pulling me aside whenever we were in group settings, so I just eventually stopped inviting her altogether because all she wanted to do was leave, no matter what the circumstances were. I mention this because it's another vital part of the story. I would just spend time with her once in a while, just her and I. She began to call me on a daily basis. It started with two to three times a day and eventually got up to seven to ten times every

single day. As I said before, this time in my life I was always extremely busy so I wasn't always home. I had my own telephone landline because I was able to pay for it myself. I had an answering machine, not voicemail because I was too cheap to pay for a feature I didn't need. Anyway, I would have to change the tapes way too often because of how much she would call and leave me messages after message. She would leave messages like, where are you? Why aren't you answering my phone calls? Who are you with?

That was just a little too weird for me. Even when I told her that I wasn't always home until late in the evening or night time and all she had to do was leave one message, as soon as I was home I'd return all of the messages I had for the day. That didn't deter her from continuing to do this day after day. I began to get really annoyed but stupid me didn't listen to my gut instincts. I kept telling myself she just needs a friend it's not her fault. Boy would I soon learn that was just not the case. Eventually I kind of drifted away from her for a bit, not intentionally, just because things in life seemed to speed up and I was even busier than

before. I would have very few times that I could get together with a friend or two, possibly going out to eat, shopping at the mall or maybe even seeing a movie. Out of nowhere she began showing up wherever I was and no, I didn't tell her where I was going or who I was with. Like I said, I had pretty much drifted away from spending time with her. We lived in a pretty big suburb so it's not like it would have been easy for her to know where to find me. I began to get really creeped out because I thought it was way too coincidental that she was everywhere I was when I would be doing anything recreational. She even found out where I worked and what college I was going to, something that I never told her. She was obviously not college age so why was she at my college campus with her mother?

She wasn't even in high school yet. This is not even the creepiest part. Yes, there's more to this story. When I was on break from college, I had the time to spend with my family and close friends. I did get together with her a couple of times, still not listening to the creep meter I had going off. That was so stupid. Well, things took an even more weird turn, an unexplainable turn. She would ask to spend the night, and I didn't really do sleepovers anymore since I was of age and pretty much leading my own life. But she was still a young one so I would invite her once in a while to stay over. Somehow I have no memory of how this happened but she

wouldn't leave. It's like she slept over one night and then just never left. Trust me there was definitely not an open invitation for her to stay long term. I told her that she couldn't stay with me because she had to have her own life and so did I. She got very angry with me and for several days refused to leave. Thankfully I was still living at home and my mom had to step in and pretty much tell her bluntly to get out. She had a little temper tantrum that night but she did end up leaving. By this time I had been fed up with her irrational and erratic behavior. I was avoiding her like the plague. I didn't call her back. If she was somewhere I was I would duck

into hiding so to speak and try to lose her in the crowd. That didn't stop her from increasing her strange behavior. Her family even did some things that I feel sort of helped her to stalk me more. This is not something I am making up. This actually happened to me. She moved to a street around the corner from where I live. Now, that's not the scary part. Her and her family moved into a house which, from her living room window, you could see directly into a house which from her living room window you could see directly into our backyard and from there you could see the window to my bedroom. Yes, that happened. I only know this because I found out where she had moved and my mom was still friends with her mother so I remember going over there once when she wasn't home and when I looked out their living room

window I could see her house, my bedroom window from our backyard. We had a chain link fence so you could see everything. I got the chills when I saw that. When we got home I informed my mom who was so busy socializing that she didn't even notice. That's when my mother tried to talk to her mom and tell her about the situation. Her parents both ignored my mom's warning. My mom tried to ask them to talk to her about backing off, well, that didn't happen. Things just escalated from there. Her mom even tried to convince me to stay friends with her and wanted to pretty much pawn her daughter off on me. I don't even remember what she said to try and convince me, I just remember saying to myself, okay lady, you're just as nuts as your daughter. It wasn't long before the most

sinister and disturbing part happened, and this was the last straw. I was home alone one day. She was still living in the stalker house, so this had to be how she knew I was the only one home. I wasn't talking to her. I had even changed my phone number and told my friends to absolutely not give it to her, which they respected and happily obliged. Anyways, as I said, I was home alone. It was maybe 10am and I was just getting up to take a shower and get ready to start my day. As soon as I get out of the shower, I hear the doorbell ring. I think nothing of it and go to answer the door.

I always look through the peek hole before I answer the door, something I still do to this day. I see several police officers standing there. I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, thinking something had happened to one of my family members. I answer the door and they ask me, are you B? B is a reference to my stalker's name, using that to protect my identity. I answered, no, she doesn't live here. The officer then asked, do you have an identification with you? Which I answered, of course, but it's in the back of the house. I have to go get it. Now mind you, I am totally confused as to why they're at my door and why they're asking me for my ID. The officer then proceeds to tell me that he has to come with me when I go into

the back of my house. I just nod in agreement but still confused as to what is going on. So we go into my bedroom, I grab my ID and I show the officer who I am. He just says, okay thank you. We sit down for a moment and talk to you? I of course agreed and motioned him back into the living room where the other officer had joined us. We sit down and they tell me that they had received an anonymous phone call that there was a young lady that lived at my address by the name of B. That was extremely depressed and may have already taken her life. I just sat there for a moment in complete shock. I told them that she used to be a friend of mine but that I hadn't talked to her in quite a while but that she already did not live there. They asked me if I had any contact information for where she was.

Thankfully I still had her info on hand. I then gave them her contact information, telephone number and home address. They thanked me for my time and left. I thought that was the end of it. Not by a long shot. I apologize for the length but this is all important to get out. After they leave I called my mom immediately. She proceeded to tell me to come to her workplace until I had to go to my classes for the day. I hightailed it and drove to her office since she owned the business. It was no problem for me to stay there for a few hours. I stayed there until I had to go to class and then went on with the rest of my day,

although I was still shaken up a bit. The rest of the story is from third-party perspective. All of my close friends knew about the situation by this time because her behavior was way too psychotic for me and I was going to do whatever I needed to so I would be safe. I believe a few friends of mine and myself were at a coffee shop, one of the internet cafes from back in the day and we were talking when another mutual friend walks in and comes right up to us, looks at me and says, I have to tell you something. I was like, okay, shoot. Apparently a few days before, they had run into Bea and they said she looked eerily exactly like me. My jaw dropped and I asked, what do you mean?

We in no way look similar, in no way, shape or form. I mean, it wasn't like you would confuse one of us for the other. Well, she had apparently began to dress very much like me, dyed and styled her hair like me, wore the same kind of bracelets I would wear. I had a bit of a thing for friendship bracelets back then and just looked exactly like me. I was shocked to my very core. I had been on the phone with a couple of friends of mine. I had the three way calling feature where you could call two people at once and all talk to one another. One of the friends in the line had informed me that they had heard about why the report incident occurred. Mind you, this is a few months after the fact. She had heard from another reliable and trustworthy friend of ours that the reason there

was that call, this is going to blow your mind, is because Bea had called anonymously saying that a young lady by that name lived at my home and was incredibly depressed. That's not the craziest part. The reason she did it is because they wanted the police to think I was her. She gave the police my physical description and this was before she started looking like me so that they would take me away to a psychiatric ward therefore she could take over my life. How super crazy could she be? I don't know how she thought that my family and friends would allow her to do that, but this is how mentally unstable she was.

Now the timing for me was perfect. I only say that because I was getting ready to move away from the area because I was starting a new job and life had taken me in that direction. My family was moving away with me for obvious reasons so we in fact did move away. It was the best thing to ever happen to me because she just got worse and worse over time. She began to harass my close friends trying to get my whereabouts like my address, phone number, where I had moved away to. They didn't give her any information since they knew how psychotic she was. At one point she even began to stalk the brother of one of her very close guy friends just so she could try to intimidate him to tell her where I

was. He had to have his grandparents step in because he wasn't of age yet. I have no idea what happened to that situation from there since I had moved away by then and the internet wasn't of age yet. I have no idea what happened to that situation from there since I had moved away by then and the internet wasn't like it is today. Now let's fast forward to 2012. Mind you, the stalking began around the year 2000. Obviously since it's 2012, social media is a big thing and of course I had a Facebook account. I didn't think of my privacy because to me, all of that was long behind me and I had eventually forgotten about Bea. One day I go to sign on and take a wild guess as to who tried to friend me on Facebook. My heart sank for a second. Then the first thing I did was delete her request and block her fast.

Thinking I had taken care of the eerie online encounter, I was wrong yet again. She began to have her friends message me, asking me why I didn't accept her request, why did I block her, blah blah blah. I blocked each and every person that contacted me until the message just eventually stopped. Not quite to the end yet. The last run-in I had with her online was when she tried to contact me through every single social media account I had, Twitter online was when she tried to contact me through every single social media account I had, Twitter, Instagram, etc. I blocked her of course. She then proceeds to try and make fake accounts using my photo and name. I thought, okay little miss crazy, I'll fix your fanny.

As you must know, by now I am more assertive and didn't take any kind of craziness from anyone. I had all the fake accounts closed by reporting them to all the social media outlets, but not before getting as much information as I could, reporting her to the proper authorities. Thankfully, I had documented everything that happened in the past and I kept it all stored away. What can I say? I'm a pack rat. Once I get the reports out, the contact stopped. I also change my name that I use on every social media account that I have. Instead of using my legal name, I use an alias instead.

This is one thing she does not know about me. No one except for my immediate family knows this little fact. I also put everything on super private and have set some super high security measures. Now one last fast forward. May 2016. I turn my phone on like I do every morning and after my phone loads up, it says no service. I knew there had to be a mistake so I called the phone company, asked them why my phone had no service since I just paid my bill. They looked on their system and proceeded to tell me that in

their notes they received a phone call a few hours earlier that morning from a young lady, they assumed it was me I guess, and she said that she had a new phone and that the phone number needed to be transferred to this new phone. When they told her that the name didn't match on the account, somehow, and I have no idea how, she got them to change the name on my account from my name to hers. I have no idea what she wanted to accomplish by doing this and even worse how she got my number. I explained that this person was a long time stalker and that I had reports to the police that I have to be protected against her because she is capable of anything. So they asked me to go into their corporate offices so they could change everything back to its original state, as well as putting some security

measures on the account so that this wouldn't happen again. Now since then so far I haven't had any more incidents. I am absolutely on high alert because if she was willing to wait 16 years and still wants to find me for whatever reason there's no way in hell I am going to let my guard down. The only reason I didn't file a restraining order is because as far as I know she does not know where I live and I want to keep it that way. However if she thinks that I won't ever file one if she does find me she's got another thing coming and B. I hope we never meet again so fast forward to when i was a teen maybe 16 to 17 i don't remember exactly how old i was when

this happened because i was smoking all the time with my friends so my memory is kind of fuzzy. Kids I advise that you don't smoke and if you are wait until you're an adult it messes up your memory. I remember being in high school and that's where I met my friend and being underage because of the dialogue that transpired and this was one of those evenings when we smoked in the park in the middle of one of Sweden's huge cities where she lived. We always smoked somewhere outside secluded because first of all we were teens, second it was and still is legal in Sweden. So after we were done smoking we went to go home to my friend's place and watch a movie because this was a weekday and we had school the next day.

It was either autumn or winter at around 8 to 9pm. Very dark and cold outside. We were wearing our winter jackets. The walk was like 15-20 minutes and passing very open, very lit public places so we weren't afraid at all. We did this a lot and this was routine. We were just walking across one of the city squares like we always did when a very short chubby Swedish man and maybe his 50s ran up towards us from behind shouting, hey you two. I'm 163 centimeters which is like five foot four and I remember the man wasn't that much taller than me and my friend who was the same height. He was either cross-eyed or had a glass eye. I remember being credibly out

of my mind and staring at it during the conversation. Normally I wouldn't stare at something like that, but yeah, still very distorted and it looked kind of weird. Also, the man was balding, very unlucky genetically. He asked, Do one of you girls have a lighter? To which my friend responded, not wanting to be rude, Yeah, sure, and handed over her lighter. It was kind of windy so the man was struggling to try and light his cigarette or maybe he was

doing that on purpose because the next question he asked shocked both me and my friend to the core. While lighting the cigarette in his mouth he mumbles, you two interested in being in a movie? The apartment is close by. You'll get, don't remember the sum, but he named a large sum of money for each of us. Just like that out of the blue while casually lighting a cigarette and people actually walking back and forth around us. I froze. For once I didn't know what to say or how to react. It freaked me out. Never have I ever been asked something like that. Fortunately, my friend wasn't paralyzed. She said still trying to be polite. Dude, we are underage.

The man didn't seem to be bothered by that at all. He shrugged. So? Still waiting for an answer. His demeanor angered my friend. Dude, what is wrong with you? And the man said with a creepy smile, still holding his lighter and smoking. Nothing. I promise you guys are going to have a good time. The guys are

really nice and respectful. And he puts his disgusting hand on my shoulder. My friend then realized that there was no point in arguing with the man. He was obviously a disgusting creep. She grabbed my arm and ran towards a busy street while yelling back at him, Keep the lighter! And then we walked fast through some smaller streets changing our route, still on our way to our place, but making sure he wasn't following us. We stopped at one point and she looked me in the eyes and asked, Are you scared?

I nodded, still kind of in shock and traumatized, and she could tell because normally I would say something. She puts her hand on my back and says, me too, let's go home. He really messed us up. Back at my friend's place while watching the movie, we were both still shaking. Neither of us got any sleep that night, and it took us a lot of time to forget about this. I slept at her place every night for weeks. After living in Vancouver, BC from 1984 to 2001, I decided to move home. Mom was getting up in years and the dumb reasons for leaving the Providence didn't exist anymore. I was a single mom of a preteen at the time. So I settled into a small town outside of the

capital region and worked in daycare. I loved my job but ended up getting double pneumonia so had to find different work. So I went back to school but ended up working as a nanny for a year. So as I wasn't able to find work, I went back to school and did a course in customer service and call center work. I had a call center job selling the history of Christianity. When I left, they had just published book six of a 12 book series. So finally, I was thrilled. I got my dream job. I started part time, but soon I was being called to fill in for other shifts as employees had their choices of jobs. Also Lewis Craft had a requirement of being able to knit or crochet as well as knowing most of the product they sold.

Because I was moving around from store to store I often wore my apron home forgetting that I had my name tag on it. This is important for what happened later. My name tag was a cross-stitched tag using a rather large alphabet so my name was easy to see from far away. It was stitched in turquoise on a white background so it was easy to see. So I got pretty settled into my new job and I supplement with another part-time job. I paid more and got SSI on my back. It was also around this time that I met my future husband.

During this time I realized I had to deal with my alcohol consumption so I was attending meetings after work unless I worked at WEM, west end of the city. So one cool late summer evening I'm waiting for the bus to head home after a meeting. I could have walked, but I was tired. My boyfriend, now husband, said he would come pick me up, but I said no, that's okay. I don't mind taking the bus. Little did I know that I had wished I had taken him off on his offer. So I'm sitting at the bus stop, relaxing, listening to music on my Walkman. It was either Billy, Gilman's Everything and More, or Barry Manilow's Greatest Hits Volume 3. So the area I live in has some big issues.

Countless acts of crime. It was also where I could find the cheapest rent though. I'm minding my own business, listening to tunes and waiting for the bus when this old truck pulls up in front of me. I'll call him D.I.T., Dude in Truck. The passenger window is rolled down. He says, Hey Lorraine, wanna party? I can hook you up with some good stuff.

I actually didn't realize that he had used my name at that point. No, thanks, but not interested. Come on, it'll be fun. What part of no don't you understand? Sees bus,, relieved sigh. He sees the bus and pulls away but he then does the strangest thing. When I'm waiting there in a catholic church, a dead end lane next to it and then a community league with a playground and a park. He backs his truck into the dead end lane and watches as I get on the bus. By this time I've pulled out my cell and called the boyfriend

asking him to meet me at the 7-11. Don't bring the chuck, just walk there as it will be faster. My creep radar was going off and I was in fight or flight mode. Not that you could see though. Driver asked me if everything was okay. I said that I was being followed and I stayed next to the driver. The driver saw I was being followed and let me off at the light as it had just turned red so I could cross the road to the 7-11. Now my boyfriend doesn't usually do PDA but he realized what I was doing when I was exaggerating the hug and kiss. He saw the car drive off quite fast. After that he pretty much picked me up and after a while I didn't see the vehicle but winter had set in so no more evening walks or waiting for buses. So I put this out of my mind until one spring day I saw this picture of Thomas Zvekla on the front page of both major newspapers.

I actually got physically ill. This was the driver in the truck. He was found guilty in death and acquitted on another. He was questioned several murders and disappearances. He's currently sentenced as a dangerous offender, which means he will never get out of rising. This happened five years ago, two weeks before my 15th birthday. My family, parents and younger brother and I, a male, had just moved into a relative's house since ours was being remodeled and repainted.

It was just a matter of one month, but my brother and I were still pretty excited to be moving to a new house. The day we moved our parents had to go to a friend's birthday party but since it was a school night my brother and I stayed home and had a pizza for dinner. When the clock hit our bedtime we went to bed almost immediately. Our parents are pretty strict about curfews. I should mention that in our new house we were sharing this room that had a single bed in the corner and a mattress that we had got from our old place on the floor parallel to the door. I got the bed and my brother slept on the floor. We switched off all the lights, saved the night light and went to bed but instead of sleeping just started chatting. We hadn't shared a room in forever. While we talked I felt like I heard something downstairs a couple of times but

I wasn't sure. I was certain that it wasn't my parents though. My mom had a habit of coming in our rooms to ensure we were asleep every time my parents came home from an outing at night. So I asked my brother if he had heard anything and naturally he told me I was a moron and flipped me off. I didn't hear anything anymore so I went to sleep. Right when I was about to drift off, I felt something crawl into bed with me, something that was shaking like a leaf in a tornado. I almost screamed but soon realized it was my brother. He was shaking and he was crying.

He told me that there was someone outside our door. I didn't even think he was joking, he was too shaken up to do that, and I could see tears on his cheeks thanks to the nightlight. I almost immediately realized that he must have seen someone through the gap between the door and the floor. His bed was placed such that if he lay on his side he was facing the door. I stood absolutely still for ten seconds, whispered to my brother to hide under the bed, moved very slowly toward the door without making any noise, and deadbolted it. Despite my best efforts, it did make a loud clunk noise. Not a second later, I swear, I saw the doorknob turn with great force too.

The person tried the knob a few more times, then started banging the door, not saying a single word. The whole time, I was leaning against the door, not saying a single word. The whole time I was leaning against the door scared that it would give in if the person was super strong. Looking back I realized that wasn't possible thank god. The guy banged on the door for like 10 minutes straight and I joined my brother in his crying and quite audibly so now that I think about it. What I mean is they must have definitely realized we were just kids. When the banging stopped, we heard the person run downstairs, but neither my brother nor I dared to move an inch.

We didn't have cell phones in the room either, and I sure wasn't going out to check to see if it was safe. When my parents finally did get home, they started shouting for us, because the front door was wide open. Only when they came to our door and we heard their voices individually confirming that they were our parents indeed did we open the door. The police were called. They checked the house and made sure it was safe for us. What was weird was that nothing valuable was missing.

Everything from my dad's work laptop to our PlayStation was untouched. I don't think they ever did catch the person because we never got a call from the police. Whoever this psycho was, I hope he never comes back. Thanks for listening. Be sure to subscribe and click that notification bell to be alerted of all future narrations. If you got a story be sure to submit them to my subreddit, r.letsreadofficial and give and receive feedback from the community and maybe even hear it featured here on the channel. And if you want to support the page even more, grab early access to all future narrations for just $1 a month on Patreon and maybe even pick up some Let's Read merch on Spreadshirt. Links in the bio. Thanks so much, friends, and I'll see you again soon.