Penny Pincher

So, this is a real-life monster I’ve come across recently, but for the longest time I was too ashamed to share it. Like, “I’ll-pee-in-my-boxers” kind of ashamed, because it frightened me, but others would only laugh. My psychologist tells me I need closure. So, here it goes…

I was at the new One World Trade Center Observatory, up there on the 102nd floor with all the other tourists, getting some fancy skyline pictures for my gym locker. That was when I noticed the radical little machine nearby. You put in an American dollar bill, and out pops a squashed copper penny with an engraving of the World Trade Center pressed into it. Tell me that ain’t psychedelic, man! So, I put in a dollar bill, and out oozed my fresh new penny, still warm with newness.

But wait… a dollar for a PENNY!? What the actual hell!? I mean, don’t get me wrong, undeniably it’s cool – it’s got a giant skyscraper pancaked into it for crying out loud – but that evil machine ate a whole dollar! And it was like an addiction. That penny-pinching monster wanted me to collect all eight WTC souvenir pennies, so in went seven more dollar bills to get the whole collection… of EIGHT PENNIES. Lord send me an angel, I did it. I fed the penny pincher. And the tour guides were just nodding their heads like, “oh yeah baby… we know… we know.” Spine-chilling as I write it.

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Hands across american elevators

We were visiting New York from Canada during our time off from school .There were three of us staying in a well-known hotel in Times Square. The hotel has floors for regular guests as well as several floors for their snobby “preferred” guests. As we did not feel safe going out at night we stayed in the hotel, which was kind of boring.
One night while we were there 2 of us went to walk around in the hotel. We started riding the elevators to random floors to kill time. At one point we accidentally got into the “preferred” people elevator, and could smell the stench of the rich. It smelled like the distinct odour of the wealthiest portion of Wall Street. A menacing woman gave us an offensive look, asking if we were “going up”. We could tell she didn’t want us there, but this may have been embarrassment due to her rancid stink of cash.
We went up to the toppest top floor of our hotel and we were traumatized to discover that we had inadvertently made it to the snobbiest snob floor by mistake. Just for a second we felt a feeling of snobbishness overcome us, and immediately went back to another elevator to return to the hobo floors. When we got into the elevator a woman was taking photos of the elevator door with a disgusted expression. Soon after she got off we discovered the horror of American hotels. We saw two hand prints in an explicit position with white “crud” dried all around the finger marks. “Oh my god, someone was screwing the elevator”

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Sisters of Rome

This all happened in the summer of 2016. At this time, I was 14. I have ten siblings, but when this happened, I only had eight. Only three out of the eight of my siblings were with me because my younger sister, younger brother, older brother, my dad, and I were on a trip to Oregon. In Oregon, my dad was on a business trip. When everything happened, my dad was at work and my older brother, Damien, was babysitting us. Damien was seventeen, and my other two younger siblings, Jenna and Coddy, were only ten.

So, I was sitting on the sofa in our hotel room. We had just arrived in Oregon about two days before. I was texting a couple of friends from New York, where I live. I laughed pretty loudly and Damien told me to shut up. I said sorry and we continued to mess around. At around 7:oo, Jenna came running up to me and kept annoying me about whether or not she could have a cookie. I just told her no every time she asked. It was kind of late and I didn’t want her staying up all night because she was hyper on sugar. Eventually, Jenna gave up and headed to Damien’s room, probably to go bug him about it. A few moments later, Damien came bursting out and had a very angry look on his face. I sat up and set my phone down next to me on the couch. I asked him what was wrong and his exact words back to me were, “Emily, are you serious? What the hell? Why’d you do that to Jenny?” I had no idea what he was talking about of course, so I just gave him a confused look. He rolled his eyes and decided to explain himself, “Jenna said you whispered in her ear and said something creepy,” once again I was confused. Jenna spoke out. Now, I don’t remember exactly what SHE said, but I remember the main idea of it. Jenna said something along the lines of, “I’m sure it was a girl, and I’m the only girl other than Emily!” I, Emily, just took it as a little lie she told to either creep us out or get me in trouble by Damien. We all went to bed, probably assuming the same thing. I explained and promised to Damien that I didn’t do it, and I really had no reason to lie to him, he knew that. He wouldn’t get very mad at me if I did, might have laughed at it even.

The next morning, there was a knock at the door. Now, it was like 8:00 am and it was room service. The woman that came in was in her late 30s, at least she looked that way. Since my dad was already at work and Damien was still asleep, I was the one to open the door. I opened it and invited her in. She thanked me and began bringing in her cart thing. I had a lot of experience for hotels since my dad traveled a lot and usually brought me with him, so I knew dad had probably ordered all of us breakfast and sent it in. As soon as the woman entered my and Jenna’s room, she just stopped at the end of the bed and scurried to the corner of the room. She covered her eyes and started begging for mercy. Jenna sat on the bed with wide eyes. We both looked at each other and then looked back at the woman. I approached her, thinking maybe she was just a little mentally unstable, “Hey, are you alright?” I asked her. She cowered, trying to back away even further. She uncovered her eyes, took one more glance at us, then screamed, “Please! Please, don’t hurt me! I had no idea my sins would be so dreadful! You must forgive me, my beautiful lady!” the woman made absolutely no sense what so ever. I could tell she wasn’t just messing around to weird us out though, she had tears in her eyes. She was genuinely scared. I didn’t know why, or who. I just knew she was scared. I asked the woman why she was so scared and just answered with, “You’re the Sisters of Trepidation! The younger sister, she’s a goddess of light! The older one is the former goddess of light! She performed a sin and is now known as the demon of the dark! Together, they both stop anyone who had done a sin and warns them once and even sometimes kills them the first time!” once again, no sense at all. Nothing that came out of this woman’s mouth made ANY sense. My sister ran over to me hugged me from behind. She was crying and she her voice was barely coherent, “That’s her! That’s who whispered in my ear last night, Emz! She said she was one of the sisters of trepidishion!” she said the word ‘trepidation’ wrong, or maybe it was because she was crying. The woman took one last good look at us and ran out the door.

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Wicked Warning

I was trucking down in the states with my ex. We had traveled cost to cost and had many weird experiences. This is just happened to be one of the more paranormal, instead of just freaky experiences.

New Orleans the beginning of August 2005.

After many attempts, we had finally made it to New Orleans, the home of Voodoo and Mardi Gras. Ever since my brother told me about the grave yards, the Voodoo shops and the other strange things I wanted to go see them. Call it a morbid curiosity or just simply fascination with the macabre. Either way I wanted to go. I heard the mausoleums and headstones are beautiful and the local Lore had me interested. I had just gotten a new 35mm camera I had taken a few photography classes in high school so I wanted to capture the area in the best way I knew how. I know, 35mm was old school even back in 2005, but something about not knowing if shot came out and not having instant gratification made me feel like I was some sort of a real artist.

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Truck Stop Horror

In 2003 I had met a guy that said he would take me on adventures and make my life exciting. Little did I know that the safe world I had grown up with was about to get shattered.

I lived in a small town and had never really traveled outside of my state. Never experienced life in a way that others would. We were kind of sheltered from the big crime and other things that have been happening over the countryside.

So my ( now ex) decided to take me on a journey of being an over the road truck driver.
In a lot of cases this was a great experience there where a lot of fun times and I got to see most of the US. But trucking life is hard, and being on the road 24/7 isn’t easy. Being cooped up in a small truck with someone for that long will cause anyone to become mad, as in crazy- batshit crazy.

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