Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 371 - Eyes In The Window Nextdoor

Summary

Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 371

"Eyes In The Window Nextdoor"
Host: Being Scared
Date: April 28, 2026

Overview:
In this atmospheric and unnervingly intimate episode of Scary Stories and Rain, host Being Scared presents a collection of true chilling accounts. Each story unfolds with hypnotic calm against a steady rainstorm backdrop, offering listeners tales of persistent hauntings, ominous omens, unexplainable dreams of death, brushes with the otherworldly, and encounters with the uncanny. Perfect for sleepless nights, each story is anchored in the subtle dread of the ordinary becoming terrifyingly strange.

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1. A Haunting That Follows the Family

(01:27 - 06:53)

• The narrator shares a lifelong history of seeing shadowy figures at the edge of vision, suggesting that their family is not haunted by places, but by something attached to them.
  • Quote: “It’s made us wonder if something is following us. Not tied to a house, but to us.” (02:24)
• Recurring episodes of dread: The narrator describes the palpable sense of being watched when alone at night, the chill of silence, and a growing paranoia.
  • Quote: “When the only thing you hear at night is your bare feet on a cold floor heading to the bathroom. When the silence feels too still.” (03:00)
• A vivid incident: While doing dishes, the narrator glimpses a large, hunched figure in the house via a window reflection. It vanishes in a blink.
• At night, a bedroom ritual is interrupted by the unsettling rule—never turn around, never show fear.
• Their German shepherd, Kane, repeatedly barks at seemingly nothing, especially at night, heightening the family’s unease.
  • Quote: “If you’ve had dogs, you know the sound. This was serious, protective. The bark that says: Something is in there.” (05:40)
• The narrator, convinced, notes: “When you see something and your dog sees it too, the idea of it being a coincidence starts to feel less and less likely.” (08:53)

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2. The Dream of Death – A Premonition

(08:53 - 16:54)

• The narrator recounts a chillingly prescient dream in which they watch a friend, Roy, try to communicate after a stroke but can’t help him, realizing they are only a presence.
  • Quote: “He tried to roll toward the edge of the bed... but it was like one whole side of his body just wouldn’t work.” (09:50)
• Upon waking at 6:30 am, the narrator feels certain Roy has died and shares this with their boyfriend.
• Hours later, with a friend, they decide to check on Roy. They discover him deceased, exactly as seen in the dream, the time of death matching the dream’s timing.
  • Quote: “The coroner examined him and estimated that Roy had been dead for about four to five hours... which puts the time of death right around when I had the dream, around 6:30 am.” (14:25)
• The dream’s details align perfectly with the real-life cause of death (massive stroke). The narrator remains haunted by the unspoken message Roy tried to give.
  • Quote: “To this day... I still don’t understand how or why I saw what I saw. I only know one thing for sure. It was not just a dream.” (15:34)

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3. Marked by the Lights – An Encounter with the Unknown

(16:54 - 23:17)

• A stay-at-home dad describes a bizarre late-night experience: after a taxing day, he steps onto his apartment balcony, gets shocked by the door, and finds the air “charged.”
• He observes an unfamiliar, flickering constellation. The lights suddenly move together and streak across the sky, blinding and silent.
  • Quote: “I saw a constellation that I didn’t recognize... As I watched, the stars began to move.” (19:30)
• The narrator blacks out, wakes inside, and discovers three bruised, perfect circles in a triangle under his armpit—matching the constellation.
  • Quote: “Under my armpit was a deep, bruised mark. Geometric. Three circles arranged in a perfect triangle...” (21:45)
• He and his wife are unable to find any normal cause. The event remains inexplicable and deeply unsettling.
  • Quote: “Those bruises. Three perfect dots deep in my flesh... I don’t know what just happened to me, but I’m starting to think I was not meant to see it.” (22:54)

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4. Dark Omens on the Scottish Coast

(24:09 - 39:08)

• The narrator, newly relocated to far northern Scotland, expects idyllic isolation but is confronted by recurring disturbing discoveries by the sea.
• Early on, dozens of dead seabirds are scattered along the coastal cliffs—a woman warns of bird flu, but the scene feels like a supernatural omen.
  • Quote: “It felt like I was seeing a mirror version of myself pulling away from something dangerous. Like the universe had sent me an omen disguised as a coincidence.” (25:30)
• Later, the discovery of a part-skeleton, part-freshly-fleshed goat or sheep, displayed in the form of an occult symbol, seems to mark a turning point as the narrator’s life falls apart after the sighting.
  • Quote: “It resembled something unholy. It reminded me of Baphomet... It felt like an omen.” (27:46)
• On a punishing Boxing Day hike, the narrator encounters an abandoned port with strange men burning something at night, then stumbles upon two seal pups killed in a bizarre, almost surgical way missing their skulls but with skin intact.
  • Quote: “The pup was missing its skull. Not its head, its skull. The skin was there, empty, like something had slipped the bone out from inside.” (32:38)
• The narrator concludes with a warning: the remote places are where “lost things drift” and that for some, these are places to disappear—or be disappeared.
  • Quote: “So many reminders that the edges of the world are not peaceful. They are unsettling. They are where lost things drift.” (35:54)

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5. A Phantom in Church

(41:06 - 53:36)

• Listener retells a church service experience: family is sensitive to the supernatural, and the storyteller recalls hearing persistent rustling behind them in the pews, where a woman sat alone.
• After the service, the woman is simply gone—nobody saw her leave, and her seat is empty.
  • Quote: “But she wasn’t there. There was no one there, and if they left, we would have seen them leave or heard them walking behind us. There was never anyone there.” (42:29)
• Later, the narrator’s mother confesses to feeling a sense of fear in the spot, an emotion she hadn’t felt the previous week.
  • Quote: “The uneasiness only hit when I realized whatever was behind me was not human.” (44:50)

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Notable Quotes & Moments

• On Haunted Lives:
  “Maybe it’s not that every place we live is haunted. Maybe we’re the ones being haunted. Maybe we have a second shadow.” (02:40)

• On Dogs & Spirits:
  “Some people believe dogs can see spirits, and I am one of those people.” (08:53)

• On Premonition:
  “I watched him die in my dream just now.” (10:45)

• On the Uncanny:
  “Three perfect dots deep in my flesh... I don’t know what just happened to me, but I’m starting to think I was not meant to see it.” (22:54)

• On Scotland’s Coast:
  “If you have demons of your own, if you’re running from something, whatever you do, stay away.” (38:46)

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Timestamps for Key Segments

• 01:27 – Family Haunting and the Shadow Figures
• 05:40 – Dog’s Protective Bark Reveals Unseen Dread
• 08:53 – The Death Dream of Roy and Real-Life Confirmation
• 16:54 – Bizarre Nighttime Lights and Mysterious Markings
• 24:09 – Dark Omens and the Haunted Scottish Coast
• 32:38 – Discovery of the Seal Pups with Missing Skulls
• 41:06 – The Phantom Woman Behind the Church Pew

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Tone & Style

The narration maintains a gentle, conversational calm—lulling yet suspenseful, as if inviting listeners to share in a moment of quiet dread and reflection. Each storyteller uses vivid, sensory language, with a raw, confessional honesty that heightens both relatability and unease.

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Summary

This episode is a tapestry of real-world horror and supernatural unease, weaving together moments from ordinary lives where ordinary reality slips and something unfriendly peeks through—a shadow at the edge of your vision, a beloved dog’s warning bark, a portent seen at the moment of death, cosmic lights that leave bruising marks, and omens on lonely Scottish shores. It urges listeners to trust their instincts, heed their dreams, and remember: there are things just out of sight, waiting for you to look their way.

Perfect for listeners seeking not just scares, but stories that linger in the mind with a chill even after the rain fades.

Transcript

[A]

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[A]

Hey, before this episode begins, I just want to let everyone know that my film that I've been producing for the last two years, Gale Yellow Brick Road, is now streaming on Chilling. So if you weren't able to go see it in theaters a couple months ago, no worries. Click the link in the description to this video or just search Chilling in your app store and you can watch Gale Yellow Brick Road tonight at home. I really hope you enjoy. Please leave an honest rating and review on IMDb and Rotten Tomatoes. Thanks again. Hey, welcome back to the podcast. I really hope you enjoy this episode and if you'd like to hear more stories like these with a different background sound, please check the description to check out my other two podcasts. And if you want to get rid of all of the ads, you can subscribe for just $2.99 a month. Last thing I really appreciate you being here and I'd really love if you would follow the podcast and come back again soon. Thank you so much. I hope you enjoy. Lately, members of my family, including me, have been seeing things. Shadowy figures just out of view in the corners of our eyes. We only catch them for a split second before they vanish and it's not new. Even before I was born, back in our old apartment, my family had moments like this. We've always had stories. Weird ones. It's made us wonder if something is following us. Not tied to a house, but to us. Maybe it's not that every place we live is haunted. Maybe we're the ones being haunted. Maybe we have a second shadow. This past week, I've had a strange feeling. Not just fear, paranoia. Like something's watching me. I know it sounds cliche. I used to roll my eyes when people said things like that. But that changes when you feel it for yourself. When the only thing you hear at night is your bare feet on a cold floor heading to the bathroom. When the silence feels too still. When you're walking down a hallway and suddenly you feel like the space behind you is closing in. One night I was in the kitchen washing dishes after dinner. The window in front of the sink reflects the hallway behind me. And I always used to check who's walking in. I was focused on finishing up a few more plates, wipe the counters, head to bed. Then, out of nowhere, I felt this urge. Not fear, not panic. Just a need to glance at the living room. I looked. For a split second I saw a large, hunched figure standing in front of my parents door. Then it disappeared. I froze. Stared at the spot. Nothing. I brushed it off. That's all I could do. I went to my room. Darkness. I walked over to the window where I had fairy lights draped over the curtains. I grabbed the plug, reached down to find the outlet. I knew exactly where it was. My hand was already there, but the plug would not go in. I realized I hadn't turned around in about a minute. And that's when the thought hit me. What if something is standing right behind me? I didn't turn. I didn't move fast. I did not breathe louder. Because I've had this rule since I was little. If I don't show fear, it won't hurt me. So I stayed steady, calm, trying not to tremble. And that's when I heard it. A bark. Loud and sharp. It shattered the silence. Kane, I whispered. I stepped out of my room and into the hallway. Kane, our German shepherd, was in the laundry room where he sleeps in the winter. The door was open so he could see into the hallway. He barked again when he saw me. His ears perked up, eyes wide, and then softened a little, like he was relieved. But I knew that look. He had been on alert. That wasn't the only time. Another night, I had to grab something from the dark living room. The King. The kitchen has two large windows, and if you're outside you can look right in. And I bent over to pick up my phone and bark. I jumped and spun around. Kane was staring straight into the living room, not moving, not blinking. And that bark. It wasn't startled. It was not playful. If you've had dogs, you know the sound. This was serious, protective, the kind of bark that says something is in there. I don't like it, and I don't think you will either. It chilled me.

[B]

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Hasn't done it lately, but he has barked in the laundry room late at night, sometimes more than once. Sometimes for no reason at all. I know some people believe dogs can see spirits, and I am one of those people. Honestly, I'm not saying there isn't a logical explanation. But when it happens more than once, when you see something and your dog sees it too, the idea of it being a coincidence starts to feel less and less likely until eventually there's only one explanation left. Early one chilly and frosty winter morning, I had a dream. Vivid, detailed, and unlike any that I'd ever had before. And the moment I woke up, I knew in my heart that it was true. In the dream, I wasn't in the room. I was hovering above a close friend of mine's bed, simply watching. He was lying down but very aware of my presence. He gestured toward the door, trying to get my attention. There was a black lighter down there and he was motioning for me to hand it to him. For a split second second, I actually tried, but I immediately realized I couldn't. I wasn't really there. I was just a presence watching. Even though we weren't speaking, we could somehow communicate. I told him I was sorry that I couldn't help him, not physically. He tried to roll toward the edge of the bed to grab it himself, but but it was like one whole side of his body just wouldn't work. He gave up, turned his head back toward me and tried to speak, but his words were slurred, garbled. I couldn't make out what he was saying at all. And then he started to fade out of focus. The dream ended. I left the room and woke up. As soon as I opened my eyes, I sat up and shook my boyfriend awake. I think Roy just died, I told him. I watched him die in my dream just now. It was around 6:30 in the morning. After that, we got up and went about our day. We had already made plans to meet some friends at our local park that morning, so we stuck to the plan and went into town a few Hours later, around 10am I was sitting on the grass with one of my girlfriends eating a cinnamon roll while our boyfriends were off grabbing snacks or just walking around. As I licked the icing off my fingers and squinted at her in the morning sun. I said something strange, something I had never said before in my life. This is going to sound really weird, but I need a favor. She gave me a funny look. Sure. What is it? I have this thing about dead bodies, I said. I can't touch them. Like, I just can't. So I'm going to need you to check and make sure my friend is dead before I call 911. She blinked at me. What the hell are you talking about? I told her about the dream. Told her what I saw. Told her that I was pretty sure Roy had died and that I needed to check. Her jaw dropped. Are you being serious right now? Is this like a gift that you have or something? I mean, not that I've ever known of, I said. But we can't just leave him in there. We need to go find out. She nodded slowly, stood up and said, okay, let's go. Roy lived just a short walk from the park. We went straight over and started knocking on his door. No answer. I told her we should try the side entrance, the French doors near his bedroom, and peer through the glass. She agreed. We hopped his little white picket fence and crept around the house. There he was, lying on his back still, just like I saw in the dream. My friend tried the door. It was unlocked. She went inside to check him and placed her fingers on his wrist. He is ice cold, she said quietly. We stepped back out and called 911. The police and fire truck arrived within minutes after they confirmed he had passed. The coroner showed up soon after my friend left, but I stayed. I needed to hear what they had to say. The coroner examined him and estimated that Roy had been dead for about four to five hours, which, if you're keeping track, puts the time of death right around when I had the dream, around 6:30am Weeks passed before we heard the result of the autopsy. The cause of death, a massive stroke. That explained why he couldn't move or speak properly in the dream. He was trying to tell me something, but he couldn't. To this day I still wish I knew what he was trying to say to me, and I still don't understand how or why I saw what I saw. I only know one thing for sure. It was not just a dream. I'm not sure what just happened or what I just saw, but I don't think I was supposed to see it. Or rather, I don't think I was supposed to be out there at that moment. I feel sick. I'm shaking. I'm sweating. And I'm weak. I don't really remember how I got back inside, but my wife does. She's been filling me in. I've been laid off seasonally and have been focusing on being home with the kids while my wife works. I'm an artist, so I fill in any spare time with commissions and do what I can to contribute. I know there's no shame in being a stay at home dad, but it helps me to know that I'm still helping financially. All in all, I love it. We have two kids under 2 years old and things, believe me, get hectic. There's so much that needs doing that it's easy to fall behind. So my wife and I take turns. One of us focuses on the house and the kids, the other on work. You could call it traditional values. Then again, I'm a man and I love what I do. It's not easy. Anyone who says staying home isn't a real job either doesn't have kids or has never done it themselves. You go into autopilot. Every quiet moment, nap times, snack times, short breaks, becomes a window to do chores or work. You never really rest, so when your partner walks through the door at the end of the day, it's like a wave of relief washes over you. That particular night I was trying to get ahead. I spent the day deep cleaning and juggling the kids, hoping to earn myself an easier week. I hadn't really eaten much and I hadn't rested at all. My wife was working late and I had barely seen her that morning, so I was excited for her to get home. I had fed the kids, tidied the house and had dinner ready for both of us. The plan was to relax together. A quiet night. Just usually she got home, we put the kids to bed and thankfully they fell asleep quickly. For the first time all day, everything was still. The air outside was cold in a refreshing way. Crisp and damp early in the year with melting snow clinging to everything. I like to go out onto the balcony after dinner just to breathe in the winter air, clear my head. But when I grabbed the back door handle, something strange happened. I got zapped. Not a normal little static pop. This shot through my whole body from my feet to my armpits. I shook it off, opened the door and stepped out. And that's when I felt it. The air outside side was charged, humming almost. There was a strange glow on the horizon. A light that I couldn't explain. I looked up at the sky above our apartment and the empty lot that borders our fence and I saw a constellation that I didn't recognize, but something about it was off. As I watched, the stars break began to move. They stayed in formation but vibrated slightly, like they were flickering. Then they started to pull inward, closing the space between them, becoming more compact. And then, without warning, they moved. The lights shot across the sky, directly over my head, in total silence, like lightning without thunder. Fast, blinding, precise. And that's when my vision tunneled. Everything got dim. My legs gave out. I felt dizzy, sick. And then I blacked out. When I came to, I was soaked in cold sweat. My wife was leaning over me, worried. I asked her what time it was, and she said, 12:30. What's wrong? I asked. You tell me. You don't remember? No. I was outside. I saw something. The stars. I thought you came in about 20 minutes after you went out. She said. You said you saw something flashing in the sky. Then you went to bed and passed out. But when I came in, you were curled up at the foot of the bed and I couldn't wake you. I was really starting to panic. As she was explaining this, a sudden pain hit me, sharp and burning under my left armpit. It radiated down my side, the same spot that I had felt initial shock from the doorknob. I got up and went to the bathroom to check. And that's when we both saw it. Under my armpit was a deep, bruised mark. Geometric. Three circles arranged in a perfect triangle, just like the constellation I had seen in the sky. Not scratches, not a rash. These were bruises almost stamped into my flesh. I had no memory of it, no clue how they got there. My wife was stunned. There was nothing sharp near the bed, nothing I could have rolled onto. No way. That injury just happened by accident. And there's nothing electrical by the door. No wires, no outlets, nothing that could have caused a shock like that. We ended up calling the landlord and telling him a simplified version of what happened. Just that I got shocked by the back door. He didn't think it was an electrical issue either. And now I'm back in bed, still nauseous, still rattled. My mind keeps dreaming, drifting back to those lights in the sky. That shape, that pattern, that movement. And those bruises. Three perfect dots deep in my flesh. Still burned when I touch them. I don't know what just happened to me, but I'm starting to think I was not meant to see it. I live in the far north of Scotland and disturbing things have washed ashore. For the past two and a half years, I've been living in the far north of the Scottish Highlands. And when I say north, I mean as far north as you can possibly go. I live in a region called Caithness, in the small coastal town of Thurso, the northernmost town on the British mainland. I'd always dreamed of living in the Highlands. It seemed like the perfect escape from my gloomy hometown in Yorkshire, England. So when my dad and his partner bought an old house up here, I jumped at the opportunity. They told me about the seals and otters in the river, dolphins and orcas in the sea.

[B]

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[A]

you tell yourself no one wants your college era band tees, but on Depop, people are searching for exactly what you've got. You once paid a small fortune for them at merch stands. Now a teenager who calls them vintage will offer that same small fortune back. Sell them easily on Depop. Just snap a few photos and we'll take care of the rest. Who knew your questionable music taste would be a money making machine? Your style can make you cash. Start selling on Depop, where taste recognizes taste and even the northern lights that sometimes painted the night sky. It sounded magical. But not long after I arrived, I realized this wasn't the idyllic retreat I had imagined. Living here. Really living here is nothing like a summer postcard. The cold, hard, harsh coastal winds, the isolation, the strange energy in the air. This place doesn't feel alive. It feels like purgatory. And at times it feels cursed. That might sound like superstition, but I've seen things disturbing things that have washed up on shore. And each one has felt worse than the last. It started just a couple months after I moved here. I often explored the coastline with my dog Macy, a small black and white border collie One windy, rainy day, we followed a trail along the cliffs east of Thurso, beyond the ruins of an old castle down on the rocks. We came around a bend and there, scattered across the bedrock, were dozens of dead sea birds. They were everywhere, as if they had fallen straight from the sky. I assumed they had crashed against the cliffs or had been swept into the sea by a storm. It felt eerie, like some kind of warning. I didn't want to press my luck, so I turned back. The next day, a woman with her young daughter and a dog, a dog that looked exactly, exactly like Macy stopped me in the rain. She shouted across the road, warning me not to go toward the coast. There was a sign posted warning about a bird flu outbreak. It was deadly to birds and contagious to dogs. I was immediately worried. Macy had sniffed some of the dead birds the day before. I thanked her and went to see the sign for myself. Sure enough, there it was. Bright yellow, marked with biohazard symbols. I turned around, uneasy already fearing the worst. Thankfully, Macy was fine. But what stuck with me wasn't just the warning. It was the woman. Her dog was identical to my mine. She had come from the path I was heading toward. It felt like I was seeing a mirror version of myself pulling away from something dangerous. Like the universe had sent me an omen disguised as a coincidence. A year later, in the summer, Macy and I took a walk along Thurso's main beach. It stretches across the entire bay, covered in heaps of rotting seaweed that stink of sulfur and draw swarms of flies. Still, I loved that on clear days you could see one of the Orkney Islands on the horizon. But on foggy days it would vanish completely, like it had never existed. That day, Macy wandered off, nose to the ground, and stopped abruptly. I walked over to see what she had found. And lying atop the seaweed was a skeleton. I thought it was a sheep or a goat, probably from one of the farms on Orkney that had washed across the sea. But as I looked closer, I felt something shift in my stead stomach. The top half of the body was clean bone, polished and picked white. But the bottom half was intact. Wet gray fur clung to muscular legs. The hooves were still there. The flesh was fresh. The way it was laid out disturbed me most of all. Arms and legs splayed wide, almost human in form. With the skeletal torso and the goat like lower half, it resembled something unholy. It reminded me of Baphomet. It looked like a symbol, a warning, something ancient or worse, intentional. And once again I couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than just something washed ashore. It felt like an omen. And not long after that day, my personal life took a dark turn. What happened I won't get into, but I can say that skeleton was the last moment of calm before everything around me fell apart. Six months later, it was winter. I was still reeling from what had happened in my personal life. The aftermath of that omen was still fresh, but I had reached a turning point. I had just ended a long distance relationship, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe again. So on Boxing Day, I packed a lunch, grabbed my coat and set off alone on a long hike. The cliff trail east of Thurso is rugged and beautiful, but also treacherous. I started at 6am and walked all day. As the sun began to set, I stumbled across something unexpected. What looked like a ghost town. It was an abandoned port settlement. Crumbling stone houses scattered across the landscape and the ruins of an ancient round tower. I later learned it was the Castletown Heritage Center, a forgotten little tourist spot I had walked so far. I was now about 10 miles from Thurston. Beyond the settlement stood the towering cliffs of Dunnet Bay. They were enormous compared to the ones I had already hiked. My legs ached, but I was determined to reach them before turning back. That was my mistake. By the time I reached the edge of the bay, it was pitch black. I knew I had to head back. Retracing my steps on the cliff trail at night would be dangerous, especially with the tide rising. I turned around and passed back through the ghost town, now lit only by my phone's flashlight. That's when I noticed the van. A small white van had pulled up. Three or four young men. Men were standing around a trash can. They were burning something. I couldn't tell what it was. Every time I looked back, one of them was staring at me. I hurried on, leaving the town behind. I tried to follow my own footprints back along the beach. It was so dark I could barely see. Then, ahead of me, I saw something. A silhouette. It looked like a boulder. At first I wasn't sure. I got closer. Still no shape I could recognize. My flashlight wasn't strong enough to reach it. I nudged it with my foot. It was soft. Startled, I backed up and finally shined my light on it. And what I saw stopped me cold. It was a seal pup. Dead. Its body was mostly intact, except for one thing. It had a massive bite taken out of it. The wound was almost circular, regular and far too clean. But worse. Far worse. The pup was missing its skull. Not its head, its skull. The skin was there, empty, like something had slipped the bone out from inside. And then I found another. The same size, the same shape, the same wound, the same missing skull. I know orcas hunt seals in these waters, and some say their bodies can tumble in the surf and lose their heads. Others blame scavengers. Maybe those are the answers. But both of them, the same shape, the same size, same wound, the same eerie absence of bone. It didn't feel natural. It didn't feel random. And while I don't believe this was an omen, I do believe it meant something, something about this place. I have lived here for two and a half years, years now, and I don't think I'll be here much longer. I have seen so much beauty here, but also so much death. So many reminders that the edges of the world are not peaceful. They are unsettling. They are where lost things drift. Sometimes literally and sometimes not. People come here from all over. Many leave. Some never do. Some come here to disappear, to hide. Some are sent here ex cons, drifters, people with nowhere else to go. It's cold, cold. It's dark. And for many it feels like the last stop before the end. If you ever visit, do it in the summer. Stay near the light, Stay near people. But if you have demons of your own, if you're running from something, whatever you do, stay away. This just happened yesterday during church. My mom, my oldest brother and I all consider ourselves to be discerning people, not only in the sense of reading others, but in the sense of knowing if something is wrong spiritually. It affects us mentally and we might feel anxious, fearful or stressed when it happens. My family and I are not in any way new to the paranormal realm and have many stories of encountering things. Shadow people, demons, ghosts, whatever you want to call them. It's never pleasant seeing one. I recall being told a story by my mom about a time when her and my oldest brother were watching TV in the living room together, when out of nowhere, a dark figure ran out from the hallway and ducked behind the couch. Did you see that? My brother asked. And that's when my mom realized she wasn't seeing things. But since my second oldest brother liked being silly and doing stuff like that to scare us or make us laugh, my mom called out for him. He was in his room to shift back to what I said in my first sentence and the main reason why I'm writing all this. Here's what happened not too far away from the small town I live in is another small town with a church my family decided to check out one day. We've been searching for a church to continuously go to and possibly become a member of, and today was our second time going, and my first. We drove through gloomy weather for about 20 minutes before finally arriving. The main area was well lit with chandeliers hanging from a wooden ceiling, and we found our seats in an area of the room with an adequate amount of chairs to suit our family. My mom, dad and I sat in the three connected chairs, then my three brothers sat on the three chairs in front of us. Behind us was a wall and about three to five chairs with one singular chair in the corner to my left. The service was fine aside from the fact that I could barely see the pastor the entire time, but I guess that's what happens when you sit in the back to step back a little. A few minutes after we arrived and found our seats, I noticed a woman sitting in the chair in the corner. I glanced at her for while a a moment, but not enough to decipher what she was wearing or what clothes she had on. I remember feeling sad for her and thinking that woman is sitting by herself. But since I am too shy to invite anyone to sit with us or to smile at someone in the middle of a church service to let them know that I see them now at McDonald's.

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