Transcript
Narrator (0:00)
What do you think makes the perfect snack?
AM PM Spokesperson (0:02)
Hmm. It's gotta be when I'm really craving it and it's convenient.
Narrator (0:05)
Could you be more specific?
AM PM Spokesperson (0:06)
When it's cravinient.
Narrator (0:08)
Okay.
AM PM Spokesperson (0:08)
Like a freshly baked cookie made with real butter, available right down the street at a.m. p.m. Or a savory breakfast sandwich I can grab in just a.
AM PM Voice (0:15)
Second at a.m. p.m.
Narrator (0:16)
I'm seeing a pattern here.
AM PM Spokesperson (0:17)
Well, yeah, we're talking about what I.
Narrator (0:19)
Crave, which is anything from AM pm.
AM PM Spokesperson (0:21)
What more could you want?
Lowes Announcer (0:22)
Stop by AM PM where the snacks and drinks are perfectly craveable and convenient. That's cravenience.
Narrator (0:27)
AM PM Too much. Good stuff.
Grainger Maintenance Worker Narrator (0:30)
This is the story of the world. As head of maintenance at a concert hall, he knows the show must always go on. That's why he works behind the scenes, ensuring every light is working, the H Vac is humming, and his facility shines with Grainger's supplies and solutions for every challenge he faces. Plus 24. 7 customer support. His venue never misses a beat. Call quickgranger.com or just stop by Granger for the ones who get it done.
Narrator (1:05)
It was my junior year of undergrad. That weird period during COVID when campuses were letting only a handful of students back. Since I was an ra, I returned. The campus was desolate, but I didn't mind it. My school owned a stretch of woods where the trail started private, but eventually fed into the public paths. To avoid feeling trapped in my dorm, I'd go for long walks there. It was winter and the trails were frozen. A river ran alongside the path, its surface sealed over with ice. The trails were typically empty. I'd usually have my headphones in, music blasting. But I still tried to stay aware of my surroundings. I'm an avid horror story listener, after all. I don't know exactly how long the trail is, but. But toward the end, there's a bench. In the spring, students would gather there to swim. For me, the bench was more like a marker. It meant the trail was about to get narrower and higher, with the river running stronger beside it. Even in winter, you could see the water moving under a thin layer of ice. The trail eventually ended in a public parking lot. And as I got closer, I saw a man. At first, there was nothing unusual about him. He looked normal. Late 30s, maybe 40. White with a beanie, denim jeans and a light colored jacket. Nothing about his appearance screamed dangerous. But the moment I saw him, my stomach tightened. Something in me just reacted. It was pure instinct. I don't want to walk near this man. So I discreetly Lowered my music and kept moving toward the lot. He passed me, and I let out a quiet breath of relief. Since I had to walk back the same way I came, I waited a little so the man could get far enough ahead. That way we wouldn't end up too close on the trail. When I finally started walking again, I kept my pace slow. I told myself I was overthinking it, too many horror stories in my head. But everything changed when I reached the bench. He was sitting there. It was the middle of winter, freezing cold, and he was just sitting. I didn't say anything. I just kept moving forward. After a while, I risked a casual glance over my shoulder. My stomach dropped. He was walking behind me. I still had a long way to go before I'd reach campus, and all I could think was, I can't run. Running would only alert him that I knew he was behind me. Plus, the trail was covered in ice. If I tried to sprint and slipped, I'd be done. So instead, I quickened my pace, forcing myself to not look back too often. Normally, I carried either my Exacto blade or my heavy hydro flask for protection, but that day, of course, I'd left both behind. I cursed under my breath. Sometimes there were other people on the trail, but that day it was just me. I debated calling Campus Safety or even a friend, but all I could focus on was just making it back. I think he noticed I was picking up my pace, because when I glanced back, he let out this low chuckle like he was in on a joke. I wasn't. That sound made me shiver more than the cold weather ever could. I was nearing the campus portion of the trail when I saw a woman with a huge dog. I can't even explain the relief. I had ready to tell her someone was following me, but when I turned around, he was gone. Just like that, right out of thin air. I didn't waste the chance. There are three separate entrances from campus to the trail, and I darted up the closest and steepest one, cutting straight into the quad. Even as I walked back to my dorm, I kept glancing over my shoulder, my nerves stretched tight. Honestly, if that woman and her dog wasn't there, I think he would have continued following me. Once inside, I called Campus Safety, trying to report a strange man on campus property. They literally brushed me off, said they'd sent someone out. Then they hung up without even asking for a description. The scariest part wasn't that anything happened. It was the feeling of being trapped, not being able to run, knowing he was right behind me. And now not even knowing who he was. When I called my parents, hoping for comfort, they just scolded me, told me that I shouldn't be walking in the woods alone, that as a brown girl, no one would bat an eye if I went missing. Funny enough, that didn't stop me from going back into the woods. But after that, well, I never stepped onto those trails without my X Acto blade in my pocket.
