Scary True Stories Told In The Rain | Ep. 450

Summary

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Scary True Stories Told In The Rain | Ep. 450

Scary Stories and Rain | Host: Being Scared
Date: August 8, 2026

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Episode Overview

This episode of Scary Stories and Rain delivers a curated selection of true, unsettling accounts, each recounted in a calm, immersive style, enhanced by the soothing background of rain. The stories range from chilling encounters with potential intruders and stalkers, to brushes with predatory strangers, to dangerous run-ins both offline and online. The episode’s purpose is to create a space for cathartic storytelling—exploring the tension of vulnerability, near-misses, and lingering fears—offering solidarity for listeners who may have similarly unsettling memories.

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Key Discussion Points & Story Breakdowns

1. The Stranger in the Mountain Mist

[01:25 – 10:15]

• Setting: Isolated mountain home; thick mist, woods, only eight people in the family household, no nearby neighbors.
• Incident: At night, the narrator notices a human silhouette outside the window. The man claims his car was stolen and he needs help, but becomes suspiciously insistent that police not be called.
• Escalation: The family offers to call the cops; the stranger awkwardly tries to leave with a rusty tricycle, which comically doesn’t work, raising the eeriness.
• Resolution: The police arrive but find nothing. The family, on edge, never sees the stranger again. The event remains a comical yet unsettling “what if” in hindsight.

Notable Quote:

“My dad offers a rusty metal tricycle from our porch so that he can go downtown as a joke. The guy accepts this offer and grabs the tricycle." (07:14)

Insight:
The story plays on the tension of isolation, the unknown intentions of a visitor, and the thin line between absurdity and danger—outweighing the initial terror with a reflectively comical perspective.

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2. Predatory Co-worker at the Greek Restaurant

[11:33 – 25:10]

• Setting: New job at a Greek restaurant; narrator is a 19-year-old woman mistaken for being much younger.
• Main Characters: The Host (narrator), her manager, and a predatory middle-aged male co-worker.
• Creepy Behavior: Staring, overly personal questions, following her into an isolated storage unit, leaving his number, and ultimately stalking her after her shift.
• Climax: The man follows her to the bus stop at night and tries to coerce her into his car, only departing when her bus arrives.
• Aftermath: Reporting to police results in no action. The narrator quits her job and expresses fear for her safety.

Notable Quote:

“Get in the car now.” (21:48)

Memorable Moment:
Her bus’s arrival at the crucial moment serves as a narrow escape from a potentially grave situation.

Insight:
The story highlights vulnerability in the workplace, the failure of systems to protect, and the acute fear of stalking and boundary violations—especially for young women.

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3. Sirens and the Middle School Lurker

[25:10 – 29:00]

• Setting: School grounds under renovation; World War II-era sirens tested.
• Incident: The narrator is cornered in an abandoned school building by a creepy older student (Paul), while sirens blare too loudly for anyone to hear.
• Intervention: Saved by an older friend who kicks the perpetrator, providing the chance to escape.
• Aftermath: The gravity of the situation only becomes fully clear in hindsight as an adult.

Notable Quote:

“Because of the sirens, no one would have been able to hear me scream.” (27:28)

Insight:
This narrative explores trust, bystander intervention, and the danger of dismissing “pranks” or odd behavior, particularly where isolation meets opportunity.

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4. Militia Encounter in the Alaskan Wilderness

[29:05 – 36:25]

• Setting: Isolated Alaskan mountains; narrator is camping solo.
• Incident: Woken by voices, discovers she’s inadvertently trespassed on private militia land. Armed men search for her, shouting violent threats.
• Escape: She hides, evades discovery, and later finds her gear destroyed as a “warning” at her car.
• Reflection: She emphasizes lessons learned regarding wilderness safety and the real threat of rural isolation.

Memorable Moment:

“When we find you, you’re dead. You’re on private militia property and trespassers get shot.” (31:20)

Insight:
A meditation on youthful overconfidence, the true dangers of the wilderness—not just wildlife but people—and the importance of caution in remote surroundings.

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5. Runaway, Motel, and ’Offender’

[36:40 – 39:40]

• Setting: Narrator and sister are runaway teens living in motels.
• Incident: The 15-year-old narrator goes to a stranger’s room for free alcohol, discovers his ID reveals “offender” status. Another man enters.
• Narrow Escape: The narrator invents an excuse to leave, avoids returning, and wonders how close she came to irreversible harm.

Notable Quote:

“He replied, ‘What do you think it means?’” (38:55)

Insight:
Emphasizes how naivety and lack of street-smarts can place runaways in dire peril.

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6. Social Media Stalker: ‘Rob’

[39:41 – 49:25]

• Setting: Teen girl meets ‘Rob’ online; over weeks messaging becomes more personal.
• Incident: He pushes for isolated in-person meetings at school, and ultimately stalks her to her house when he knows she’ll be home alone.
• Escalation: He pounds on her door, attempts to force entry, and later bombards her with abusive DMs from multiple accounts.
• Aftermath: She deletes her account, never sees him again, and only later realizes the full danger she was in.

Notable Quotes:

“He looked very angry. But then my neighbor’s car reached my house and Rob ran away, probably thinking it was my mom coming home.” (48:15)

Insight:
Classic predator grooming behavior and the subtleties of online manipulation—how easy it is for young people to be deceived despite “safe” environments like schools.

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7. Attempted Child Abduction at the Corner Shop

[50:00 – 53:30]

• Setting: Narrator, age 11, is out with mother and her boyfriend.
• Incident: Creepy man stalks them; attempts to abduct the narrator in the store, foiled by her mother.
• Aftermath: Police involvement, but the perpetrator is never found.

Notable Quote:

“All I remember at this point is the person working in the corner shop coming to ask what just happened and the man ran out of the store.” (52:22)

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8. Stalked While Working Night Shift at a Convenience Store

[53:31 – 56:09]

• Setting: Female convenience store worker alone on night shift.
• Incident: A man (earlier behaving erratically) loiters, glares, and threatens her safety, including hinting at breaking into her car.
• Resolution: Multiple customers stay with her; police eventually arrest the man.

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9. Stranger Danger—"Help with Dishes"

[56:10 – 58:45]

• Setting: Two young boys lured into an old man’s apartment with promises of antique toys.
• Incident: The man subtly tries to trap them, but Jacob’s mother calls for him—breaking the spell and allowing both to escape.
• Reflection: The narrator realizes as an adult how close they came to disaster.

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10. Clinic Intruder With a Key

[58:46 – 62:09]

• Setting: Office building; narrator is a personal trainer, alone at night.
• Incident: A man with a key enters, refuses to leave, blocks the door, and gives inconsistent excuses for his presence.
• Resolution: The narrator’s colleague comes to her aid; the intruder leaves after 15 tense minutes, but lingers outside in a van.

Notable Quote:

“I tell him I'm leaving for the night and turning on the alarm so you need to leave. He looks at me and shakes his head and says no very firmly.” (60:06)

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11. Bench Encounter — Possible Mental Health Crisis

[62:10 – 66:10]

• Setting: College student sits near her apartment.
• Incident: Eccentric woman, possibly unwell, alternates between asking for police help, money, and to be accompanied to the store—then follows the narrator home.
• Resolution: The narrator locks herself in; police are called; the woman is contacted but ultimately deemed not a threat.

Insight:
Exposes the complicated feelings surrounding benign yet frightening encounters with potentially mentally ill strangers.

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12. Military Misconduct and Power Abuse

[66:11 – 109:30, condensed & highlights]

• Setting: Female recruit in a tightly regimented, isolating environment.
• Main Character: "Frank"—an NCO, martial arts enthusiast, physically dominant, and intrusive supervisor with a penchant for boundary violations.
• Incidents: Unwanted attention, coerced after-hours "mentoring," dietary control, tying the narrator’s ankle, intrusive visits, and a near-sexual advance thwarted by a roommate.
• Aftermath: Frank is later demoted and separated after other assault allegations and a breakdown.
• Theme: The story is a slow-burn account of grooming, power imbalance, confusion, paralyzing self-doubt, and the failure of institutional safety nets.

Notable Quote:

“Because there I was, trapped in a corner with my one good ankle tied to a piece of furniture, and I just sat there and watched it happen. I felt so stupid.” (109:08)

Memorable Moment:
Frank attempting to kiss the narrator while she is trapped by context and physical position—only to be interrupted by the arrival of her roommate and the guard.

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Notable Quotes & Moments (with Timestamps)

| Quote | Speaker & Context | Timestamp | |-------|-------------------|-----------| | "The guy accepts this offer and grabs the tricycle." | Mountain Stranger story | 07:14 | | "Get in the car now." | Predatory co-worker | 21:48 | | "Because of the sirens, no one would have been able to hear me scream." | Middle school lurker | 27:28 | | “When we find you, you’re dead. You’re on private militia property and trespassers get shot.” | Armed landowners, Alaska | 31:20 | | “He replied, ‘What do you think it means?’” | Motel “offender” story | 38:55 | | "He looked very angry. But then my neighbor’s car reached my house and Rob ran away, probably thinking it was my mom coming home." | Online stalker | 48:15 | | “I tell him I'm leaving for the night and turning on the alarm so you need to leave. He looks at me and shakes his head and says no very firmly.” | Clinic intruder | 60:06 | | “Because there I was, trapped in a corner with my one good ankle tied to a piece of furniture, and I just sat there and watched it happen. I felt so stupid.” | Military NCO story | 109:08 |

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Thematic Thread & Tone

Tone: Calm, matter-of-fact, often dryly humorous despite or because of the horror; stories told with reflective, self-aware honesty, occasionally dipping into self-deprecation or dark irony.

Themes:

• Vulnerability and isolation across diverse environments (remote homes, social media, offices, and the military).
• The failure of authority (police, school officials, workplace management, the military) to provide safety.
• The importance of trusting instincts, albeit often in hindsight.
• Small decisions or moments (grabbing a machete, leaving a door unlocked, being polite) as pivots between ordinary and terrifying outcomes.
• The ambiguous aftermath—how fear, self-doubt, or shame linger long after physical danger passes, and how catharsis can come from sharing the story.

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Timestamps for Major Segments

• Mountain Stranger: 01:25–10:15
• Greek Restaurant Stalker: 11:33–25:10
• Middle School Siren Attack: 25:10–29:00
• Alaska Militia Encounter: 29:05–36:25
• Runaway Motel ‘Offender’: 36:40–39:40
• Social Media Stalker, ‘Rob’: 39:41–49:25
• Corner Shop Child Abduction: 50:00–53:30
• Convenience Store Stalker: 53:31–56:09
• Stranger Danger - "Help with Dishes": 56:10–58:45
• Clinic Intruder: 58:46–62:09
• Bench Encounter (Mentally Unwell Stranger): 62:10–66:10
• Military NCO (Frank): 66:11–109:30

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Conclusion

Scary Stories and Rain | Ep. 450 is a densely packed mosaic of fear, resilience, and dark absurdity. Through real voices and experiences, the episode assembles a spectrum of unsettling true stories that linger—not in overt horror—but in the subtle, everyday ways strangers can disrupt the boundaries of safety. It is as much about survival and humor as it is about reliving the “scariest night”—and finding some measure of peace in the telling.

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Transcript

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to Scary Stories in Rain. Do you want to listen? Ad free? Just subscribe on Spotify for $2.99 a month. Now turn out the lights, enjoy the stories, and enjoy the rain. It was 2009, I'm in high school and I'm a male. I live in an island where most people live near the coast, but my childhood house is deep in the mountains. Imagine a house in the woods, but at the very top of the mountain. The house is surrounded by thick mist every night like in a bad horror movie, and the woods around it start less than 2ft from the outer walls of our house. Our closest neighbor is about a 15 minute drive and five minutes away there's an abandoned house, there's no street lights and there are all kinds of animals roaming the area. This is important to the story because even though you couldn't see a group of 10 people hiding 1 meter away from you in the woods, you could hear absolutely everything up to a couple kilometers away. If we saw car lights or heard a car approaching, my family and I would turn off the lights and hide. I don't know why. Shy, antisocial, whatever you want to call It. I think that's enough to set my story up, but I'll add a little bit more detail that might be important. My house is small, but our family car was a good one. I don't know much about cars, but my dad always says that without a really good car, we wouldn't be able to go up and down the mountain we lived in. Also, there's currently eight people living inside our house. This happened one night at about 11pm so I'm at the dining table enjoying some cereal while I watch some anime, having the time of my life. The lights in the house were on, so nothing could be seen in the darkness outside. There's a window in front of me that faces the front of the house and the road. Something calls my attention, but I don't hear or see anything. Suddenly I think I slightly see a human silhouette outside, but it's not moving, so I just ignore it as some effect of the lights in the house or maybe my own reflection. More anime, more cereal. Then I think I see something moving at the other side of the window, and this time the silhouette is waving at me. I felt my heart jump out of my chest and I froze. There was a person outside waving at me. After maybe 10 seconds in which I had just looked up with a spoon halfway to my mouth, he decides to call out, hello. I need help. My parents hear him and approach the window, which made me sure I wasn't looking at a ghost. The man outside starts telling a story about how his car was stolen and he needs help. My parents are surprised that nobody heard his footsteps, so they whisper their theories among themselves. For the mysterious guy's story to be true, he had to have been mugged more than a mile away, gotten his car stolen, and then walked for half an hour in the dark through the woods, following the dim light of our house. My parents still decide to believe him and they offer to call the police. Our visitor begs to say the stupidest thing he could have. Don't call the police. I don't have a gun. My parents stay silent for a while. The guy outside knows that he messed up, but proceeds to make his request. Can I please get a ride downtown? My dad nervously chuckles and gives him an excuse. He mentions the time, the fact that he felt the guy was lying and that he had already called the police. This is when my favorite part of the story begins. I stand up from the table, shaking. I go to a closet, and even though I can't see the guy's face, I know he's following my actions. I grab two machetes that are half my size and run to the other room. I was terrified, and looking back, I probably took away the only weapons my parents could have used to protect themselves in case of an altercation. I opened a door to the room where my siblings and I sleep, and they were watching some silly show. My sisters are loud and my younger brothers are 4 years old, 7 years old and 9 years old, so their laughs are angelical by day and demonic by night. I signal at them to shut up and they do so, joining me and my parents in our fear. There's silence, and then suddenly we hear the guy say, it's okay if you can't help me. I'll go to the next house. My dad replies, there's no next house. You should wait for the police here. I don't need the police. I'm good. This goes back and forth. The guy is now in good shape to walk an hour down the mountain to reach downtown. My dad offers a rusty metal tricycle from our porch so that he can go downtown as a joke. The guy accepts this offer and grabs the tricycle. I assume he just wanted to leave with something. This tricycle is 20 years old and it definitely doesn't work. And this guy definitely wouldn't be able to ride it even if it did. We hear the screeching of the tricycle for a couple seconds as the stranger struggled to be able to ride it and then stopped not too far away from the house. It seemed like he stopped and we didn't hear any footsteps that indicated the guy had left. After trying to identify if he was still in sight, to no avail, my dad calls the police. We wait in silence, looking at the road from the front windows. Fifteen minutes later, the police finally arrive and as soon as the red and blue lights show up, they illuminate the entire road up to the abandoned house. The tricycle is sitting by itself on the road, not too far away. The police claim not seeing anyone on the road, so they just took a look at the woods with a flashlight and called it a night. The cops were clearly freaked out by the eerie look of our house and did not stay more than five minutes. Nothing else happened that night. I slept with two machetes under my bed, which I remember angered one of my sisters. We have no idea who this person was. No carjackings were reported the next day, and even though a lot of weird things happen around my house, we never saw this guy again. It's pretty obvious he was up to no good, but there were a Few things that we could never understand. Where did he come from? Where did he go? If his story was true, he had the worst luck in the world. I think the situation was interesting because I think about his point of view and our horror night turns a bit comical. I mean imagine this, you go rob a house. Turns out the people inside speak calmly. There's a scrawny, seemingly mute kid that tries to be sneaky in grabbing some huge machetes and then hides somewhere in the darkness of the house. Then you hear children's laughter coming from a room and then absolute silence. I think we were lucky, but probably out creeped this creep that night. I don't see any other reason for this guy to back out of his plans. The guy clearly had a gun and bad intentions, not to mention his ability to ninja walk through a forest where we even hear wild cats walking around. Also, no neighbors witnessed or heard anything. I am sure some other person would have told this story better, but I gave it a shot. Obviously I hope I never see this guy again, even though I wouldn't know if I did because I never saw his face. So this story needs a little bit of backstory. I am a 21 year old female and at the time of this story I was 19 and had just started a new job at a Greek restaurant in my town. I had also just found out I was six weeks pregnant and still in the process of comprehending this, but ended up losing the pregnancy about two weeks after this incident. So needless to say, I was wrecked emotionally. This new job meant basically waiting tables for about 610 hours a day and for anyone who has ever experienced morning sickness knows that it does not just strike in the morning. So I was pretty nauseated most of the day and exhausted, which meant I wasn't exactly the most alert. I was incredibly tired all the time, but I tried my best to still appear alert and focused. I woke up bright and early and put on a long sleeve, button down black slacks and non slip shoes on my first day at this new job. I was immediately walked through and introduced to the other employees. One person in particular stood out immediately. He was probably in his mid-40s to early 50s, overweight, dark.

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busy See terms Unkempt hair and beard, glasses, no smile he stared like he was trying to direct me with his eyes eyes and seemed to be analyzing every part of me. To this day it is still something that can send a chill down my spine. I think it is also worth mentioning that because I look younger than I am when I am not wearing makeup, I was continuously being asked what high school I went to. Most of them assumed I was like 16 years old and I had never been formally introduced to this guy or even learned his name. So as far as he KNEW I was 16 years old. I didn't see the point in correcting them since I was pretty used to being mistaken for younger. When my arms were covered throughout my entire shift I could feel eyes on me no matter where I went in the restaurant and over time I would turn to the kitchen and see his cold, unmoving, deadpan expression locked onto me like a heat seeking missile. For the most part on the first day this is all he did. Aside from that, he left me alone, but for me it was already enough to put me on edge. I would also catch moments where he and my manager would be speaking with one another, look over at me and then speak again. At first I thought okay, that is just the hormones, I'm being crazy. Then towards the end of my shift I let my manager know I would need to leave exactly at closing because I need to walk to my bus stop and if I miss that bus I'm kinda screwed until the next one comes at a little before midnight. He agrees and says it will not be a problem. He also mentions that I am dressed so formally and that casual would be better. So the next day I decided to just wear the same thing as I saw other female co workers wearing and I came in for my shift. I am wearing an all black short sleeve T shirt, black yoga pants, non slip shoes and my apron. I also happen to have multiple tattoos, most of which are on my wrists, forearms and inner arms. Not a full sleeve but pretty visible to most of the co workers. This was enough to show them I was in fact over 18 but it also made me more interesting of an object to to leer at during my shift for him. As I was restocking some of the sauces we put on the table, he approached me and stared down at me intently. I looked up startled to see him so close to me and just said yes. He just stared at me for a few seconds and then said want some coffee? We had a machine we used to make various coffee drinks that we could kept in the back so I assumed this is what he meant and responded okay, sure. Thanks. I'd appreciate that. He seemed really content and just walked away without another word. He never actually brought me coffee and I thought that was kind of weird but I just went back to doing my job. A few hours later and it's finally time I can take my lunch break. I quickly place my to go order and run to the back room to change into a sweater. When I came back from changing my food is ready and he hands me the food and I notice there is a piece of paper on top and he is smirking at me then looking at my manager with a smile. I realize later that the piece of paper is his phone number. When I come back from my lunch I am asked by my manager to go into the storage unit behind the restaurant and grab cat of soda to restock the fridge. I agree and head back. This storage unit was basically a metal shipping carrier that was in the parking lot behind the restaurant. There was one big heavy metal door to get in and no light on the inside. While I was in there I had my back turned to the metal door while I was knelt down looking for all the cases of soda on the shelves. Hey. My heart nearly stops and I let out a sharp squeak of terror and quickly turn around to see him. I chuckle half heartedly to try and make it seem like I wasn't on the verge of passing out and then just quickly ask am I in your way? Silence. I slowly stand up and brace my back against the wall of the shipping container realizing that I may not be in the safest position right now. You never texted me. He slowly starts to move towards me and I half cry, half shout. I have a boyfriend. Dead silence again. He simply slams his fist into the shipping carrier door and walks out without a word. His shift ended one hour later and mine was set to end in another five hours. He seemed to have left and I got through the rest of my shift almost completely without incident. I notice a car in the parking lot of the restaurant going out through the entrance and I think to myself how stupid. Why would he go that way. The car goes towards the intersection and then u turns to be driving the same way that I'm walking at this point. It is about 10 10:30pm and I had just finished closing up and began walking towards my bus stop only about a mile away at the train station. As I am walking I stay on the phone with my godmother and walk along the train station. As I reach my stop I realize that there is a car that just keeps circling. I had noticed it while I was walking for my job but thought it must just be because I was on a straight road for so long and when I notice the lift badge on it I assume it is just someone looking for their passenger. I know that it can be dangerous waiting at night by myself since the trains had already stopped running that night and I had another 30 or so minutes before my bus would arrive. I keep pepper spray on me just in case and a whistle in my backpack for this exact reason. I place my backpack down next to me on the bench and pop in one of my earbuds so I can have my playlist queued up and ready to go when my bus arrives. 15 more minutes go by and I see the car circle again. Another 10 minutes and it pulls up directly in front of me. I take out my earbud to preemptively say I'm not your passenger. Sorry. The window on the car rolls down and you guessed it, it's him. Get in. He demanded quickly. I am dumbfounded and freeze. No thanks. My bus will be here soon. He smiles eerily. Don't you see who it is? You know me. Get in. I tense up. No. I really don't want to. Please leave me alone. My voice is shaking and breaking on every word. I reach slowly for my backpack and frozen freeze. Get in the car now. I feel my entire body lock up and I want to scream but nothing comes out. I hear his door unlock and I start to panic thinking this is going to end very badly for me. The bus pulls in and I see the driver door of his car slam shut and he peels off down the road. I run into the bus and quickly take the closest seat to the driver I possibly could. As soon as I get through the door of my room, I see my boyfriend and burst into tears and sob. I was shaking the entire bus ride with the realization that he had followed me in his car for a mile to the bus stop and then circled and waited until I was completely alone. I felt so ashamed that I had all the tools I believed I needed to keep myself safe and I froze up. I went to the police the next day and was told that even though they agreed it was extremely concerning and it could escalate further, that they could not do anything until he flat out stated his intent to hurt me or stalked me for at least 48 hours. I was completely devastated, but also determined to stay away from him at that place. I quit over text message the next day because I was never going to go back in person. I really, really hope I never see him again. Today there was a test of the civil defense siren in the region I live in, and the sound of it brought back a memory of something I have not thought about for years. In my country, it is common for these sirens to to be placed on school buildings, and so it is very memorable the few times a year it would be tested. Back when I was in middle school at the age of 14, I was like most other kids my age, trying to fit in. In my case, that meant I was trying to blend into the crowd of older emo kids. I was attending a creative course, and because the entire school ground was getting renovated, there were multiple old buildings that were going to be demolished. Because of this, me and some older emo kids were pretty much allowed to do whatever we wanted with those buildings for an art project and for the upcoming school fair. So we were painting random stuff on the walls and painting the stairs into waterfalls and such. On this day, we were getting close to the end of our project. It was the end of the day, so school was pretty much empty and the sirens were going to be tested. Funnily enough, those sirens that probably originated way back from World War II were placed on top of the abandoned school buildings where said event was going to happen. Among the emo kids, there was this guy that was a few years older than me that I always found very weird, named Paul. The only way to describe him is that it was like he was constantly pretending to be unpredictable and crazy for laughs. Most of the time this just meant that he was clowning around. He was friends with another emo guy my age, Andrew, who was openly obsessed with me. He was a very annoying daily thing that I had to deal with, who constantly followed me around school saying weird sexual stuff and sniffing my hair. But despite his stalkerish behavior, it never went past that. Paul too had soon joined in on Andrew following me around. And so I skipped school a lot because no one wanted to take me seriously. They thought I was just being whiny about this comedic duo of pursuers, and even my mother would laugh if I complained about it. Despite them both being really creepy and annoying. I felt bad for them because Andrew was getting bullied for being feminine and and gay, even though he clearly was not, given how he acted around me. And I felt bad for Paul because I knew he came from a very tragic and troubled home. This one day, I was walking downstairs from where my friends were painting to the empty first floor so I could get outside of the building. The sirens had started and it was so loud it was impossible to hear anything except during the small breaks. Suddenly, someone grabbed me before I managed to get outside and just moved me into the other hallway where a wall blocked any view from the entrance of the building. He literally held his hands in front of my mouth as he suddenly pushed me and lifted me up against the brick wall there. So I was shocked and kind of out of breath. As he faced me, I saw that it was the weirdo Paul, who was, for the record, very tall compared to my tiny frame. The sirens were going off loudly and he did not say anything, just stared at me with completely crazy eyes. Back then, I was so completely innocent and the fact that he could do anything bad did not cross my mind right away. I just nervously laughed while I said that he scared me and asked him to please put me down. But he didn't and I was starting to freak out because no one could hear me or knew where I was. Just then, before anything could happen, this older emo girl who was one of my friends appeared peeking out around the corner because she was looking for me. When she saw what he was doing, she did not hesitate for a moment. She walked over screaming at Paul and kicked him as hard as she could in the knee. He dropped me as he crouched down in pain and my friend just grabbed my shoulder and brought me outside to the school yard. After that, we did not really talk about it, just called him a creep and laughed it off. During my last few years in middle school, I drifted away from that crowd as they were all older and moving on to high school. As I have grown older and wiser, I have come to realize just how close I had come to something really bad happening to me. Because of the sirens, no one would have been able to hear me scream. And because we were in the abandoned building, there was a lot of secluded rooms that he could have dragged me to. So I'm so thankful that my old friend walked in before he had the chance. Without her, the story may have been very different. Lastly, I would like to add that I saw this guy again in high school because he was dating a friend of a friend. He was often waiting around school grounds for her to finish classes and even though I tried avoiding him, he ran up and hugged me once. I felt very uncomfortable and just sort of froze. After that, I told my friend that he was not the right person and she said she knew he was abusive to her friend. After that, I told my friend that I really believed he was not the right person. Alaska is the perfect place to go if you want to get away from the rest of the world. As America's least densely populated state, you have plenty of breathing room from any kind of authority or prying eyes that may want to know what you're up to. For this reason, my home state is very attractive to all sorts of weird and unsavory groups. I have stumbled across Scientology centers at the end of a dirt back road with nothing else for miles around, heard stories from doomsday preppers who claim to have bunkers made out of shipping containers in the sides of mountains, and met people who have come out of religious cults in the interior that wanted to keep their followers away from any contact with the outside world. All of this and more you can find in Alaska. I was born and raised in Anchorage, the only big city in the state. Growing up, we had about 250,000 people in a city it takes about 30 minutes tops to drive across. So that gives you an idea for what we up north consider a big city. The only other real city in the state state is Fairbanks. These two cities are connected by 360 miles of a two lane highway. It's a seven hour drive one way to get between them through one of the most beautiful landscapes on the planet. Mountains rise up on either side of you between Anchorage and Denali National Park. Before you drive through these colossal canyons carved out of the rock over tens of thousands of years by melting glaciers and rivers. Past Denali is another three hours of driving through a vast flat interior plain with mountains in the distance. I say all this to help you understand just how desolate it feels in the Alaska. Even on the highway after you get out of Anchorage or Fairbanks, there is nothing but wilderness as far as the eye can see, save for the occasional small town with a max population of about 1,000 people on a this episode is supported by FX's the Shards, a seductive drama from executive producer Ryan Murphy. Set in 1980s Los Angeles, the series follows a group of glamorous, deeply entangled high school seniors drawn into a life of wealth, beauty, parties and excess. At its center is Brett, whose reality begins to unravel when the arrival of a new student coincides with a series of mysterious murders. FX's the Shards, now streaming on Hulu did you know Sam's Club isn't a store. It's actually a club with cool finds and like a whole community, it's a club. Of course, Jason. It's in the name. Sam's Club. Oh yeah. Come join us.

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[A]

Good day. Ten years back, it was even less. Alaskan girls are built tough. We change tires, hunt, fish, camp, and generally have a great appreciation for the great outdoors that women in the lower 48 don't really have if they're near a city. The joke is that Anchorage is the biggest rural city in the country. All this brings context to the following story. In high school, things were different. Or at least they felt different. I was a young and stupid woman who thought I could conquer anything. Due to the aforementioned built to tough attitude that I was raised with. Senior year of high school, I decided to treat myself to a camping trip into the mountains up past Talkeetna. Nothing fancy, just an overnight or two in the most beautiful state at the most beautiful time of the year, mid June. Going up north in peak summer here has a weird feeling to it. The sun never really sets. If you've ever seen the movie Midsummer, that's what it's like. It gets to about dusk and that's it. It's still bright and sunny out the whole night. Through the false sense of security I had, thinking that the midnight sunlight would mean safety probably nearly got me killed. Or worse. My second mistake was not telling anyone where I was going. I Just packed up for my trip, stopped at Subway for a lunch and headed out into the great beyond. The drive was full fine. A solid two and a half hours of driving north along the highway took up most of the afternoon as I jammed out to the greatest Hits from the radio on Cool 97.3. After you get through the Matsu Valley, you get into the mountains again. Tall spruce and evergreen trees line the road on both sides with the occasional empty space where there has been some clear cut logging. All of this gives you a sense that while you're out in the wilderness, you are still connected to civilization in some way. This led me to my biggest mistake, not staying at a state park campground. I was in high school with only a part time job and didn't want to pay the $15 overnight camp fee and was too scared to risk the fine. So I found a spot that looked good and pulled off the road. The map I got from my dad said there was an old mining site up a nearby mountain, so I decided that would be the best spot to head to for an overnight. My logic must have been that it was badass to spend a night in a mining ghost town or something. Pulled off the road, packed up my backpack, put on some bug spray, grabbed my map and compass and started off into the woods. Now this hadn't been the first time I had done this. I have been on wilderness backpacking trips on my own with my dad throughout my childhood. I knew my orientation skills and had taken some wilderness survival courses at camp. I wasn't just some dumb blonde wandering off into the woods with no idea of where I was. Or so I thought. A solid 45 minute hike up into the hills and I finally made it to where the old mining camp was supposed to be. There was nothing there, just an old concrete foundation with some holes in it and nothing else. I was very disappointed but unsurprised at the outcome. I set up camp off in the woods and set to building a fire for dinner on the concrete slab here. You're supposed to set up cooking a ways from your camp just in case bears are nosy. The last thing you want is a 1300 pound grizzly poking his nose in your tent wondering why you smell like Campbell's soup and s'. Mores. By this time it was getting late, about 10pm but the sun was still high in the sky and by the time dinner was over it was nearly 11. I was starving and dug in. About an hour later. It was about as dark as it was going to get, so I hunkered down in my tent for the night, confident that the overgrowth was private enough for whatever animals might come out around Then I woke to voices in the distance and slow moving, crashing through the underbrush. My first thought was hunters. My dad and I had run into a few on some campouts, so it wasn't uncommon. I relaxed and figured they would just pass through without incident and closed my eyes again. That's when they found my fire pit. A man's voice cried out into the brightish forest. Who the hell is camping on our property? I froze. I knew I had messed up up and was getting up, grabbing my purse and putting on my shoes so I could go apologize before I heard the man again. When we find you, you're dead. You're on private militia property and trespassers get shot. That's when the whole situation changed. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't just pack up my tent and stuff with some armed guy lurking around. I carefully put my shoes on, put my keys in my purse, and slung away into the underbrush as quietly as I could. My thought was to slip away, wait until they got bored and left, and then go back, pack up and leave. I spent 20 minutes hunkered behind a log in the woods, barely in earshot before I heard a second voice calling for the others. They had found my tent and were tearing it apart. Going through my stuff, I heard one shout out, bed's still warm and trespasser's a chick. She left her underwear. The first man shouted out, okay, fan out and find her. She thinks she can trespass, Then there's gonna be hell to pay. At that point, I wasn't concerned that I had left my spare change of underwear in my bag or that these creeps had found it. I needed to get out of there quietly. I made my way down the mountain for a good 30 minutes, tiptoeing and taking care not to step on twigs or make a ruckus. After the rustling and shouting of the men had faded quite a bit, I said, screw it, and booked it as fast as I could into the midnight sun down the hills. I tripped and fell and got scraped up more times than I would care to remember. Finally I made it back to the road, but much to my horror, there was no car. I knew I had come up or down the road road from where I had been. I couldn't quite remember where I was at the time, but picked a direction and started walking. I rounded a corner on the road and saw my car and the two men standing Beside it, they were armed and dressed in surplus military gear. I hid in the brush on the side of the road and watched. A while later, several more men appeared from the trail I had taken. They dumped all of my stuff next to my car, hopped back on their ATVs and drove off. I went up to my car, careful not to be seen and found a note on my dashboard. It read something like if we ever catch you on our property again, we will not hesitate to use force. Consider this a warning. I went back to start loading stuff into my car and noticed what they had done. They had come up or destroyed all of my gear, probably as punishment for trespassing. Honestly, I am thankful they did that because I am grateful I didn't get shot. Ever since then I have taken great care to camp only in designated camping areas. Please don't judge some of my incredibly stupid decisions in my creepy encounter. I was very young so when I was 15 my sister and I ran away from home. That was dumb decision number one. I was gone for a total of about six months. At some point for about two weeks, we were living in a run down motel. One night while I was by myself, I was sitting on the stairs of the motel flipping through a magazine. Stupid decision number two. A grown man walks by me and starts to talk to me. He asks my name and why I am sitting outside. I ask him if he is a cop. Extremely stupid decision number three. Since this shows him I do not want cops involved as I was a runaway. He asked do I look like a co cop? He didn't. He said he had some alcohol in his room he was willing to share if I would like to come up and drink with him at 15. To me free alcohol sounded great. I said okay and went with him to his room. Stupid decision number four. We got to his room and began drinking and talking a bit. I forget what I asked him but at some point I asked him something that made him get out his ID and show it to me under his name. I noticed it had offender under his name in red. Warning bells went off and I asked what that meant. He replied what do you think it means? At that point I just wanted the hell out of there. As I'm thinking that an additional grown man walks into the room. He sees me, smiles and they both nod to each other. I am now in a locked motel room with two grown men. I turn to the first guy and tell him something like I have to get something out of my room real quick and I'll be right back up. I must have sounded believable. He said, you'll come right back. I said, of course I want to keep drinking. He then asked what room number I was in. I lied and made up one. Of course by the grace of God, he let me out of that room and I briskly walked back to my room. Not even a minute later the phone rings. I pick it up. Why did you lie to me? I said, what do you mean you lied about your room number? I watched you go into your room. I told him it must have slipped my mind when I was talking to him earlier. He then told me to come back upstairs to his room so we can keep hanging out. I told him I would be right up. I then proceeded to unplug the phone from the wall and curl up in a ball since I was so afraid he would try to come for me. I still to this day do not know why he let me leave. He didn't have to. Lord knows what would have happened to me that night. Scary to think since I was a runaway no one would have known anything. I had no idea and was going by a different name. I looked up what offender means. Most websites say that it means the person is a sex offender or out on parole. I was so lucky. Surprisingly though, it took me to becoming an adult to realize the danger I was in that night. To me at 15, he was a creepy guy and I instinctively knew I had to get out of there. But it wasn't until years later that I really understood how bad that situation could have become. When I was 15 years old and just got into junior year, I created my first Twitter account that I deleted because of this story. Some pieces of information I didn't tell anyone my username, neither my family nor my friends because I didn't have any. My profile picture was an avatar so no pictures of me on the account and as location I said Paris because I lived in the suburbs. I didn't have many followers, 20 or maybe 30 and I didn't follow that many people. One evening in October someone sent me a quite strange direct message. It was a 200 followers account and the message was hi, my name is Rob. I just turned 17 and wanted to know if you lived in my city because I will soon move in and go to the town high school and I'm looking for friends. The town he named was obviously the town I lived in. I immediately thought something was wrong because there was nowhere on my profile I said where I actually lived. But after some time thinking I remembered of a tweet I made weeks ago about buses and I mentioned the city. So I told myself he just looked up from my city and found my tweet. His age wasn't shocking because I'm two years ahead of my classmates. I was bored and as he was polite, I answered him. I told him I indeed lived in that city and go to the high school there. The discussion was natural and we talked a lot that night, mainly about high school, about the food at the cafeteria, about the teachers, that kind of thing. But as it was getting very late, he tried to interpose some personal questions, like do you live far away from the school, in a house or in an apartment? Do you live with both your parents? There's five of you, you're not often home alone, right? I never answered because it was way too shady for me. And unfortunately he didn't insist. Unfortunately, because if he did, I would have probably blocked him. The next day, the same thing. We talked a lot and he was still asking personal questions to quote unquote, know me better. So I asked some too, and he always answered with what seemed like honesty. I still didn't answer the questions about my house though, because he didn't need to know anything about Lasted two or three weeks, but it was enough for me to develop feelings for him. He was handsome, super kind, and it was everything I needed because I was bullied for years. And even today I still develop strong feelings, but most importantly, blind trust in people who are friendly to me. In France in October, we have a two week long vacation and the day before back to school day, he finally told me he was coming to my high school because he finally moved in with his mom and he asked me a place to meet during the morning break. I was so happy and relieved to be able to finally meet him and told him to join me in the hall. But when he understood that there would be people around, he said he would prefer an isolated place because he was afraid he would not recognize me and didn't want to spend the break looking for me. It was a good excuse for me. So I told him to meet me in the third floor bathroom because we weren't allowed to stay there during the breaks and no one would disturb us. In my head, even though it was a little bit creepy, I was still in school so nothing could happen to me. The next day, back to school day, I made myself pretty. I wore my best clothes and counted down the minutes. And finally, when break time arrived, I ran to the bathroom and waited. And when he arrived, it was him. He was not a catfish. He looked quite like his profile picture. But I noticed that he seemed a little bit older than he told me. I thought 20 years old instead of 17. We talked a lot, we got along well. I was so pleased. And at the end of the break, he asked me to go to fast food with him for lunch. I said no because I didn't have any money and I always refuse for people to pay for me. It's a principle I have. He seemed disappointed, but offered to walk me home after classes. I explained that I have to take the bus, but that he could walk me to the bus stop. He looked disappointed again, but finally accepted. And that's exactly what happened. And it was so great that it quickly became some kind of routine. We met in the third floor bathroom during the morning break and he walked me to the bus stop after classes. Surprising fact, I never saw him in the hallways nor at the cafeteria. But I thought at the time that the building was huge and that there were over 1500 students in here. So if our schedules didn't coincide, there was no way we could meet each other. This little game lasted until December. So almost a month and a half. The 14th of December, a Thursday. I complained about how lonely I was going to be that evening because my dad was abroad for work, my brother was always at his friend's house, my little sis was on a school trip and my mom had to work late that very night. It was very reckless of me, but after weeks I thought I could trust him. That evening he walked me to the bus stop. We both waited. I got on the bus, waved at him and put in my earphones. I had two stops before my house. It was about 5:45 in December, so it was already really dark outside. And as I got out of the bus, I had a really bad feeling. There was that very uncomfortable sensation in my stomach and I felt like I was being observed. I pressed pause on my music, but kept my earphones in so that people thought I couldn't hear anything. And that is probably what saved my life. I lived in a suburban neighborhood, very silent, especially at night with no visibility. On the big road, the bus passed in. When I heard footsteps behind me, I understood that I was right. There was someone following me. And he was not well intentioned. At least I could hear that he was not accelerating, so he was not trying to catch catch me up. But I couldn't guess how long it would last. As quietly as possible. I tried to reach for my keys in my pocket, and when I finally pulled them out, I ran as fast as I could. The Best sprint of my life. I don't know how it worked, but I managed to open and close the door before he could reach me. I then deactivated my alarm, which by the way, confirmed that I was home alone, and took a look through my glass panel on the door. It is not a peephole, it is a whole window. So if someone wants to see what's happening inside, they can. It was Rob, a few meters away, looking at me with a really creepy face. He followed me to my home, probably with a car, and he was clearly not here for chit chat. I still don't know why I didn't call call the police. I was totally paralyzed. We both stared at each other for a minute, and when I took back control over my body, I ran in the kitchen to get a knife and got back to the door. He was there too, banging against it. I feared for a second that the glass would break, but it didn't happen. That moment, when I was pushing against the door, praying for it to not break while he was kicking harder and harder, was the longest I've ever experienced. After maybe five minutes, he stopped and got around the house, knocking against every shutter and got back to the door. He looked very angry. But then my neighbor's car reached my house and Rob ran away, probably thinking it was my mom coming home. On Twitter, Rob sent me a thousand messages before I could block him. He then deleted his account and I thought I was done with this story. But quickly after, some accounts which have just been created followed me. Their handles were all a series of numbers and the first letter of his name, and as soon as I blocked one, another one followed me. I chose to delete my account because I couldn't make it stop and it was too hard to endure because they were sending me dozens of insulting DMs. Later, I talked to the people who were supposed to be Rob's classmates because I haven't met him again in days. But not a single one ever heard about Rob. This guy was never a student in my high school. That is why I have never met him apart from our daily meetings. And that is probably why he seemed so old. I never heard about him again and I am still asking myself, what did he want? And what would have happened that night if he had gotten inside my house?

[B]

This episode is brought to you by Facebook. So you were scrolling on Marketplace, and there it was, the bike you'd been searching for. You sent a message and it turned out the seller was super chatty, kind of funny, and an avid cyclist. The Next thing you know, you're in a cycling crew. Well, a community cycling group. The thing about Facebook, you might find more than what you're looking for. From a browse to a bike ride this summer. Find more on Facebook.

[A]

Amazon Health AI presents Painful Thoughts why

[B]

did I search the Internet for answers to my cold sore problem?

[A]

Now I'm stuck down a rabbit hole

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filled with images of alarmingly graphic source in various stages of ooze. I can clear my search history, but I can never unsee that.

[A]

Don't go down the rabbit hole. Amazon Health AI gets you the right care fast. Healthcare just got less painful When I was younger, around 11 years old, my mother used to take me to visit her boyfriend who lived in one of the dodgier parts of town. It was always kind of a long walk and me being a child, I would complain a lot. On the day this happened. It was a very cold day and I remember it was on one of the walks to his house we passed by a bus stop. Waiting at the bus stop was an older man with jet black hair and the creepiest grin you could imagine. I looked at him as we passed passed and he smiled at me, revealing that half of his teeth were missing. My mother did not seem to notice this man as we walked past. He got up and began to follow us. I looked behind and thought it was weird that he wasn't waiting for this bus anymore, but I didn't bother to say anything. We arrived at my mother's boyfriend's house and I forgot about the man. He let me play Resident Evil 4 on his PS2 too. I ate a cheeseburger, watched a couple episodes of Friends, and then my mother said we were going to the corner shop to buy some milk and bread. We all put on our coats and headed around to the corner shop. When we arrived, my mother and her boyfriend went to buy what they needed and asked me if I wanted any chocolate or chips or anything like that. When they turned the corner, I saw the man again, still staring directly into my eyes with the same smile that he had earlier. I ignored him the best I could, examining the selection of chips and chocolate that they had and grabbing whatever I wanted when suddenly I felt two hands under my armpits picking me up. At first I was just confused. I turned around expecting my mother or her boyfriend, but it was the man and he was all already on his way out of the store with me in his grip. Basically running out of the store. I screamed and began crying and that's when my mother screamed also and ran towards me, putting her hands around the man's neck while her boyfriend grabbed me. She punched him, screaming at him, all kinds of obscenities. All I remember at this point is the person working in the corner shop coming to ask what just happened and the man ran out of the store. The person working at the store rang the police and when they arrived I told them what happened and gave them a description of the guy and they said they would look into it. We never heard from the police if they found the guy or not and every time I go back to that part of town I shiver at the thought of what could have happened if my mother did not spot him leaving with me. I work at a convenience store. I have had some creepy customers come in before but this one was a little more disturbing. If it wasn't for what was said and done I don't think this would have been that bad. I Normally work the third shift which is 4pm to apply around 12am and I am by myself for the last four hours. This man had come in earlier that day and was acting odd, jittery, chewing at his lip, constantly fumbling with his debit card to the point that I did everything for him except for putting his pin number in. Fast Forward to around 10:30pm I'm sweeping the floors as I'm supposed to do every night when the man entered. He approached my register and I asked him what he needed, can I have one of those lighters? I pick one up and go to scan it but he tells me that he doesn't have any money. I tell him he can't have it and he glares at me before leaving. A man was in line behind him and the entire time I was scanning his things the creepy guy was staring at me through the window right next to my register. He eventually walked off and the man I'm helping jokes about the creepy guy asking for a lighter. He tells me to be safe and then walks out to the gas pumps. I start sweeping again but when I turn around to move a small crate out of my way, the creepy guy is standing right behind me, staring at me, just watching me work. I quickly make my way to the back room to make mop water so I could get away from him for a second. He stayed there for a solid five minutes before walking away again. I grabbed a random receipt as a cover and basically bolted to the man at the gas pumps. I got close and asked if he was in a hurry to go anywhere. I told him that the creepy lighter guy was still hanging around and that it was really freaking me out. He promises me that he didn't plan on actually leaving after getting gas. At this point, I thought it wouldn't take up too much of his time since we both thought the man was already wandering away from the store. Unfortunately, he went back toward the store a few seconds later. Soon, an older woman comes in and I warn her about the creepy guy. She asked what I was talking about and I subtly nod in his direction. Mind you still hanging around my window. She looks a little disturbed, leaning in and whispering, what does he want? I explained that he wanted a lighter but didn't have any money so I didn't give him one. I told her to be careful and she quickly told me to worry more about myself since I was at the store alone. She left and I saw the creepy guy approach the window again. Thankfully, he didn't look in, just hung around like he was waiting for someone. After a while, the daughter of a family friend comes in with her girlfriend and we quietly make small talk like the last woman. I warn them that the lighter guy was still roaming around and he could be dangerous before they get to tell me anything. A woman who was talking with the guy from the gas pumps hurried in and told me to call the cops. Obviously not familiar with the area I worked in and hearing from three different people telling me what numbers to call, I was shaking and near tears. The family friend said that she would call while I calmed down. Another girl had run out at this point and I don't blame her. The family friend's girlfriend told me that the lighter guy threatened to throw rocks through the window and hurt or rob me. After about three minutes of pacing and trying not to cry, I saw my mom's trip truck pull in. I bolted to her, telling her what was going on. She calmed me down and walked me back to the entrance. As this happened, the creepy guy had climbed the hill and crossed the street to Bojangles and sat near the front door. The cops arrived, the man from the pumps gave his statement, I gave mine, and finally the family friend gave hers. From what was said, he was about to break into my car. The man that stayed with me stopped him, but that didn't stop the creep from roaming still. After we talked to the cops, they went to Bojangles and confronted the guy. After arguing, a quick pat down and more arguing, the man was put in the back of the cop car. Needless to say, I hope he never visits my store again. And who knows what would have happened if all those people that helped had decided not to stop by that day. This took place when I was around the age of 7 years old. And I remember not thinking it was too much of a big deal back then, but in retrospect, dear God. So I used to live in a bad neighborhood next to a lot of criminals and sex offenders. I had a lot of friends at school and one day one of them was getting ready for school with his little sister. And while they were getting ready, his sister was kidnapped. Luckily they found her along with a bunch of other kids in this creepy guy's house. But that happened right under the care of her mother in the span of maybe 40 seconds. So yeah, bad neighborhood. I had a couple of friends I would spend my days playing with till our mothers would call us for dinner. Fabian, Valerie and Jacob. Jacob was about my age and had an older brother, 17, with autism. Sometimes we kids would all play with Gabriel, the older brother, because his brain conjured up some very fun imagination storylines for us 7 to 9 year olds. But on this day it was just me and Jacob. We had been hanging out all day playing around with these new walkie talkies we had just got. And allow me to describe the environment. I lived in a weird upstairs downstairs apartment, but as a single one. So it looked like a big house with a staircase up the side. We had a ship shed and a yard. And on either side was a wall separating us from an apartment complex. On the left of where I lived from the angle of the driveway was the complex where Fabian lived. And about 25ft of wood chips separated me from Jacob's house. A strange layout I know, but I could just walk up and knock on Jacob's door anytime. But we were on the complex on the left, playing with our walkie talkies, seeing how far the range would let us speak from. We started waiting on the steps of Fabian's house, waiting for him to get back home from the mall. We waited for about 20 minutes and noticed an old creepy man looking at us through his window. We didn't think much of it and got bored and decided to start using the walkie talkies again. Testing the range, saying things to each other that was the comedy gold standard for a 7 year old. When a door opened and out walked the old man that had been looking at us. He had a strange short top hat on with some 70s era round color tinted beetles like glasses on, along with a white thermal sweater, tan brown pants and suspenders. He had a beard too. He smiled at us and said hello. We had seen him before a few times, so we Said hello back. He started talking about various things. I can't exactly remember what, but he eventually moved on to about how he had all these cool collectible antique figures, toys, action figures, dragon statues. It made my little 7 year old self go wild. He invited me and Jacob in to see and so we went in. It stunk in there. It was damp, musty, humid. He smelled like cigarettes and other things I can't put my finger on. There was a strange hum coming from his house and he was talking still, just sort of directing us around and telling us the stories of the figures. I started feeling a bit odd and he said he needed help with the dishes. As he walked me into the kitchen, I didn't find fully enter, but I got close enough that I could see a filthy kitchen that stunk badly, visibly was infested. And I mean infested with cockroaches. My parents had taught me about stranger danger and my dad actually taught me self defense and ran little kidnapping drills on me. He isn't a military man at all, but he would give me lessons in all of that just in case. But my alarm bells started ringing. I said no, as polite as I could. And he said, oh, come on, can't you spare some time to help a poor old man? And I felt him move behind me. Something in me just knew. And I turned and he was shutting the front door that had been open this whole time. I was always a quick thinker, so I jammed my foot between the door and the frame to wedge it open and. And said, no, thank you. And he said, oh no, really, come on, it's okay. I started thinking about ways to defend myself. He was old, so I knew I could take him if I had to. My dad had taught me a way to hit someone in the bottom of the nose with your palm to really screw them up. Jacob had been looking around the whole time and had been in the corner for the past 30 seconds. And he started to notice. And Jacob started saying things and the old man started trying more to shut the door. Just then Jacob's mom furiously screamed his name. Now Jacob's mother, to put it lightly, was vile. She got angry at all of the kids to an inhumane extent over practically nothing. But she didn't want Jacob over at this complex. And he knew that. He said, oh crap, crap, I gotta go. As he ran past and shoved the door open, causing the old man to stumble. I took the only chance that I would probably get and ran out. I remember not wanting to face the reality of that situation. So I kept downplaying it in my head and back then convincing myself it wasn't that bad. I still didn't ever want to see him again again. In retro. Retrospect, that was stupid. I did tell my parents but I never told them the full story cuz well, Fabian lived in that complex and I didn't want them to stop me from going there and seeing Fabian. Stupid I know. Still, I wonder about that old man and I wonder what was up with him and the apartment and the smell. God the smell. I honestly don't want to think about what was have happened if I had missed it by a second to lodge my foot in that door. A little About Me I am a personal trainer and I share a space in an office that also has an acupuncturist and a chiropractor. Usually they operate during the day and I will go around 7 or 8pm at night to work out and do the heavy lifting so their clients don't have to hear metal clinking or banging in another room. As a preface, every once in a while the door will unlock and a cleaning person will come in. The door will chime and they will clean and leave. The family that cleans the building is Hispanic. Usually a taller man who is very nice will clean our office and a woman I assume is his wife will walk around with a trash bag and pick up the other buildings in the area. Tonight was the usual routine. Go to the office, drop off some paperwork and squeeze in an evening workout. I'm putting away some stuff and printing off a few things and I hear the door unlock. The door is older and it makes a very distinction distinct clink sound when the key turns in it. The door chimes and a man comes in asking me in Spanish if he can come in. I don't speak Spanish and he repeats in English, can I come inside? Of course. I think it's one of the members of the family to come clean and I say yes. It isn't until 10 minutes later, after I go to throw away something, that I notice the trash is still there and this man is just sitting, sitting in front of the door. I didn't want to be rude, but I did not understand why on a Sunday night at 8:30pm this guy is just sitting here in the office alone with me. I text the chiropractor and tell her what's going on, to which she calls me immediately and says, you need to leave. There is a button on the alarm to notify the police. Do you want me to come over? I tell her? Yes and I grab my stuff and approach the man. I tell him I'm leaving for the night and turning on the alarm so you need to leave. He looks at me and shakes his head and says no very firmly. I freeze up, thankful that I still have someone on the phone and say why are you here? He mumbles something along the lines of I'm on probation. I tell him that the office isn't for probation and in my mind I am thinking why would someone be reporting to an officer at 8:30pm on a Sunday? This office is holistic. We have Buddhas and incense around. It says Oriental medicine on the door. He stands up and blocks the door. He starts asking what the office really is and I tell him it's for an acupuncturist and other specialties. As I'm telling this story I wonder why he carries scared to know it wasn't for probation. Why would he care so much to know what the office was? I wonder if I made a mistake in telling him. He then pulls out his phone and begins to scroll through it. He says he doesn't know the address and maybe I can help him, suggesting I walk over to peer at his phone. I tell him I can't help him and he needs to leave. He scrolls for five minutes on his phone and at this point I am hoping the Cairo will get here soon. He holds his phone up at me and shows me a random list of 20 to 30 addresses. I tell him maybe what you are looking for is across the street but not here. You need to leave. He seems hesitant to leave but finally turns around and walks out slowly. As soon as he gets outside I lock the door. I guess it didn't matter because this man somehow had a key and got in, but I locked that door as soon as I could. It was only then that I noticed there was a van parked in front of my car outside. This man gets in the passenger side so he isn't alone. I decide to wait until the car leaves before I get in my own car. The way they parked it would only take them backing up five feet to box me into this space. The van is huge with suicide doors on the back and it then proceeds to wait for 15 minutes before slowly pulling out. It stops in front of the office as if they are taking one last look at the building and then slowly pulls off. I wait and notice that they have only pulled up 50ft just out of my sight. They are still there and I can barely see the headlights. It's like they are waiting for something. Thankfully, the chiropractor pulls up in her car in time and the van was gone. The whole experience was unreal. I can't seem to wrap my head around it. The fact that this man came in with a key and acted like he was there for probation doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense at all. The fact that he wanted to know what the office really was and he blocked the door is also bizarre. A few weeks ago when I was moving equipment into the place place, I felt like I was being watched. I ended up burning some sage and thought maybe I was just paranoid about being in a new space at night. But now I'm wondering if there was something I was picking up on and I just didn't know it. Amazon Health AI presents Painful Thoughts why

[B]

did I search the Internet for answers to my cold sore problem?

[A]

Now I'm stuck down a rabbit hole

[B]

filled with images of alarmingly graphic source in various stages of ooze. I can clear my search history, but

[A]

I can never unsee that. Don't go down the rabbit hole. Amazon Health AI gets you the right care fast. Healthcare just got less painful. This episode is supported by FX's the Shards, a seductive drama from executive producer Ryan Murphy. Set in 1980s Los Angeles, the series follows a group of glamorous, deeply entangled high school seniors drawn into a life of wealth, beauty, parties and excess. At its center is Brett, whose reality begins to unravel when the arrival of a new student coincides with a series of mysterious murders. FX's the Shards, now streaming on Hulu,

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Obviously we're all social distancing, but I really wanted to try and get a bit more sunlight to help me keep my sanity from being home all day every day. So I went out of my apartment and sat on a bench near the bus stop just to sit for a little while. I put my earbuds in and called a friend. In my peripheral vision I could see people standing outside their doors to have cigarettes and a lady walking her dog, but we were all at the very least like 40ft away from each other, so no one seemed worried. A couple were talking outside their door and for a moment I thought they were looking at me. I figured I was just being paranoid though, until the woman started walking my direction. As she was walking, I was keeping an eye on it, but trying to keep acting like I hadn't noticed. The bench I was on was near the mailboxes for the whole complex and the bus stop, so I figured there were plenty of reasons other than me she could be coming that way. That was until she stopped just in front of me. I looked up, noticed I had seen this woman once before on the bus. She wears a lot of very heavy dragons, dramatic makeup, including drawing on a set of eyebrows just below the ones she's already growing. She once started talking to me on my morning bus ride to school and gave me an itemized list of the things that she didn't like about my face. I just sort of smiled and nodded and then looked the other way the rest of the trip. It looked like maybe she was talking, so I pulled my earbuds out and hung up on my friend abruptly. Sorry, I said. Could you call the police for me? She said. Uh, okay, I said back, picking up my phone. Actually, never mind, she said quickly. She looked nervous. Are you sure? Yeah. Could I have a dollar? I told her I didn't have any change and apologized. Oh, okay. Actually, could you call the police for me? Yes, I said again unlocking my phone. Wait, actually it's fine. She said now, smiling at me now. When she said it the first time, my brain at first thought she's not visibly injured. Maybe she's in Trouble. Had she been fighting with that man I saw her with before? Was she in danger? Was she being so casual casual with me because she needed help but did not want to alert someone that she was trying to get it. I looked her in the eyes and said, are you sure? I really can call someone if you need it? She responded, no, it's fine. Now, some important context about me is that I have some history of trauma. I don't really want to elaborate too much, but the short of it is I am left with a lot of fear. Fear of people touching me or violating my personal space because some things from when I was growing up. My body now has basically the worst response when someone violates my boundaries, which is to go very limp and let the other person do whatever they want to me in the hopes that if I don't struggle, they won't hurt me as much. It's basically the worst response I could have. But it's very hard to reprogram my body due to my mental health issues. I have also spent significant periods of my life in psychiatric hospitals for treatment. I have met a lot of different people with different issues in the hospital, so I have a bit of a sense for when someone might not be all there mentally. The longer I talked to this woman, the more of a sense I got that she was perhaps not totally in her right mind. Now, in the hospital, I've had situation similar experiences where someone who wasn't fully lucid cornered me and I got trapped in a potentially not safe situation. This is all made worse by my inability to A get people to just leave me alone and B protect my physical space when my body's been triggered into fight or flight. In the hospital when this happens, the hope is that staff notice and help me get away with mixed radio results as a lot of things go on in hospitals that staff end up either unaware of or not noticing until it's too late. But that's a different story. So at that moment, my body decided it was time to screw me over. I started to realize that this woman was getting closer and closer to me and probably not totally well in the head. My body started pumping adrenaline, which made my hands and legs start to feel weak. I felt like I couldn't get enough breath and my head started to go a little fuzzy. The woman positioned herself to sit down next to me and I started to try to get up. Hey, do you want to walk to the store with me? She said. I stood up. Sorry, I can't. I have to take my friend to somewhere I Realized I couldn't think of a lie fast enough. My brain wasn't cooperating. He's been texting me all day and I'm sorry. Okay? She said. Now standing next to me. I started to walk from the bench back over to my building. My legs were feeling pretty wobbly, but I tried to walk as casually as possible. Behind me, I could hear her following. She wasn't moving too fast. I thought maybe she thought I wouldn't notice. Still, I tried not to seem scared. Not that my legs would have been able to run anyway. I got into my building about 60 seconds before her and she was still definitely following. I kept thinking I just need to get into my apartment and lock the door before she sees which one is mine. My apartment is on the second floor, but it's a short flight of stairs and you can see my apartment door from the bottom. Bottom where the main door to the building is. I tried to run up them, but my head was swimming and my legs weren't cooperating. It's like that feeling when you're half awake and you try to move your limbs and they sort of do what you tell them, but not really. Like they feel sort of far away from you and only semi under your control. I made it up the stairs and luckily I had left my door unlocked. I got in and closed it behind me just as I heard her opening the main door to the building below me. I locked all three locks on my door and went over to the window to see if I could see her. She wasn't visible from the window, which meant she was still in my building. I texted my dad and asked if he thought I still ought to call the police. He said I should. I went into my bedroom and called 91 1. Now the windows in my bedroom show the other side of the building and the back door. The operator asked for a description and if I knew where she was now. And I told her I couldn't see her out my front windows. So I thought she was still in the building. Then suddenly I saw her walk out and stand just below my window. The 911 operator said she would send a few officers and to call them back if she left. I backed away from the window a bit. I was worried she would see me looking at her and then know which unit I was in. She looked around for a bit and then just slowly started wandering away towards a different building. Within about five minutes, three cop cars rolled in and stopped behind my apartment. They noticed her standing over by the other building looking like she might try to talk to the woman walking her dog. Two of the officers parked and went to talk to her while the third drove off. I was watching as they talked to her for a while and then eventually the man I had seen her talking to at the start came out of a different building than they had been standing in front of before and seemed to coax her in. The officers let her go and talked to the woman with the dog for a moment and then finally left. I think probably they decided she had mental health issues but wasn't actively a threat to anyone, so they let it be. Which is okay with me. I know that some people deal with chronic issues that can be a little alarming to people in their community, but most of the time don't actually pose much of a threat. Now I'm just sitting here feeling like an overdramatic fool and waiting to regain full control over my limbs and for my heart rate to go down. But the lady with the four eyebrows I really hope I never see you again. This happened a while ago and I wrote it all down for catharsis. But now it's sitting in my computer and I can't bring myself to let it go down unseen. I can't help but wonder what others would make of the situation. Situation. There are lessons here I wish I took more to heart as I have recently found myself repeating old mistakes. Maybe they're easy pitfalls. Maybe I'm stupid to understand why I allowed things to play out the way they did. It's important for you to know specific circumstances in my situation and my mindset at the time this story takes place. When I was in the military, and I will be using generic umbrella tool terms to keep things vague. I joined immediately after graduating high school and was placed in a job that required an absurd amount of schooling. It took over two years for me to finish all my schooling, and that was an average length of time for people in my field. I was about a year into my training when these events took place. Every time I try to write about where my head was at during this period, I end up spewing pages of woe is me Me cringe so I'm limiting things to a paragraph. I was experiencing a depressive episode that lasted about six months. I never had mental health issues before entering the military. Outside of that, I'll try to summarize everything else as best I can with this I was fresh from high school, away from home for the first time. Friendless, just barely passing the first physical tests, just barely within weight standards, stressed from the immense course load of the school Terrified of failing my classes after hearing the horror stories of what command does to failures. Afraid that failure in any of these areas would result in my removal from the military with a permanently stained record. Entrusting of command after the unending scandal corruption rumor recently abandoned by a long time best friend, bullied by some other girls in my unit including a roommate spiraling into depression and teetering on suicidal. My on again off again bully roommate had just graduated, leaving me alone in the room until another girl is assigned to our unit in the following months. Until then I retreated to my empty room and avoided everyone as best I could. It was towards the end of my fourth month or so period of self isolation that he showed up. As a training command every morning before class we were required to meet for morning formation. This is an administrative measure to take role and pass announcements and whatnot. When I arrived for morning formation, 10 to 15 minutes early as usual, I saw an intimidating man lurking in the small grassy area behind our meeting place at the back of the large parking lot. He was in uniform, not very tall, but unbelievably built. He looked older than most of us, but seemed likely to still be in his 20s. All of us began chattering to each other about whether or not he was waiting for our formation or something else. Since the school had such a slow turnaround rate. Everyone knew everyone, but none of us little first timers knew who this guy was. He was a low ranking nco, still higher up than us, but considering all the rest of us were of the same lower pay grade, we didn't know if we would get yelled at for asking him why he was loitering around. At least that's why I didn't say anything. No one walked up to him and he didn't so much as look at us. You may be thinking there's nothing odd about that, and I would agree with you if it were not for the fact that during the entire wait for formation to start, he stood back there by the fence facing a tree or pole or something and he just kicked at it. And it wasn't exactly the mindless gentle tapping of someone deep in thought. It was a bit more forceful than that, and I remember I wondered how his foot didn't hurt after doing it for so long. He ignored all of us, even though I'm sure he could overhear that we were all wondering what he was doing. Since he was only about 15 to 20ft away from the rest of us. I thought he seemed really angry, or maybe a little off his Rocker. But eventually another unknown NCO of the same rank joined him in the back and formation started, so we couldn't watch him anymore. Anyway, our unit commander showed up and told us that the two NCOs we saw were now a part of our unit. And with that curiosity out of the way, I lumped the new guys together with everyone else, meaning I did not give them another thought. I was sick of everyone around me, so I was just focused on passing my tests and getting out of that hellhole as soon as I could. The philosophy of the fastest way out is through was what I clung to. At some point, not long after their arrival, the NCOs were assigned duties that formed forced me to notice them. One Stan was put in charge of the weekly barracks cleaning. English wasn't his first language, so he had a tendency to ramble, and he frequently misunderstood our questions or comments. He was a pain in the ass, and I don't think he was a bad guy or anything, but he was inexperienced and left us with an impression that he was practically useless. The other Frank was placed in charge of whipping those of us who were overweight or bad at PT into shape. Lucky me. I was considered too close to being in both of those categories and was thus named an honorary member by proximity. As a part of the small handful of people selected to be in this special pt, we had to meet every weekday after school and participate in Frank's special training. Yes, Frank was that built guy that I mentioned who apparently likes to kick trees for fun. Did you know Sam's Club isn't a store? It's actually a club with cool finds. And like a whole community, it's a club. Of course, Jason. It's in the name. Sam's Club. Oh, yeah. Come join us.

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unfold he told us that he used to be a boxer and he intended to use that style of training to make sure we got fit fit and that in the worst case scenario we could at least guarantee we would make weight at any weigh in since he knew how to cut water weight. Considering I already had someone in charge of me who actively bullied me, using me being out of shape as an excuse, I remember feeling an immediate discomfort with my new situation at the time. This was not necessarily due to Frank himself, but more that I felt an intense desperation operation to make sure that he did not hate me. It seemed that within the span of one week, this guy was suddenly in charge of my whole life outside of class. He was essentially my direct supervisor, even though everything was unofficial and he had the authority to tell my actual supervisor, a fellow student of equally low rank as myself, whatever he wanted due to his rank experience and new role in my day to day day, my desperation to make sure he liked me caused me to tolerate more than I would have otherwise. During maybe the first week or so of our special PT group being started. We had just finished working out at the gym on base and it was decided that we would run back to the barracks together as a group. Frank had mentioned that he had been stationed overseas and could tell us stuff you would not believe. I don't remember if I was the one to encourage him to tell us a story, but either way I do know for sure that I did my best to seem genuinely interested in the disgusting tale he subjected us to. I won't go into it, but it involved a prostitute and a banana. I oohed and awed at the right moments and made eye contact whenever he glanced over. I even tried to ask questions to seem engaged he hadn't actually, actually finished telling his story by the time we got to the barracks and most everyone else dispersed immediately upon arrival. But I was so paranoid of getting on his bad side that I just awkwardly stood around and listened to the rest of Frank's very graphic story, a strange smile on my face as I entertained his ego. It was probably another 10 minutes before his story wrapped up, enough for me to dismiss myself under the excuse that I I desperately needed to shower and start on homework. Entertaining Frank's ego became a part of all of our interactions. I can't guarantee you that everything he said is actually true, but I can tell you with certainty that he told me all of this himself. When I asked about his time overseas, he said he learned the language there because he's really smart, so it wasn't much of a challenge for him. He said he participated in a flight fighting competition while overseas and only lost the match on a technicality because the locals didn't want a foreigner to win. When I asked about his boxing career, he told me that he trained himself by wrapping tree trunks in rope and punching them until he didn't feel the pain anymore. He was knowledgeable in many forms of combat like Taekwondo and Jiu jitsu, along with boxing. Even back then I sometimes walked wondered if Frank said all this stuff because he knew I wouldn't question him and he just wanted to see how much he could get away with. The sad thing is, I still believe most of it. Unbelievable as some of it may sound. I have asked some others who were around at the time and they have given me details that support some of his claims. Though I won't bother relaying all that to you specifically. At the end of our hours of special pt, Frank started having us ground fight at least least twice a week. These sessions involved all of us being paired up and fighting each other for a few minutes at a time. It was an exhausting and never ending circuit of switching partners and climbing all over each other covered in sweat and absolutely drained from hours of exertion. When we had to fight each other, it wasn't so bad. Mostly half hearted swipes at one another in an attempt to seem like we were fighting. We when we were paired with anyone but Frank, we were mostly taking a break on the down low, trying to conserve enough energy to put up a fight for our eventual return to Frank's mat. I don't know if all of us were truly that easy for an experienced fighter, but Frank had no problems fighting each one of us over and over for the entire duration of these sessions. Sometimes our fighting created quite a spectacle in the gym, and others would approach Frank when we were done and ask if they could fight him too. Even after hours of PT and fighting, he always held his own. And I honestly can't remember ever seeing him lose, even during these surprise bonus round matches. In case you didn't already, guess I didn't stand a chance against Frank. I can't even count the number of times I was quite literally overpowered by him during these sessions. It was incredibly, incredibly frustrating. Not only was I exhausted and hungry and thirsty, but I was also enduring his chokeholds and arm locks or whatever. I would tap out immediately as soon as they happened. Whenever I did this, he would frequently say something along the lines of already. You didn't even try to get out yet. The thing was, he wasn't teaching me how to get out. I remember I once managed to to slip out of some hold. I don't remember what kind, but his legs were wrapped around me. I wriggled my way out and managed to move to having his legs wrap around my torso instead. I had thought that put me in a better position, but instead he just started squeezing his legs. I figured there was no way it could get bad enough for me to tap out, so I still tried my best to break free. But it eventually got so painful I was afraid of internal damage and tapped out. All the sessions went this way and I felt like I just had to subject myself to getting tossed around for minutes at a time for an unknown duration of time. He never specified how long the sessions would be. Maybe Frank just called it quits once no one else had the energy to fight him anymore. I'm not really sure. I remember that. When we got into this routine pretty regularly, my mindset changed from don't make a fool of yourself to no holds barred. It's not like I can hurt this asshole anyway. Over time, as Frank and I fought, I eventually began to feel like maybe I was actually making some progress with this ground fighting bullcrap. I never managed to tap him out or anything, but I was starting to remember some holds and whatever and could implement them if only for a moment. I remember on one particular day, I wanted more than anything to make him tap out. I had managed to hold my own for longer than normal during this fight and I gained the upper hand straddling Frank across his torso as he laid on his back with both my hands around his throat. I remember thinking, finally die. I was really into the fight. I am not exaggerating When I say I was shouting die over and over in my head with my hands around his throat, I squeezed as hard as I could, but I have small hands and he was a big guy. I ended up leaning all of my weight into my hands and arms as much of my body weight was pressing down on his throat as possible and I remember my slow dawning of realization that he wasn't tapping out. My red haze cleared and I looked him in the face but he was just giving me an apathetic look at said are you done yet? I was shocked and honest to God fear zipped down my spine. I had never truly tried to hurt anyone before and yet in this moment that I can only describe as bloodlust, I had no effect on him. The moment after I looked him in the face and realized he wasn't bothered by me trying to choke him at all, he threw me off of him. I'm not sure how it happened so suddenly. And then he literally picked me up off the ground and threw me like a sack of potatoes. I had never felt so weak and unable to defend myself. I didn't land particularly hard or anything. We were on mats, but knowing how much more powerful he was than me never left my mind after that. There are a few other moments from those PT sessions that come to mind in that way way that came to mind because something about that moment or comment or look lodged itself in my head as a warning I would immediately ignore. But the same time that the special PT started, Frank insisted on helping me with my diet. Initially this was totally understandable as one of those ones struggling with my weight. This seemed within reason and I was actually looking forward to some direction. The on base food facilities were a joke with a nutritional value equivalent to my crappy public elementary school lunch menu. For this reason, Frank insisted I start cooking my own meals in my room, which I'm fairly certain wasn't allowed, even though a few people chose to do that. The other problem with this idea though is that the base I was on only had a giant supply store that sold no groceries, produce or meat. Frank insisted I would have to go to another nearby base that he was familiar with to buy my groceries. I told him I wasn't sure I could adjust to grocery shopping with my schedule and I didn't know how to cook and I would end up wasting too much time and money, especially since money for food from our on base facilities was a non optional fee. Frank offered to take me shopping and help pick good foods to teach me how to cook. I was reluctant and brushed off the offers, explaining that he probably isn't allowed to take me somewhere, that people might get the wrong idea if they found out we were out somewhere alone. In answer to this, Frank turned one of our special PT sessions into a field trip to said grocery store at the other base and used it as an opportunity to teach us how to shop for healthy foods. And while we were there, Frank pointed out the tools he thought I needed to buy so that I could start cooking in my room. Rice cooker, basic cutlery, etc. Our entire special PT group was there at the store on the field trip, and yet Frank led us around as an aimless gaggle so that he and I could gather everything I would need to start cooking in my room and make a few meals. I really didn't want to buy all the stuff I did as it felt like I was being forced into committing to attack. I wasn't sure I wanted to take on, but being told by Frank in front of my peers that I should just go ahead and buy it while we're here made me feel like I couldn't say no. My main priority was to keep him from hating me and if I disagreed with him in front of his subordinates, I thought he might get mad. I convinced myself that it was for my own good that I cooked healthier meals and bought everything he told me to. I think it was the next day when he came by my room. It was evening, I was working on schoolwork or studying and felt largely settled in for the night. I heard the loud bang of the hallway door opening, followed by a knock on my door. It's Frank and he says it was time for us to cook dinner. I was baffled. Sure it was dinner time and he had told me he would teach me to cook, but I didn't know he was to going going to show up to my room at night and let himself in and start cooking dinner. I honestly don't remember much of that night since it went about how you might expect. I don't remember if I even helped much with the cooking or if he just did everything. But what I remember from the experience was the intense anxiety of doing something I wasn't allowed to do cook in my room with someone who technically shouldn't be there, an NCO with so subordinate a male and female room, etc way after work hours. He told me it was fine because he used to cook in the barracks all the time, that he was in charge of my fitness and that includes diet. So technically he's just being a good mentor I was desperate for reassurance, so I accepted his excuses even if I didn't agree with them. I just figured the quickest way to get him out was just to finish the task. Also, I'm sorry that I can't remember for sure, but I think the door to the room was left open. I do know at least that the other people living in my hall knew he was there with me and that we were cooking food, which made me even more anxious. Although I had a roommate at this point, so she was in there too. But even with the door open, he shouldn't just be hanging out in a room. Regardless, that night triggered the strike of the rumors that circulated in speculation of our relationship, but of course I didn't hear about those until after everything. I didn't have to hear them to know they were happening, though it's expected in a place like that. It's very hard to keep secrets from the lower enlisted because they are everywhere and scandals spread like wildfire. After that first night of cooking, he started coming by more often. At least that's how I remember it. I used to never see him outside of work things and the PT stuff, but now we seemed to be hanging out around the barracks over the weekend. I didn't think too much of it at the time. I was a bit of a loner who stuck to a room, so I figured he had always been around and I was just never seeing him. There were five other halls besides mine, and I just assumed he lived in the first one in his own room like the other NCO Stan. I lived on the top floor though with the rest of his unofficial subordinates. He started knocking on my door every time he came by, checking in on me, I guess. I think I would just awkwardly loiter in my doorway and make small talk until he would leave. I started hearing rumors from my peers that he was always really drunk when he was roving the halls on the weekends. They told me that he also never scanned a key card to enter the hallways. He would just kick the lock hard enough that he could open it. I thought that was ridiculous and I didn't believe it. But I asked around and everyone confirmed the rumor. I asked my roommate, who is not someone who would exaggerate or play into stupid rumors, and she also confirmed it. Most people had seen him do it by then, and it was always much louder than just opening the door. Normally he stopped by even more during the weekends when he was the NCO on duty since he had to stay there working for 24 hours as a glorified hall monitor. It meant that he was stopping by my room almost every hour as he made his rounds. At least he probably wasn't drunk on those, but those were frustrating since they were so frequent. I don't quite remember the timing of this memory, but I believe it was around the point that Frank insisted I try this food I had never had before. He told me that there was a great place in town where we could go get some. I reminded him that we shouldn't go anywhere together, and it just so happened that Frank had a solution to that little issue. Stan would come with us, of course. Genius, because it's not fraternization if there's two NCOs out on the town with a subordinate. Each NCO would just supervise the other. That's how Frank explained it, anyway. I seriously doubted it, but he wouldn't accept my feeble excuses as to why we probably shouldn't. There's nothing too specific about the outing to mention other than my overall impression that the whole affair felt strangely like some kind of supervised date on the first morning of a long weekend off. All. All Friday Monday, I opted to go to an optional PT session with the special group because Frank was making me feel guilty for considering skipping it since I would then be free of everyone for the rest of the weekend. I agreed. I figured it would get him off my back. PT was going fine, but then we did an exercise where we paired up and ran around carrying each other. I was paired up with this dude who's extra about pt. He was there for fun, unlike me. When it came time to carry me though, he started sprinting and booked it across the field. Of course, the idiot trips. The fall threw both of us forward. With my right ankle being the first thing between us and the ground. I tried to walk it off but couldn't and ended up sitting out the rest of pt. Lo and behold, PT PT ended and I still couldn't walk. My ankle couldn't hold any of my weight at all and I wondered if maybe it was broken. It didn't hurt too badly if I didn't try to use it though, so I figured it was just a really bad sprain. Either way, I was in no shape to walk home and anyone with a car had left it at the barracks, including me. I honestly hate talking about this next point part. It's one of those things that I just feel so weirdly self conscious about, and there's really no way I can avoid being direct because otherwise it's impossible to understand. When it came to Getting my injured ass home. Frank insisted on carrying me back himself. Even at the first suggestion, I was already like, yeah, no way. But then he further explained that the easiest way to carry me would be if I sat on his shoulders. You know, like how a parent holds up a child for a parade. Except I'm a whole ass grown woman and we've all been sweating our asses off for like three hours now, so I don't exactly feel like having a sweaty bald head up against my sweaty crotch. As he starts walking the agonizing 30 minutes home, like literally every part of that sounds like everything I never wanted. I looked to the others for help avoiding the situation. Couldn't someone run back and get my car to drive me home? Oh no, the traffic is too terrible. It would take longer than walking. Couldn't we do a group carry? Wouldn't that be faster? Long story short, no. The others tried some group carries at first, but the whole affair was so slow moving and impractical that everyone's exasperated and expressions were enough to coerce me into dropping the idea. I tell the others they can just go home and start their weekend. I can just hobble and take breaks and I'll get there. Eventually, Frank convinces them that they can leave because he'll stay with me. I expected that and say nothing of it. He lets me hobble along without saying a word. But every time I flinch too hard or stop to take a break, he reminds me of how quick, quickly, he could carry me back on his shoulders. I moved very slowly. After maybe the sixth time or so, I was sick of the pain in my ankle and thirsty enough to finally give in to his offer of getting home sooner. It was a bitter pill to swallow, not only because Frank unnerved me for reasons I couldn't entirely justify, but also the whole reason I was even hurt in the first place was because some jerk overestimated himself and dropped me. I couldn't exactly say I was thrilled to then have my untreated injured ass carried home in one of the most inexplicably humiliating and precariously balanced ways possible. What did I have to grip his bald, sweaty head? What am I gonna do? Clamp my thighs around his skull? Absolutely not. Accepting a ride home on Frank's shoulders was a weirdly humiliating experience for me. I don't know how else to explain myself. Additionally, my long, glorious weekend that was supposed to be lots of needed solitude for me to decompress was instead intruded because you'll never guess who decided to come visit multiple Times throughout the weekend. It was Frank and he felt bad I got injured, so of course he would come to keep his subordinate company so she wouldn't be alone for the entire long weekend. And you'll never guess how I felt about that. After all, who wouldn't want to spend their weekend in their bedroom with just their supervisor? The first time he knocked on the door, I had assumed it was the guy who caused my injury. That guy did end up visiting later that weekend to keep me company for a couple hours and drop off some I'm sorry you can't walk chocolates that I definitely couldn't eat on my diet. But no. Instead of the friendly face I expected, I was met with immediate scoldings from Frank. What are you doing on your feet? Go. You shouldn't be standing up. Go lay down. He immediately shooed at me with his hands and stepped into the room. I backed away, retreating into my half of the room, and hopped all the way to my bed, which was in the back around the corner. I was caught off guard and confused.

[B]

Confused.

[A]

But Frank kept chiding me about how I needed to go lay down so I couldn't get a word in. Before I knew it, I was back in bed with Frank sitting at my bedside. Maybe that doesn't sound so bad, but like I said, I was tucked in a corner of the room and cut off from the door. My area was crammed with not only my own issued furniture, but an extra set in case a third roommate was assigned to the room. There was really only enough space to walk in a straight line, and that space was being occupied by my massive supervisor. Of course, the cherry on top is how I slept on the bottom bunk of a double rack, so being tucked into the corner with wooden slats for climbing on either side. My only point of entry was at the thin strip of open ground Frank was occupying. The space between the top and bottom bunks was too narrow for me to sit upright, so I was forced to lay down or lounge. However, since my fall, I had taken to looping a scarf in the supports of the top bunk to elevate my injured leg so as to avoid putting weight on my ankle. Frank spotted the scarf and asked why it was hanging there. I explained the use and he told me that I should be comfortable and therefore use it. Since I didn't know how to explain why that would make me feel awkward and I also didn't have any other way to lie in my bed without pain, I complied. I felt very much like the subject of a diorama at that point, boxed in on all sides but one. On display in my pajamas like a regrettably conscious Snow White, except instead of glass to protect me, all I had was the suffocating illusion of civility. Frank told me he felt bad for my injury and said that he's going to keep me company throughout the weekend to help me look after my ankle. Now that I think about it, I think he was the one who wrapped my ankle that first day too. During the weekend's holidays, the on base medical unit wasn't open, so if it wasn't an emergency, we just waited it out. The only thing I remember about that awkward time spent on that first day on the long weekend was his strange request. Do you have any string? Confused, I told him that I don't and asked him why he needed some. He told me he liked to play Cat's Cradle and asked if I've ever played before. I told him I've heard of the game but never played it. He asked if I am sure I don't have any he can use. I told him that if he wanted to play so badly, he can use the laces of my spare boots. By time them together, he does just that and creates a large loop out of the laces. He tried to teach me how to play the game, but I wasn't very interested, so I also wasn't very good at it. Besides, one of the annoying things about Frank was that he liked to poke fun at me in the game of Cat's Cradle. This manifested in him trapping my hands in the loops whenever I made a mistake. I eventually got so fed up that I but I stopped playing even though he was bugging me to just keep trying since it wasn't as fun alone. But it wasn't like he was trying to help me improve. I could tell he just liked messing with me, so I rebuffed his persistence. After examining my injured ankle and rewrapping it for support, Frank eventually left. He visited me more often than I would have preferred throughout that weekend, spending what felt like hours at a time in my room. To be honest, I'm not sure how long he actually was spending with me. I just know I wished it was less. I know this final part happened at some point during that long weekend, but I honestly cannot remember at what point exactly. The second night, Third last. I don't suppose it matters since in the end it's so prominent over everything else, but this memory is actually the reason I felt inclined to chronicle these events. Frank's visit had started like any of the others, and while I did not learn to appreciate the visits, I did learn to expect them. I noticed he had taken to barking at me to get back in bed as soon as he stepped inside my room, even though I was usually alone and therefore the only one who could answer the door. Maybe I was needlessly paranoid, but I didn't like that he was able to yell me into my bed as soon as he barged in. So this time I had leaned over from a distance and opened the door slightly, letting him push it the rest of the way open to buy me an extra second to round the corner of the room. My plan worked, actually, leaving me thrilled as I settled into my chair. I pulled the other nearby chair out for him and asked him to sit before he could say anything else. This still placed him between me and the door, and I was still confined in that tiny square of space, but at least I was seated upright. I felt a little better. I don't quite remember how things led to this next part. Sometimes I think maybe he didn't like that stuff I pulled with preparing chairs for both of us, but other times I think that I'm overthinking the unimportant things. It had become a regular thing for him to fiddle with that loose of bootlaces during his visits. He was a restless guy, usually fidgeting in some way or another. He had probably asked me to play cat's cradle again. I probably said no again. Maybe that pissed him off. Who knows? He started talking, telling a story, presumably. He unties one of the knots of the loop, reverting the laces to one long strand. He's talking about his deployment, learning all kinds of knots, and rope tying. He uses the strand to demonstrate some. I don't think I was listening very attentively because he suddenly bends forward in his chair and grabs my uninjured ankle. He's still talking, saying something about how it's easier to just show you. I freeze up, attempting to register what's happening while scrambling to come up with a respectful way to tell him I'm not comfortable. Before I can get a word out, the laces are wrapped around my ankle and the leg of my desk. He continues to talk the whole time, but the only part I remember was when he was finished tying the knot. They use these knots when tying up insurgents because it actually tightens when you struggle. Yeah, they actually have to cut these off, in my opinion. It felt tight enough already. I didn't try to remove myself. He finished the knot and his explanation so he asked to untie me now. Right? That's what I was telling myself. At least until he spoke again. You probably can't get out of that. I had no idea what to do. I couldn't even truly believe the situation I suddenly found myself in. Despite all my caution. It didn't matter. Because there I was, trapped in a corner with my one good ankle tied to a piece of furniture, and I just sat there and watched it happen. I felt so stupid. And even then I couldn't tell if I was stupid because I let that happen or because I was merely wildly misconstruing a very innocent situation. Surely he just didn't realize how vulnerable I might be feeling. Right? Surely he's just that completely unaware of his dominating presence. Right? But at the same time, that part of me I was trying so hard to ignore was screaming at me that he was a threat, that his words were a challenge and to respond would fire the starting gun. Could I try to untie myself, still unsure of his intent? I feared it would escalate things. Should I tell him to untie me? He could easily say no, which would confirm what I was still trying to deny. Should I ask him? I imagined it would come across as begging, which seemed just as bad. These doubts and fears flooded my mind and froze me in place, resulting in me staring cautiously at him. I stalled as I tried to process my situation and determine my reaction. I stalled in the hopes that Frank would take simply untie me like he should have. As soon as he finished his explanation. I stared expectantly, like untying me was unquestioningly inevitable. And somehow it worked. Next thing I remember, Frank leans down and frees my ankle. I was relieved, of course, but I hardly remember anything outside of that. This incident in particular is why I feel so compelled to write this. No one outside of Frank and I knew about that bizarre event. Even that night as I laid in bed, I doubted that something like that had really happened. And even when I accepted that it did, I seriously doubted that it was as sketchy as I was making it out to be. Was I right in feeling threatened? Or was I simply blowing things out of proportion? How am I supposed to feel about what happened? Why did Frank think that was okay to do? Did he mean something by it, like I feared he did? Even if I told someone, what would I say? After all, nothing happened. And I felt like I had no one to tell that wouldn't just screw me over for it. I endured being under Frank's leadership as a member of his unofficial program for what felt like a lifetime, but in reality could only have been a couple of months at most. My father final hurdle for earning my freedom was to pass the upcoming fitness test within the standards of my unit commander. Along with taking our fitness test, our weight was checked the day before. This final stretch of time was absolutely miserable. Just making weight wasn't enough. I had to be certain range within weight for no reason other than because it makes the unit's reports look better. I guess. I don't know. This meant Frank had me cutting water weight like a pro boxer before a big tournament. The details don't matter too much for this, but it did mean extra training on top of the extra training I was already doing, along with a literal starvation diet. On the night before the weigh in, Frank stops by my room and drops off a half full handle of whiskey. Not only was hard liquor not allowed in the barracks at all, but I was also underage, so I wasn't supposed to have alcohol of any kind. I tried to tell him I didn't want it, but he told me it was really important that I take it from him and drink as much as I can that night. I was a good kid, so I never really imbibed, but even I knew that drinking lots of liquor on an empty and dehydrated stomach was a terrible idea. Looking back on it, I think he was assuming I would throw up a bunch which would help me purge more weight. But honestly, I think if I had actually done as he instructed, I would have ended up in the er. I hadn't had a proper meal in weeks and I had been actively dehydrating for almost 24 hours at that point. I ended up hiding the bottle in my room for a few very uncomfortable months until I dropped it off at a random house party I somehow got invited to when I was still still justifying Frank's actions. I told myself that he probably thought he was being helpful, like some kind of cool older friend. And he didn't stop to think about how his subordinate might feel being pushed to accept his contraband and underage drink at his request. With just a little more misery, I passed my way in the following morning and the physical test following that, I was also slated for a six week internship thing. My grades were just barely good enough that I got to go on a trip to learn more about my job in the real world. I was gone for what felt like much longer and had a blast. Actually, it was really nice to get away from the place I felt so trapped in. Upon my return, my roommate informed me that Frank had stopped by quite a few times while I was gone. She told me she thought it was weird that he seemed impatient for my return. The look on her face told me she was concerned, but I brushed it off. I was in a good mood. I didn't want to think about that. Since returning from my internship, I had nondescriptly faded back out of the attention of my unit commanders. I was within all weight and fitness standards, doing well enough in class to feel comfortable, and my old bullies had graduated out of the unit, so I felt largely un unseen and safe, no longer feeling like I was constantly under watch. I was also plugging back into the people around me, starting to make friends with some of the newer people I had never noticed when I was so wrapped up in my stuff, including my new roommate. Things were looking up, so I guess that was why I decided to dismiss any lingering unease regarding Frank's previous behavior. I don't remember anything leading up to this weird final visit from Frank. I was focused on schoolwork just like any other night. Though oddly enough, I remember that I had Batman Begins playing on my computer in the background. I was writing up flashcards when there was a knock on the door. My roommate's portion of the room is closer to the door, but we both have to guess as to who has stopped by. I walk over and answer. Surprise, surprise. It's Frank. I am really annoyed by his visits at this point. I let him catch the door before it closes to come in if he wants, and silently return to my desk without greeting him. I sit back down and continue scribbling my flashcards on autopilot as I wonder what he could possibly want now. I get through a few cards before I realize that he definitely should have said something by then. I pause as I notice that he's just silently standing behind me. I look back at him questioningly, my annoyance thinly veiled. It's kind of blurry, this memory. At one point my roommate told him he's too drunk to be there. At least she told me that happened. I don't actually remember hearing that in the moment myself, but I suppose that isn't very surprising. I was probably busy pausing my cartoon or something. I do remember the part where she mentioned she was going to get the person on guard duty that night if Frank didn't leave. I guess they argued briefly, but I don't remember the specifics and I only remember feeling really confused by the whole thing at the time. I missed that he was totally wasted and I didn't understand why she felt it was necessary to fetch the guard. As far as I could tell, she was in extra mad at him for no discernible reason. She ends up storming out of the room when the door clicked shut behind her. The silence was tense. I was still confused, feeling like I missed something very important. I eyed Frank, who continued to silently stare at me in a way I didn't understand. Feeling unnerved, I turned around and attempted to return my attention to my flashcards. I heard the rustle of Frank's clothing as he moved to stand against the back of my chair. I felt a panic I couldn't understand. Nothing had happened yet, so why was I suddenly regretting how much skin my PJs were showing? Why did I feel such horrific foreboding? I think maybe there was a brief conversation, a few words exchanged. If there were, I don't remember them. I just remember twisting slightly in my chin to peer up and over my shoulder at Frank as he looked down at me and then suddenly realizing that Frank's face was getting much too close for comfort. I maintained a perfect distance from him as his face approached mine. We moved like the negative ends of two magnets. Him approaching and me retreating. With each inch traversed, my heart and thoughts raced faster and faster. What was he doing? Why was he getting so close to me? Why did it seem like he's trying to kiss me? Oh God, what if he is? Fight or flight kicks in hard. Because in that moment I had one overwhelming desire to run. Right then, right at that moment. But I was sitting nearly tucked underneath my desk in my very stationary and not at all rolly chair with Frank towering behind me. Even if I scooted my chair out and managed to stand, being backed into the corner as I was, the only place I could move to was my very boxed in bed. That certainly didn't seem like a good idea since the only change that would result in is moving any possible confrontation to my equally inescapable bed. It didn't look like I could run, but I already knew I couldn't fight. Not Frank. I had experienced his physical dominance over me firsthand. It was practically the first thing I learned about him. So I already knew I didn't stand a chance. I couldn't run. I couldn't fight. So I froze. I stared just like before, but this time my bewilderment was clearly displayed on my face. I couldn't believe what was happening, that what I worked so hard to convince myself to be mere delusion was in fact a justified paranoia of the inappropriate one sided attraction Frank harbored for me that despite my previous experience with him tying me, I once again found myself in an uncomfortably compromising and potentially volatile situation. Just as he is about to cross the line by kissing me, Frank pauses, then pulls back a bit. I continue my bug eyed look of pure what the hellness and he briefly chuckles to himself through his nose. I feel an immediate distaste fill me as I wonder what's so funny. I am terrified and he thinks this is all some kind of joke, but in half a second I am again ready to supply reasons all this to be merely happening in my head. He didn't do it. So does this mean I'm in the clear that he doesn't actually want to do anything shady with me? Or at the very least that he would never actually try to go through with anything yet? Instead morphing into Ashton Kutcher to announce that I just got pranked like I was hoping, Frank turns his head to kiss my bare shoulder. It was a very soft touch, a quick peck, but it immediately dispelled any ideas that I had that I might have been imagining his intent. He stepped away from me completely just as the door to the room opened. I was twisted in my chair tracking his movements when I saw my roommate round the corner to my portion of the room with the guard in tow. Frank walked out with the guard, real chummy like his behavior akin to being picked up from a party by a friend. I could see the relief in the guard's face that he wouldn't have to try and convince that mini Hulk to leave. I think my roommate asked me if anything happened while she was gone. I probably said no, I'm fine or whatever. I'm really not sure. I didn't really talk to anyone about it. I know that in the years since I tried to ask my roommate about that night, but she was only willing to talk about it briefly one time. I am not really sure why, but it means I don't really know much on her perspective on how things played out. I later found out that that night had been a large source of gossip for a while, though it took a few other events unrelated to me before people started asking about it directly. While that night was my last notable personal interaction with him, Frank was around for a few more months. Oddly enough, I stopped seeing him so much after that drunken night in my room, but I wasn't going to look that gift horse in the mouth. However, I did start to hear things. Things about him, about how he got pulled from classes due to a fight with someone with another unit, he apparently held up his classmate by the throat because he disrespected him. I know that sounds so stereotypical, and I didn't believe it either, but that's actually what happened. He also later had a breakdown at a public event that resulted in him hopping all the nearest fences to leave the base and run barefoot all the way to his home miles away off base. Because. Oh yeah, by the way, Frank didn't live in the barracks like I had assumed. No, of course not. Why? Because he was married and they even had a kid. This man who imposed himself on my life to make weird advances on me had a wife and child that he completely failed to mention in the many hours we spent together. Anyway, so after his assault of a clown classmate and public mental breakdown, he ended up getting demoted and separated, which is probably why I never saw him much after I left his leadership. I hope we don't. But if we ever meet again, maybe we'll be fortunate enough to not recognize each other.