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Hey, this is Dane and this is Scary Stories and Rain. Please join my family and follow this podcast on Spotify or Apple. And if you want the ultimate experience, you can get rid of all of the ads and be entered to win all of my giveaways every month by subscribing for just $2.99 a month. All of the ads gone. Every single giveaway automatically entered. And starting now, today, every Sunday, I'm going to Release the Ultimate Episode 76 to 12 hours long Ultimate Scary Stories for a Rainy Night. Subscriber Exclusive and as a reminder, we are now four months away from my first movie release in theaters. Gale Yellow Brick Road A dark and terrifying reimagining of the wizard of Oz. If you want to check out the first trailer, click the link in the description to this episode and if you're not following my other two podcasts, please go check them out. Scary Stories in Fire and Scary Stories After Dark. The links are in the description. Thank you so much for being here and I really hope you enjoy this episode. In 2002 I was a junior in high school. 11th grade to be precise. At this time, Terence Cook was a junior in high school as well, and for the second time due to being held back. The town that I went to high school in does not have anything to be considered a bad area, but we've got some latchkey keys who live in the trailer park on the other side of the train tracks and that's about as close to a ghetto that we have. Terrence was one of these latchkey kids. I don't know that for sure, but he always seemed like he was and that he had a rough home life at school. Every year when everybody had brand new clothes and backpacks, Terrance showed up in the same worn out hand me downs as the year prior. Sometimes I would walk to school early in the morning and I'd see Terrence stumbling out of the park with a blanket wrapped around him and little branches with leaves in his afro. If ever a fight broke out at school, 90% of the time it was Terrance. He was a real meet me at the flagpole in the parking lot kind of guy. Whenever somebody defecated in the urinal stall or the sink or a teacher's desk, most assuredly it was Terrance who always admitted to it when he would be caught with an excited, crude eating grin on his face. He was that kid who would set off stink bombs in the gym before an assembly. He would streak across the field during our football games and he would pull the Fire alarm at least once a month. Nobody could prove it because nobody was ever caught pulling it. But it went off three times in a day, and the very last one ended up being an actual fire that had started in the center of the football field, burned all the grass on the pitch, and had it not been for the ring of concrete track that rounded our field, that fire would have spread out into the bleachers and beyond. These were the type of fire alarms that if you pulled it, a nasty blue ink would squirt out and get everywhere. So when Terrence was questioned about it, he said nothing. He didn't do it, he claimed. To make matters more difficult, there was no blue ink on his hands or arms, on his person at all. Nothing provable. Faculty and staff alike were stumped. Three different fire alarms were pulled with inky blue streaks on the floor and the walls, and somehow this kid flipped them without getting a drop on himself. When his backpack and his locker were searched by the administration, there was nothing to indicate that he had anything to do with starting the fire. There was just nothing to point at him for committing the crime. It was just right up his alley and the kind of thing that he would do. Terrence never once bothered me. In fact, he never said a word to me in all my years. I saw him bully other kids and boy, we would just get so annoyed. Every day he'd be asking somebody for money or a cigarette or he would ask to come along to go smoke in the creek. I know. He was also supposedly really bad to girls, hitting them, pushing them. Just evil acts inflicted on people for never a good enough reason. There were a few other kids that hung out with Terrance, Ethan and Otho. But for some reason, it always looked to me like they did not care for this kid at all and were in his company. Perhaps because they were scared of what he would do to them. As Terrance had a big mouth and had no qualms about giving you a quick punch to the gut. Many were worried that one day he would graduate from fighting with his fists to stabbing people in the hallway. I think that Ethan and Otho had no genuine liking for Terrence, but kept him around because he was amusing. So yeah, Terrence was a real piece of crap. As I stated earlier, I felt a little bad for him. He seemed embarrassingly poor and grossly neglected and probably some other issues. We all suspected that his dad beat the crap out of him. All we knew about his dad was he just lived in a bottle and was known to yell and scream, which could be Heard all over the trailer park. His mom was supposed to be no better. At lunch, we would have an open campus and we could walk off from the school and go downtown to get burgers or fries or tacos or just anything quick enough to buy and consume in an hour. Poor terrence would have one of those paper cards that the school would hand out where you would get a free lunch from the cafeteria. This food, of course, looked like prison food, and if you were seen eating from one of those, your other classmates would ridicule you. It's just a fact. This led to poor Terrence following people around. My friends and me sometimes. Hey, can I get a dollar? Can I get the rest of that sandwich? You got a cigarette? We'd tell him every different version of no we could think of while while still seemingly polite because we did not want to send terrance off on one of his irrational, violent tirades. Early into the school year, maybe starting in early October, we had the arrival of somebody who would come to be called the pizza lady. From what I recall, she just showed up in the creek one day where there were a couple of picnic tables and benches and set 30 large pizza boxes down. 15 cheese, 15 pepperoni. She sat there and waited and waited, and sure enough, some high school kids snuck down into the creek, smoked, and there she found four high schoolers with the munchies. Hey, guys, she said, I'll charge you a dollar a slice if you're hungry. I remember hearing how those kids ate three or four large pizzas between them, and the words set off like wildfire. You've gotta go see the pizza lady after school. Let's go get a cheap slice. The pizza lady is the bomb. There was no way I wasn't going to check this out. I mean, a dollar for a reasonably sized slice of hot, fresh pizza. Even in 2002, this was a steal of a deal. I wanted to get down there and see the whole operation. So it's the next day and my friends and I get out of class and we smoke on our way down to the creek. When we get down there, there are about 20 high schoolers, maybe more, freshman to senior, all gathered around anxiously waiting. Some were smoking, others were sipping off some bottles. Of course, Terrence was there, just capped on caffeine or something, because I remember how hyper he was, jumping up and down. Pizza, pizza, pizza. He had a large shtick in his hand and was whacking at trees and dirt and even motioning for other kids to get out of the way or he would thwack them, man. It was as if this kid never had a slice of pizza before. When I thought about it a bit more, it's sad because it was probably true. Within 10 minutes, the pizza lady arrived and pulled her car up off the road and onto the side of the creek, got out of her car, walked to the trunk, opened it, and lifted out a pile of pizza boxes. I'll carry those for you if I could get a free slice, Terrence said. Yeah, she said in a monotone whisper. With that, Terrance zipped into the car and began taking out all the pizza boxes and rushing them to the picnic tables. The line started to form, and Terrence was handed a slice of pizza, and he looked rather stoked with himself for not having to wait in line to get the first slice. The pizza lady was interesting. She seemed to lack the ability to be nice or mean. Every day she would park and say, hey, guys, and that's about it. She'd hold out her hand and you'd put the dollar in her hand and take your slice. Every day. It started to get a bit crazy, though. It went from 20 students at what we named Pizza Creek to 40 students within a week. 30 pizza boxes turned into 50. Cars were like sardines in a can on this creek, completely boxing each other in with their stereos blaring. And some kids would bring alcohol and some brought smoke, and we would just smoke in the creek and eat cheap pizza every afternoon. The entirety of the time, the pizza lady hardly spoke, hardly smiled or frowned or even moved. She just kind of stood there smoking, staring off into space, waiting for the pizza to run out, surrounded by teenagers who all of us were smoking and drinking. And all the while, she didn't seem to care. She didn't appear to like it either. I recall it made me nervous, though. I had never smoked in front of an adult before, and in 2002, it was still illegal in California. And it just all seemed so odd to me that a grown woman would stand in a creek with teenagers getting all messed up. And of course, Terrence was there every single day. Terrence was the first to arrive and the last to leave, assisting the pizza lady with the unloading of the pizzas from the car, handing out slices while scoring two free slices a day. It irked us quite a bit. Why were we not allowed the privilege to be a helper for a day? Why should he have gotten all the free pizza? It didn't take us long to figure out that this was not a classroom. She was not a teacher, and she could play favorites if she wanted to. It got to the point though, where Terrence was just so bad he got worse than normal. The whole situation was as if it were his idea to have the pizzas and it was his little side business and oftentimes would not ask but start to demand things and getting very, very physical when he received an answer that he didn't like. The fight outbreaks got to be too much and kids stopped going to Pizza Creek little by little, tapering off one by one. One time. The only time I saw the pizza lady do or say anything much was when she walked up to Terrence, pulled him by the arm away from some kids he was harassing, and said quietly to him, I don't like what you're doing. There was no firmness in her voice, no threat, not much of an emotion whatever it was. I had never seen Terrence hang his head like a sad dog before. He seemed disappointed with himself instead of defensive for the very first time ever. You keep doing that, she continued, quiet as ever, and you're going to get was Thursday, November 7th, and my friends and I decided we would go to Pizza Creek one final time. After that, we would just let all the other kids deal with Terrence's tyrannical reign. However, that day after school getting quite dark quite early, we found Terrance in the creek, the pizza lady with the pies, and a modest line of kids, maybe 10 or so, paying for their slices. Terrence was quiet as a crypt and stared at the ground with docility, the pizza lady stone silent, her hand outstretched, holding a pile of dollar bills, stoked that we could finally enjoy the creek in peace. We just munched away at our pizza slices, smoked a little bit, and sensing the darkness coming upon us fast, we decided to head home. I remember my friends and me gathering our stuff. We were the last ones to be leaving and walking up past the creek to get back to the road, turning back and looking for a reason I knew not. I distinctly saw Terrance staring up at me with a look of loneliness and shame. He seemed lost and scared. I'll never forget that look on his face. He seemed almost as if he desperately wanted to come with us. He did not want to be alone with this woman who was whispering something under her breath that I could not hear. I unfortunately ignored all of this, thinking Terrence had always been a jerk, even if not to me, and that it served him right to be humbled a bit. I didn't notice, of course, that Terrence was not at school the next day, Friday, and After school, I thought that perhaps pizza creek had chilled out. So as a group, my friends and I decided to go out one last time. This was to be the last time for sure. We promised ourselves, well, when we got there after school, no pizza. No pizza lady. No Terrence. And the weekend went by and nobody noticed. Monday night, I guess somebody in the attendance office finally noticed. Something, from what I've heard but cannot confirm, is that the school had not set off any alarm. As Terrence was regularly truant and many times had to spend a week or two in a detention center. His absence wasn't so much of a shock. It's just that usually his absences were verified. The police would often find him and drag him back to school or back to his house. Oftentimes, during class, Terrence would be wandering the halls, placing fireworks in trash cans and just making mayhem. But this time, he was just nowhere. He wasn't at the school. He wasn't in a juvenile detention or the hospital. He wasn't stealing from liquor stores. He wasn't playing with weapons down by the train tracks. Terrence was just gone and nobody knew where. So the administration tried to contact Terrence's parents. The phone number they dialed seemed to be no longer in service. They had the parents address on file and decided immediately to call the police and report a lost child and that the parents probably needed a welfare check. When the police arrived at the house, they found Mrs. Cook with an arm and a sling and some black eyes. Jet skiing was the cause of the injuries. She claimed Mr. Cook was on a bender and smelled strongly of some illegal drug. Confronting Terrence's parents as to Terrence's whereabouts proved fruitless. They had not seen Terrence in over a week. They said they hoped he was in prison. They said that he might as well be in prison since he never came home and they had no clue where he was. Over the next few days, a search team was called out and many from the community joined. We searched the creek, the train tracks, the parks, everything. I went to the park where I saw him stumbling out of the bushes a few times, but never found a trace of him. Terrence just completely vanished. Somehow, the police began coming to the school, where they began to become a constant presence, barging into each classroom and informing us of the situation, questioning the classrooms and imploring us to come forward with any information that could be helpful. When one of the officers explained what needed to be established first was where Terrence was last seen is when it clicked in my head. It must have clicked in my friend Dustin's head too, because his hand shot up into the air saying, we saw him Thursday after school around 4:45 or so. The officer asked, where did you see him? In the creek across the train tracks just a couple blocks away from the school. The officer asked, that creek down there? Pointing in some direction that seemed to imply he understood, then continuing, was he with anybody? Yeah, another kid in my class said, the pizza lady. The pizza lady? Who is the pizza lady? We all looked around at one another before explaining to the officer all about the lady who provided us with cheap delicious food. Does anybody know what her name is? Uh. We all looked at each other again. It was apparent by the look on everybody's face that we were all thinking the same thing. Ugh, crap. No, I don't know her name. Okay. Does anybody happen to know where she lives or where she works? We all looked at each other again. It was apparent by the look on everybody's face that again, we were all thinking the same thing. No, no, no idea. Did she drive a car when she started selling you guys these pizzas? Yeah, yeah, yeah, she did. Okay, good. The officer smiled. What kind of car? There was silence all across the classroom. Once again the officer frowned, bug eyed. We drifted from one confused eye to the other. I mean, the whole month I was going to this creek, I never once noticed what kind of car it was. Toyota Corolla, I think. No, it's not. It's a Kia. No, dude, it wasn't a foreign car. It was a Ford or something. American. No and no. And on and on it went. We all felt really bad all at once. Guilty. We collectively stared at the floor, trying to wrap our heads around how this situation was escalating extremely quickly. Color of the car? The officer asked with a hopeful look in his eye. Uh, beige. And it's a four door sedan. On that we could all agree, fortunately. But that was as close to a good description of her car as we could give. And our description of the pizza lady herself wasn't much better. She's short and. No, she's not short. Well, she's not tall. She's got blonde hair. No it wasn't. It was auburn. No, it was like graying. She's fat. She was not fat. Well, she wasn't skinny. As I sat there pondering, I was amazed at myself by how little of her features I never even took into account. I mean, putting her in my mind's eye, I couldn't recall what color eyes she had. No real sense of hair color, no tattoos no clothes that revealed anything like where she worked or lived. Couldn't quite remember if her hair was in a ponytail or a bunch of. She was about as nondescript as you could get. I couldn't even remember what kind of smokes that she smoked. I think we all agreed that she had bad skin and she was slightly overweight and possibly 35, 40 years of age. So we just described about half the women in the county. As the weeks wore on, we saw the police less and less, but when we did, they were always dragging Ethan and Otho out of class and questioning them in the dean's office. Other than that, all information was withheld. I always believed Ethan and Otho that they had nothing to do with his disappearance. Many others would disagree with me and found those kids a bit suspicious. I just feel that they were so outspoken about it. They knew that everybody was looking at them with shifty eyes and understandably got irate and insisted that they told the police everything they knew. They knew they had seen Terrence in the car with the pizza lady just one time and they were not driving in the direction of his house. They also mentioned how Terrence never had any money ever. But a few days before he disappeared on that fateful Thursday, Ethan and Otho remembered him coming out of his 711 with a wad of $1 bills in his hand that he shoved into his pocket. When they confronted him about where he got the money from, Terrence became defensive and threatening and they were told to mind their own business. Eventually, Terrence's parents were arrested for more than just child neglect. I remember hearing there was an onslaught of charges thrust upon them. Possession, assault, abuse, etc. Shortly before Christmas break, it ended up that a total of 14 women between the ages of 35 to 40 owning a beige four door sedan were detained and interviewed by police investigators and every single one of them was let loose with a solid alibi. After the return to school and the star of a new semester, talks of Terrence's disappearance became less and less of the conversation topic. And in the spring we had a serial killer who was kidnapping young college students. This is sort of where Terrence truly disappeared. It seemed as if the city didn't care that a local 16 year old kid went missing. Yet suddenly two or three other kids went missing and the community was just in an uproar. The media that encircled catching the killer, the finding of the girls bodies, all of this completely eclipsed Terrence and nothing else has ever been revealed as to whether or not his case was ongoing. Or if it's gone cold. There was just nothing, no information at all. What we do know is that he is not in the prison system anywhere. This has been confirmed. Some have speculated that Terrence ran away to start a new life. I don't agree with this though. And though it's harsh to say about Terrence Cook, the kid was a dum dum. And I just don't see him having the resources to successfully run away from whatever sense of home he had, which was probably the school where he could get free food and smokes and talk to people. So I don't think he would have been able to just go to Canada with a new identity or something. I believe something more sinister happened. I'm sure if you worked your imagination, there are a lot of things that could have transpired. The fact that the last time I saw Terence Cook was also the last time I saw the pizza lady does not bode well. Five years had gone by and I was living in a different state at the time. But my buddy Dustin called me. We talked about our lives and reminisced about all things. And that's when he brought up Terence Cook. It had been reported in the newspaper that Ethan and Otho were indeed suspects for a very long time, but they were cleared of all charges as having no evidence. The parents were still in prison, not for the murder of Terrence. But for all the other stuff I mentioned earlier, I think the dad got a handful more charges for beating his wife, who was more than happy to testify against him, married or not. So she totally threw him under the bus. I asked Dustin if it had ever been revealed who the pizza lady was. You know what's interesting? Dustin said the article doesn't mention her at all. And there you have it. I don't know if there's a lesson to this or anything to learn from it. Perhaps never talk to strangers. I don't know. Mind your surroundings. Even if they are young and there's a person who's an adult, you do not have to trust them. Listen to your gut if it's telling you something is not right. I sometimes think about Terence Cook and what could have happened to him. I have really been into urban exploration or Urbex for short, for a couple of years now. And living in Europe, Germany specifically, there are always reasonably nearby sites to visit. I started by venturing into well researched Urbex areas with my friends. At the time, I was a teen who was afraid to explore alone, afraid of getting assaulted, kidnapped, mugged, or worse. Eventually, though, after about A year of urbexing with friends, I decided that I was finally competent enough to explore alone. I had become knowledgeable of what safety measures to take. For instance, equipment pieces like masks are necessary when entering old buildings due to the likeliness of asbestos particles being present. And one should always wear thick clothes and sturdy shoes to ensure you do not step or bump into anything sharp or harmful. I always scope the buildings and pre plan entry and exit plans. Additionally, my location was shared with one of my closest friends and every time I went on an adventure I had successfully urbexed several times alone and covered many abandoned places across East Germany. In July of 2018, however, things went very wrong. It was the peak of summer and because I had explored almost all of the places near me, I had to dedicate time to more tedious methods of finding spots. I began to research bunkers that were used in prevalent wars in Germany, especially in World War II. I came across one in the depths of a forest about three hours drive from my city. I was very certain it would be there and when I arrived it sure was. I was over the moon. I felt like a real explorer uncovering ancient artifacts. It was all concrete on the outside and had no sign of vandalism, so I assumed no one else had ever found. Took me almost an hour to find a way in. I fiddled with the door, banged rocks up against it and prayed until it finally cracked open. It was almost too easy. I turned my headlamp on and was wearing a mask and gloves for extra protection. Even through the mask the smell was foul, as if something had died in there. The interior was surprisingly large and the floor was laden with papers and trash. What began to freak me out was in one of the sleeping quarters I found a pillow which was slightly ripped open and when I picked it up I realized it was hair. Human hair I'm guessing. This filled me with dread as I immediately assumed that it was the hair of maybe Jewish prisoners from the Holocaust. I began to think of the horrors they experienced. I suddenly wanted to leave, but I forced myself to stay as I did not want to drive three hours for nothing. When I pulled my eyes away from the pillow and scanned scanned the room, I recoiled and noticed something strange out of place even. It was an eaten can of beans with a plastic spoon in it. The paper can wrap was still vibrant. I picked it up carefully to examine it and I read the expiration date July 11, 2018. I was a bit freaked out, but I just chalked it up to someone else exploring this place before me. However, as I kept exploring, I started to see signs of modern life. More food packaging, decent clothes, air freshener cans. The rotten smell became more pungent as I walked around. As soon as I entered the next room, I physically folded at the putrid smell that instantly made me feel sick. As I recovered, I began to look around the room and almost jumped when I saw three bodies. The first thought that rushed to my head was that this place was occupied by squatters. But I think that was just the shock. Speaking as clearly, they were dead. It was a heavy set old man, a woman of similar age, and very distressingly, a small boy, maybe 9 years old. Their bodies were swollen and their skin was purple and waxy. They didn't even look real. The older man was lying on his back, his stomach mutilated, only wearing khaki trousers. The image of his desecrated body still haunts me. The woman was naked and was covered in bruises. Her face stared at me. I was absolutely horrified. The child's face was unrecognizable. I began to cry. I could not breathe. Thousands of thoughts consumed my mind. What if the person who did this is close? What if they're still here? What if they find me? I would end up dead just like them. I went to call the emergency service number from my country, but there was no service here. In my shocked and terrified state, I decided to take photos of the scene before exiting as fast as I could. I did not even bother shutting the door. I just ran. Much to my horror, I froze on the spot when I heard footsteps. I crouched behind a fallen tree, though I could still see the bunker entrance if I jutted my head out, though I did not dare to. I heard a male voice seethe and yell. I was not expecting visitors in German before stanching into the bunker, I felt the biggest relief that he decided to forgo scooping the area. And when I thought he was deep enough into the bunker to not hear me, I ran again as fast as my body could possibly allow. I remembered that the road was about a 30 minute walk from the bunker and I ran for what felt like ages. As I saw the road, I heard a vicious scream and running behind me, I put in every ounce of survival I had in me and ran for a couple more minutes before finally crawling up to the road and to my car, which was about 200 meters from where I emerged. My keys were in my backpack and my shaky hands were not helping. However, when I finally got them, I saw the figure climbing up the road from the forest. He seemed to be about 60 years old and was very tall. In his hand he was a large knife which looked used. I was able to get into my car and lock the doors just as he slammed into my window, banging on the glass and cursing at me. His eyes were blue. I started the ignition and drove over 140 km an hour, which was well over the speed limit. Though of course I didn't care. Looking back, I am so grateful that he did not slash my tires or anything. Instead was too focused on screaming at me. I stopped at the nearest gas station and called my father. I told him everything. I arrived home and he met me at my place. I had only recently moved out, being only 20 years old. We immediately went to the police. I showed them the photos I took, described the man and gave them coordinates to the place they said they would go check it out. However, they never did get back to me. I have no idea if they actually did. Since then I have given up Urbex and for a long time I couldn't even go out alone. I even received therapy to deal with the trauma of seeing those bodies. To this day, over five years later, the images of them, their eyes and the sound of this man's voice, they haunt my dreams. I am a middle aged man who works from home. I work from the top floor of a split level house and have a window next to me that always has the curtains open. Sometimes I work nights for deploying software and don't think to shut my curtains. You know how if it's dark outside and your light is on, people can kind of see in but you can't see out? Well, one night I was working and obviously focused on what I was doing as well as on a group call centering around the deployment. So I was not looking out the window periodically or anything. So I don't know how long this lady was standing in my yard looking through my window. But when the call was over, I turned off the lights and she was right there. She looked normal suburban mom looking lady just standing there staring into my window. I don't believe that she was just looking at my house in general or anything because she was clearly looking up and right at my window. I wanted to believe she was one of those people who were always spamming you with offers to buy your house or fix your roof after hail damage or whatever. But it was like 9:30pm it was completely dark outside and again she was intently just staring through my window. What was so jarring was how normal she looked though. I live in an okay neighborhood, but there is a homeless population in the nearby woods. But this woman did not look homeless. She looked like one of the ladies who would walk their kids to school every day. Just a typical suburbanite lady. I am the type to kinda slowly try and figure things out before acting, so I just waited. I was confident she couldn't see me with my lights off, so I wanted to see what she was going to do. I looked at my phone to see if the ring doorbell had notified me and sure enough it had. Looking through the camera didn't tell me anything new though. She must have stood there for about three more minutes and then just wandered off. She walked out of view so I couldn't see which house she went into. I was sufficiently weirded out and thought about running out there to ask what she wanted, but ultimately I just told myself that I would pay close attention the next few days to see if anything else weird happened. It wasn't until a few days later that that I saw her again. I was walking my dog. She's tiny, not at all scary, but she does notice and bark at everything. I was taking her on her before bed walk when she started pulling really hard and freaking out for her. That's not super atypical though because she is a spaz dog. So she's pulling kind of up a driveway and I pull her back. She doesn't obey, she just keeps pulling. I look up the driveway and ducked down behind an suv. Is the woman crouched on the ground like a child? Looking at me from behind was the same woman as before, obviously well done, hair, makeup. I mean, I can't stress how normal she looked, but at the same time, out of her mind apart from being crouched on the cement staring at me, I sort of freak out and just say, uh, sorry for whatever reason and pull my dog along the sidewalk until she chills out. When we finally got far enough away, now I'm walking fast and heading around the block so I don't cross that house again. I'm pretty jarred by that experience and running through a million explanations in my mind, but also kind of happy that I know where she lives at least so I can call the cops if I need to. I round the final corner to head to my house, but I see someone standing right in front of it. Now I know who it's going to turn out to be and I have zero idea of what to do. I'm trapped on the sidewalk, so I just keep moving forward. The figure reveals itself to be the woman as I get closer and as I just awkwardly say Something like can I help you? I don't clearly remember as I was freaking out. She says nothing in response, just stares at me. I ask her again if she needs help because at this point I'm wondering if she has special needs and has wandered away from a caretaker or something. I'm about to just walk past her and go inside and call the cops, but then she reaches out and asks if she can pet my dog. I say sure, because what else do you say? She leans down to pet my dog and transforms into the normal person she looks like. She starts asking me about the breed and I tell her it's a Pomeranian and husky mix and she goes on about how cute she is. I kind of laugh and agree, but inwardly I'm just very confused. I go to head inside when I decide now that she's speaking, I'll ask her why she was standing outside my house. I do, and she, just as if it's the most normal thing to say in the world, says I thought my love was only for you, but I see it's because of your puppy too. I'm stunned. My face must have shown it and I don't speak for a minute. At least she fills the awkward silence by saying, love is something you just know. You know. You just know. When it's real, it's meant to be. When it's meant, meant to be. And I can tell. I can tell I wanted to tell her that I was married, but I didn't think she would believe me since she seems like she's been stalking me and lives close by. So I just say something along the lines of I don't know if I believe it's that simple. I'm really not looking for a relationship though right now. But yeah, I, I, I think my dog is cute. I laugh awkwardly and try to break off to head inside. It works, but before I turn to disappear behind the back of the house, I look back and she is burning a hole right through me. This is sort of where the story ends, except to say that she still stares into my window from time to time. It's always just from the sidewalk, but it's been about a month and a half since that incident and I'm worried that it will happen again. I don't want to call the police because she hasn't really done anything. It's just the look in her eye and her weird behavior and the way she talks that freaks me out. If anything else happens, I'm really hoping she sets her sights on someone else soon and just goes away. It's.