The Uninvited Stranger

This story happened to my mother back when she was just 14 years old.

From this point on, I will continue the story exactly how my mother told it to me:

At the time, my parents, my sister, and I were in the process of moving across the country, and when this incident occurred we were just days away from leaving our old home for our new one. This meant that just about everything we owned had already been packed and shipped off to the new house, so we ended up spending our final few nights curled up in sleeping bags on the floor.

My sister Roxanne and I were sleeping together in one bedroom while our parents slept across the hall in another. It was during the summer, and since we didn’t have air conditioning at the time, we would regularly leave our bedroom window cracked open in order to relieve some the stuffiness that filled the house during those months. Our house was a single story, and our bedroom faced the front yard. You might be thinking that this wasn’t a very wise decision given the circumstances, but we spent many nights before this the exact same way and never once had a problem. Not until this horrifying encounter.

I recall it was somewhere around 1 A.M. when I was suddenly jolted from my slumber. I was utterly confused as to just what had woken me, so I laid still and silent while slowly scanning my surroundings. We lived in a fairly rural neighborhood at the time, so this meant that there was hardly any light pollution outside nor any street lights to illuminate the inside of our bedroom. This made it nearly impossible to see anything clearly as it was almost totally pitch black. I remember feeling that something was off, the air just felt wrong somehow. That was when I glanced up towards the window and noticed it was now wide open.

Though I was sensing something wasn’t right, in my groggy state of mind seeing this only confused me. As I lay there trying to make sense of it, my heart suddenly seized in my chest when I heard the very clique sound of one of our bedroom’s floorboards creaking from a change in pressure. For a split second I was in a total panic until it suddenly hit me that this was probably Roxanne screwing with me. You see, she and I were always pranking one another growing up, and pulling a stunt like trying to scare the crap out of me in the middle of the night was definitely something she would enjoy doing. So I decided to foil her plans by catching her in the act. I ever so slowly made my way out of my sleeping bag and over to the wall with the light switch. After feeling around for a minute I finally located it and without any hesitation, I flipped on the light.

I couldn’t tell you then and I can’t tell you now what it was I was experiencing at this moment, but if I had to put it into words I would say that I was immediately flooded with complete and utter terror at what was in front of me. There, about 6 feet away, was an absolute mountain of a man. He was over 6’ and had to have been more than 200 lbs. The stranger was dressed from head to toe in black clothing, and was kneeling over Roxanne with his arms outstretched and hovering above her looking as if he were ready to strike any second… all while she lay there totally unaware of his presence. But the second that light filled the room, he instantly snapped his head up in my direction, his attention now fixed firmly on me as I stood there completely petrified.

I hardly had any time to react, because once his eyes fell on me he was immediately on his feet and lunging at me. The man slammed me against the wall with such force that it nearly knocked the wind out of my lungs, but thankfully the massive amount of adrenaline that had surged into my veins kept me capable of screaming my damn head off. He began aggressively ripping and tearing at my nightgown in an attempt to remove it, all while my sister sat up and began shrieking as well.

The man didn’t get very far with this before the bedroom door flew open and my father came charging into the room with my mom following close behind. He charged the man who was then forced to release his grasp on me, while my dad then attempted to subdue him. Unfortunately, the intruder was a bit larger than my father, and after several intense minutes of the two of them struggling, Dad was slammed against the wall hard… knocking him unconscious.

The moment he fell to the floor, my mother sprang into action. The intruder didn’t even see it coming when she rushed up behind him and jumped onto his massive back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and began digging her rather long finger nails into the skin of his neck while simultaneously biting his shoulder as hard as she possibly could and locking her jaw into place. I swear that had to have been what she did, because it was unbelievable how long and how well she stayed latched onto this creepy stranger as he howled in pain and began flailing his body in circles, ramming himself into the walls around him as well as slamming his body weight on top of my mom in an attempt to get her to let go, but he failed repeatedly as she continued to hold on. The entire time Roxanne and I were huddled in the corner of the room crying and absolutely terrified.

It’s crazy how when you’re experiencing something traumatic, time seems to stand still. This encounter felt like it lasted for an eternity, when it reality it was probably only minutes. Eventually, the man was able to flip Mom off of his back before promptly and clumsily stumbling back out of the window he likely entered through.

This was obviously long before cell phones, and because we were so close to moving we no longer had an active telephone line. So my mother ran to the neighbors’ house to call the police.

In the end, we recovered from our violent encounter with the dangerous stranger. Luckily, the man was caught not too long following the intrusion. It’s so amazing to know that my very mellow, down to earth parents took on a monster of a man so many years ago, and ultimately won the battle. I’m not sure why he didn’t have a weapon with him, but I’m very grateful for that, because if he had, I might not be here today.

Midnight Laughter

I live in Northern Wisconsin, where most of my family calls home. Except for my Father’s side of the family. They live in the middle of Minnesota, almost a 3 hour drive away from us. First and foremost, my family, especially my Father’s side, is very religious. Which is a large reason of why they never believe my odd experiences. I have never been the favored child either, always the clumsy and outcasted one. The one with the wild imagination. Two of the only family members around my age are my cousins, R and S. (For their privacy I will refer to them as their first initials). R is 9 months older than me, but always tries to act like I am the baby cousin. S is around 2 years older than me. We have always been close, when we were little we would take our Grandma’s hat pins, go around in a circle to each pick one, and then spill a secret to eachother, but recently we have been growing apart. It doesn’t help that I live so far away, or that I am having troubles with anxiety and depression. But back then, we were all attached by the hip.

The story begins at my Grandparent’s, with R and I begging to have a sleepover, they refused because she had church the next day. But our constant nagging and the thought of me not being able to spend time with her guilted our parents into letting me spend the night. Soon S arrived also, I was excited because I haven’t seen them in a very long time, and I had missed them. R’s house was a big one. There were 4 floors, including the basement. The main floor, with the kitchen and living room, upstairs with her parent’s room and two of her younger sister’s room along with the bathroom, downstairs with R’s and her other sister’s room, and finally the basement with its dark atmosphere, cold cement floors, and lots of closets. When we got settled in, i took a look around her room. Raggedy Ann dolls covered her shelves, normal for her but unsettling for me.

We were up for a while, talking and giggling. Then we soon fell asleep. I had a night terror about bugs crawling over me, ladybugs and ants. I woke up seeing them covering the bed with their squirming 6 legged bodies. I panicked but didnt want to wake my cousins up. Soon my eyes adjusted, and they disappeared. I was too tired to question what had just happened, so I went back to sleep. Suddenly, after what felt like seconds, I woke back up. I looked around, it was pitch black. Then, by movements my cousins made, I realized we were all awake. S and I were wide awake, feeling unsettled, but R was groggy and ready to go back to sleep, so she turned to face the closet. I looked out her open door and I swear i saw a faint glowing blue light coming from the top of the stairs. I told myself it probably wasn’t that late, so R’s parents were still up watching T.V.

After what felt like hours, we just sat in bed, unable to sleep. Then I heard this low maniacal laughter coming from upstairs. S’s eyes met mine. We sat there in silence for a few moments. “Di- Did you hear that too?” I whispered. She nodded slowly, with her eyes wide open. “It could just be R’s parents watching a movie.” I proposed. The possibility of that increased as I thought about it. “Should we go check?” S replied. I nodded. It took us a couple tries to get R out of bed. But I still wasn’t ready for the walk through the dark to the upstairs, but I had to. I had to prove it was her parents, because there must be a reasonable answer to what S and I heard. We made our way upstairs, and I felt a pang of horror when I saw the dark livingroom with the empty couches. We ran upstairs waking up R’s parents, asking them if they were up and what we learned scared me even more than I could possibly think of. R’s parents were dead asleep. S and I begged for R’s father to look around the house, and thats what he did. No unlocked windows or doors, no sign of any intruders. But that was impossible, I had heard it! S had heard it too! S and I looked at each other in horror. Then we were told to go back to sleep. We obliged, and even though R spept like a rock, S and I got no sleep that night.

I still dont know why I had that night terror, or what laughed in the middle of the night. I have never had a night terror before or since then. We have never brought it up since.

Alone at Night

Alone at Night from LetsNotMeet

This is the original reddit thread where I wrote the story; this is a slightly edited-for-grammar version.

I was around 16 when this happened, so 12 or so years ago. I’d just gotten my license and had come back to my mother’s house to work on a paper because her computer was faster than my father’s. It was getting a bit late, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so I wasn’t nervous one way or the other. I took a break from the paper and headed to the main bathroom, which was at the back of the house. The wall parallel to the door faced the back yard.

It has a small window in it, and just as I was about to turn on the lights, I heard a noise. Not especially close, or loud, but it was coming from somewhere in the back yard, closer to the house than the small patch of dense trees that acted as kind of a buffer between the street my house was on and the one that runs parallel to it

. I went to the window and looked out, at first seeing nothing, but then a shape ran across the yard, which I didn’t think too much of at first because I lived in a pretty typical suburban area and my house borders two streets. It wouldn’t be uncommon for kids to cut through my unfenced backyard to get to the other street. But even though I rationalized what it could be in my head, I was still a bit uneasy. I was home alone, and neither parent would be home soon (both parents worked 2nd shift in aerospace companies), which left me a little bit paranoid.

I went back to the living room, which had a huge bay window facing the front yard and a glass door to the back yard. For a few minutes, I heard nothing else, so I started to relax. But then, I heard soft noises coming from near the back door. Like someone stepping really quietly, trying not to make a sound.

Cue the adrenaline. I called my dad and told him as softly as I could what was going on. Part of me felt like I was overreacting, but the other part just knew something was off. He had someone else call the police and stayed on the line with me as I got my keys and made my way to the opposite side of the house, where the driveway and my car was. He didn’t want me leaving the house, really, but there was no way I was staying, so the plan was to get to him, then drive back together to meet the police. I can’t describe how badly I wanted to get out of that house. The worst thing that I could do, it seemed to me, was wait inside until the police got there or whomever was outside decided to come in.

When I went to get into my car, my whole body was focused on just unlocking and starting it, then tearing the hell out of my driveway. Thankfully, no horror movie cliches kept the engine from turning.

My dad’s company was a short drive away, and when I got to him and we went back to the house, we were met by the police…who had found the house lit up. Every light in every room on. Every door, even to the attic and the basement, open. But nothing was taken or touched, which to me is the scary part; the fact that whoever it was wanted to fuck with my head, or my mother’s, since it was her house. It just scared me, and I never slept well in my mother’s house after that. I was more than a bit relieved when she moved.

I Was Almost in a School Shooting

To start, I’d like to give a little description of my where my story took place. I lived in a southwestern Missouri town with the typical middle-of-nowhere feel. The town itself had a population of only 2,000, and it was just big enough to have its own school district. There were about 200 kids total from pre-K to 12th, and we all shared the same campus. The school was divided into high school, junior high, and elementary wings.

I was in junior high at the time. The building that housed us was old and falling apart. It looked as if someone cut a straight hallway out from the main campus and built a breezeway between them. Because of that separation, it was closer to the street than the other wings.

Specifically, I was social studies when the headache-inducing doorbell sound started. We all had been through intruder drills before. Us students packed into the corner and shut off the lights, while the teacher locked the door. She hushed us as we all sat bored and annoyed on the floor. We were, admittedly, being loud.

It took probably 15 minutes of continuous dinging for the idea to sink into our little 13-year-old minds. This was not a drill. After that, most of us were silent, and even the teacher hunkered down with us away from the door.
I whispered to my friend as she clung to me, “we are going to die.” To that, she started crying. I don’t know why I said it. It was as if I was in a trance.

30 minutes in, we heard distant popping which faded into nothing. The clump of us shook together. I recall this nasty emptiness in my stomach. The chime of the intruder alarm seemed as far away as the pops, though the speaker hung overhead. We could do nothing but wait.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the voice of the principal came over the loud speaker. “Please remain in you class rooms,” and that was all.

High off of existence, us kids sat on the desks laughing loudly and talking nonstop. The teacher abandoned her lesson and rested behind her desk. I imagine she felt the same relief as we did. It took a little over an hour, but the school called all the parents who then came and picked up their children.

We didn’t realize at the time how close we came to dying. While we were studying state history, a shooter had been on his way to the school to kill as many people as he could.
He stopped his truck on the road about a block away from the junior high. He was in the process of removing all his weapons when a good samaritan stopped to see if he was having car trouble. The good samaritan was shot from point blank range and died at the scene. The gunshots quickly alerted police. They were able to hold the shooter at a standoff until an exchange of fire left the shooter and one officer dead. If that good samaritan hadn’t died, the shooter likely would have made it to the school.

In the end, three people died that day. It’s sad, but I’m thankful. There are no happy endings in that evil, cursed town, but there are lucky ones. That day all of us kids got lucky.