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Hey, this is Dane and this is Scary Stories in 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 299amonth. All of the ads gone, every single giveaway automatically entered. And starting now today, every Sunday, I'm going to release the ultimate episode. 6 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 and 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.
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Chronic Spontaneous Urticaria or chronic hives with no known cause it's so unpredictable. It's like playing pinball. Itchy red bumps start on my arm, then my back, sometimes my legs. Hives come out of nowhere and it comes and goes. But I just found out about a treatment option@treatmyhives.com Take that chronic hives. Learn more at treatmyhives.com.
- [01:39]
A
It was fall of 2015 and I was 14 years old. I've always stayed up late late on the weekends where the sun started to rise and and you could hear the early morning birds. I was usually up playing whatever video game I was into at the time or watching anime. One night I decided to watch one of my favorite movies to date, Spirited Away. It must have been about 3:30 or 4:00am at this point when I heard a crash outside the front of the house. It sounded metallic, like some kind of crunching and breaking of what I thought could be our satellite dish hitting the pavement of our driveway. It scared me at first, but I blew it off and figured I would just let my dad know in the morning when he woke up for work. There was no reason to bother him now about it, not like it was an emergency or anything. Since I didn't even watch cable, I resumed watching the movie. We lived in the outskirts of town, surrounded by forest. There was about a quarter mile on either side of us before we reached the neighbor's property. We lived on a hill where the road curved around the grass that lined our front yard. It was sharp enough that you couldn't see if anything was coming. While pulling out of your driveway, you had to roll the windows down and listen for any approaching cars. Across the street from us was a golf course, and a bit farther than that was a local zoo. So you can imagine there is not a lot of light or people around at night. 10 minutes or so had passed since I heard the satellite fall. When I started to hear what I thought was faint screaming from outside, I could feel my ears getting hot and my heart starting to race. I paused the movie and sat quietly listening. Another one. I tried to believe it could have been some kind of animal out there, but it was definitely the scream from another human being. I got up and just stared at the curtains that covered the window in our living room, too afraid to pull them back and look outside. The screaming continued. A woman. My mind jumped to the first horrific thing I could think of. Someone is getting murdered in the woods outside of our house. Still being weary about the situation, I woke up my older brother first and told him what I had heard. I must not have seemed frightened enough because all he did was shuffle in his bed and say with a groggy voice, it's probably a monkey or something that escaped from the zoo. It happens with him. Being around four years older than me, I decided to try to believe that. I went back out into the living room. The screaming was too surreal for me to ignore. It was blood curdling. All I could do was stand there frozen with fear, listening to it wail on faintly from outside. I wasn't sure what could be happening out there anymore. This had been going on for what felt like 10 or 15 minutes by now. If someone was getting killed in the woods in front of my house, I thought it would be over by now. With almost perfect timing. As I'm standing there frozen, hair standing up on all ends and eyes wide, there was a knocking on our front door just a few feet away from me. They're coming for us. Without even thinking, I bolted into my parents bedroom down the hall. Dad, someone's knocking on the door. It looked like some sort of force had pushed my father out of his bed. He sprung into action. He it took him all of about five seconds to get up, get to the closet and pull out a weapon. He motioned for me to stay behind him as he crept out from the hallway to the living room. With his back against the door and weapon in hand, he slowly turned the knob and opened the door to reveal a small child. This kid had to be about 7 years old, with cuts on his face and arms. My mom needs help, he said to us. My father opened the door all the way to reveal that down the hill a van had crashed head on to the tree across the street. The screaming was coming from the mother behind the wheel. Now that I could hear it fully, she had been screaming for help. He told the kid to hold on for a second while he went to throw on some clothes. By this point my mom and brother were awake and standing next to me. My father told us to stay while he went down to check out the situation. If anything really serious or gruesome was down there, he did not want any of us to see it. We took the kid in, wrapped a blanket around him and got him some water. We put cartoons on the TV and tried anything we could to distract him. My father later told us there was the mother, a toddler and an infant also in the vehicle. The toddler was completely fine and the baby had been flipped out of its car seat and was sitting on the floor of the backseat. It had its arm curled up to its body, holding it and crying. It must have broken something. The mother, on the other hand, was crushed in between the seat and the steering wheel. She went on yelling that she couldn't feel her legs and begged my father to look and see if he could see anything. He took a deep breath, pulled out his phone flashlight and tried to look down at her legs. They could have been torn up, mangled or even severed from her body for all he knew. But he couldn't see anything. The front of the car was pushed in so far that he couldn't even see past the steering wheel. The woman was small, maybe £100 or so, and that is what saved her life. Had she been any bigger, the 55 mile per hour impact would have killed her instantly. She said she had fallen asleep at the wheel on the way home from her parents house. Once the police and paramedics arrived, we gave the kid back to them and watched from our driveway. They pulled out the jaws of life to cut away the pieces of the car in order to get to her. It took about 45 minutes to get her out of what used to be her suv. The impact of the crash combined with shredding the thing apart, it hardly looked at all like a vehicle anymore. It was too far away and too dark out for me to make out most of what was happening. I don't remember them pulling her out, which is probably a good thing. I can't imagine what her legs must have looked like Everyone was put into the ambulance and headed to the hospital. My family and I stayed awake for a few hours after that, still shaken up from what had just happened. I'm 22 now and I still think about that night a few times a year. I don't think I'll ever forget the screams of pure pain and fear that I heard that night. I was 19 or 20 when we finally found a place to rent in the same neighborhood as my family. At the time, I was six months pregnant. Pregnant with my son getting situated in the house and the start of a new era. Becoming a mother. And if you are wondering, no, his father was not involved this time. So it was just me and my family for some imagery. The house was a one story three bedroom house with a den that later became my aunt's bedroom. The living room was very open and connected to a kitchen with a sliding glass door that complemented the backyard amazingly. We had a nice patch of grass surrounded in rocks. Compared to Hawaii, the house was actually very nice for the price we had gotten it at. Given the cost of living is significantly lower than it is in Hawaii. My mother let me stay in the master bedroom with its own bathroom, which was convenient for me since I constantly needed to pee every 10 seconds. When you opened my bedroom door, it led straight straight down a hallway that led to the laundry room. Staring down the hall always gave me an eerie feeling like someone could be in the room at the end of the hall just looking back at me and I would never know. When my son was around three months old, I started experiencing weird things. At first it was my door randomly slamming on its own, which inevitably ended up being just the AC turning on and off. Then it was the creaky noises that could faintly sound like footsteps coming from the attic. I told myself it was just a creaky house making a racket, nothing to worry about, right? But things started to get creepier. For a few nights I began having these vivid nightmares that would creep me out, but I would ultimately forget about them later on in the day as I needed to tend to my child and tidy my room constantly. Then came the sleep paralysis that would occur two times in the same month. The first time I experienced it in that house, it was your standard sleep paralysis. Not being able to move and just listen and be in my thoughts, looking around the room, waiting for it to end. The second time was was much more sinister and it shook me to my core. It's not uncommon to have hallucinations when under paralysis, but what I saw shook me up. For years to come. I was laying there in my room. My LED light was on red since it's the darkest color to have on, that emits enough light for me to get out of bed and make my way around the room without hurting myself or accidentally tripping over anything. Especially if my baby wakes up in the middle of the night and I need to tend to him. Looking around the red lit room, I was put on edge and felt a deep eerie sensation that I wasn't alone and something was watching me. I looked over to the right side of the room where my bathroom door was, not being able to turn my head but just look with my eyes. My bed was right beside that bedroom door, three to four feet from the side of my bed and what I saw sent a chill down my spine. The bathroom door was open, ajar with something. Standing in front of was very tall, wide shoulders and a slim body, its pale face and deep black eyes that stared right into mine. It was wearing some kind of collared jacket or hood of some sort in all black, rugged and ripped in complete and utter disbelief. I tried to close my eyes and open them again, but I couldn't take my eyes away. There it was, so close to me, just staring. I could hear the faint sounds of my cousin Tate playing some kind of video game in the living room, talking into his headset, which made the situation feel so real. The figure started to push the door more open into the bathroom, its hands slowly moving, revealing the long pointed fingernails as if it was getting ready to make a move and come towards me. But then I snapped out of it and woke up. Jumping up from my position I stumbled, stared at the bathroom until I got the courage to make my way over to it and turned the lights on. Nothing after that I kept my bathroom door shut. Every night before I slept I kept it to myself since I just didn't see the point of talking about it. I shook it off and tried to rationalize it as my mind just making things up. After that I began to experience a few unusual things. One night I was taking a shower and started to hear whispers, faint chatter of many different voices, none of which I could recognize or understand what was being said. It sounded as if I was standing in a crowded room and everyone was talking all at once in a low volume. I called out to my mom and brother thinking maybe they came into my room and were conversing with other each each other. The voices stopped abruptly and no answer back. I thought to myself well that was strange and continued to shower. Slowly the voices came back and grew louder and louder and louder until something whispered Safari right into my ear. I turned off the water and jumped out of the shower, running into my bedroom with water dripping down onto the carpet. My room was empty. All I could do was stand there frozen and stare at the bathroom once again. After I got dressed and made my way around the house to find it practically empty. Only my brother was there and I asked if he had called out to me or was on the phone. Puzzled, he shook his head no and asked why. Why? I responded that I must have been hearing things. A few days later, my cousin and I decided to have a few drinks and hang out in my room, sharing old stories about our childhood. My cousin began telling me the story of the time that we all lived in a haunted house in Virginia. At the time I was too young and wanted to be told all the details of things that happened, but I can save that story for another day. Then I remembered when I had sleep paralysis and began to tell my cousin about my experience. But before I could describe what I saw, my cousin cut me off and asked, did it have a white face? I looked at my cousin in shock and asked him, how did you know that? To which he casually replied, because I see it all the time. Where? In the backyard, he replied, why do you think I stopped smoking outside and moved to the garage? He joked. I asked him to describe to me what it looked like and he said that it wore some kind of black dress as he put it. I asked him if it had a hood or collar of some sort and he thought to himself and shook his head yes. It was strange that we had both seen something similar. I couldn't really make sense of it. Intoxicated and quite interested, I started to believe that maybe we were both seeing the exact same thing. Something was in our backyard. This next part is quite interesting and I still think about it from time to time. At some point my mom came up to me and asked me how I felt about this new house. I told her I liked it and how open and spacious it was since we had so many things that we own and didn't have a place to put it in previous homes we lived in. Then she crossed her arms and moved closer to me and asked, have you experienced anything strange? Alarmed and relieved, I started to experience explained to her what I had told Tate weeks before. When I began to describe what I saw, my mother's eyes widened in complete fear as she put her hands over her mouth and muttered, shut up. She told me that the night before my brother had sleep paralysis and saw the exact same thing standing at the foot of his bed watching him sleep as we talked amongst ourselves. I guess my uncle heard what we were talking about and came out of his room to tell us that he had also had sleep paralysis and had seen something flying around his room in a black gown ordering him to leave. It is clear that nobody had told anyone about their experiences and yet we were all seeing the same thing.
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Thing.
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It is also strange that everyone had experienced some kind of sleep paralysis. The last experience I had was when my son turned six months old and began walking around. He would stare at various walls in our home and would giggle and walk around as if something were there talking to him. He would babble back at the walls and sometimes stare down the same hallway that gave me chills and point to something at the end of it. We have now moved out of this house and haven't experienced much since then. I hope that whoever moved in doesn't experience the things we have. I know Arizona is known for sightings of skinwalkers in the deserted areas in which we live in, but I hope I never see anything like that again. If anyone can justify these experiences, please let me know. I would love to hear what you may think. As a raider scavenging a derelict world. You settle into an underground settlement, but now you must return to the surface where ARC machines range. Rome if you're brave enough, who knows what you might find. Arc Raiders a multiplayer extraction adventure video game. Buy now for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X and S and PC. Rated T for Teen.
- [19:58]
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Every holiday shopper's got a list. But Ross shoppers? You've got a mission like a gift run that turns into a disco snow globe. Throw pillows and PJs for the whole family. Dog included. At Ross, Holiday magic isn't about spending more, it's about giving more for less. Ross, Work your magic. Toast the holidays in a new way and raise a glass of Rumchata, a delicious creamy blend of horchata with rum. Enjoy it over ice or in your coffee. Rumchata. Your holiday cocktails just got sweeter. Tap or click the banner for more Drink responsibly. Caribbean rum with real dairy cream, natural and artificial flavors. Alcohol 13.75% by volume 27.5 proof. Copyright 2025 Agave Loco Brands, Pojoaaukee, Wisconsin. All rights reserved.
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2 years ago I took a part time job that still haunts me to this day. I decided to finally write about my experience, hoping it might help process everything. I was a college student and like a lot of you, I needed a part time job to help cover tuition and other expenses. After a long search, I. I found what seemed like the perfect job. It was a caregiver position, working from 5pm to 9pm taking care of elderly people. The job was pretty straightforward. Make sure they took their meds, had their meals and just hang out with them for a few hours. I got assigned to take care of this 85 year old lady, let's call her Mrs. Eleanor, to keep things anonymous. She lived alone in this quaint little house on the edge of town. The place was old, but well kept, with a charming, slightly overgrown garden that probably hadn't seen a gardener in a few years. She had a small poodle named Max who was always by her side, following her around everywhere she went. From the start, the house felt off. There were no family pictures anywhere. I mean, you would think at her age she would have photos of kids, grandkids, maybe an old lover or something. But no, nothing. It was weird. The walls were bare except for a few generic paintings. I asked her about it once, just casually during a conversation, but she brushed it off and changed the subject real fast. She had this look in her eyes, a mix of sadness and something I couldn't quite place. I didn't push it because I didn't want to lose the job, but it definitely made me curious. My daily routine was simple enough. I would get there around 5pm, cook dinner, make sure she took her meds and just keep her company for a few hours max. The poodle was a friendly little guy, always happy to see me wagging his tail and jumping around. Despite his age, Mrs. Eleanor, though, was polite but pretty reserved. She didn't talk much about her past or family, which just added to the mystery. Our conversations were always pretty basic, like talking about the weather or what was on the news. Every evening, as I cleaned up after dinner, I would hear Mrs. Eleanor singing a lullaby. It was the same soft, melodic tune every night, echoing through the quiet house. While the song was gentle, it really creeped me out. It felt so out of place in the otherwise silent house. She sang it every night like clockwork, and it always made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Sometimes I would find myself pausing my cleaning just to listen. The whole situation was unsettling. The house, the lack of family photos, the nightly lullaby. It all felt like pieces of a puzzle that didn't quite fit together. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was a deeper, darker story behind those melodies. It was like the house Held secrets that it wasn't ready to share. And I was just an outsider peeking in. As the weeks went by, my curiosity grew stronger. Why was she singing this lullaby every night? Who was it for? The routine stayed the same, but the same sense of unease kept building. I had been given strict instructions by my employer to not go into Mrs. Eleanor's room. It was one of the non negotiable rules of the job, probably to respect her privacy and maintain professional boundaries. One evening while I was cleaning the dishes, I noticed that the door to Mrs. Eleanor's small office was slightly open. She had always kept it closed and had told me it was just a mess she didn't want me to fuss around with. But that evening, the door was invitingly open. Hearing her close the bathroom door upstairs, I decided to take the chance and peek inside the office. The room looked straight out of the 1960s. Blue walls, a small single bed, a wooden desk cluttered with old papers. There was a small closet to the left that caught my eye. The whole setup struck me as odd. This room, which looked like it belonged to a young boy, was in the home of an elderly woman living alone. There were no pictures, no personal belongings, nothing to explain explain why this room was here. I couldn't explore more because I heard footsteps right above me, making my heart race. Panicking, I quickly closed the door and hurried back to the kitchen. The rest of the evening went by uneventfully. I gave her the necessary pills, made sure she was comfortable, and left for the night. But I couldn't stop thinking about that room. Room. Why would she have a boy's room in her house if she had no children? The thought gnawed at me, creating a whirlwind of questions. The next day, my curiosity got the better of me. I decided to do some research on Mrs. Eleanor. I spent hours online searching for any information about her, but nothing came up. No social media profiles, no news articles, nothing. Not a single piece of information about her life. It was baffling and left me with more questions than answers. I returned to work after the weekend, determined to find out more. That evening, as usual, I prepared dinner and ensured Mrs. Eleanor took her medication. Then I waited for her to go to the bathroom. The moment I heard the bathroom door close, I quickly made my way to the office. The room was just as I had left it, with that same lingering, musty smell hanging in the air. This time, I opened the closet. Inside, I found small boxes stacked neatly but covered in a thin layer of dust. My heart pounded as I opened one One to find baby clothes. Tiny socks, pants, and sweaters, all meant for a baby boy. They were neatly folded and seemed well preserved despite their apparent age. But why would Mrs. Eleanor have these? The discovery left me with more questions than answers. I went back to making dinner, trying to process what I had found. Found? My mind was racing with possibilities, but none of them made any sense. Was it possible she had a child once? If so, where was he now? That night, as usual, Mrs. Eleanor began singing her lullaby. Normally, this song would send shivers down my spine, creeping me out every time, but this night was dead different. Instead of fear, I felt a surge of curiosity that I could not ignore. I went upstairs quietly, and with each step up, the lullaby grew louder. The door to her bedroom was almost closed, but had a small gap, just enough for me to peek through. She always left a gap, saying it was to let Max come and go as he pleased. I peered through the gap and was shocked by what I saw there. Mrs. Eleanor was sitting in a rocking chair, gently swaying back and forth. She was holding Max in her arms, cradling him like a baby and singing softly to him. Next to her was a small wooden cradle, old and worn, as if it hadn't been used in years. She continued her lullaby, her voice soft and melodic. But now it felt more sad than creepy. Her gentle rocking, the way she cradled Max, and the soft melody of the lullaby created an image that was hard to shake. I slowly backed away from the door, not wanting to intrude any further. I went back downstairs, my mind spinning from what I had just seen. This made me think and start connecting all the dots. Was she pretending her dog was a baby? A baby she never had? I could be wrong, but that would make sense, right? The boys room, the baby clothes, no pictures, no husband husband, no children. Just her and her dog, whom she pretended was her own son. There are many possibilities. Maybe she lost her child during a miscarriage, or the son died somehow. It's heartbreaking to think about, but I had no way of knowing for sure since there was nothing about her online. I even asked my boss about Mrs. Eleanor, trying to get some information about her past. My boss didn't know much either, just that Mrs. Eleanor had always been a bit reserved and private. She mentioned that Mrs. Eleanor had experienced some tragic losses and that she was now quite lonely with some health issues, typical for her age, but nothing specific. I worked out the rest of the week, but everything felt so creepy and intense. The quiet dinners together, the silence in the house, the haunting lullaby. It all felt like I Was living in some kind of ghost story. Each night as I lay in bed, I couldn't stop thinking about what I had seen. The pieces seemed to fit together, but they painted a picture that was too tragic and eerie for me to handle. Even during the day, I found myself distracted, replaying conversations with Mrs. Eleanor in my mind, looking for clues I might have missed. I thought about asking her directly, but quickly dismissed the idea. It felt too intrusive. And honestly, I was scared of what I might uncover. There was a part of me that didn't want to know the full story because the fragments I had were already too much. I noticed more details that added to the unsettling atmosphere. The way Mrs. Eleanor would sometimes pause mid sentence as if lost in a distant memory. Or how she would stroke Max's fur with a faraway look in her eyes. The house itself seemed to hold its breath. Breath. I made my decision. I sent a text message to my boss saying that I couldn't continue with the job and that I was quitting immediately. I didn't even say goodbye to Mrs. Eleanor. It felt wrong, and I know it was rude, but I just couldn't bring myself to face her again. I thought of another day in that house, surrounded by haunting memories and unto unanswered questions was too much for me to handle. I felt a mix of guilt and relief. Guilt for leaving without a proper Goodbye, for abandoning Mrs. Eleanor when she clearly needed someone. But also relief knowing that I wouldn't have to endure another evening of lullabies and unsettling silences. I knew I was being cowardly, but I just couldn't do it. The experience had taken a toll on me and I needed to get out. The whole experience was something I couldn't shake off easily. It made me think a lot about the hidden struggles people face and the ways they cope with their pain. Mrs. Eleanor's story, whatever the full truth was, taught me that sometimes the past can cast a long shadow over the present. So that's my story. It was a job that I thought would be simple. But it ended up being one of the most emotionally intense experiences of my life. Hi.
- [33:53]
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I'm here to pick up my son, Milo.
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There's no Milo here who picked up my son from school? Streaming only on Peacock. I'm gonna need the name of everyone that could have a connection. You don't understand. It was just the five of us.
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So this was all planned? What are you gonna do?
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I will do whatever it takes to get my son back. I honestly didn't see this coming. These nice people killing each other. All her fault. A new series streaming now only on Peacock.
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This episode is brought to you by State Farm. Listening to this podcast Smart move. Being financially savvy. Smart move. Another smart move having State Farm help you create a competitive price when you choose to bundle home and auto bundling. Just another way to save with a personal price plan. Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there. Prices are based on rating plans that vary by state. Coverage options are selected by the customer. Availability, amount of discounts and savings and eligibility vary by state.
- [34:53]
A
Extra value meals are back. That means 10 tender juicy McNuggets and medium fries and a drink are just $8 only at McDonald's for a limited time only. Prices and participation may vary. Prices may be higher in Hawaii, Alaska and California. And for delivery Limu AMU and Doug Here we have the Limu Emu in its natural habitat, helping people customize their car insurance and save hundreds with Liberty Mutual. Fascinating. It's accompanied by his natural ally, Doug. Limu is that guy with the binoculars watching us. Cut the camera, they see us. Only pay for what you need@libertymutual.com Liberty Liberty Liberty Liberty Savings Very underwritten by Liberty Mutual Insurance Company Affiliates excludes Massachusetts.
- [35:38]
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Ah, the sounds of an Etsy holiday. Now that's special. Want to hear it again? Get original and affordable gifts from small shops on Etsy. For gifts that say I get you shop Etsy tap the banner to shop now.
- [36:00]
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I was around 14 years old when it happened. For context, I was quite introverted and selective about who I get close to me as a teen. I'm still that way even as an adult. I had made a small number of friends despite my reserved stance, two of whom are my dearest friends to this day. I did my best in school and participated in a couple after school clubs which allowed me to delve further into my interests and hobbies. Though I also spent a decent amount of time on social media, I was well behaved and made a of lot smart choices during my teen years, thankfully due to being raised right by my mother who did her best to steer me in the right direction. However, here is where I stood out. I was alternative, goth, punk, rock, whatever you want to call it and I have always had an affinity for the morbid paranormal and darker subjects which reflect reflected in the way I dressed, the music I would listen to, the books I would read, TV shows and YouTube videos that I would watch. Some people found me and my interests to be weird or quote unquote of the devil. One of these main people who would insist on such things was my grandmother, whom we'll call Gael for privacy's sake. She would take every every opportunity to criticize the music I listen to, my clothes and me. In general. You would think that she was some sort of religious fanatic doing her due diligence to help bring a heathen grandchild closer to God. But no. Grandma Gail isn't religious by any means. You would barely hear her speak of God or religion, and she has never stepped foot in inside of a church for Sunday service, whereas I believed in God and had a personal relationship with him despite not being religious or attending church myself. Grandma Gale dabbles in witchcraft, a person who engaged in occult practices, something I never wanted to get into. Judging a teen goth for her style interests. Talk about hypocrisy. Anyway, there was always something unsettling about Gale, something that teetered on the edge of downright sinister. On top of being severely judgmental and self righteous, she isn't the easiest of people to get along with. She has a knack of taunting people with her words, using things people have told her against them and just being tight. Downright rude and unprovoked. But I and a few others have grown accustomed to it and have learned to work around her. Mood Changes I can recall a time when I was only four, playing with a couple of Barbie dolls in the kitchen. Mind you, I wasn't making a ton of noise, at least that I can remember, but at one point I must have gotten a little loud, unintentionally, because she rushed into the kitchen with this stern yet calm look on her face, which made me feel uneasy as I looked up at her from the floor, still holding my dolls. In this eerily relaxed tone of voice, she said to me, darla. Not my actual name. If you don't stop making noise, I'm going to send something your way to tonight. Your mama won't be able to hear your screams. She won't even be able to save you. It'll fly away with you and take you for punishment. Where? I wanted to ask, but I was too nonplussed to speak. Fear didn't hit me. Surprisingly, I was more nonplussed than anything because nothing along those lines had been said to me before. I stared back, my mouth probably nearly hitting the floor as my 4 year old brain tried to process what she had just said to me. I didn't tell my mom when she came to pick me up as it must have slipped my mind and I chalked it up to her wanting to scare me into being quiet. In my late teen years and early twenties, I noticed pentagrams on various various reading materials she had. I've witnessed her practicing what I now know to be spells or rituals against those she felt had wronged her or those she cared deeply about. She would make a list of said people or have a picture of them and spit on it, only to bury it underground or light it on fire. She is also known to collect people's hair and do God only knows what with it. I'm pretty sure my name has been on some of those lists a handful of times, but nothing ever came of it. Of course I know God looked out for me each time. Now onto the sleep paralysis experience during summer vacation I would always be dropped off at my grandparents home as most kids in my community community were while our parents went to work as per the usual routine. I would get up early with my mom and get ready to be dropped off to either get some extra sleep in or watch YouTube on my iPad in the morning while Grandma Gail watched her shows. It was during the first or second week of summer break. On this particular morning I was extremely tired, mainly due to it being being that time of the month for me. It was extremely sunny out, but not too hot once I arrived. I shut the door behind me, laid my iPad and overnight bag on top of the dresser and got into bed. The layout of the guest room was a standard four walled room. It was small, about 8 by 10ft, with a bed next to the window, a small closet and front of it, and a small dresser to the right of it. The curtains were drawn back allowing sunlight to spill into the room as soon as my head hit the pillow. I curled up with my hoodie and fell asleep. I'm not sure how long I slept. All I can remember is that I dreamed that a man was chasing me through the woods. He dressed in a raggedy white white T shirt full of holes and tattered jeans. As I was trying to hide behind a tree he found me and grabbed my wrist trying to pull me toward him. I must have been tossing and turning in my sleep because once my eyes shot open I was staring straight up at the ceiling. I tried turning over but my body wouldn't, rather couldn't move. I tried to open my mouth and say something but no words formed. Not even a sound came from my throat. I felt this sudden heaviness in my chest. It was a feeling I had never felt before. It felt as if a thick dark fog was engulfing me, making it difficult to take one Slow breath at a time. All I could do was lie still. Still despite trying to move my legs, arms and head. I felt pressure applied to my wrists and ankles as if I were being restrained. And then came the blood curdling scream of a woman. It sounded as if the scream went directly into my ear. Then all I heard next was nothing. Just complete still silence. I spotted a dark shadowy figure hovering over me. It was faceless, abnormally tall, smoky, with human proportioned limbs. It lowered its hands to my face, causing me to panic. I began to cry. At least I felt like I wanted to. But no tears fell from my eyes, just more muffled cries. The foreboding figure then placed its hands on my mouth and pulled it open. One hand pulling at my jaw, the other pulling at my upper lip. The pain I felt as those cold, heavy hands forced my mouth open was immense. The terror I felt now stunted my thoughts as I lie there, unable to stop whatever was happening next. That's when I began to pray. In my mind. No prayer in particular. It was just me mentally repeating the words please God help me over and over again. Just as it pressed its hand over my nose, the figure disappeared. The heaviness was no longer in the room and I shot straight up as I gasped for breath. The sounds of the the TV blaring from my grandparents room drowned out my sobs and gasps as I cradled my knees to my chest, trying to catch my breath and gather my thoughts. I could not comprehend what had just happened, but I knew it was very much so real. I understood why it was called sleep paralysis due to your ability to speak or move. Move being taken away. But there was also a paralyzing fear I felt during the episode. Amplify that fear. Ten times I'd experienced episodes where I would be unable to move or speak. But there was never a presence that I could see in the room. Only a feeling of intense dread and terror. Something told me to roll up my shirt sleeve and look at my arm that had been grabbed in my dream. Once I pulled back the right sleeve of my shirt, my heart nearly stopped beating. In my chest there was a faint dirt handprint where the man in my dream had grabbed me. At this point I began to hyperventilate. I called my mom to tell her what happened. She said she would call me back once she went somewhere private. I assume the panic and terror in my shaky voice was unmistakable. Once she called me back, she listened to me without saying anything until I was finished. I tried my best to articulate what had just happened through sobs and a hushed voice because I didn't want Grandma Gail to hear me. My mom reassured me that she believed everything I had just told her. She promised to take me to get ice cream after her shift. Then she said, do you remember the things you told me you saw take place there? Yes, I answered, recalling the lists and burning of the names. Once a door has been opened for such things to occur, all kinds of things can happen. There's definitely an evil place presence there. I'm just so sorry this happened to you. She offered to stay on the phone with me as long as I needed, but I knew she had work to do and promised to call her again if I felt the need to. Needless to say, I didn't go back to sleep. I'm not even sure if I was able to fall asleep that night in my own home. To this day, I haven't had a sleep paralysis episode as intense as that one, and I've had a few happen between then and now. The strange part is that 99% of the time they happened in that room at my grandparents home, the less intense 1% happened in the comfort of my own home. I believe ghosts, demons and malevolent spirits exist. There is no no other possible logical explanation for how the handprint got on my wrist. But I'm certain a demon was in the room with me that morning trying to prey on an innocent teen and God protected me amidst it all. That was 14 years ago and I'm still a goth, still rock out to my favorite bands. I'm even more fascinated with things people consider morbid and still enjoy a good horror film and mystery novel. I'm completing my mortuary license, I get to drive a hearse and dye my hair cool colors. And yes, my mom and I are still very close and she's very proud of the woman I have become. One thing is for certain though. There is true evil out there, seen and and unseen entities that masquerade as humans or spirits that linger waiting for a perfect opportunity to attack or latch onto an unsuspecting host. Something comforting to remember is as sure as evil exists, so does good. Stay safe and vigilant everyone, and be careful what you get into. Some curiosities are better off unexplored. It's okay not to be perfect with finances. Experian is your big financial friend and here to help. Did you know you can get matched with credit cards on the app? Some cards are labeled no Ding Decline, which means if you're not approved they won't hurt your credit scores. Download the Experian app for free today. Applying for no Ding decline cards won't hurt your credit scores if you aren't initially approved. Initial approval will result in a hard inquiry which may impact your credit scores.
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Has finally landed on Disney. Now you can watch the global phenomenon at home with you're ohana.
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Be good for one second.
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You're the devil. Lilo and Stitch is verified hot on Rotten Tomatoes with an audience score of 93%.
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Perfect stitch, also cute and fluffy.
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Disney's Lilo and Stitch rated PG now streaming on Disney. And right now you can get Disney, Hulu and all of ESPN with an incredible limited time offer. Terms apply.
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We all love a legendary comeback and Degree Original Cool Rush is back and better than ever. Cool Rush isn't just a scent, it's a movement, a fan favorite that delivers bold, fresh vibes and all day sweat protection. Whether you have a man that spends hours in the gym, heads into the office early, or is just trying to stay fresh on a long day, Cool Rush has their back. Head to your local Walmart or Target and grab Degree Cool Rush, the fan favorite scent from the world's number one antiperspirant brand.
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It. If we knew more about our sleep, what would we do differently? Would we go to bed at a consistent time or take steps to reduce interruptions to our sleep? With the all new Sleep score, Apple Watch measures your bedtime consistency, interruptions and sleep duration. Then every morning it combines these factors into an easy to understand score from 1 to 100 so you'll know how to take the quality of your sleep from good to excellent. Introducing the new sleep score on Apple Watch iPhone 11 or later required Monster Energy everybody knows White Monster Zero Ultra. That's the OG it kicked off this whole zero sugar energy drink thing. But Ultra is a whole lineup now. You've got Strawberry Dreams, Blue Hawaiian Sunrise and Vice Guava and they all bring the Monster Energy punch. So if you've been living in the White can branch out. Ultra's got a flavor for every vibe and every single one is Zero Sugar. Tap the banner to learn more. Hablas Espanol Spries to Deutsch.
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Come on, if you used Babbel, you would Babbel's conversation based techniques teaches you useful words and phrases to get you speaking quickly about the things you actually talk about in the real world. With lessons handcrafted by over 200 language experts and voiced by real native speakers, Babbel is like having a private tutor in your pocket. Start speaking with Babbel today. Get up to 55% off your Babbel subscription right now at babbel.com Spotify spelled B-A B-B-E L.com Spotify rules and restrictions may apply. This is a real good story about Bronx and his dad Ryan, Real United Airlines customers.
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We were returning home and one of the flight attendants asked Bronx if he wanted to see the flight deck and meet Captain Andrew.
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I got to sit in the driver's seat.
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I grew up in an aviation family and seeing Bronx kind of reminded me of myself when I was that age.
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That's Andrew, a real United pilot.
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These small interactions can shape a kid's future.
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It felt like I was the captain.
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Allowing my son to see the flight deck will stick with us forever. That's how Good leads the way. Hey, Ryan Reynolds here wishing you a very happy half off holiday because right now Mint Mobile is offering you the gift of 50% off unlimited. To be clear, that's half price, not half the service. Mint is still premium unlimited wireless for a great price. So that means a half day. Yeah. Give it a try@mintmobile.com Switch upfront payment.
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