A (0:00)

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.

B (0:53)

I hope you enjoy. So Some Exposition this story takes place in northern illinois back in 2007. Ish. I was about 16 at the time and we had moved into a developing neighborhood that was up and coming. The land of the neighborhood was hilly, covered in woods and led down to a small lake. Down by the lake there were some houses that had been there for years and were separate from the company that built our place. The neighborhood was exactly what my family was looking for. The lots were sizable and not too close to each other, and most still harbor quite a bit of woods, perfect for maintaining some privacy and getting in touch with nature, all without being too removed from society. At least that's how it was in our small cul de sac at the time of this story. There was our home and two other houses on our road, one of those being the model home for the development company. Our cul de sac emptied onto the main vein of the neighborhood, which was a steep, forested road without any street lamps save for the one at the end of our street. It was a really neat road that led all the way down to the lake, and my family actually hiked it often. It made for a beautiful walk despite its hills. We had been living there for about a year or two when I had a weird, maybe mundane, encounter. Some further exposition we had two dogs, a boisterous, reckless, independent rat terrier named Belle and a sheepish, shy, but very noisy Shetlands sheepdog named Zuri. They were amazing dogs that brought so much love and joy into our lives, but also some occasional stress. Zuri, the Sheltie was a nervous dog that barked at her own shadow. She was very sweet and wouldn't hurt a fly, but would certainly alert everyone about its existence. This habit of overreacting went terribly with Belle's tendency to find trouble. See, Belle wasn't the most well trained dog in the world. She was feisty despite her size and did not back down from, well, anything. She had a habit of cornering our previous neighbor's Great Dane if given the chance. And although she never outright attacked anything, she was always acting brash and aggressive when it came to other dogs and wildlife. Even when people came into or near the house, she always had something to say, usually via loud barking. She was a spunky one, that Belle. We didn't have a fence yet, therefore letting the dogs out at night was sometimes unnerving. Raccoons were something we saw occasionally being in the middle of the woods. The thought of Belle tearing up a raccoon, completely ignoring my pleas for her to stop, was all too real. If she picked a fight with the wrong animal, it could end badly. That fear was always in the back of my mind when letting her out. In all reality, I should have always leashed her. But she had a habit of not wanting to go when on the leash, and a majority of the time nothing happened anyway, so I didn't. One of the ways I mitigated my risk is taking the dogs out the front door and letting them do their thing in the front yard. Our backyard was pretty wooded, but our front lawn was just grass and landscaping. From our porch, you could see the whole cul de sac. There was the house at the end of the loop and then the model home at the start of the road, illuminated by the lone streetlight. There was still woods in the lots across from us that Belle could zoom off into, though, which unfortunately, one night she did. She had her nose to the ground one moment looking to do her business, and then the next she was at full attention, glaring into the darkness beyond before peeling off. Zuri, ever jumpy and always ready to bark at the smallest disturbance, made a commotion as I raced after Belle. I was frantically yelling, crying and begging for her to come back. As I zipped across the road. I was ready to dive into the brush to rescue my tiny, foolish dog, but instead saw her stomping along the treeline, hackles up and bossily smelling for something. Whatever she had charged after had taken off upon seeing her coming. Thank goodness I scooped her up and scolded her, carrying her back home in a spooked huff. I had been seriously shaken up from the whole ordeal, possibly because I hadn't seen her take off like that in a while. Usually she was really good for me in the front yard. Well, good for Belle. She was just too confrontational for her own good. It was the following night that I was watching Belle like a warden. I was standing right next to her in the front yard, monitoring for any body language that threatened she was about to take off. Luckily, she usually was pretty obvious when she was about to charge. Both dogs were sniffing around, taking their time, when I lifted my gaze to look around the night. It was early autumn, and the sound of wind rustling the trees was all around me. Other than that, it was calm and quiet. I was studying the treeline along our cul de sac when my eyes finally found the model home and thus the street lamp. That's when I saw it. My heart bludgeoned against my chest in a sudden jolt of terror, and I wrestled with disbelief, unable to process what I was seeing. There, lurching and shifting and lumbering along the road as though the lamp was spotlighting him, was a pale, naked person. I use those verbs, but they aren't exactly right. The way this person moved defies common description. It was rough and sloppy, but yet eerily smooth and effortless. If anyone is familiar with Voldo from Soul Calibur, that is the closest example of its movements that I can think of. They were tall, easily over six feet, and their limbs looked to be too long for their body, which made their strange dance across the pavement all the more unsettling. I say dance because the way they moved was more akin to that than walking. It was gaudily flinging its arms forward, then heaving its legs after in large arcs, clumsy but defyingly fluid as it lurked along. One glaring detail pierced my senses. It looked as if they were completely devoid of any facial features. This person, this swaying, white, sickly person, did not seem to have a face. Nothing at all. Maybe it was a mask. I gawked in horror as the figure carried steadily along its route, passing right by our cul de sac and down the wooded steep blackness of the main road that laid ahead. They never once seemed aware of me, but I was blaringly aware of them. Then, all too fast and violently, I remembered the little argumentative, confrontational dog at my feet and her very noisy sister. I dove for Belle and swept her up, overcome with terror. As my nerves were electrified, I bounded to the porch and opened the door to drop her inside, shutting it in a snap. All I could think of was Zuri spotting the person and barking, earning their attention. I ran to the sheltie, and by some miracle she was none the wiser to the visitor, just my alarmed state. I too picked her up and fled inside. My room was upstairs with a similar vantage of the cul de sac, and I sprang up the steps, daring to get one last glimpse of the naked, faceless person. By the time I parted my blinds and pressed my face against the window, terrified but curious, there was nothing but the street lamp against the inky dark. Whatever it was, they were gone. I always let the dogs out in the backyard after that. Here are some theories. A possibility is that it was some streaker getting their kicks in, but there are a few problems with that explanation. First, although the texture of the person seemed flesh, like it seemed rubbery at the same time, almost shiny. I suppose they could have oiled themselves up, but it still seemed a bit too off to just be skin. That and its lack of face. Streakers can't just take off their facial features like an article of clothing. This leads to my strongest theory. Someone running around in a white morph suit. This would mark all the boxes that didn't get checked in the streaker theory, but it still doesn't adequately explain everything for me. The uncanny length of the limbs, the jarring, unnatural way it moved, the insurmountable dread that seized me. But fear is an unreliable narrator as it goes. What do you think? Weird but innocent? Thrill seeker or something more paranormal? I am 23 years old now, but I still remember this experience. I am a male and was in, I think first grade about six or seven years old. On Halloween night my parents took my little sister and I trick or treating and I remember feeling super excited. Halloween was always one of my favorite holidays. I remember we went to the rich people's neighborhood because they always gave out the most candy. I remember I got a bit too excited and went on ahead on my own. And as a kid I was so amazed at everyone's costume. I would often go up to random people, look at them and compliment them on their costume. I know it wasn't a good idea to do so, especially being on my own, but I was a kid so I didn't know any better. One of the people had a scary mask on and I was blown away on how cool it looked and I had to tell them, so I did. I went up to him and told him how much I liked his mask and he just stared at me for a few seconds. He pulled out his arm and grabbed onto My hand with a tight grip. I tried to pull away but he wasn't letting go. Instead, he continued to keep walking while holding onto me. I was so terrified that this stranger wasn't letting go and was taking me somewhere. I started screaming, but with crowds and crowds of people, nobody realized what was going on. I was looking all over the place trying to find my parents and I managed to see my mom in the crowd not too far behind me. She also saw me and was calling out while trying to get through the crowd. The stranger must have noticed because he immediately let go and took off. Very quickly I caught up to my mom and for some reason I decided not to tell her. It was only until a few years ago when I brought it up and she said that I never told her about it and was surprised about what I went through. It is a scary thought knowing that people out there kidnap kids and do really bad things. I was very lucky to have found my mom when I did. Who knows what would have happened. This just happened to me. Once I got off work I went straight to bed and that was around 4 or 5 o' clock in the afternoon. I guess you can say I'm a night owl because my job schedule varies throughout the week. Either I'm working at night or I'm working in the morning. This day I had to work in the morning so I stayed up the night. Earlier. I Woke up around 9pm I got up to talk to the family, watched some TV and then started getting tired again. This was around 1am and I decided to go back to bed and I actually felt the weight of sleeping this time. Once I got my bed ready, I put YouTube on for a little background noise and just started to drift off. Then all of a sudden everything was quiet. Then I dreamed about waking up in a building. A building I have dreamt of before, but not for a long time. I was laying on a sleeping bag in a decrepit room with no furniture. I wasn't scared but confused. The door leading outside suddenly swings open and someone walking in, then slamming it shut. Then I was automatically pushed out of the dream as if I was jolted awake. I was laying there thinking maybe I was just experiencing sleep apnea and tried to get up but I couldn't. I couldn't move my arms, my legs. It's like I left my body for the next minute of what I'm about to tell you. I have had experience with sleep paralysis before, but not to this extent. Once I knew my body went numb, I started to panic, started to breathe heavily it was unbearably longer than it should have been for me. It would last around 30 seconds at most. And I haven't even experienced the large weight on my chest yet. That's what I was actually waiting for. And I guess my body was trying to prepare for it because the dread was like a sharp knife point and it just kept jabbing me each passing second. Then I stopped breathing because what happened next made my heart stop and my blood cold. In close proximity of my ear, I heard someone say, hey. It sounded like a woman whispering in my ear. I was so disturbed. I tried to call out for help, but I knew that couldn't work because I couldn't even breathe out a syllable. I tried to break free of this invisible bind, but I gave up and I knew I had to rough through it. The next thing I know, something sits on my chest. But it wasn't the normal weight I would experience in these episodes. It was something lighter that felt less aggressive. It felt like fingertips caressing across my chest in a sensual way. Laying down on my right pec, it was followed by a leg wrapping itself on the front of my thighs. The next thing I know, the left side of my body was being weighed upon like someone would be cuddling up next to me. Just for the record, I don't have a girlfriend and I doubt anyone in my house would start sneaking into my room at night. I was frightened and confused. I still couldn't move. Then the voice came back. What are you doing? It said in a very quiet, sincere tone. I didn't know what was happening, but I knew I had to respond. So as calmly as I could, I said, I'm trying to sleep. That's when I noticed my face can move and my hands can move. But I refused to open my eyes because I didn't care for what there was to see. The next thing I knew, the weight on my left side started to diminish and my body can move again. So I shot up, looked around the room. No one is there. My senses started to come back and the sound of my computer comes back to me like it was never turned off. I didn't bother going back to sleep. I guess this is a wake up call. I need a better sleep schedule. Probably need to change a few things from now on, but my mind is still stuck on it. Was it a spirit? Was it part of the dream I was having? If it was a spirit, maybe it was just lonely and it just needed a body to lay with. Maybe it was a dream, but I don't dream that often, especially if the touch I felt is real. I don't know what to think. I guess I'll just chalk it up to a hallucination and get on with my life. This story takes place in the summer of 2001 in Southern Rhode island where I'm from. I am a female for reference and I was 20 years old that summer, in between my junior and senior years of college at the University of Rhode Island, I decided to stay on campus and take some classes so my senior year would be a little lighter and be less stressful for me. So I rented a cute little apartment with a friend near campus and we loved it. There were a lot of other college students around and I enjoyed living so close to the beach in summertime. My schedule was pretty open, so even though I was working and going to school part time, I had a lot of time to myself and loved the freedom I had to do whatever I wanted. I have always been into fitness and exercise and one of my favorite things to do that summer was take my rollerblades down to the local bike path and listen to music on my earbuds while I glided down the long straight path. Every day I would drive to the bike path and park my car at the park close by to the path and rollerblade the mile long path until it ended and where another park began. At that second park I would sometimes rest on one of the benches and take a little break and drink some water before turning back around to go down the bike path again and ending up at the original park where my car was two miles every day. It was fun and great exercise right up until this incident that I am about to chronicle for you. On this particular morning I slept in and was running late getting ready for my daily workout. I could not find my earbuds anywhere. They were not where I normally left them on the kitchen counter and after spending some time looking for them around the apartment without any luck, I just said screw it and decided to go exercise without them. I get to the park, put my rollerblades on and start my first mile. It was a beautiful July morning and I was enjoying myself when suddenly, unexplainably, about halfway through the mile, something felt very wrong. The temperature was in the 80s, but I had goosebumps all up and down my arms and legs, the hair on the back of my neck was standing up and I had an intense sinking feeling of dread in my gut. I have always had a very strong intuition. I trust it with my life. I have felt this feeling before in the past and it has always served as a warning. But I kept on skating, becoming very aware of my surroundings. Fight or flight? The flight was kicking in and I didn't even understand why that is. When I saw him. There was a man up ahead on the trail, off to the side of the path. The first thing I realized was that he was taking steps backwards off the path. He was trying to hide from me behind a tree. But I could still see his face from a good distance away, watching me like a dead eyed predator. He stood there with his hands in his front pockets, not moving at all. I skated closer to him. The dread in my stomach grew. I noticed he was not wearing workout clothes. He had on an oversized hoodie, jeans and work boots. Nothing you would wear if you were there to exercise. Now I had to quickly make a choice. Do I stop and turn around the way I came from, possibly endangering my life by losing the speed and momentum I had gained? Do I keep skating past him and hope he doesn't rush me from the side, pushing me off the path? The fear I felt turned quickly to rage. Quick backstory on me. I am no stranger to violence from my past. I thought. Why should I live my life afraid? Why should I be afraid of these men who think they can just take what they want from me? Do they think I'm just going to take it? I felt my hands ball up into fists. Fists. My jaw jut out in defiance and I decided to stand my ground. Something told me that as I passed him, that I needed to remember everything about what he looked like. I noted his dark eyes and beard, his plain blue baseball cap, his hoodie and jeans and construction boots. I could tell my nostrils were flared and my eyes were flashing anger. And I glared at him with an intensity that seemed said. I see you there and I am ready to fight you if I need to. We maintained eye contact for what felt like a long time, but could not have been more than a few seconds. Then he actually broke eye contact and looked away from me. I knew he had changed his mind about whatever he was considering doing, but I was still not safe yet. I flew as fast as I could to the second park and got off the bike path. Now I was in a tough position. My car was a mile away, as was my shoes and cell phone. I could not go back down that path again and risk passing him a second time. He might have moved. He might have been hiding in a better place, waiting for me, knowing I would need to go back down the path to get to my car. So I took off my rollerblades and made my way over to the road that ran parallel to the path and walked the mile back to my my car in my socks carrying my skates. It probably looked a little strange to the drivers that went by and that walk seemed to take forever. Once I saw my car, I ran to it as fast as I could and locked myself in and I never went back there to rollerblade again. Unfortunately, the story does not stop here. After this incident, I went on with the rest of my day. I went to class, I made lunch at my apartment, I got ready for work and went to my closing shift where I worked as a waitress. I returned to my apartment complex around 10pm to find my neighbor yelling excitedly on his cell phone in the parking lot, pacing and smoking a cigarette as he talked. He and his girlfriend lived upstairs from me. I didn't know them well, but they were friendly enough. She studied nursing and he was a business major. We had all hung out shortly after move in day, drinking beers and smoking on their balcony and I thought they would both be pretty nice people. I parked my car and started walking towards the building just as he was hanging up from his call. I nodded politely towards him and offered a friendly greeting. Something like hey, how's it going man? Seeing his face closer now under the lights, I could tell he had been crying. He told me his girlfriend was in the hospital. She had been attacked by a strange man and was recovering from some various injuries, most seriously a head injury from smacking her head on concrete. As he described to me what happened, I felt tears rising in my own eyes and I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. What I said to him next made his jaw drop. I said, did this happen on the bike path? He incredulously said yes and demanded to know how I knew that. I told him I knew who did it and I explained what happened to me that morning. He immediately asked if I could talk to the police and give a description of the man. Because of the little voice in my head that told me I needed to remember everything about his appearance, I was able to give a full detailed description of this man to the police. For months after the incident, I checked the news to see if he was ever caught, but I never heard that he was. The girl he attacked did make a full recovery and shortly after returning from the hospital, she and her parents showed up in a moving van and packed up all of her things from her apartment. I never saw her again for a long time after that. I felt a lot of guilt about what happened to her. I felt that somehow her fate was meant for me, but I had skirted it and left it for someone else to suffer through. What did I do that she didn't? The last and most chilling piece of this story. The earbuds that I had lost the morning of this incident. The ones that I had looked all over my apartment for and that I had decided to forego using that day because I didn't have the time to look. I found them the next day on the kitchen counter, exactly where they were supposed to be. I know for a fact they weren't there when I looked. And I can't explain why they disappeared that morning. I know my roommate didn't take them. I can only assume that my awareness of this situation was the thing that saved me in the end. And some higher power was looking out for me that day. I am a female, and when I was in my early 20s in the late 1970s, I drove a Volkswagen Bug that at that time had many mechanical issues. I loved that car dearly because it was the first car I ever owned, which I purchased while I was still a senior in high school. So I was determined to drive it until the engine gave out for good. At this particular time, there was an oil leak. I was too broke to actually repair the leak, but I knew exactly what to do to keep it running. I kept cans of oil and a funnel in my car at all times. When the red oil light came on, I knew I had a very small window of time to stop and add some oil. Once the oil was added, it was good to go for another week. Yeah, sounds like a lot of hassle. But I was young and stupid and broke, and that was just easier than having to come up with the hundreds of dollars it would have taken to get it fixed properly. But I didn't mind. I just got used to it. I was living in Dallas, Texas, and my parents lived about 90 miles east of Dallas in a very small town. I would visit them on weekends sometimes. At that time in my life, I was heavily into partying at clubs. So much so that there would come times when I just needed a break from all the partying and would go to spend the weekend with my parents now and again. Sometimes I just needed that break. And they were such great parents and they loved when I came to visit them. This was back in the days when work days were not flexible like they were today. If you wanted to keep a good job, you had to be there every day on time, no excuses. So I had to be at work on Monday mornings, bright and early. So now and then I would just get up early on that Monday morning and drive straight to work from my parents house. But since I was always paranoid about not getting up on Monday morning in time to make it to work on time, most times I would just drive home Sunday night. This particular trip, I drove home on a Sunday night. It was dark by the time I was on the road, but I wasn't concerned since I had my oil cans with me and knew how to change the oil quickly and easily like a Daytona 500 pit crew worker. And again, I was young and stupid and invincible as all young and stupid people think they are. My parents always worried about me driving so late in that rat trap of a car, but I assured them I was fine. So off I went, tooling down the highway about halfway home. Wouldn't you know it, the red oil light came on and by now it was pitch black outside. And of course it happened on a long stretch of highway with absolutely no towns around and no lights anywhere. But I had driven this road hundreds of times and knew exactly where the exits were. Thankfully there was an exit just up ahead and I pulled off and drove up this secluded roadway until I found a place to stop on a little side road. These little towns in Texas were way off the highway, so there was nothing around where I found myself. Not even a gas station. Nothing at all. But I was not concerned. I had my flashlight and figured I would put the oil in and be back on the highway in a few minutes. Easy peasy. My car headlights shone up on a dirt pathway in front of where I pulled my car to and I kept the headlights on as it was the only light around. This being an old vw. Oddly enough, the engines were in the back, so while the lights wouldn't help me much during my oil endeavor, I wanted some light around me at least. As I was just about to open my door and hop out to do my pit crew thing, I looked up and noticed some something in my headlights. At first I thought it was a big dog. That wouldn't have been unusual because if there was a farm further inland, they usually had dogs and the dogs always liked to roam around. I love dogs and was thinking how cute. Until I suddenly stopped and took a closer look at him. He was not a dog at all. He was a very large wolf and he did not look happy to to see me. He just sat there a few yards in front of my car and was growling at me, baring his teeth. He didn't get Up. He just sat there staring intently at me and continuously growling. My first instinct was to just drive to another area, but I knew that if I tried to do that, I would permanently damage my car engine and I would not only truly be stuck there, but I would be screwed without a car. When I say I had minimal time to stop and pour oil into that engine, I mean minimal. And I had already pushed the limit getting to the place I stopped. So I sat there wondering what I was going to do. There were no cell phones back then to just call someone to help. I was on my own. I figured I had only two risk my life trying to put oil in the engine or just sit there and wait until the wolf got bored forward and left. I opted for the ladder at first, but this creature was just spooky. He didn't move, he didn't blink. Just sat there intently staring at me and growling, showing those pointy, dangerous teeth. Not a loud growl, just a low menacing growl continuously. It was just so eerie. So I just sat in a waited. I turned off the headlights, not only to save my battery since I was not sure how long I would be there, but I thought perhaps he would leave if I turned them off. He didn't. So I waited. And waited. At least an hour went by with him just staring at me and growling. Spookiest thing I have ever seen. But I was about to have to choose option number two as I had to use the the bathroom so badly I tried to get my mind off of it. But after 30 more minutes I knew I couldn't wait any longer. He did not seem to be tiring of this strange standoff, but now I was even more fearful of getting out of my car. If he could sit like that and just stare and growl for an hour and a half, he was not a normal animal. So I spent another 10 or 15 minutes going over in my mind exactly how I was going to do this. This was the only time I was so thankful that the engine was in the back. No way would I want to be walking toward him and be closer to him while I had to deal with the oil. No idea what he might have done if I was out of the car and closer to him. I was glad I did not have to find out. So with my plan in place in my head, I slowly opened my car door. I just did things very slowly, keeping my eyes on him to see if he was going to run toward me as I slowly opened the door. Bit by bit. He never wavered in his stance or staring or growling it was so scary, I was terrified. Once I was out of the car, I walked in slow motion toward the back of the car. I kept the car door open so that if he came in my direction, I could jump back in. So slow, slowly, step by step, I walked to the back of the car. I didn't want to make any sudden movements that might set him off. Once back there, I opened the hood, unscrewed that oil cap and oil can and put in some oil. I don't even think I put in the whole can. I figured I could put enough in to get to a gas station further up the highway where it was safe. And the whole time I did this, that creepy wolf did not move, still staring at me, still growling and baring his teeth, not budging at all. Once I slowly closed the hood to the engine, I inched toward my car door. Since I would now have to walk toward him to get back in my car. I was so afraid he would take that as a threat and attack. But I made it safely to my car and slammed that door shut, turned on my car engineering, and backed up to get on the road, which would lead me to the highway. As soon as I put the car in gear to head toward the highway, I saw the creature turn around and just walk away slowly in the direction they came from. I don't know how any living thing, human or animal, could be so still and stare so intently and growl so unendingly for that long of a time. It wasn't normal or natural. I was shaking the rest of the way home. I didn't even stop to put more oil in. And thankfully my red oil light did not come back on that night. After my parents found out what happened, my father showed up at my apartment the next week with a brand new car for me. They never wanted to have to worry about me endangering my life with a faulty car ever again. And needless to say, I never took that exit off that highway ever again. This happened about 15 or 20 years ago. It was Halloween and our kids, who were probably around 8 and 10 at the time, were planning to go trick or treating that night with their friends and cousins. My sister was going to be the adult with them, and my husband and I were just going to stay home and give out the candy at our house. I had done my share of taking the kids trick or treating for many, many years and was looking forward to just staying home and handing out candy to the other neighborhood kids. We live in a very nice neighborhood on a cul de sac. We know Most of our neighbors, and while we do lock our doors at night, we had never had any issues with crime in the area. So being the victim of a crime, especially in our safe neighborhood, was the last thing on my mind. I was the first to arrive home that day, having just arrived home from work. Our kids were at my sister's house who lived a few neighborhoods over. They went there after school since she was home and I didn't like for our kids to be home alone after school. And it was so fortunate that they had not been home alone. We had a cleaning person that came to clean twice a month and that was her day to clean. She had a key to our home, so she cleaned while we were all out of the house. She did a fantastic job, but she had a habit of putting everything away to make the house look clean. I had repeatedly asked her not to, but I think she was just so set in her ways, feeling that a house just does not not look clean with things lying around. So I knew that my first half hour home would be spent trying to find the things that she put away. It would sometimes take us days to find things after she had cleaned. So I was busy trying to unwind from the workday, trying to find some things that the cleaning lady had stored away who knows where and was thinking about what to make the kids for dinner. I didn't have much time as the kids would want to go out trick or treating soon, soon. So I was a bit distracted. While I did notice a few odd things here and there in the house, I was not concerned. First, I noticed a large rock that was on the floor in the hallway area where my kitchen, dining room and laundry room meet. Odd. But I just picked it up and threw it away. I could not think of any reason for it to be there, but did not have time to ponder on it and just soon forgot about it. The next odd thing I noticed was that the long heavy stick that is normally kept standing up in the corner of the laundry room for a reason I can't even remember now, was laying across our bed in the downstairs master bedroom. I just assumed that for some strange reason the cleaning lady left it there. Again, very odd, but not concerning. I also noticed that the sliding glass door in our bedroom that opened to the backyard was slightly open. But again I was not alarmed because I assumed the cleaning lady had opened the door to shake out a rug or something and just did not close it all the way. The sliding door was not easy to slide. I had been asking my husband to fix that, but he just never got around to it. So I thought perhaps she just could not get it closed. We are in a safe neighborhood, so I was not concerned about anything more than bugs getting into the house through the open door. And we have a six foot high security fence, so it's not like anyone would even know that the door was open. Next odd thing. Just that day, a friend had asked if he could borrow our camcorder. So I went looking for it. We normally kept it on the counter below the china cabinet in the dining room. But I was not surprised when it wasn't there as I assumed the cleaning lady had put it away somewhere. But I looked everywhere I could think of that she would possibly have stored it. No luck. I had no more time to waste on looking, so I called her to ask her where she had put it. She assured me that it was on the counter where she left it. I believed her and never for a moment thought she took it. So that was strange. It was nowhere to be found. Shortly thereafter, my husband came home. A few minutes later. He asked me why there was glass on the laundry room floor. I had not even gone in there after I got home. Just walked right by that room without a glance in my haste. So I hadn't noticed it. I was bummed because that meant we had to clean it up and would have to replace the window. I didn't have time for this. Still, nothing seemed sinister to me. After cleaning up the broken glass and while my husband prepared to gather the wooden tools he would need to secure the broken window until we could get it replaced, I went back to my walk in closet to change my clothes. When I opened my jewelry box to take off my watch and rings I had worn that day, I saw that my jewelry box was completely empty. Not one thing left in it. Okay, now you have my attention. I went out to tell my husband and we were completely dumbfounded. Then I gasped as the sudden realization of what had actually happened came to me. We were robbed. I started putting all of the pieces of the puzzle together. Someone had broken the window to our laundry room with the rock I found on the floor. That window was on the side of the house so neighbors would not see them. They most likely kept the rock in their hand to use as a weapon in case there was anyone in the house. When they saw the large heavy stick in the laundry room, they figured that would make a better weapon, so just dropped the rock on the floor where I found it and continued into the house with the stronger weapon. They must have gone quickly through the house, gathering up anything small that they thought was of value. Then they left through the sliding door in the master bedroom, laying the stick on our bed before they left. Then they would have had to climb over the six foot fence in our yard to get out since both gates on the sides of the house are locked. As it was the end of October, it gets dark as early as 4:30 or 5pm so they would have had the COVID of darkness to make their escape unseen. After a search of the house there were many items missing including the camcorder, a new set of walkie talkies we had just gotten for the the kids that were kept in the cabinet above where the camcorder had been, every single piece of my jewelry and a few more small items. Nothing from the upstairs was taken so they must have been trying to be quick about it. The only satisfaction I took was that all of my jewelry, which was nice and looked expensive, was all just costume jewelry. They thought that they assumed that they had struck gold but would soon find out they would not get much for any of it and that made me smile. So we called the police and they came and took our statement. My kids and their friends were wide eyed with the police there and cops in our house and with the police car lights flashing, but my sister quickly whisked them off for their night of trick or treating. Apparently there was a full handprint on the upper window pane that the burglar broke as he must have placed his hands on the upper pane to try Brian slide it up before realizing it was locked or to push it up after he broke and unlocked the lower window pane. But those fingerprints were not in the criminal database system so it wasn't anyone that had been caught before. We never did find out who it was, but we had our suspicions that it was someone in the construction crew that had been working on one of the houses in the cul de sac for weeks so they would have seen us leave for school and work. There was nothing taken that could not be replaced and I am just so thankful that no one was home when they broke in. If my son or daughter or even my husband or I had been home alone or walked in when the intruder was in there, he most likely would have used that weapon on us. I don't think of this incident often these days, but when I do I shiver thinking about how tragic this one small home invasion could have been come the intruder holding that weapon while searching the house is proof he would have done us harm. We are so thankful that no one was home during that time. We have big dogs now and there is absolutely zero chance that anyone will be breaking into this house ever again. At least not without risking their lives. Come on in. My dogs dare you. I am a 60 year old female now, so I grew up in a much simpler world. There were no cell phones, no computers, no video games, no social media. We spent all of our playtime outside. We used something called imagination and it was a fabulous time to grow up. I was the youngest of the family. I have two sisters and one brother. We lived in a poor, small, close knit community outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania from the time I was born until I was 11 years old. My brother and my oldest sister had their own friends, so I did not really associate with them outside of our house. The sister closest in age to me, Maggie, was always stuck watching out for me. But it wasn't so bad, at least for me as all of our friends were from the neighborhood and we all knew each other. My childhood, at least from my recollection, was idyllic. Maggie may have a different perspective as the one that was forced to always have me tag along. Those were the days when children spent every weekend and summer day playing outside. We only went home for lunch and dinner and only went in for the night once the street lights came on. Our parents never worried about us getting into danger. They did worry about us doing stupid things, which we often did. But as far as being hurt by strangers, that was not a concern back then by any of the parents in the neighborhood. The kids always traveled in packs, so we were pretty safe on our own. I am sad, saddened by all of the horror stories that you hear about these days. All the creeps. And I used to just shake my head and think what has happened to this world? We never had to worry about creeps like that when I was growing up. I don't recall ever hearing anything about people like this when I was young. And we were never lectured about stranger danger the way kids need to be these days. Back then, adults were not to be feared, but were to be respected and trusted. And I did. But then I remembered three very specific incidents that happened when I was young. And I wonder if times haven't really changed much at all. I think I was just too young and naive at the time to understand the significance of what happened. Let me set the scene for the first two incidents. There was a park and a playground that was about a 15 minute walk from our neighborhood. And all of us, anywhere from about 6 to 10 kids would go there almost every day in the summer, for as long as I could remember while we lived in that city. We would stop at the local dime store on our way back to pick up whatever treats our small allowances would afford us and then just hang out at the park doing kids stuff all day long. We had many fun days at that park. There was a dark, spooky path at the back of the park that led down through the woods. All of our parents threatened us with our lives if we ever dared to go into these woods. The woods were way too dangerous a place for kids our age to be entering with no adults. The water fountain and bathrooms were located at the very edge of the woods near the path, so we would be near the entrance to the woods quite a bit, but were forbidden to ever actually go down the path to the woods at that time. It was one of those things that we were always curious about, but so far had not had the courage to actually do. We all pretended like it was because our parents forbade us to enter, but in actuality, it was because we were all too scared. It was really spooky. The first incident happened in our local park when I was around five years old. Maggie was around six and a half or seven years old. Back in those days, even the youngest kids were out and about all day with no thoughts of danger as long as we were all together. One day I was at the water fountain by myself getting a drink of water. Maggie and all of our friends were at the other end of the park. I just popped over to grab a drink and was intending to run back to my group. I hadn't even told Maggie as I was never supposed to be alone at the park. But she was busy doing something with our friends and I just didn't feel like asking her permission, so I went alone. While I was sipping water, a young man came over to me and said his puppy had run down the path into the woods and was lost. And he asked if I would help him find his puppy. He even offered to give me 50 cents if I would help rescue his puppy. Now my memory could be way off on this, but when I think of him now, I remember him as being about late teens, very early 20s, and he looked like David Koresh, if you know who that is. Anyway, hearing the words lost puppy and money, I was definitely intrigued. I had always loved puppies, but we were not allowed to own pets where we lived. Plus my weekly allowance was much lower than all of my friends allowances. And $0.50 back then was like $50. Now to a poor kid my age, I was too young to understand that someone older than me could have evil intentions. So I did not consider his request to be dangerous. My only hesitation was that if my mom found out I was into the woods, she would have my hide. Plus the fact that the woods were very spooky and I was scared to go in there, but I would be with an older person so perhaps it wouldn't be so scary. So the puppy and the money incentive won out and I took the a man's hand and we started to walk toward the path to the woods. I remember being a little scared of entering the forbidden woods and what might happen if my mom found out, but at the same time being so excited that I might actually get to hold a little puppy and have enough money to buy all of the yummy candy that I wanted. Just as we stepped on the path and were walking into the woods, my sister came running over and asked what I was doing. I explained to her that I was going to help this nice man find his lost puppy and that he was going to pay me 50 cents. She ran over and grabbed my hand and said, no you are not. She dragged me forcibly back to where our friends were hanging out and told me to never go anywhere with someone I did not know. I was crying and upset that she ruined my chance at being able to find the puppy and earn money. I don't recall exactly what happened after that. I do not know where the man went, but now assume he took off running as soon as my sister grabbed my hand. And I don't remember if I was even told just how dangerous that situation really was. She probably just told me that I would get into trouble from my mom if she found out I went into the woods. I was too young to understand the true motivations of someone like that. All I know now is that my sister literally saved my life that day. I would either have been kidnapped or worse. No matter which, my idyllic childhood and possibly my life would have vanished forever. The second incident regarding the woods was the day we all actually did walk down the path into the woods. I was probably six or seven at the time. I cannot remember what led up to us actually taking that walk into the park. But I can only imagine that there were days and probably weeks of planning and getting up the courage to do this. But we actually did it. Curiosity eventually won out. We had to know what was down that path. So off we went. Very nervous, but also excited. At first it seemed so nice and pretty and safe. We were wondering what all the fuss was about. Why Our parents didn't want us in there. But after about five or ten minutes down the path, the woods got thicker, which made the sky darker, until soon we were in the midst of a very scary spooky forest and we did not see anyone else on the path. We had no idea where the path led to, so we weren't sure how long it would take to get to the other side. One by one, we started losing our bravado. But no one wanted to be the first. First to be called chicken. But we were city kids and had never actually been into the woods or forest, so this was all new and creepy. After about 20 minutes of trudging into the ever more scary forest, hearing wildlife sounds we were not used to, and worrying about what else was in the woods that might jump out at us, we started discussing whether we should turn around or keep going. We were struggling with what to do as we had come this far far and not to find out what was on the other end of the path was going to bother us. We were really spooked by the fact that there were no other people walking along the path. Either way, we know we had seen people enter the path to the woods before, so why wasn't there anyone now? We would have been so happy to see other people, to know we were not going to die in these woods alone. But there was no one. It was getting much too dark for a us to bear. And without knowing how much further the path went on, and actually not even knowing where we would end up if we did take the path to the end, we all came to an agreement that we would turn around and head back. Just when we turned around and started walking back the way we came, we noticed a group of people walking toward us. Wow, were we ever glad to see them. We all let out sighs of relief and even briefly discussed how we would follow them and actually take the trail to the other end after all. But the closer we came to the group of people, the more worried we became. It was a group of about five or six older teenagers, girls and boys, and they did not look friendly. We collectively made our way to the right side of the path, heads down, hoping they would not pay attention to us and would just leave us alone. But that was not to be. They started harassing us us and were reaching out like they were going to hit us, which would make us flinch and they would laugh. I was the youngest of the group and I was terrified. Some of them actually took swings at some of the others in my group and we were no match for these older kids, I was crying and everyone was yelling and I was afraid we were all going to be beat to a pulp. I was so confused. I did not understand why they would want to hurt us. They didn't even know us and we had done nothing to make them mad at us. Just as things were getting really bad, thankfully there were some adults coming down the path and they ran over to see what was going on. The older kids that were bothering us started running in the opposite direction and we were finally safe. That's twice I was spared unknown horrors by the hands of strangers. Our rescuers made sure we were okay and actually walked with us back to the park where we first entered the woods to make sure we made it out safely. Needless to say, we never went back into those woods again. The third incident occurred when I was a few years older, probably around 7 or 8. I was walking down a small alley near our neighborhood with one of my best friends and her husky dog. I will preface this by saying that I was a very naive, an innocent kid, while thankfully my friend was much more street smart. A car pulled up slowly beside us and the driver was a middle aged, nondescript looking man. Well, I say middle aged because in my young mind anyone older than 20 was old. He could have been in his 20s for all I know. His window was rolled down and he had said something in a low voice to us. I had no idea what he was saying saying, but my friend just ignored him and told me to keep walking. I thought she was being very rude and as I said before, I was taught to always treat adults with respect. So I stopped and got closer to the passenger side window which was rolled down and asked him what he said. He repeated, would you guys like to play with this? I saw he had his hands in his lap holding something, but I could not see what it was. I assumed it must have been a toy or something. I have no idea. He asked us again if we would like to play with this. As I got in closer to get a better look, my friend grabbed my arm and said let's go. And we turned around and started walking back in the opposite direction that the car was facing, back toward home. I was very confused, but my friend knew that to try to explain, explain the facts of life to me right then was not something she wanted to do. So she just told me he was a very bad man that meant to do us harm. I had absolutely no idea what she meant and why she thought he was dangerous, but we never spoke of it again. That I can recall. I didn't even realize exactly what that entire incident meant until I was much older and thought of it again. So third time's a charm. I was yet again rescued from a situation that could have forever changed my life. It haunts me, even today, to think of how just a few short moments could have changed my life forever.