Never Underestimate The Kindness of Strangers LetsNotMeet

This incident took place back in 2008. I was about halfway through my first year of college and decided that pledging a fraternity would be a good way to meet new people. Turns out I was right, the kids I met during this time are still my best friends today and actually stood in my wedding. But, this story isn’t about them. It is about an alumni that frequented many of our closed initiations during pledging and lived in the college town since graduating four years earlier.

As a little background, I grew up in small private schools (graduating class of 18) and had VERY few friends throughout high school. In general, I was and still am rather shy. I was raised to give people the benefit of the doubt, trust people until they give you a reason not to, never underestimate the kindness of strangers, etc. Basically, I have been taken advantage from time to time because I am overly trusting of others.

Now, pledging is different at every college/university and there are different thresholds of what you can can’t get away with. Going to a small school and not being a national chapter, we were able to do just about anything we wanted. I don’t necessarily condone a lot of it and I was fortunate to pledge a fraternity that cared more about bringing the people closer together than making them puke from doing sit-ups and beer bongs.

The night of which this story takes place was one of the more mentally challenging nights. We were blindfolded at 4PM and made to stand in a small room in our fraternity house for hours with a particularly unpleasant song playing on a loop and offset multiple times by multiple speakers. One by one we would get pulled out of the group and grilled for about a half hour and sent back to wallow in shame for not knowing things like the middle name of a fraternity member who graduated in 1986. A little ridiculous looking back on it, but it was really important back then and it really brought us together as silly as that sounds.

I was one of the last to go and finished around 2:30AM. Before the night began I had told my pledge master that I needed to leave before the night was over because I was volunteering for a charity event early the next morning. As this was taking place in the basement of a small dingy fraternity house, I was being led back up the stairs from where I came, but instead of being led back to my group I was pulled in a direction that led outside as I could tell from the cold night air.

I still have my blindfold on and am waiting for something to happen when my pledge master rips it off of me and continues the verbal dismantling. Standing behind him is one of the other assistant pledge masters and an alumni who I only know as Dave. As I mentioned, Dave graduated a few years before (about 25/26 years old) and never really left the area to find work. He showed up back at the fraternity house during events like the one I am describing and had an uneasy way of overstaying his welcome. Outside of this, I really did not know him and had no reason to cast him in a negative light for being awkward at times and not wanting to give up on his glory days. Once my pledge master ran out of things to berate me for, he told me to get going so I could get some sleep before my volunteering. As the event was still going on in the house, the pledge master and assistant pledge master returned to the house and I was left to stand outside with Dave feeling pretty low.

“Hey man, try not to worry about it too much. Everyone has trouble with these nights”. Dave said.

I told him I wasn’t too beaten up by it and I understand most of it is for show.

“So what this thing you got going on tomorrow?” Dave asked trying to move on from the night.

“Oh, nothing crazy, just a school sponsored charity event. My mom has the disease so it’s been something I’ve done for years”. I told him thinking he was just trying to make small talk.

“That’s taking place right next to the activity center on the west side of campus right? I live right across the street.” Dave says.

This is where my ignorance and trusting behavior got me into trouble.

“You only have a couple hours until it starts, why don’t you just crash at my place and I’ll wake you up when you need to go?” Dave insists while motioning to his car at the end of the driveway. Now, in my mind, my pledge master knows this guy, trusts this guy at our very private events and trusts him enough to leave me with him. Why the heck shouldn’t he? We were all fraternity brothers and part of that bond is helping one another in times of need. Or at least that’s what I’m thinking.

I hesitantly agree for two reasons:

My apartment was about a 25 minute walk away and he had a car.

The activity center was about another 15 min walk away from my apartment.

This would save me a lot of time and energy after a pretty tiring night.

He begins leading me to his car making small talk about what he experienced during pledging and how it’s not easy on anyone. After a short five minute car ride we pull up to a small ranch house that is literally across the street from the activity center. He wasn’t lying, this is working out great and I even have time to get some shut eye.

Again, in my mind, this dude is looking out for a future bro and just being nice to someone in need. See how trusting I am of strangers? He opens his front door and it is incredibly dark. We walk into his family/living room and I notice he only has a couple of La-Z-Boy type of chairs in front of an old box tv. O.K. guess I’m not sleeping on a couch.

He continues to lead me through the living area, past the small kitchen and mentions that this is a two bedroom house so I can sleep in the guest. Perfect.

We get to the room and he slowly opens the door and flips on the light. As I walk around him and begin to enter the room, I see something that makes me questions what I just got myself into. On the small twin bed in the middle of the room are a small pair of shorts and a small t-shirt laid out like you would for a child getting dressed in the morning. They were old high school wrestling gym clothes. Clearly worn and neatly displayed on the bed.

“I got some clothes laid out for you to wear so you can get out of your pledging stuff” He says without skipping a beat. It had a tone that made it sound like it was meant to cover up the uncomfortable situation, but was made as more of a demand than an offer.

I said, “sure thing” and closed the door behind me. Of course there is no lock, because why would there be in a creepy house with a creepy guy who wants me to wear his old clothes that are way too small for me.

For about 2-3 minutes I just stand there staring at the clothes thinking, why would these already be put out if he didn’t know I (or anyone) was going to be needing a place to sleep? Why was he still at the pledging event when no other alumni stayed past midnight and opted for the bars instead?

Just as I am slowly beginning to freak out, I realize I have my phone on my again. During pledging we have to hand in our phones and during this time I rarely had it on me. I powered it back up and before the screen is even warmed up, “BUZZ”…. “BUZZ”…. “BUZZ”…. “BUZZ”…. “BUZZ”….

I have about 10 text messages from my pledge master, both assistant pledge masters and some of my fraternity members along with a few missed calls peppered in.

In chronological order as best as I can remember:

“Hey, where are you? Did you already leave?” – Pledge Master (PM)

“Did you leave with Dave? – Assistant Pledge Master 1

“You’re not with Dave are you?” – Assistant Pledge Master 2

“Text me or call me ASAP” – PM

“If you’re with Dave you need to get the fuck out of there” – PM

So here I am, in a man’s guest bedroom, staring at his old childhood clothes he wants me to wear behind a door that doesn’t lock with my phone blowing up with people telling me to get away from this guy who I willingly let take me to his house.

I stood there for a few minutes waiting for my heart to stop pounding and figure out my next move. I don’t know if this was the smartest, or best move, but I decided to exit as quickly and nonchalantly as possible.

Opening the door, I would have to walk past the kitchen and family room to get to the front. What I noticed was again, there was no light on in the house. Not even coming from the other bedroom where I would have assumed he would be. I began walking passed the kitchen when I saw him out of the corner of my eye.

I think I startled him as much as he startled me. He was leaning up against the refrigerator that was facing away from the hallway I was walking down. He didn’t have anything in his hands that would make sense to be in the kitchen and didn’t look like he was doing anything other than waiting in that spot. Before he could get a word out, I flipped my phone open (yes a flip phone, it was 2008) and in stride said, “ya know what? I forgot, I need some paperwork for tomorrow morning that is still at my apartment. I appreciate your help though.” And powerwalked/jogged out of the house. It all happened so quickly I don’t think I even gave him a chance to react after initially alarming him. In the next four years I never saw him return to the fraternity house or any function. However, this isn’t to say we didn’t hear from him again.

It turns out he is more unstable than I initially thought and was arrested multiple times for cornering women in public and exposing himself. After my incident with him, I was told numerous stories from other older fraternity members that eluded to him being predatory by nature. Never with a younger fraternity member, but has enough of a history that he had eyes kept on him at all times when he was around fraternity functions.

I still like to believe people are genuinely good in this world and I have no problem underestimating the kindness of strangers, but because of this little life lesson I am much more critical in these situations.

Submitted October 10, 2017 at 01:24AM by free_n_easy_06 http://ift.tt/2yaafLo LetsNotMeet

The Man with the Black Book LetsNotMeet

So this is an event that happened maybe 10 years ago. While not paranormal or supernatural in anyway, a lot of the details are rather like something straight out of a horror story. I want to point out that obviously I didn’t witness any of the weird shit described to me in this encounter, nor am I in anyway trying to suggest that they were real. All I witnessed was a mentally ill homeless man in the throes of an incredibly disturbing psychotic break, the details of which I found really creepy and fascinating.

A little background first; I’m from a little town in Northern Ireland, which is a scary place, but for entirely worldly reasons (think violent paramilitary scumbags). The night this happened was a typical night for 18 year old me; I was walking my then girlfriend home at around 1am. She lived on the other side of town, and our walk home passed by a couple of rough estates. A long, unlit lane called Love Lane served as a shortcut between our two homes so I walked it almost daily.

It wasn’t an unusual event to witness some strange characters being that this ran by one of the dodgier parts of town. One I would see frequently was Jim, a homeless guy in his maybe mid 50’s, who was always walking around drinking a bottle of white cider. Anyway, he actually seemed harmless enough and was just a familiar face around town.

He was always friendly, usually shitface drunk and making conversation with anyone that walked by. I knew from previous encounters that he was living in a rather creepy place that we called The Witches Cave. Close to Love Lane, there is an old stately home, with a long glen running up beside it. A mile or so into this glen, there was a thick walled brick building going into a hillside that once served as the smokehouse for the nearby mansion.

A smokehouse for anyone that doesn’t know is a place that was used to smoke and store meat in the 1800-1900’s, before refrigerators. The smokehouse walls were pitch black from the years of smoke, and there was old white paint on the wall of a pentagram and the words BLACK END. Anyway, the place was creepy as fuck, hence the nickname Witches Cave.

This night as we walked into Love Lane it was an unusually bright night as there was a full moon and the sky was cloudless, and I could see Jim off in the distance. He was pretty animated, apparently shouting at someone we couldn’t see yet. As we approached him, I realised there wasn’t anyone else there, and that Jim was just shouting profanities at a couple of bushes. He seemed to be genuinely distressed, and given that he was usually an amicable character I stopped to see if he was alright.

First off I noticed that he had a real rabbit-in-the-headlights kind of look, his eyes were wide open and glazed. He was pointing towards the bushes, and asked ‘can you see him?’ There was no-one there, and I assumed it was just the silhouette of the bushes against a street light in the distance, playing tricks on his alcohol pickled brain. But he insisted there was someone there, and described a man holding a rifle, wearing what sounded like an old military uniform. And this soldier wasn’t the only figure Jim could see. He described vivid array of figures all around us. Strangest of all perhaps was ‘a naked woman with a bearded baby sat on her head, and a black man sucking her tits’.

I was actually really intrigued by the surrealness of what he was describing. It seemed as if he genuinely believed it too, and wasn’t just trying to wind me up. Partly out of morbid curiosity, and partly out of concern for this guy’s wellbeing, I decided to stick around and listen to as much of his story as I could. So I asked him to slow down, and go back to the beginning and explain what was happening. This is where the details got really creepy and bizarre, and I will try to describe his account as best I can here.

So Jim told me he had gone to sleep in The Witches Cave earlier in the evening, and had been awakened by something dripping on his face. He wiped it with his hand, and looked at under the little moonlight that shone through the entrance; it looked like wet black paint. He looked up to see where it was falling from, and to his horror he saw slaughtered pigs hanging from the ceiling above him. When he realised that it was pigs blood that had been dripping on him, he ran frightened out of the cave and into the glen.

As he walked along a track that runs parallel to the river, he saw a woman standing not far ahead of him in the dark. She was facing away from him, but he could tell she must have been old by the way she was standing. As he was preparing to pass her on the narrow path, she turned to face him and he saw that one side of her face was terribly disfigured, like she might be a burn victim. Without saying a word, she pointed with a bony finger directing him further into the glen; then suddenly her form became liquid and was washed away in the river.

A little further into the glen, he said met another figure, ‘a clean-shaven young man’ that had looked a lot like me apparently! Despite the mans innocuous appearance, Jim knew that he was, in fact, the son of the devil. As you do. The man blocked his path, then raised some sort of horn to his lips and blew loudly. Upon the sound of the horn, a half-man, half-animal form rose up from the dirt beneath him. He only referred to it only as ‘the man with the black book’; but it was fairly obvious from the story up to this point that this was, in Jim’s mind, the devil.

‘The man with the black book’ then told him that his name was in the book, and that he would die soon. Jim asked what he had done to deserve such a fate; he pleaded that his name be taken from the book and begged to be given another chance. But ‘the man with the black book’ refused him all of his requests, and left Jim to make his way out of the glen, alone and seemingly desperately bargaining with the world.

Having gotten no sympathy from ‘the man with the black book’, he felt his only hope was to ask the dead for clemency. So he decided to walk to a local graveyard, which is around a mile from the lane where he is now stood telling me this story. When he got there and asked that they hear his case, the spirits of the dead buried there appeared to him. There he tried to plead his case, hoping he could get his name taken out of the black book.

However, when he had finished pleading for his life, the ghosts wouldn’t go back into their graves and had been following since. I can’t say how long this had been going on for, but for at least as long as it took him to walk the mile from the graveyard. And evidently, they had been there long enough for him to go from pleading for his life to shouting belligerently at them. And that’s where I left him; in Love Lane shouting nonsense at some bushes in the wee hours of the morning.

I was pretty disturbed, not because I was afraid of bumping into Satan or a bearded baby, but because he was so delirious I was worried he might actually hurt somebody. I was saying to my then girlfriend that I think I should call the police, have them come and section him for his own, and others safety. Shortly thereafter, I bumped into a couple of guys I knew around town sitting on a bench at the far end of the lane. I explained to them what I’d just witnessed, and they were pretty amused by the strangeness of it all. When I told them I was going to call the cops, they were like ‘you can’t do that dude, we have a load of weed on us’.

So I didn’t bother calling the cops in the end. As I was walking back home, around 3 am by this point, Jim was gone. Most likely wandered off into the glen for another psychosis sightseeing tour. When I got home, I wrote the details down so I would remember it all for when I decided I could be bothered to tell it properly. I think the thing that struck me most was how incredibly elaborate and creepy a hallucination can be. I also found it pretty sad that someones mind can just snap to such a degree that they go from being an otherwise affable character, to a frantic fucking lunatic.

Submitted August 17, 2017 at 08:23AM by Don_Sackloth http://ift.tt/2i9AVFo LetsNotMeet

The Man with the Black Book LetsNotMeet

So this is an event that happened maybe 10 years ago. While not paranormal or supernatural in anyway, a lot of the details are rather like something straight out of a horror story. I want to point out that obviously I didn’t witness any of the weird shit described to me in this encounter, nor am I in anyway trying to suggest that they were real. All I witnessed was a mentally ill homeless man in the throes of an incredibly disturbing psychotic break, the details of which I found really creepy and fascinating.

A little background first; I’m from a little town in Northern Ireland, which is a scary place, but for entirely worldly reasons (think violent paramilitary scumbags). The night this happened was a typical night for 18 year old me; I was walking my then girlfriend home at around 1am. She lived on the other side of town, and our walk home passed by a couple of rough estates. A long, unlit lane called Love Lane served as a shortcut between our two homes so I walked it almost daily.

It wasn’t an unusual event to witness some strange characters being that this ran by one of the dodgier parts of town. One I would see frequently was Jim, a homeless guy in his maybe mid 50’s, who was always walking around drinking a bottle of white cider. Anyway, he actually seemed harmless enough and was just a familiar face around town.

He was always friendly, usually shitface drunk and making conversation with anyone that walked by. I knew from previous encounters that he was living in a rather creepy place that we called The Witches Cave. Close to Love Lane, there is an old stately home, with a long glen running up beside it. A mile or so into this glen, there was a thick walled brick building going into a hillside that once served as the smokehouse for the nearby mansion.

A smokehouse for anyone that doesn’t know is a place that was used to smoke and store meat in the 1800-1900’s, before refrigerators. The smokehouse walls were pitch black from the years of smoke, and there was old white paint on the wall of a pentagram and the words BLACK END. Anyway, the place was creepy as fuck, hence the nickname Witches Cave.

This night as we walked into Love Lane it was an unusually bright night as there was a full moon and the sky was cloudless, and I could see Jim off in the distance. He was pretty animated, apparently shouting at someone we couldn’t see yet. As we approached him, I realised there wasn’t anyone else there, and that Jim was just shouting profanities at a couple of bushes. He seemed to be genuinely distressed, and given that he was usually an amicable character I stopped to see if he was alright.

First off I noticed that he had a real rabbit-in-the-headlights kind of look, his eyes were wide open and glazed. He was pointing towards the bushes, and asked ‘can you see him?’ There was no-one there, and I assumed it was just the silhouette of the bushes against a street light in the distance, playing tricks on his alcohol pickled brain. But he insisted there was someone there, and described a man holding a rifle, wearing what sounded like an old military uniform. And this soldier wasn’t the only figure Jim could see. He described vivid array of figures all around us. Strangest of all perhaps was ‘a naked woman with a bearded baby sat on her head, and a black man sucking her tits’.

I was actually really intrigued by the surrealness of what he was describing. It seemed as if he genuinely believed it too, and wasn’t just trying to wind me up. Partly out of morbid curiosity, and partly out of concern for this guy’s wellbeing, I decided to stick around and listen to as much of his story as I could. So I asked him to slow down, and go back to the beginning and explain what was happening. This is where the details got really creepy and bizarre, and I will try to describe his account as best I can here.

So Jim told me he had gone to sleep in The Witches Cave earlier in the evening, and had been awakened by something dripping on his face. He wiped it with his hand, and looked at under the little moonlight that shone through the entrance; it looked like wet black paint. He looked up to see where it was falling from, and to his horror he saw slaughtered pigs hanging from the ceiling above him. When he realised that it was pigs blood that had been dripping on him, he ran frightened out of the cave and into the glen.

As he walked along a track that runs parallel to the river, he saw a woman standing not far ahead of him in the dark. She was facing away from him, but he could tell she must have been old by the way she was standing. As he was preparing to pass her on the narrow path, she turned to face him and he saw that one side of her face was terribly disfigured, like she might be a burn victim. Without saying a word, she pointed with a bony finger directing him further into the glen; then suddenly her form became liquid and was washed away in the river.

A little further into the glen, he said met another figure, ‘a clean-shaven young man’ that had looked a lot like me apparently! Despite the mans innocuous appearance, Jim knew that he was, in fact, the son of the devil. As you do. The man blocked his path, then raised some sort of horn to his lips and blew loudly. Upon the sound of the horn, a half-man, half-animal form rose up from the dirt beneath him. He only referred to it only as ‘the man with the black book’; but it was fairly obvious from the story up to this point that this was, in Jim’s mind, the devil.

‘The man with the black book’ then told him that his name was in the book, and that he would die soon. Jim asked what he had done to deserve such a fate; he pleaded that his name be taken from the book and begged to be given another chance. But ‘the man with the black book’ refused him all of his requests, and left Jim to make his way out of the glen, alone and seemingly desperately bargaining with the world.

Having gotten no sympathy from ‘the man with the black book’, he felt his only hope was to ask the dead for clemency. So he decided to walk to a local graveyard, which is around a mile from the lane where he is now stood telling me this story. When he got there and asked that they hear his case, the spirits of the dead buried there appeared to him. There he tried to plead his case, hoping he could get his name taken out of the black book.

However, when he had finished pleading for his life, the ghosts wouldn’t go back into their graves and had been following since. I can’t say how long this had been going on for, but for at least as long as it took him to walk the mile from the graveyard. And evidently, they had been there long enough for him to go from pleading for his life to shouting belligerently at them. And that’s where I left him; in Love Lane shouting nonsense at some bushes in the wee hours of the morning.

I was pretty disturbed, not because I was afraid of bumping into Satan or a bearded baby, but because he was so delirious I was worried he might actually hurt somebody. I was saying to my then girlfriend that I think I should call the police, have them come and section him for his own, and others safety. Shortly thereafter, I bumped into a couple of guys I knew around town sitting on a bench at the far end of the lane. I explained to them what I’d just witnessed, and they were pretty amused by the strangeness of it all. When I told them I was going to call the cops, they were like ‘you can’t do that dude, we have a load of weed on us’.

So I didn’t bother calling the cops in the end. As I was walking back home, around 3 am by this point, Jim was gone. Most likely wandered off into the glen for another psychosis sightseeing tour. When I got home, I wrote the details down so I would remember it all for when I decided I could be bothered to tell it properly. I think the thing that struck me most was how incredibly elaborate and creepy a hallucination can be. I also found it pretty sad that someones mind can just snap to such a degree that they go from being an otherwise affable character, to a frantic fucking lunatic.

Submitted August 17, 2017 at 08:23AM by Don_Sackloth http://ift.tt/2i9AVFo LetsNotMeet

A ghost in retail LetsNotMeet

This happened to me about five years ago while I had the “privilege” of working in a men’s suit store while studying at a college in Cardiff, Wales. For anyone who is curious Wales sits just left of England and directly right of Ireland.

Cardiff is a nice city, nowhere near as big as England but it has gone through some pretty rapid modernisation of late. They’ve done a great job at keeping their historic architecture but there always seems to be a new Starbucks or Costa Coffee opening up every other week.

Some of the buildings in the city center have shiny new facades that wrap around the ancient structures like a shell. This became more evident to me on my first day at the store. My interview for the job took place bright and early one February morning and I remember how cold I was as I made my way passed the hustle and bustle of early morning commuters. Having been a student for year I wasn’t used to being around so many people this early in the morning. That being said I wasn’t really used to being up in the morning period.

When I arrived a good fifteen minutes before my interview was due to start I was greeted by an immaculate looking man in a pin stripe suit who I quickly recognised to be my new potential boss. His name was Andrew, he was a friendly guy in his mid-fifties, silver grey hair and just looked how you expect a manager of a suit store to look.

After greeting me he took me down to the bowels of the building where the staff room was located. We had to make our way down two flights of stairs and through a hallway full of your standard retail fixtures. I remember almost having a heart attack when turning a corner and coming face to face with a naked mannequin just standing there with its hands on its hips defiantly.

“Ah sorry about that, I stripped it yesterday as we needed the garment for another display upstairs, not very modest is he” Andrew said lightly with a chuckle. I laughed too. I felt comfortable before the interview had begun, this guy had a sense of humour.

When we entered the main stock room I was a little blown away. The walls, ceiling and flooring were completely different to upstairs. They weren’t just bricks but old carved bricks. The only thing I can compare it to off the top of my head would be something that resembles catacombs. Big archways hug over head in badly eroded red stone and the tiles beneath our feet were a dark marble.

Andrew, upon seeing my wondering eyes began to speak again.

“Ah yes I forget people are usually surprised when they walk in here, I guess I’m used to it “ he opened a wooden door that lead into a posh looking staff room complete with carpeted floor, a polished oak table and a brown leather couch.

“What I found amazing was when I learnt the basement down here as well as the basements in all the neighbouring buildings all look the same, they were once part of a Victorian tunnel you see, that connected every building in the street. Some kind of evacuation tunnel” Andrew finished and indicated for me to take a seat.

Two years later I had finished my course in college and had been asked by Andrew if I wanted a full time position while I figured out what my next step was going to be. Naturally I accepted as I really did love the job and the people I worked with had become like family to me.

Life being the way it was I found myself struggling to find jobs that although I was now qualified for, lacked the “experience in a similar field” it was infuriating, how could I have experience if nobody will give me a break?

Another two years after becoming a full time member of staff I was still at the store but I had managed to progress from ‘Part Time Sales Assistant’ to ‘Assistant Manager’ which was great for me as it meant a tasty pay rise and great for Andrew as it meant he could finally take more time off, take vacations and be with his family.

I actually really began to enjoy the extra responsibility, training new staff, delegating jobs and helping our team to hit sales targets.

We are now coming to the reason I am writing this. The reason I will never forget that place. It all went down one Sunday Morning. Sunday’s obviously being the quieter days of trade only required a ‘skeleton crew’ to run the Store. This is usually a manager (me) and one other sales assistant (in this case a girl named Amy). I quite liked working with Amy, we were of similar ages, she was cute and really down to earth. Most of our quiet periods were spent talking about everything and anything about our lives until we realised how much time had passed and began creating jobs to do out of guilt.

One Sunday afternoon after a pretty uneventful morning I walked into our office just off the shop floor to email our sales figures to head office while Amy manned the front desk. As we had two sales floors (upstairs was suits and downstairs was accessories / shoes) if someone went downstairs either Amy or myself would have to go with them. One of our rules was that under no circumstances were customers to walk around downstairs unattended.

As I began entering figures into a new excel spreadsheet I heard Amy’s faint voice under the store’s collection of non-threatening store music. If my memory serves me correctly I believe it was Nickelback she was quite rudely interrupting.

I reached for the knob of the Hifi and turned down the volume. “…. Want me to go?” Amy called. I poked my head out of the office door.

“Sorry what?”

“An elderly lady just went downstairs would you like me to go down? Or do you want me to watch the shop floor and you go down?”

I looked back at the barely started spreadsheet and then back to Amy.

“Its fine I’ll go, maybe I can sell her a sports jacket and cufflinks” I said with a smile.

“Oh do it!” Amy giggled as I walked passed her.

As I made my way down the steps to the ground floor I was surprised to find that nobody was there. The room looked pristine and untouched. I took a few steps forward and stretched my neck looking along the rows of formal jackets.

“Amy?” I called up stairs. I heard her shuffle along from the till to the doorway.

“Yello?” she asked.

“I thought you said there was a lady down here?” I asked quickly glancing back at the room.

“There is… I watched her go down myself” she said again confidently. I walked the full length of the room, passed the shoe displays to the changing rooms and back.

“Nope, no one here… are you seeing things?” I asked.

Amy looked both confused and annoyed.

“What? Can I come down?” she asked.

“Yes but quickly”

I watched as she made her way around the room and back.

“What the fuck….” She uttered under her breath while pulling back the curtains of the changing room.

“See just like I said, you’re seeing things”

“I swear to god this is freaky… I literally watched her enter the store at the entrance, the doorbell even chimed, I smiled at her and she just walked down here” Amy finished.

I noticed that colour seemed to be fading from her usually rosy cheeks. Just then I had a sinking feeling.

“What if she’s gone down into the basement?” I asked eyebrows raised. Amy put her hand to her mouth in a “oh fuck” fashion.

“Ugh what if she’s senile or something and just went down there? Did she acknowledge you when you smiled at her?” I questioned.

Amy’s eyes looked upwards in thought before returning to me.

“She didn’t… I thought she was just being rude.”

“Okay, go back upstairs I’ll go find her” I said a little exasperated.

I really wasn’t looking forward to this part of the job. One thing I learned from working in the fabulous world of retail is you often meet people from both sides of the mental health spectrum. My second week working at the store some guy politely used one of our changing rooms to try on a shirt and in doing so took it upon himself to urinate into the small trash can in there. Guess which rookie member of the team has the pleasure of fixing this problem?

As I entered the basement level the first thing to hit me was the void of total darkness. Funny thing about wondering around in the dark, you usually have some sort of natural light so you can at least see your hand in front of your face. But here, deep underground if the lights were off you were pretty much Stevie Wondering.

My hand went to my left and frantically felt for the switch and with a sigh of relief I flicked it back. The florescent tube light bulbs flickered into existence for a few moments before bursting light to all corners of the basement and as my eyes adjusted I quickly scanned around. “Nobody” I said with relief. The basement stockroom was quiet and untouched and also a complete mess. It was all of our jobs to keep the stockroom tidy but over the weeks of constant deliveries it had become more or less a dumping ground with crates stacked on top of each other. Another reason to not wanting to be wondering around here in the dark.

As I began to turn back to the door while thinking how it was going to be my sad duty to inform one of my colleagues’ that she’s been hallucinating. I distinctly heard the sound of a refrigerator door closing. I quickly turned to the direction of the staff room. The door was closed but the light from within seeped through the gap under the door. My heart began to race. The old lady was here… she must have somehow navigated her way through the stock room in the dark and was now making herself at home in our staff room, probably attempting to make herself a nice cup of tea perhaps. Without really thinking I marched forward and pushed the door open.

I was greeting with an empty staff room. The bags and coats hung neatly on peg hooks on the far wall, cutlery lay strewn around the draining board and a dirty washrag was lazily dumped on top of them (my bad). I remember thinking that perhaps Amy and I had been coming down with something because now I seemed to be hearing things. Just as the worry began to subside my eyes locked on the small fridge under the counter with its door ajar. “Hmm” I thought and gently nudged it closed with the tip of my shoe. It was at this moment my blood ran cold.

“Hello?” came a shakily elderly voice from behind me.

It was one of those experiences where you are so afraid that time seems to slow down. I began turning in the direction of the voice extremely slowly, almost as if on some level I wasn’t so eager to lock eyes with whoever was down here. I sighed again. Just the empty doorway. I decided I wanted to go back upstairs where the sanity seemed to be so I closed the staff room door and made my way back across the stockroom.

Just as my hand gripped the door handle of the fire door total darkness enveloped me. It was so sudden that I couldn’t help but unleash the unmanliest yelps I’ve ever created. My hand instinctively fumbled for the light switch and toggled it on and off to no avail. The lighting was completely gone. Now retrospectively thinking, a normal person would have opened the door and ran upstairs, saying “ta ta” to this fucked up situation but something caught my eye in the darkness. A light source.

The light was emanating from under the staff room door again. This didn’t sit right with me, a lot down here today didn’t sit right with me. But in regards to the light, I knew how the electricity worked in the building. All lights on the basement level were connected at the fuse box. If one light goes, they all go. I’m by no means an electrical engineer but I knew there was no way that light should be on.

Now call it basic human curiosity or human stupidity but I found myself moving towards the light. Navigating around the crates until my hands were pressed against the wood panelling of the staff room door. I pushed it and to my total bewilderment I was greeting by one horrifying site. All the cupboards were open now, their doors yanked wide displaying the plates and cups within. Over on the far wall the coats and bags had come away from the wall hooks and lay crumpled on the carpet below in a pile. A newspaper I had got that morning during my morning commute which had been neatly folded on the staff room table was now open and the pages had been pulled out. I remember I almost couldn’t breathe, it was a kind of terror I’ve never experience before or since. I became instantly aware of how … alone I was down here.

“Hello?”

I heard the voice again but this time closer than before. In fact this time it was right behind me. Now I’m not sure if this is a coping mechanism of the human brain but I remember the complete inability to turn around and face the owner of this voice. I was aware of a presence directly behind me and knew only too well that if I had turned in that moment id have seen something that I’d be describing to a therapist to this day. My body went cold, my hairs on the back of my neck were raised and I became aware of how annoyingly loud my heart beat was beating.

I looked forward and noticed the bottom half of our small cordless telephone poking out from underneath one of the newspaper pages. The phone lets us make external and internal calls around the building.

My hand slowly and shakily reached for it. Still feeling the presence behind me and the unwillingness to turn around I pressed “Int” and “1” and instantly heard the faint sound of a phone ringing above me followed my footsteps moving from one side of the store to the other.

“Yellooo” Amy said amused.

“Amy… can you come down here please” I whispered, my voice very slow and steady.

“….. What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Please just come here now” I said this time with a hint of panic in my voice.

The phone disconnected and I heard the footsteps sprinting across the ceiling above and then silence.

“Hello?”

The voice sounded so frail and gravely now and I swear I could feel it stepping closer. Somehow being down here and going through this had made me ultra-aware in a way that I haven’t been since. Just when I thought I was about to crawl under the table with my arms wrapped around my knees I heard the most amazing sound in the world.

“Hey” Amy said.

I turned around to see a very concerned looking Amy.

“Hey” I whispered.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded slowly.

“I… I just want to go upstairs.” I whispered again.

I felt her arm go around mine and she slowly escorted me out of the basement.

A while after I remember saying to Amy that she was my Hero, that she saved me from quite possibly having a heart attack. She found the story interesting and would often ask me questions on what I think I would have saw if I had turned to face it. But I’m fine not knowing what it looked like.

I sometimes wonder why I had reacted the way I had, why did I feel such intense fear, was it my own insecurity and cowardice? Or had i sensed that I was in danger? Or was the voice even real at all? Perhaps I had simply imagined it? I think it’s doubtful. I mean I didn’t create the mess in the staff room and Amy had seen a women walk downstairs.

I don’t know, but I do know that I’ll always remember this experience. It will be my one unexplainable story, I’m pretty sure everybody has one and this is mine.

It took a while before I was willing to go down to the basement alone and before I even had to get used to it I ended up finding the job of my dreams and so sadly I ended up having to say goodbye to my friends at the store.

Thanks for taking the time to read my story.

Submitted May 11, 2017 at 04:04PM by GAZArts http://ift.tt/2pAFI0V LetsNotMeet

Toenails LetsNotMeet

So, this will likely be a rather short entry as it happened about five years ago and was somewhat uneventful, despite it's grossness.

During my sophomore and junior year of college at Portland State University, I worked part time at a Northwest grocery store called Fred Meyer. I typically worked 6-7 hours a day, 3 days a week, and closed everyday I worked. This particular day was hitherto completely unremarkable, me checking people out every once in a while, when people need breaks, and restocking or readjusting products in the shelves. Midnight rolls around and, although I was almost always assigned to boxing up and rolling some of the produce back to the huge refrigerator section behind the store, my manager decides to let me off easy and tells me to clean out the furniture section of anything that doesn't belong.

The thing that I most traumatically and vividly remember from my stretch working at Fred Meyer was how torturous closing is. It's one of those things that you always remember, and to this day whenever I go to grocery stores I feel bad for the employees because it truly is monotonous and, in some cases, complete bullshit. Fred Meyer typically kept their store pretty dark after closing, every aisle probably had every second light on, and so the store was dim if not pitch black.

I make my way over to the section housing mostly couches and coffee tables, the occasional china-made lamp or inconveniently large, tacky clock. I find a couple things out of place, a can of Campbell's tomato soup, a Jiffy Pop, some ballpoint pens, and carry it all in my arms, back to where it goes. I came out the way I came in, the aisle sandwiched by large clocks and punny birthday cards, and see the back of a badly shaven head obscured by a pseudo-leather couch. The head was bobbing up and down, as if he were bobbing for invisible apples that floated in front of him. I slowly approach the couch and look at what the man is doing: vigorously chewing his own toenails and then spitting them out onto the floor. He was altogether disheveled and, although I hate to assume, likely homeless. He had scabs on his face and was wearing at least three different scarves, even though it was sometime in spring at this point.

The doors had been locked or otherwise deactivated (in the case of the automatics) and so I assume in retrospect that this man had been in the store for some time. He slowly looks up at me and grins ear to ear, puts on his sandals, and walks towards one of the entryways. I ring my manager on those lame walkie-talkies, walking with the man and asking for keys. We make our way to the doors and he waits patiently for me to open the door, he waves as he stumbles away.

I never saw him again and I don't know if I would have cared if I had. Sure he was kinda gross, but I felt bad for him more than anything. I only worked there until the end of that semester, so until mid-June, and left a pair of toenail clippers in the couch cushions just in case he decided to come back.

Submitted April 11, 2017 at 12:24PM by LePatagonia http://ift.tt/2nXR8eg LetsNotMeet

Creepy eyes and a pacifier LetsNotMeet

Long time lurker, first time poster. I have a story that belongs here.

For my Sophomore year of college in 2003 three friends and I decided to move into an apartment off of campus. It proved to be cheaper housing, was still within walking distance and the apartments were pretty nice.

Ours was a two bedroom, two bathroom units- we had bunk beds in the two bedrooms. My friend Maria and I shared one room and Destiny and Evonne shared the other. Life was pretty good: we were a bunch of 19-year-olds living hours from our "homes" and family members and in a nice apartment.

Not long after moving in to the apartment we met Katie, a girl who lived in a different apartment on the same floor as us. She lived in a 3-person unit with her boyfriend Kevin and their roommate Derek. Both Kevin and Derek were older- Kevin only a year older at 20 and Derek at 28.

The four of us girls in my apartment immediately befriended Katie. .and it didn't hurt that her roommate was old enough to buy us alcohol. My roommate Maria, myself and Katie got particularly close and Katie often invited us over to her apartment to hang out, watch movies, for dinner and so on.

Derek, the third-wheel roommate, was an odd character. He was older so he talked down to Katie and her friends often. Almost liked to make it seem like he was educating us every chance he got simply because he was older. He wasn't terribly bad looking but he did have what can only be described as "creepy eyes".

The best way I can describe them is exactly like actor Judge Reinhold's eyes in the sense that they were buggy but..they also never focused. He couldn't look anyone in the eye or at anything for more than a split second. Constantly dodged around. He would always sit quietly without contributing much to our conversations...but he would still sit there simply leering at us girls.

His backstory was that he started college at 18 but then dropped out after his Freshman year. He moved back in with his parents and did menial, side jobs for awhile before "getting his life together" and deciding to go back to college as a Sophomore at 28. He chose to live off campus in the apartment building (which was actually owned by the school). He was randomly placed in the 2nd bedroom of Katie and Kevin's apartment.

At this point, they had only known him for about 3 weeks or so. Katie described him as, "nice enough, just a little strange." Myself and my roommates were all a bit weary of him but shrugged those feelings off- we remained cordial. Plus, he offered to buy us beer whenever we wanted- told us we only needed to ask.

A week before Halloween, Katie informed my roommates and I that was they were going to be hosting a "blacklight Halloween party". They had purchased black lights and weird, psychedelic posters and decorations from somewhere and were planning on inviting quite a few people. Kevin was on the University's wrestling team so she said all of those guys would be there (and most of them were cute as fuck). A group of her girlfriends from where she was from in the next state over were also going to be making the trip for the party and she really wanted Maria, Destiny, Evonne and myself to meet them.

With no other plans set in stone this sounded like a good Halloween option: a party a few doors down meant not having to go out in the cold (it was a relatively cold October for our area) and there was less of a chance of us getting in trouble for underage drinking. Sounded good to all four of us.

The night of the party all four of us got ready excitedly. Yvonne and I had decided to dress as "biker babes": which basically meant Harley shirts rolled up to show off our flat bellies (miss those days a bit), shirt denim cutoff shorts, fishnet stockings under them and high-legged black leather boots. Right before heading down the hall to the party I rummaged through my jewelry box trying to find some "biker" looking accessories. I had the perfect bracelet: my Grandfather had passed away a few years prior and I was given one of about 3 of 4 black, leather bracelets he had owned.

My grandfather had been an actual biker himself and used to wear those bracelets often, so when I was given one of those it really meant a lot to me. A big part of me thought, as I was putting it on, "meh, maybe I shouldn't wear this? I don't want to lose it." My roommate Maria noticed me kind of stopping before putting it on and asked me where I got it. I explained the whole bracelet backstory to her before finally deciding (with twisted, 19-year-old-logic) that my Pap would want me to enjoy that bracelet and that it was meant to be worn with an outfit or costume like the one I had on. We walked out together as a group.

First thing I noticed upon arriving to the party was that it was PACKED. The apartments weren't very large to begin with, but word of the party traveled fast/far and the common space of the living room/dining room/kitchen was nearly full. Second thing I noticed was that the lighting wasn't great. It was relatively dark because Katie, Kevin and Derek were only using the black lights and the dim light over the oven. That light provides enough light for people to make their drinks or grab a cup of "jungle juice" (booze infused fruit punch) on the kitchen counter. We made our way to the jungle juice, grabbed cups and I filled each of our 4 cups. We set out to go mingle as a guy my roommate Destiny had a crush on was across the living room near the sliding-glass balcony doors.

People were dancing. Some were already drunk. There was hooting and hollering, loud conversations, singing..everyone seemed to be having a good time. Walking through the crowd was tricky- I held my full cup of booze close to my chest and tried my best to follow my friends across the room without spilling any on myself or anyone else. I'm making my way across the room when someone taps me on the shoulder from behind. I turn slightly and see Derek dressed in a long black robe with a hood.

"Hey. Glad you made it", he kind of stammered

"Oh ah, yea. We just got here." I replied

"Good." He answered abruptly.

At this point he turned around and started walking back in the direction of the kitchen. I turn back around and follow my friends to the small area they've convened in near my friends crush and some of the other wrestlers. I took a large gulp of my drink. To deal with this party atmosphere I figured I needed to catch up a little bit.

So we're standing there talking (mainly to each other), sipping on our drinks. Within about 5 minutes..I started feeling "funny". Not funny like I was getting drunk; funny like I felt like I was going to vomit. Now I'm in no way proud to explain that drinking was something I did very, very regularly from pretty much the day I went to college. By this point I was no lightweight and I could typically drink about 6 beers before feeling anything at all. So when I started feeling weird I "knew" it wasn't the few gulps of jungle juice I had consumed. We had only been at the party maybe 15-20 minutes at that point. I knew I didn't feel right and the urge to puke started creeping up on me more and more.

Not wanting to call attention to myself I quietly told just Maria that I didn't feel so good. She looked at me with a confused look but then reminded me that it could have been the day-old sushi I ate out of our refrigerator for dinner a few hours prior. I nodded my head, told her she was probably right. I told her I was going to go back to our apartment for a minute- their apartment only had one bathroom and I didn't want to hold up the line or be known as the girl tossing it up in the bathroom so early in the evening. Maria nodded her head. I forced a smile. Turned around. Literally pushed through the crowd to the door and then full on sprinted down the hallway to our apartment. Unlocked it. Ran to our bathroom.

Our bathroom was a bit of a weird set up. There was one in the main hallway that was considered Destiny and Evonne's bathroom. Then, in our bedroom there was a decent sized (long but not wide) walk-in closet. At the end of the closet there was a door and that door opened up to our own very small but full bathroom. Nevertheless, I had made my way to that bathroom after closing both the bathroom and closet door behind me. I felt so, so nauseous. I laid my head on the toilet seat..suddenly I started feeling out of it and tired. Like total shit.

I laid there for a minute when, suddenly, I heard a slight knocking. Real light tapping. I called out for Maria. Maria didn't reply: no one replied. At first I thought maybe I had just imagined that knock...but within what had to have been a few seconds the knock happened again.

At this point I had convinced myself that Maria was knocking outside to check on me. I used what little energy it felt like I had to get on my feet. Opened the bathroom door. Took a few steps through the closet. Without thinking, I flung open the closet door.

I wasn't prepared for what was on the other side.

There, standing in the middle of our bedroom was Derek. He was still wearing the long black robe (like the one from Scream) but it was opened in the front. He was completely naked under the robe. And he was furiously, intensely masturbating.

At first I thought he was punching himself in the stomach but it didn't take long to realize what he was actually doing. He had the most disturbed look on his face I've ever seen. His eyes were focused and staring directly at me. Like I said earlier, his eyes never focused on anything so this detail stood out to me almost as much as the masturbating.

I opened my mouth to scream but before I got anything out he yelled out in a deep voice that didn't sound like his own

"SHUT THE FUCK UP BITCH DONT SAY ANYTHING. NOTHING!"

I was shocked. I remember pleading with him to stop doing what he was doing but he was not letting me get very many words out. Every time I said anything he let out this primal, guttural yell. It was shocking and frightening.

I panicked. To get to the bedroom door and out of the room I would need to get past him. I did a quick survey of the floor around where he was standing, the bed, my desk- I didn't see any weapons. Before I even knew what I was doing I was darting across the room in the direction of the door. I got passed him..but he grabbed me from behind by my waist. He physically threw me on to the bottom bunk bed, which was Maria's bed.

I kept thinking "Oh my god! I'm going to get raped! Or he's going to kill me! Or both!!" I started screaming bloody murder, at the very top of my lungs. Derek threw his hand over my mouth and put all of his body weight on top of me. I was panicking and felt the urge to vomit again. I can see him fumbling behind his back with something; his hand was wrapped around toward where his ass would be. What happened next is the part that will forever haunt me.

He pulled a baby's pacifier out with that hand, the other was still tightly covering my mouth. He had a terrifying expression on his face; it was a creepy smile. Then he said:

"You're going to suck on Daddy's ass plug and you are going to like every fucking second of it. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME BITCH?! Suck on my ASS BINKY!!!"

It suddenly occurred to me where he had been storing that pacifier and something in me seriously snapped. I started kicking, punching, fighting with everything in me. I was able to completely knock him off of the bed and on to the ground. Just as I get to my feet to run the fuck out of there the door swings open...

It's Maria and Katie both. The immediate look on their faces when they saw the look on mine is something I'll never forget. At this point Derek had gotten to his feet. The robe was still wide open exposing his..everything. All three of us started screaming, Katie went straight for Derek and pushed him hard. I was in hysterics, Maria later said she remembers me screaming "HE PULLED IT OUT OF HIS ASS!!" over and over again. Typing it out now it almost sounds humorous but I can assure you that at the time it was anything but funny.

Another unsettling detail: immediately when Katie pushed him the entire look on his face changed. His eyes got real wide and he started shaking his head back and forth really, really fast. Suddenly he started acting like he just woke up. He started acting confused. He looked down and quickly threw the robe over himself and then clenched it shut with his fist. He started saying things like "Where am I?" and "What the fuck is happening?" as he looked around the room. He had never been in our room before that night and was looking around almost quizzically. Katie was screaming at him demanding that he leave, I was screaming and crying, Maria was yelling. Katie screamed at him to leave, he left and she followed him out.

• Maria and Katie had walked over to refill their drinks at the party and right on the counter Maria found the leather bracelet of my Pap's I had been wearing that night. It had to have fallen off when I was filling up everyone's drunk cups. Maria recognized it immediately as mine and mentioned that to katie. Katie asked where I was and Maria had explained I hadn't been feeling good and that I had gone back to our apartment. They then decided to quickly go together to quickly check on me and put the bracelet back in my jewelry box while they were there. That's why they came in when they did.

I couldn't be more thankful they decided to check on me and return the bracelet right then and there. As cheesy as it sounds I really think that was my Grandfather keeping me safe. If it hadn't been found by the right person then I wouldn't have gotten brought up and they probably wouldn't have come to the apartment to check on me when they did.

• I know I'll catch flak for this but I didn't report what happened. Never went and got tested to see if I had been roofied or if I had actually had food poisoning. Didn't have any major bruises or injuries, thank god. My suspicion has always been that Derek popped something in my drink when he was following behind me closely as I made my way through the party with my girls and that he watched me walk out and followed shortly thereafter. I only drank a couple sips of that drink, didn't come close to finishing it before feeling sick.

I don't know- on the other hand my memories from that night were somewhat clear and I remember the incident till this day. Regardless..I was terrified of getting arrested for underage drinking and getting Katie in trouble for having the party..not to mention all of the others underage drinking there. I figured if I called the Cops then everyone would get in trouble. I know this sounds absolutely ridiculous but at the time..I had already gotten in trouble the year before and if I were to have gotten in trouble again my parents would have pulled me from school.

• The morning immediately after this happened Derek left the apartment and didn't return, ever. He apparently packed up a few boxes in his bedroom the night of the party after returning to his apartment. Kevin had found out what had happened and he and another guy we knew confronted Derek as he was doing this. Derek told them he had to "go home" and that he sometimes has "blackouts". He told them that he can't control his blackouts and that they weren't alcohol induced blackouts but mental blackouts. He had only drank around 2-3 beers that night apparently; not enough to be blackout drunk. He had a car, he left in the morning before Kevin woke up and he never returned.

Kevin tried calling his phone the day after and he didn't answer. The following day Derek left Kevin a voice message saying that he was home and that he needed to get help. Told him he would call Kevin later to arrange pick up for some of his dishes and other stuff in the apartment but he never called back. There's obviously major pieces of the puzzle missing. Why had he left college in the first place way back and what had he done in the almost 10 years before he came back? He never opened up about his personal life to even Kevin and Katie. Never mentioned anyone other than his parents. Didn't seem to be on any type of regular medication while living in the apartment.

• I felt physically, mentally and emotionally horrible for days afterwards so much that I laid on the living room couch for four days straight. Mentally and emotionally..man, that messed me up bad for awhile. Someone stayed with me at all times for awhile. I remained terrified that Derek would return to the complex until I moved out that Spring.

• After this event.. I smartened up. It was a horrible, scary wake-up call for me in a twisted way. Stopped drinking as much. Started being way more serious about my studies. I still think about his terrifying eyes, that deep guttural screaming sometimes..it's still as scary now (14 years later) then it was at the time.

• I have no idea what happened to Derek. Where he is. What he's doing now. No clue. I've never attempted to look him up because..why the fuck would I?

Derek, wherever you are: let's never meet again. Ever.

Submitted January 27, 2017 at 08:32PM by Scentmama1 http://ift.tt/2ka2QV0 LetsNotMeet

Potential Break In LetsNotMeet

Long time lurker on this sub, first time posting after the scariest shit ever happened to me tonight. Here we go...

So, typically I like to stay up late at night and do all my cleaning around the house. I kinda have pretty bad insomnia so it's hard for me to sleep and when I clean it's my decompression. Tonight was no different.

So, just to give an idea of my surroundings... I kinda live in a rough part of town. My neighborhood is actually pretty decent but a few streets over there is a lot of drug activity and gang activity. My house is pushed back about 70 yards from the street and everyone I know who's ever been to my place always passes it up. You'd really never know there is even a house here even though it's kinda like suburbia. It's weird. Onto my story.

So, I'm doing dishes and right through my kitchen door is a laundry room/indoor patio where we also put our refrigerator. Before I started cleaning up the kitchen and doing dishes, I put a load of laundry in the washer and decided that I'd bring the dog and his kennel inside the laundry room patio after I finished hanging the clothes and folding them once I got them out of the dryer. Since it's raining, I started to feel bad and decided to let him in after I finished putting the load in the washer. I regret this tremendously.

So, after bringing the dog in and going back to the work in the kitchen I start hearing my dog growl. He's the guardian of the backyard and he's an attack dog (lab and pit, super lovable to us but he's a protector) and I knew something was off because I've never heard him growl while being inside of his kennel on the laundry room patio. He was getting progressively loud which weirded me the hell out so I went and checked on him and grabbed something to drink before I put something on TV waiting for the laundry to finish.

When I went to check on him, I heard a sound in the backyard. Right as I heard that sound, my dog let out a vicious growl louder than the previous ones and chills went all over my body. Right above the dryer, there is a window so you can see in the backyard, so I decided to flip the yard light on and see what was up. (I was kinda expecting it to be sounds from the storm going on outside)

As soon as I flipped that damn light on, staring at me through the window, was a guy in a black ski mask wearing what looked like a dark track suit. I have never screamed so loud in my life. You'd think this guy would take off after I caught him, but he started TAPPING ON THE FUCKING WINDOW SMILING AT ME. I yelled for my boyfriend to get the gun (we don't have a gun, but I thought yelling this would scare him away) and this guy took off like lightning. I've never been so scared in my entire life.

Thankfully, our house does have an alarm system and it was armed, so he wouldn't have made any progress getting into the house if that was his intentions. The cops just left my house and they said they would be patrolling the area as there has been frequent break ins around town. I can't sleep and I'm scared to death, my boyfriend tried to calm me down before he was able to peacefully go back to sleep, but it didn't work. Lol.

So, guy with the creepy ski mask and track suit in the rain who would have been attacked by my dog if he were outside. Let's not meet, like, ever.

Submitted January 04, 2017 at 02:04PM by fakesgetstitches http://ift.tt/2hRgo5X LetsNotMeet

Father Of Mine LetsNotMeet

Been lurking and posting sometimes in here the last couple of weeks and seen a few stories that reminded me of my own and thought I'd share. I read the description several times and questioned, "Is this creepy?" But honestly, in my experience, it has been nothing short of terrifying. So I'd call him a creepy individual, if not a monster.

My story has been ongoing for decades, and all came to a head roughly seven months ago.

Growing up, I thought I lived in a "normal" household. I had a nuclear family; a mother and a father, and I was an only child. I assumed that everyone's family had a ticking time bomb. I've learned in my (almost) twenty-seven years that I was wrong.

It started with small things, literally crying over a glass of spilled milk. Something didn't go as planned... So things had to get thrown, profanity was screamed around, doors slammed, perhaps even a fist hitting a refrigerator or a wall.

It developed into rides to school going between 50-70 MPH in 25 MPH speed zones. My cries of, "You are going to kill us!" were always met with "That's the plan!"s, etc.

There were times that we (myself and my mother) had to lock ourselves in closets to hide from the chaos occurring in our home. Hearing glass shatter on the door while we cowered in fear.

I can vividly remember this man, who was supposed to be my hero, having wild bouts of rage, which were not limited to: * Driving erratically attempting to start fights with strangers * Going outside butt ass naked burning his belongings * Chasing people with baseball bats down the street just for looking at him wrong Many other things.

Again, I was a child - preteen and this was all I ever knew to be "normal". I thought everyone dealt with this.

Then, back in May of this year, Matthew (my biological father, I don't like to refer to him as Dad any longer. And yes, that's a fake name.) got jealous that I bought my mother (disabled, I won't specify how for privacy purposes) a tablet for Mother's Day, I had every intention of purchasing him one for Father's Day in June, and he was aware of this. (I was raised believing my life was fairly normal and forgiving someone who was toxic and emotionally abusive was "what you did". I seen my mom do it for twenty-six years.)

He, so kindly, was giving the tablet to another relative and I went to set it up for said relative so they could jump right into using it. Unfortunately, for both Matthew and myself, he didn't actually remove his information and, while myself, my children, and my mother were in the next room over from him, I caught him having cyber sex with another woman - a local woman.

There had been infidelity issues in the past and I addressed this with my mother (I'll skip most of this as I know it's just drama and not relevant to the creepy/terror factor).

Fast forward, my mother kicks Matthew out for all obvious reasons. We gather his belongings and let him know they're on the porch. (Neither of us destroyed or harmed them in any way, just sat them outside because she feared what he would do if he came back in the house. And yes, I know, we could have called the police to assist but we assumed it was unnecessary.)

Six hours later, after I've sat all day waiting for him to come (making sure no one stole/damaged it), he shows up to get his stuff and decides it's a good idea to start destroying most of it (expensive) there in the street and tries to bust out my mother's windows on her home (that she rents, no less). The entire time he is screaming at the top of his lungs how we're "bitches" and he "is going to go burn down my mother's best friends homes and kill their families", "catch my car on fire in the driveway", and, one of the more chilling things, he is claiming he is going to come back later to rape and murder my mother before burning the house down with both of them in it.

My mother and I, per what we were used to, were in complete fear and completely shut down in tears, in the fetal position hiding. If it weren't for my (thankfully) large husband being there to give us some sense of comfort, I think we would have become completely unhinged (we basically did.)

I ended up sneaking to a back room and getting a hammer to protect myself the best I could, as I was eight months pregnant with his grandchild, and calling the police telling them what was going on.

He managed to destroy the lock on the door and do some fairly major damage to the house and his property before he finally left, swearing he was going to return later to murder my mother.

After he left, he was sure to send me text messages letting me know there would be lots of blood for me to find and that I could go to my friends for sympathy (since he was going to kill my mother, my best friend.)

Thankfully the police made sure to keep an eye on my mom's house for quite some time afterword and I will always be thankful that my son (six) was not in the house when this occurred because I never want him to experience the things I did my entire life.

There was a complete disregard for the well-being of me, my mother, my son, or my unborn child that day. (He knows I'm a SAH mom and I always have my child-ren with me.)

So Matthew, wherever you are out there... I never want to ever meet again. Twenty-six years was enough.

(Edited because I was trying to fix my formatting.)

Submitted November 30, 2016 at 07:55AM by LiableBible http://ift.tt/2gHwNGJ LetsNotMeet

It's Not Delivery LetsNotMeet

Long-time lurker, first post, you know the drill. I've read so many of these Let's Not Meet posts and didn't even take into account that I could actually post here myself. This happened a year or so ago, so it's not exactly new, but it's a story nonetheless.

I'll preface this by saying I live in an area where encounters that someone could write about here don't really happen that often. I used to like to go on walks in the middle of the night and nothing would happen. I'd see some drunk college students from time to time, but they were mostly harmless. There was no sense of actual danger the entire time.

Across the street from my house is some mom-and-pop appliance store, it isn't very busy but it has two vending machines in front of it. This and its disproportionate parking lot were the only reasons people ever went near there, but every few weeks or so the store would get a delivery so some pickup trucks loaded with dishwashers or refrigerators would park outside for a few hours.

The vending machines were convenient for me, and I'd go over to get a bottle of soda every night to bring to class in the morning. I had been doing this for maybe two weeks at this point. At 1:30, or whenever I would decide to go, there was almost never anyone parked in that lot. Until then, anyway.

Looking out the window, I could see one of the typical white pickups that I'd see there sometimes, but this one didn't have any labels or decoration like the others. Not only that, but no deliveries were scheduled for a while yet. It was parked maybe 40 feet from the machines I was looking for, so I wasn't too worried. That night, I got a soda like usual and went home. I did it a lot more quickly and cautiously, something about this all made me pretty uneasy.

The next night, I got together a little bit of change like usual, just going through the motions. Before I left I remembered why I would have thought twice about it beforehand. I looked outside, and saw the same truck again. Only this time, it was parked one spot closer to the vending machines. I was a little put off, but it was still pretty far away. I was already outside, so I wasn't going back now. I got what I wanted and left immediately.

Finally, I decided to check on the truck before I left. It was parked right next to the machines. I walked outside with a flashlight like I usually would, but I passed on buying a soda. I wanted to see what was up with this truck, so I walked across the street into the parking lot (I was not smart a year ago). This was when I had the bright idea to look in the truck's windows. From a distance, I turned on the flashlight and directed it toward the old pickup. That's when I saw a head quickly duck out of sight.

I was understandably pretty shaken, and I didn't go back out there at night for another few weeks. The truck would continue to park in the same spot for the next couple days, but after that it never came back. Needless to say, I was a lot more careful from then on.

Submitted October 30, 2016 at 01:57AM by EvilRhino229 http://ift.tt/2f0J9dr LetsNotMeet

Scary encounter with HIV/AIDS drug addict guy and his drug addict family LetsNotMeet

Hello guys! Im from VietNam Sorry in advance cause English is not my second launguare

Im a 21 years old male now Many years ago,maybe when i was 7 In my town,im a very special boy cause my mother was the first Vietnamese to marry a Korean So every where i go people seem very kind and always give me candy and ask to eat meal with them One summer,when i was heading to buy some super hero DVD,which only 1km away from my grandfather house

After selecting the DVD i want,i was ready to head back when a elderly 30 years old riding a motorcycle said my name (oh by the time i was in my town there was a Korean drama so people always call me by the name of the main actor) and ask if i want to get a ride back Of course beeing young and stupid,i accepted So i get on and he drove me off,when we were near my grandfather house,he drove pass and ask me to come to his house and have lunch,one again,i accepted

After 5 minutes,we arrive at his house,which look very clean and big (back then any house build with granite stone floors is consider very rich) So we sit down with his wife and two of their teenage son and start to have lunch They bring out some beer cans and ask me if i want to drink some beer,this time i say no cause i cant drink beer So they bring me some coke,but it is a old looking bottle of coke and had it lit already pop off when he bring it from the cupboard,which is wierd cause we always store coke in the refrigerator and it has some white little powder at the bottom (not much but you can clearly see it)

Even young and stupid i still find it to be very very odd and never touch the coke,after the meal the two son ask me if i want to play some Mario on the Nintendo with them, i immediately agree cause i love playing Nintendo

The two son lead my upstairs to a dimly light room,when arrive at the doorways i frozen right on my feets,there was no fucking TV inside,no light,no bed,there is nothing inside the room

I start to fucking panic when i see dozen of syringe on the floor and fly down stair trying to run,but immediately stop by the mother (which is a very thin,like a walking skeleton) and she try to drag me upstairs .I assume that they want to kidnap me and try to sell me to the Chinese across the border I started to kicking and screaming, of course with that skinny body of her,she cant stop me from pushing her downstairs.So i ran out of the house and start to scream on the top of my lung while been chasing by the guy on the motorcycle with a syringe in his hand.

It was the middle of the day so my scream waking up alot of people,they rush out of their house and luckily some young men running toward the guy and kick him flying out of his motorcycle,throw away his syringe and start to shouting repeatedly beat him .

This stupid guy mess with the wrong kid,since my grandfather was an ex-millitary who fighting again the US when he was young and earn alot of respect among the villager so he got beat up good.

But it didnt stop there,his two son rush toward us,their both have a big fucking knife (later i found out it was sword) so some guy pick me up and ran toward my grandfather house,which opposite has a big police station,while the other pick up some metal bar and try to fight them off.

The police has already know what was the fuss about (by some old lady who screaming even more than me ) and a crowd of police arm with baton,pistol,some even with AK-47 ran pass me and start to scream : "Drop the weapon or we will shoot!!!" The two son has already been high by some powder heroine refuse to surrender so they got their hand shot by a marksmen (if stead of sniper we got AK markmen) After that i dont know what happen next because i has already in my mom arm and crying like a little baby

So after that incident,i has never accepted any ride or meals from stranger . Apperantly,his family are both drug addict and drug dealer for years,since he has a big uncle inside the police so he have never been arrested or search, but when he make that worst decision of his life,to try to kidnap a well-known kid who house near the police and get his whole family to live in jail (life sentence) He has already die from HIV/AIDS 5 yeard ago and his family are still in jail

I cant say LetsNotMeet cause they probably dont

*Sorey yet another time for my bad grammars

Submitted September 15, 2016 at 05:45AM by SpookyFun http://ift.tt/2cKiTnA LetsNotMeet

Ho Ho Ho LetsNotMeet

Alright, so I live with my cousin Kenshi. We were both sleeping in the early morning hours of Christmas Eve last year. It was about 3 a.m. when a noise in our apartment woke me up. I walked out into the kitchen to see what it was and I come face to face with a crack head looking bastard in a Santa Claus outfit.

Santa Claus was in my kitchen eating a big ass sandwich and shit from my refrigerator, I asked him what the fuck he was doing and he replied with, "I'm Santa Claus bitch, where's the milk and cookies?". I was pissed at that point so I lunged at him and a fight ensued. The whole time I was fighting the jolly crack head I was yelling for Kenshi to wake up and help me with the situation, but he slept through it all.

The fight lasted a good 5 minutes and I had the upper hand being on top raining down punches. Unfortunately though, he pushed me off and made a break for the open window he broke in from. I attempted to grab his leg, but he grabbed our Christmas tree and beat me unconscious with it. When I came to Santa was gone, along with all our presents. I woke up Kenshi and thanked him for his assistance before calling the police. They took our statement and we actually helped the police find and arrest him the following night. But that's a story for another time.

So to Santa, if you ever get out of prison and wanna meet up again...go easy on the lunch meat bitch, that shit ain't cheap.

Submitted September 13, 2016 at 04:40PM by ErmacJones http://ift.tt/2cC1pME LetsNotMeet

Horror movies saved my life LetsNotMeet

This is my first time ever writing a post on Reddit so if I somehow mess up the formatting here please forgive me. I really don't come to this site at all but after being linked to a story here a few weeks back I've been sucked into reading them and felt compelled to share my own experience.

When I was in 8th grade my parents separated. Basically my mom packed her and I up one night and we moved into my Grandpa's and didn't look back. We ended up living there through my high school years when he died, my parents officially got divorced, my mom remarried and we moved into the city with my stepfather. My grandpa lived on the first floor of the apartment and the owners, an elderly couple who were family to us through marriage, lived on the second floor. The property also had a small "in law cottage" out in the back where my uncle lived.

For some reason that I will never understand there was no lock to get into the actual building if you entered through the back.

The back door opened into a landing where there was a locked (and dead-bolted) door to our apartment and then two sets of stairs. One led up to the (also locked and dead-bolted) door of the second floor apartment and the other led down to the basement where there was also no lock. Our apartment could also be entered from the front of the building but in order to access the second floor apartment or the basement you had to go through this landing.

The basement was actually pretty nice and at one point they had started to convert it into its own apartment before the ultimately decided to make the in law cottage instead. So in the basement there was a full kitchen complete with an oven, sink and refrigerator. The washer and dryer which was shared by all of us was also in the basement as well as just some general storage stuff. The basement was entirely open except for a back room that was full of storage. It had one of those kind of swinging saloon type doors where you can see above and beneath them. The storage area was longer than it was deep so you couldn't really see anything much behind the doors aside from shelves, you had to walk in them and turn to really see the room.

One night when I was in high school, I think I was 15 at the time, after taking a shower I saw that the laundry bin in the bathroom was pretty full so I grabbed a ton of laundry and headed down towards the basement. It was pretty late at night but I figured I would at least get it started and move some things over in the morning. I tossed everything onto the ground and started sorting out colors when I got hit with a horrible feeling in my gut. The basement was not at all a creepy basement. It was well lit and pretty welcoming with the kitchen and everything but for reasons that I can't explain something just started to feel wrong. Anyone who has ever been hit with the feeling that they were being watched knows exactly what I'm talking about. I don't know how or why it came over me but it was something that I couldn't shake and I found myself looking over to the saloon doors and the only part of the basement that I couldn't see in its entirety.

I don't know why, maybe to just assure myself I was being a big baby, I started to walk towards the back room but stopped myself just as I reached out towards the swinging doors. I've been a horror fan for as long as I can remember and had seen more horror movies than I could count and I knew that if that was a movie I would be calling myself a dumbass and saying not to go into that back room. I quickly snapped my hand back and ran up the stairs, leaving all the clothes behind, and into our apartment where I locked the doors and immediately told my mom that I had just had the worst feeling in the basement and that I was super creeped out.

Despite me not being the type of person that scares easily she basically rolled her eyes at me and told me to go to bed. I ended up doing as I was told though it took me a bit to shake the feeling and finally fall asleep.

Later that night my bladder woke me up and I stumbled out of my room to go to the bathroom. I didn't turn any of the lights on as I started making my way towards the bathroom because it usually woke up my grandpa and I didn't want to bother him. When I got closer to the bathroom I noticed my mom standing in the doorway of her bedroom and something looked off and it took me a moment to realize that she was clutching the phone. She then noticed me and whispered to me to get against the wall which I did without hesitation. It took a few moments for the grogginess to wear off and my eyes to adjust to the darkness before I could see what she did.

My mom's bedroom was immediately off of the kitchen. The kitchen was where the back door that led to the landing and the basement was located.

The door had a tiny window up top with a small but thick curtain. It was thin enough that you could see that someone was outside of the door but thick enough to not be able to make out any of the features of the person on the other side. But there was someone on the other side of the door and every now and then the doorknob would move and you could hear this scratching sound was on the other side.

I have never been so afraid in my entire life.

I'm not sure how I managed to do what I did next, it was like someone else had taken control over me entirely. I slid down against the wall that I was clinging too and started to crawl against it in the darkness towards the kitchen. My mom looked petrified watching back and forth between me and the back door. She kept whispering for me to stop and go back but I kept moving forward, low and against the wall, towards the counter where I carefully grabbed a butcher knife. I was shaking the whole time I moved with the knife in my hand on the ground next to the fridge which was next to the door the man was trying to get into. I had this horrible feeling that I was going to be killed but if I was I wasn't going to go down without a fight.

It felt like I sat there forever in the darkness next to the door with my mom hiding in the bedroom doorway across from me... just waiting... but it was only for a few minutes. My mom had already called 911 before I had woken up and stumbled my way towards the bathroom. The lights from approaching squad cars soon filled the kitchen and from the other side of the door I could hear a sudden clamoring and commotion and the slam of the back screen bursting open as the would be assailant took off running.

It was around 3 am when this happened so it was completely dark outside and we lived right by some train tracks and very thick bushes and trees that made it easy for the man to escape the cop that pursued him.

The police came in and took statements from my mom and I. My grandpa, who was partially deaf, had managed to sleep through almost the entire thing until the police came through to search the apartment and make sure that we were okay.

The outside of the door and the doorknob were both covered in deep scratches like someone had been going at it with a knife trying to figure out how to get in but that wasn't the most horrifying part to me. That was reserved for the basement.

The clothes that I had brought down were not where I had left them and they had been thrown about and disheveled and the back room, the one with the swinging door that I had stopped myself from going in? The boxes that were out of view had also been thrown about, all opened, obviously gone through with some things missing and there were some wrappers from food on the floor. He had been down there looking for something to steal. He was down there when I went down to do laundry. I had almost walked into that room and based on what we had seen on the door he had a knife.

To this day I can't help but find myself sometimes thinking about what would have happened if I walked into that room.

Submitted August 20, 2016 at 02:35AM by vehiclesshockme http://ift.tt/2boCCXy LetsNotMeet

Mr. Heckles, the way-too-helpful neghbor LetsNotMeet

Hey all! So this next encounter happened a little while after the bakery incident. As to which encounter is creepier, well, this one always makes me more uncomfortable because of how close to home it hit. At least creepy bakery guy never got to where i lived.

So, to set the stage: i’m dicking around, trying to figure out what i want to do in life. My uncle has this shitty little one-bedroom house in a cul-de-sac he lets me stay in for basically a pittance in rent. Me with my shitty little retail job has never heard anything better, so i move in there.

Literally the first ten minutes i’m there, creep#2 pops out of his house one over and across from mine. Think Mr. Heckles from Friends but tan and bald on top. I got to the house first in my truck because i want to coordinate my male cousins and brother in the u-haul, and i guess an unaccompanied female was just too much for this guy to resist.

He started talking before he was all the way across the street, just this constant stream of talk that kind of runs into itself. I think he was talking about the people that lived in the neighborhood before. Anyway, he goes off on this long rant about how the people who lived in the house before me bred pitbulls and let them tear up the lawn, and how he worked with the owner to help him re-seed the yard. I manage not to laugh as i tell him the owner(my uncle) had been the previous tenant, owned one beagle, and that the lawn had never been torn up. I was kinda curious as to how he’d react. The guy just blinked and gave his head this weird little sideways shake and went off on another tangent. That would become all too familiar to me in the coming months, the guy would never admit to a lie, just start off on a new one.

Anyway, at that point, my crew showed up and we did some righteous moving. I noticed Heckles popped back into his house as soon as males showed up, something that would also become very familiar to me in the coming months.

Heckles would never knock on my door to see if i was in, he would stand at my front window with his face right up against the glass and his hands around his face. Creepy. Anytime i was out and unacompanied, he would whip out of his house and come over to me, talking constantly. It was more annoying than scary at this point, the dude just had an idea that i was this young, naive girl that needed his advice. Problem was, i wasn’t, and what’s more his advice was always wrong. He would tell me things like refrigerator bulbs couldn’t be replaced, so he would help me remove the back paneling on my refrigerator and swap it out. Or he would tell me to do flat-out illegal things, like pour motor oil down the drain.

Well, about the time i got back together with my on-again, off-again guy friend, that’s when it took a turn for the creepy. The dude turned from advice to complaints(he’d show up at nine at night complaining my dog was barking and i’d be like wtf? What dog?) and i started finding all these little things amiss around the house. My outside faucet would be on when i went out in the morning. My mail would “accidentally” wind up at his place, even though it had not happened even once before. Once i nearly shit myself when i came back home from work and found the front door unlocked. Nothing was missing, but all my couch cushions were rearranged and there was a glass in my dish drainer that wasn’t there when i left.(thank god he didn’t steal my underwear) When i was outside with a man, even if it was one of my relatives, Heckles would sit on his porch and glare.

The last straw was when he slashed my tire.

I have no idea what set this tantrum off, i guess it was because my boyfriend spent the night that night? He usually didn’t, but i had a bad case of the horns and suddenly my twin mattress wasn’t too narrow for two people. When i stepped out for work the next morning, i noticed my truck was at a distinct angle. Before i even got all the way to the truck, Heckles was out of his house and legging it fast over to my house.

He was trying to tell me about a girl he used to knew had her tires slashed the exact same way. That’s about all i could extract from it. I was at the end of my patience and was like, fucker, I know it was you! He blinked and did a head shake and started off on telling me how to change a tire. I yelled at him that i wasn’t a fucking infant, i knew how to change the tire on my own goddamn car. Well, bf heard the yelling and came out, so Heckles scurried back to his burrow. I called my uncle after letting work know i had to miss a day, because i wanted out of that place. My uncle told me to hang on, and not less than an hour later he was over with his tallest son.

My uncle wanted to talk to the guy directly (note: never do this) and get him to back off. He had looked up the house renter and, surprise surprise surprise, it wasn’t Heckles. My uncle had the idea that if he threatened him with eviction(again, not a good idea) he would back off.

So my uncle made a big show of walking over there and knocking on the door. No dice. He hollered at me to call the cops. All bluff, he wasn’t going to let the cops in on something as juicy as this.

Heckles finally opened the door and asked what he wanted, totally innocently.

My uncle said “you’re not the renter here, I looked it up.”

Heckles looked down at the ground and his reaction still blows me away: “please don’t tell anybody.”

So, as it turned out, Heckles had known the guy renting the house since before he went in the mental hospital. You heard that right, mental hospital. Heckles got out and his family had cut contact, so he decided to hit the guy up for a place to stay. Turns out the guy had a stroke at some point and wound up in the hospital. So Heckles was basically squatting in the place.

Well, when my uncle was done, the guy never went near me again. I know he got results, but i still wish i would’ve called the cops, because for all i know Heckles is still out there somewhere, unmedicated and waiting for the next stalking target.

Submitted August 04, 2016 at 02:54AM by jillojello99 http://ift.tt/2aviFgk LetsNotMeet

I pucked up LetsNotMeet

For you guys to understand what happened, I think I may let you know I’m female and I’m eighteen. My name’s Rosie.

Me and my sister were home alone that night. My parents usually let her in my care but only daytime. At night we rarely were alone. See, I live in a small apartment (that only has two rooms, one living room and one kitchen) somewhere in the world amid all the small apartments that exists (I’m not sure if I should give you tips of where I live, so, l won’t; and to soften that I’ll just make funny smartass comments), and the street where it is located is empty all the time, except for one or two residents walking for their safe home.

During the day, we (my father, mother, sister and I) are not threatened by the thought of being robbed, being assaulted, raped or even being killed. But when the moon shows up we sometimes can’t sleep – some time ago, the rumors of some guy climbing windows and entering apartments scared the shit out of us, and it was still pretty much present in our minds.

So… you can imagine that me and my sister were a little bit concerned about that, but we just chose not to listen to that part of our heads and started doing other things – use the computer, watch some TV, dance (we love to dance by ourselves watching youtube tutorials) and play games. You know, the usual stuff.

About 9 pm she was at our room and I was in the living room, watching something on youtube and just navigating online. I must say English is not my native language, so I’m sorry if I make too much mistakes. My father introduced me to English when I was little and I was so passionate about it that I made my life mission to learn as much as possible and practice as much as I could. Anyway, English may not be my native language but I do love to write in both of them. That being put, I was reading about tips to write well or improve your writing when the intercom rang. At first, I wasn’t scared at all; indeed, I was really pissed of by the fact it was 9 pm and someone was calling us, probably by mistake or just a Jehovah’s witness. I answers “Yes?” and the person didn’t respond back.

“Hello? Is someone there?”, I insisted, the angry being replaced by a tiny feeling of terror. “I’m going to hang up”, I again said, and just when I was about to take the intercom away of my ear I heard a man’s voice saying “Don’t”. The male’s voice was so deep and intense it got me paralyzed. I just stood there for two seconds, appreciating his voice like it was something really beautiful – and somehow it was --, until I got the imaginary balls to say “Who is this?”. He answers me with a laugh and silence took place. While I got confused, I was imagining (don’t know why) his face with a sadistic smile on it. The image gave me shivers. Bad shivers. “I really need to know who is this, otherwise I’m gonna hang up”, I said, mentally wondering why I haven’t done it yet. “My name is not important, miss. What is precisely essential is you. You will open this door right now and I’m gonna go upstairs and we will chat”. More shivers.

“I won’t open anything for you. And you better get out of here, my parents are here and we will call the police if you continue to disturb us” My voice failed a bit and the man laughed again, probably thinking I was and idiot for saying that. I’m fucked, a thousand times fucked. I just signed my passport to hell, and my sister’s to heaven.

“Girl, you think I’m joking? I’m not, I can guarantee. Don’t fuck with me. Open the door” I decided I was talking with him for too long, and it was time to hang up. And I did it.

I live on the first floor. We can hear all that happens down the lobby and all that happens with our neighbors (all of them, from floor one to floor three), and this particular thought brought me peace.

I started hearing slight knocks that quickly turned into hard punches to the first glass door downstairs. I locked all the locks (redundant, I know, but I couldn’t find other words to describe it) my door had and picked up my dog, delivered it to my sister and told her to stay quiet and lock the door. “If you can” I added “Push this furniture to the door. Block the door with it” and she nodded, scared. “What’s happening?”, she asked me. “I don’t have the time to tell you now. Call our parents and stay here”. She did what I asked her to do and I went to the living room again, turning all the lights off and standing in front of the door, looking through peephole.

. I wasn’t seeing anything but I continued to hear the punches. At some point, the punched ceased and, again, silence took place. I continued quiet – I always had that response to fear. I stay quiet and don’t make a noise, thinking it may be my best chance to survive. Fortunately, my sister were doing the same thing.

I think five minutes passed until I heard a loud explosion. Okay, it was not an “explosion”, but it sound like one. It was a burst, certainly. I looked through the peephole again and saw the lights at the lobby switch on. “Fuck”, I thought with myself, “I should’ve blocked the main door with the couch. I am making mistakes that could be avoided”.

Two seconds after that I saw the man standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking at my door, but it felt more like he was looking for me. He started climbing so slowly, as if he was acting in slow motion. The panic shows up and, before I even noticed, I run and start pushing the couch to the door. The distance wasn’t long. I climb the sofa and look again. He is smiling, looking at the door, now at the top of the stairs. I search for something sharp enough to injure me and my sister on his hands and I don’t find it.

The air stuck on my lungs finds their way out and my heart start pumping normal again. But he’s still there, looking at my soul with his dissimulate smile and his head turned to the side a little. It resembled me a dog when it finds something it can’t comprehend – a very nervous and creepy dog. I search my pocket for my phone and text my parents. “Please, come home. There’s a creepy guy in front of our door. I can’t get rid of him”.

”. I waited for the reply to arrive watching every move of the guy. He wasn’t moving, but I had to keep looking. I had to keep surveilling. Against my will, but certain we needed help, I decided to call my neighbor, two old ladies who lived next to me. They were adorable.

I went to the kitchen, grabbed the intercom and called them. They didn’t answer me. I was starting to be afraid again, but decided to keep the fear aside. I found again my way to the living room and looked again into the peephole. He wasn’t there anymore. The fear was resurging from my guts and it left a bitter taste in my tongue.

What would I do? What should I do? I was home, alone, with my young sister. It was my duty to protect her. I couldn’t let some stranger enter, I couldn’t be that afraid. If I let the fear take control of me, I would be paralyzed and, soon, dead. Lost in my own incompetence, I remember that was another door in my apartment, the kitchen’s door. I went there and looked.

. The guy was standing there, looking at the external kind of gate, looked by a padlock. I breathed, relieved, because there was a padlock there. The guy joined his fingers as in a punch and hit the padlock, breaking it.

After that, everything’s a blur. I only remember glances: me pushing the refrigerator to in front of the door, me screaming for help, me against the refrigerator, feeling him kicking the door. I don’t know how we got out of this situation, I really don’t. But we did it – my sister’s okay, our parents refuse themselves to let us alone, and I have to see my psych to get rid of those horrible moments.

Submitted August 01, 2016 at 01:29AM by obscurme http://ift.tt/2amYilF LetsNotMeet