Transcript
A (0:00)
This episode is brought to you by Jack Daniels. Jack Daniels and music are made for each other. They share a rhythm in the craft of making something timeless while being a part of legendary nights. From backyard jams to sold out arenas, there's a song in every toast. Please drink responsibly. Responsibility.org, jack Daniels and Old no. 7 are registered trademarks. Tennessee whiskey, 40% alcohol by volume. Jack Daniel Distillery, Lynchburg, Tennessee.
B (0:27)
Your teen adjective used to describe an individual whose spirit is unyield, unconstrained, one who navigates life on their own terms, effortlessly. They do not always show up on time, but when they arrive, you notice an individual confident in their contradictions. They know the rules, but behave as if they do not exist. New Teen the new fragrance by Miu Miu defined by you. Foreign.
A (1:08)
Welcome to Other world. I'm your host, Jack Wagner. This episode is about a girl named Sierra. She's from Vancouver island in Canada, which is already a rather spooky, gloomy sort of place. And on top of that, the story takes place during a very unusual time in her life. And I think that's a main reason why it resonated so much with me. Like many teenagers, Sierra was really excited to leave town and start her own life after graduating high school. But not long after moving, her mom's longtime battle with cancer took a turn for the worse. So Ciara had to move back and found herself right back where she started. On top of that, she was back for an incredibly difficult reason. I think anyone who's been through something extremely hard, like facing a terminal illness or losing a loved one, knows that sometimes during that period, life can seem very surreal, almost like the veil has become very thin. And you often might end up asking yourself, are weird things genuinely happening to me more frequently right now? Or am I just kind of imagining things because of what I'm going through? Lots of strange things were happening to Sierra as you're about to hear, especially one particular thing on a night when her and a friend decide to take a walk through a nearby cemetery. This episode is called Ross Bay Cemetery, and you're listening to Otherworld.
B (3:10)
Hello, is this Bobby?
A (3:11)
Yes, it is, at its core, the.
B (3:12)
Science you can't argue with. I'm storied about all of a sudden up in the sky. It's almost frustrating that it's happening. I'm literally, I'm gonna die. Its limbs were just, like, wrong. Everybody moves back into the mind, even if it takes them a minute. My Name's Sierra. I'm 20. I currently live In Montreal, Canada. But I grew up in Victoria, bc, Canada. For most of my childhood kind of was between there and San Clemente, California, but mostly Victoria. I'm like an artist, filmmaker, photographer by hobby, mostly doing art shit in Montreal like the rest of them. I moved to Victoria when I was like 8, 8 years old, so I was still like in elementary school. So like, my memories of California, it's like, oh, it's super. We lived close to the beach. San Clemente is like a small town for Orange county and like pretty idyllic childhood down there like always in the ocean and, you know, it's always warm. Whatever had my friends, a good group of friends. And then we moved to Canada like halfway through the school year. And I remember we moved in with my grandma because my grandma was already living in Victoria and starting school in the middle of the year where like, I went from like, lots of friends and shit to like, being a total loner in the new school. And then totally different vibe of like, the landscape is so different. Usually most of the year is dark and cloudy, rainy, just like a wet cold consistently for like most of the year other than like two summer months. So it was like a very harsh transition, like, of life to being like very sociable, you know, California, baby. To like loner in the dark. Dank. Pnw. Victoria is like a pretty small town. It's the capital of bc, but it's like way smaller than Vancouver. I think the population's like around 90k. Victoria's known as being like a historical town. It has like the oldest Chinatown in the country. There's lore about the whole city like, of like, you know, like early, like 1800s through like the 30s. There's so many stories. It's just like a very historic town and that's why people like to visit it. But it is like, it does have such a colonial look and vibe to it, which I think people think is quaint, but it's very like, at odds with the landscape of like Vancouver island and the Pacific Northwest, I guess, in general, which is just like a rugged coastline with like ancient forests that go on forever. It's like a really kind of rough, intense landscape. And it's very like, charged. Like the land itself is incredibly charged. There's crazy old growth forests where it's like the trees are just so big that you feel like you don't exist. Basically. That's what I like, actually love about it is it's the nature is so overwhelming that you just can disappear almost into the woods and there's so much energy in the forest and of the place that just overwhelms you. It's just crazy. Growing up spending doing all my schooling in bc, obviously I wasn't a total loner the whole time. I made friends and stuff, but I think by the time I graduated I was really. It just already felt really small and I was really over it and I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. And since I still had some family in California, it was like an easy move for me to go down there. And I started working down in LA for a year until my mom's health got worse. My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was like 15. It was kind of like stable for a while and then it wasn't until like a year after I moved back to California that it got worse. So then I moved back home to be closer to her and spend time with her. I mean, obviously like moving back under those circumstances wasn't great and I wasn't happy to be back, you know, in the small town again. But I kind of was like, you know what, Like I'm just going to make the most out of it. When I moved back to Victoria, I didn't want to move back in with my family because I was trying to get out of that dynamic. So I found a couple friends and we found a house downtown. We had not much money, like no credit score, like nothing. So getting a house was not easy, especially in that rental market there, which is insane. So we ended up renting a small two bedroom heritage house. I think it was built in like 1903 and it was, had barely been redone. The wood floor was like black, it was old and very cold. Like you have to be right next to the space theater type of vibe. So it was me and my friend Marnie who like moved in originally. And then the house kind of had this like built on hallway at the very back. Someone added a little hallway with two little shack rooms. Grass would almost grow up through like the floor. And we had two other friends renting out these like little shack rooms at the back to like afford the place because it was not, it was still not cheap even though it was like in a state. The house was like right behind a McDonald's. So we would like hear the like drive through taking orders like all the time and all night. And I feel like I should mention this house was like right off Pandora street, which is kind of the center hub of like tent city and like where just all the unhoused people hang out basically. So the energy there. That part of town is already so different than like your cute little tourist area. So for a lot of reasons, this house was not the coziest place. I moved back to spend more time with my mom. Obviously, I think when I moved back it was stage four breast cancer. So being young and having a mom whose health is declining is incredibly sad because I was very, very close to my mom. Like, we had a great relationship, so it wasn't complicated in that way, but just like really heartbreaking and just really hard to live with. So you can't be in the sadness every day. So you kind of like compartmentalize in your mind. Like, okay, this is this worry and sadness, but I can't always engage with it. And then it just becomes like a part of life, I guess. But this like weird uncertainty always, you know, it's just always there. And you're just like trying to go through your normal life and still make things happen, you know. And as much as like I was still having a fairly normal life, I think that intensity being a part of normal life affected how I perceived life in general. The time was very charged. I think anybody who's experienced a loved one passing away, especially if it's like an extended period, death being a reality, a very close reality in your life just affects how you perceive things. Life just feels very different when you're that close to death. Everything is just like a bit more odd and like uncanny things happen that you're like, this is not normal, like what's happening and you kind of just have to roll with it. You're just more open. You're so vulnerable and raw and close to this like unfathomable thing, thing, which is death, that it's like you don't feel like you are in control of your reality. So you're more open to other things. Maybe like more strange things happening or that you see. Stuff like that usually you wouldn't see or you wouldn't believe. And just like the most bizarre things I think are able to like enter your space and you're able to perceive them because you're just so raw and like cracked open. During this time, weird stuff would happen. For example, I worked at a cafe like down the street. And this woman was showing up to the cafe, like all the time, old, old lady, like hunched over type old. She would never buy anything. She just wanted to like be there. And then she started knocking on our door of our house. And I think the first time I wasn't home and my roommates were like, she's not home. What are you doing? And she just left. And then eventually we had, like, an art show at our house where it was, like, open door, and she came to the show, walked through the house or whatever, and then left. And then at this point, I was, like, noticing her, like, outside my work and stuff. And I was like, oh, this is getting, like, a little bit weird. And then couple weeks go by or whatever. I answer another knock on the door. I answer it, and it's her. And I'm like, why are you following me? Or like, why are you here? She didn't really have anything to say, so I was like, okay, do you want to come have tea? And, like, we can chat because this is really weird. And so she came in and we sat and had tea and. And she was just, like, grilling me on my life and asking me so many personal questions. And I was like, oh, this is weird. And she's asking me if I did magic. And I was like, no, I don't do magic. That's a really weird question. And then so I was trying to get in there and ask her, like, what's your life? Why are you in my house right now? And she had been on the streets for, like, 30 years or something, and it took me asking her so much to get to the bottom of it, but it turns out that I guess I looked a lot like her daughter who had passed away. Something about me like she really, like, glommed onto for that reason. And then after we had that conversation and tea and whatever, then I just never saw her again. Just like, stuff like that was kind of happening all the time. And I think when you're so open to weirdness and the veil is thin, then that type of stuff just happens more often.
