Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 9x02: Don't Watch Me Sleep - Let's Not Meet
Episode Date: August 15, 2022-UPCOMING LIVE SHOWS-  THURSDAY, AUGUST 25, 2022 - SEATTLE, WA - TRIPLE DOOR (NEW VENUE!) (CLICK HERE FOR TICKETS) FRIDAY, AUGUST 26, 2022 - PORTLAND, OR - POLARIS HALL (CLICK HERE FOR TICKE...TS) Stories in this episode: - A Home Intruder Came Into My Room One Night, by ArtSasquatch (1:44) - Followed From The Underpass, by Nazza24_7 (7:14) - My Former Roommate Threatened To Kill Me, by Tortured Chef (14:55) - Creeper Story, by Lady Coconut (30:34) - The Man Who Hired People to Watch Me Sleep, by Dia (41:06) Extended Patreon Content: - Man in the Motel, by Sofia - Always Trust Your Gut, by Katelyn - The Janitor Was a Killer, by Jennifer - Untitled by Elisa - I Think He Killed My Mother, by Dymir To help fund our TV Pilot of Let's Never Meet and get access to a bunch of awesome perks head over to letsnotmeettv.com today! All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. To submit your story to the show, send it to letsnotmeetstories@gmail.com.  Get access to extended, ad-free episodes of Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast with bonus stories every week at a higher bitrate along with a bunch of other great exclusive material and merch at patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast. This podcast would not be possible to continue at this rate without the help of the support of the legendary LNM Patrons. Come join the family! Don't forget to check out this week's episode of my other podcast Odd Trails for your true paranormal fix as well as the first episode of my new podcast the Old Time Radiocast all at crypticcountypodcasts.com. Make the switch to PrettyLitter TODAY! Get 20% off your first order by visiting Prettylitter.com and use promo code MEET. Go to HelloFresh.com/lnm16 and use code lnm16 for up to 16 free meals across 7 boxes and 3 free gifts. This podcast is sponsored by BetterHelp and my listeners get 10% off their first month at betterhelp.com/MEET. - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/crypticcounty Â
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Enjoy the show.
My name is Andrew Tate and this is season 9 episode 2 of Let's Not Meet the True Horror Podcast. Welcome to the show I have some very important news for Seattle ticket holders for the show
on August 25th.
Due to a scheduling issue, the show at the Neptune and Seattle Washington will now take
place at the triple door.
All tickets will be honored, you won't have to do anything else except show up.
And for any reason you do need a refund, please contact your point of purchase and they'll
be able to help you out.
I want to say thanks to the triple door for being so accommodating, it's a great venue,
and I'm really excited to see you all there.
You can still get tickets at Let'sNotMeatPodcast.com forward slash tour, or just follow the links in
the show notes.
But we have some terrifying tales to get to this week, so let's jump right in.
Enjoy the show.
I'm a 27 year old woman, and this happened to me nine or 10 years ago when I was a senior in high school. We lived in a pretty large house, but my siblings were all
away at college or boarding school, so it was only my parents and I in the house.
I'm a crazy light sleeper, so when I woke up in the dark and saw my alarm clock flashing 311 AM,
I wasn't too surprised. However, I was wide awake, not just grogally stirring
in my sleep. I lay there, wondering what had woken me up, when I hear very soft footsteps
on the stairs outside my bedroom. The door to my room was parallel to the left side of
the bed, and I happened to be laying with my back to the
door. When the footsteps approached my door, I thought it must be one of my parents
checking on me for some reason. Then the door knob was turned so slowly. Still, I thought
they were trying not to wake me up. The door began to open, again slowly, and carefully.
It made a creaking noise, no matter how slowly it was opened,
so the person finally shoved at the rest of the way
to silence the creak.
Still, my night Evebrain thought that it was one of my parents
until a flashlight clicked on.
I froze.
Terror flooded my insides.
I remember that I instantly broke out in a sweat.
They were behind me.
I was facing away so they couldn't see my eyes.
They couldn't see that they were wide open as they shone the beam straight on me.
I always used to think that if something like that were to happen, I would be such a bad
ass, I would whip out of my bed and punch them, attack them, shout, scream, do anything,
but I couldn't do a thing.
All I could do was try to keep my breath deep and even, despite the pounding of my heart, so that the
intruder wouldn't know that I was awake. After about ten minutes, they finally moved
the light away. I prayed and begged and bartered with anything that would listen to me, as the
intruder walked around my room, looking at my things. I could vaguely see their shape,
large and bulky, like they were wearing two coats. I had a baseball cap on. They didn't shine
the flashlight on me again, and after a few minutes, which felt like an eternity, they finally left
my room. But I could still hear them, walking about the rest of the second floor,
through my siblings' empty bedrooms.
I was still sweating, still frozen and terror, not knowing what to do.
I wanted to grab my phone and to call my dad.
He was sleeping downstairs.
I wanted to call our landline so that the phone would ring and wake my parents up.
I wanted to call the police. I wanted to get up and run from my room. I wanted to cry.
But I couldn't do any of these things. I was afraid that they would hear me,
and I didn't know if they had a weapon or if they would try to hurt me or my parents.
I wouldn't wish such helpless terror on my worst
enemy. I don't know how, but I must have passed out from fear or the adrenaline wore off and I
fell asleep somehow, because the next thing I knew, it was 6am and I could hear my parents downstairs.
I ran downstairs and as calmly as I could I asked them if one of them had been
in my room that night. Their faces went blank. They said no, they had not. That was the last
straw. I broke down in sobs and I told them someone was in my room last night. Even as I
typed this, my hands had begun shaking and I'm tearing
up. The police were called, even though there was little that they could do at this point.
Apparently, when my parents woke up, all of the doors to the outside were standing wide
open, and there was a duffle bag at the bottom of the stairs. All that was inside was a coil of nylon rope in an empty USB flash drive.
I don't want to think about what it was for. The intruder hadn't taken a thing, and we have no
idea why they left and what appeared to be a hurry. It took me about a week to be able to sleep in my own room, a sanctuary which felt violated
and frightening to me now.
My carry pepper spray, sleep with the machete next to my bed, and double check my
locks every night.
Hopefully this will never happen again, but if it does, I won't freeze.
It's been ten years, and my most common nightmare is that someone is in my room
standing in the shadows, watching me.
This happened around 4 months ago. I debated on whether or not I should share this because I wasn't sure if I was being paranoid
since I watched a lot of true crime.
Looking back now, it creeps me out to think of what could have happened if I hadn't acted
as I did.
Yeah, sure, I could still be paranoid, but something in my gut says that I wasn't.
I get back to my gate from a small path at the start of a creek, just off the main road.
You can go the longer way around to get to my front door, but usually I just take the
back gate because it's quicker.
The creek is on the left side of the path surrounded by trees.
The local council has a problem with how many bats live there.
On the right side of the path you see the backs of houses, some have gates like mine.
If you follow the main road for a bit, there's an underpass that is always covered with
graffiti.
It always gets painted over, only for more graffiti to appear in the cycle continues.
I was hanging out with a friend, and we went on a bike ride, and we had a picnic before
school would start back up again.
It had gotten pretty dark by that point, and I was heading back.
I went through the underpass, which, in itself, is a sketchy
thing to do at night, especially considering that I was a 16-year-old, 5'4' female.
I got on to the main road and started riding in the bike lane, and I noticed all of the
bats in the sky. It was rather pretty, actually. I also noticed two cars by the curb on the other side of the road with their lights on.
One of the cars was black and had tinted windows and the other one was a bigger four-wheel-drive
car, also black with tinted windows that had a mattress tied to the roof.
I just assumed that someone was having a party or whatever and kept biking. I heard cars behind me, but that's not unusual considering it is a main road, even if it
does get pretty quiet at night.
They slowed down so that they were driving behind me, which was odd.
I was guessing it was because they didn't want to hit me.
I mean, no one was on the other side of the road, I was in the bicycle lane, they could have just overtaken me if
they wanted to.
I found myself biking even faster because I felt like I was the reason they were driving
so slow.
As I was thinking about this, a car overtook me, but didn't speed off.
It remained driving at my speed, but in front of me.
It was then that I noticed there had been a car behind that car that was also driving
at my speed, but behind me.
Needless to say, I felt craped out.
I was being sandwiched between these two cars, and I realized that they were
the same ones that were parked at the other side of the road earlier. The fact that they were
pretty much the exact same car, you think of when you think of a creepy car, didn't help.
I kept biking until I got to the path by the creek that I usually take to get to my back gate.
I was having second thoughts, though. It was dark. Not many people take that path,
and it was surrounded by trees. Not to mention how creeped out I felt by what was happening with
these cars. I thought it would be best if I turned down the path because these cars would probably
just keep driving.
But the second I thought of that, the four-wheel drive in front of me indicated it was going
to the curb just in front of the path.
No, this is not happening.
No way was I going down that path considering that there was no reason that someone would
pull up there.
There wasn't an entrance to anyone's house nearby or anything except the darkness of
the creek.
I was going to go the long way around. I overtook the four-wheel drive that had now pulled up to the curb to continue along my bike lane and the long way around to my house. As I overtook this four-wheel
drive, it indicated it was going to leave the curb. They hadn't even been there 10 seconds when the car that was behind me stopped to let them out.
The four-wheel drive went back to sandwiching me with that of their car.
Pretty much any remaining thought I had of this being a coincidence went out the window.
I turned up the path that goes to the main road when the cars noticed this, they too, did the same.
By this point, my heart was beating so fast.
I came up with a split second plan.
I needed to turn left at the T intersection
to get to my house, but I didn't want to risk
these cars knowing where I lived.
So I continued to go straight, pretending
that I wasn't going to turn.
They continued also. When it was no longer possible for them to take a left, I did a quick turn
and sped down the street. I heard both of the cars speed off. I don't think I had ever
biked that fast in my life. I flung open the front gate, and as it closed behind me and my bike, I heard cars speeding.
They were approaching my street from the left.
I panicked and ducked down, peering through the gap of my fence.
I had a sinking feeling I knew which cars would come past.
Sure enough, the black four-wheel drive and that other black car, sped past.
So to whoever was driving those cars late at night and whatever it was you wanted with
me, let's never meet again. Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal
government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualized
coaching services, to programs that home, your leadership skills,
and business acumen.
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Online in-person, individually, or groups.
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That's managementconcepts.com.
Years ago, I met my future roommate, Alex, when we were in college going to school for hotel and restaurant management.
We got along amazingly and were friends for years before actually moving in together.
We would always hang out after work, both of us being chefs by trade,
and we would have some drinks, cook some food,
and even created a club with other friends who wanted to get together and cook.
We were such great roommates that when Alex decided to buy a three-story townhome he asked if I
wanted to move there from our small inner-city apartment. I graciously accepted knowing that we were both climbing the ladder in our fields,
which meant better work opportunities, and we could afford a nicer place to live with more space.
We moved into this gigantic three-story townhome, gained a third roommate, and all was right in the world. That is until I met the love of my life. My now
fiancé came into the picture and it had Alex wanting to have someone around as well.
What we didn't know was he was going to bring in Hannah. Hannah was an ex-addict that was
visibly your typical former user with a few teeth missing, malnourished
looking, and just had this way about her that made you want to lock your doors, so she
didn't pawn your stuff.
My roommate was known for smoking pot here and there, but he was never into anything else.
There were nights that she would be wandering around the house, clearly on
something more than a drink or two. Six years ago, when things with my future wife began really
progressing, I didn't hesitate to jump on the opportunity, spend all of my time with her,
and move into yet another even tinier duplex with my cat and her dog. It might have been a tiny space to live,
but there was a whole lot of love. Plus, I knew that all my stuff was safe with Hannah
not being around. Over the years, Alex and Hannah were on and off again. It always appeared
to correlate with how his career was going. Misurable at work, she showed back up.
Got a promotion, Hannah was nowhere to be seen.
Eventually Alex moved on from the hotel industry and got a well-paying, higher-end job and
HR and things were looking up.
Custom suits, house to himself, and even a fancy new Mercedes.
We were all so proud of him, and we would hang out whenever we could.
I'm not going to lie, I'm a workaholic and basically had very seldom hangouts with my
friends.
I wasn't trying to distance myself, but being the executive chef of a restaurant takes
a lot out of you and at the end of the day, you just want to be home with your future wife.
At this point, Alex had gotten a new girlfriend and things seemed to be going amazingly.
So about eight months ago, I get this frenzied phone call from Alex around midnight.
I had been hanging out at our new home with my fiance enjoying the space.
At first I thought that he was just a little drunk, since I too had had a few at that point
in the evening, but his tone was very odd. He said that Hannah was breaking into our old
house with some random guy and told me that I needed to bring a gun.
I told him to call the cops, but he insisted that I bring my gun and to hurry.
I don't live too far away, but this is not a situation I would ever put myself into.
I once again urge him, call the cops, hang up, and chalk it up to him being drunk.
So two months later, I get a call from Alex asking if I could help him out.
My immediate answer is, of course, you're my friend and that's what friends do.
He had purchased an ottoman at a resell store pretty close to my house and he couldn't
fit it into his Mercedes.
Me having a truck I always get sucked in by my friends to helping them move, pick
things up, or in general, toad everyone around.
It was on my way home so I agreed to meet him over there and pick it up. Alex was in good
spirits, a little up tempo to what I'm used to saying, but his appearance was off. He seemed skinny, really skinny. And his skin
had all of these small pock marks on his arms that he claimed was from working with insulation.
This was odd because he didn't work in construction, and I hardly ever knew him to do anything DIY.
That was my department back in the day.
I even have a full garage workshop.
We unload the piece of furniture
and he asked me if I could help him out with something else.
I, of course, being the friend that I always have been,
agree and start heading up the stairs.
As I round the stairs to the second story, who
do I see but Hannah in the kitchen doing dishes? I say hello cordially with absolutely no
acknowledgement of my presence. Shake it off and head up to the third floor where he
asks me to help him re-hang his 150lb Master bathroom mirror, which somehow was now lying
on his bedroom floor.
This is yet again kind of weird, but I agree.
I remove my sunglasses from my collar of my shirt, trying not to get them damaged.
We get the mirror hung.
I say my goodbyes, citing that I have several more things to do
on the way home. And that was it.
Yet I drove away questioning why in the hell was the girl he called me frantically about
two months before in his house, like nothing had ever happened. He asked me to bring a
gun. He texted me while I was on the road that I had left my sunglasses at his
house and asked if I wanted to grab them later. I agreed.
Once home, I spoke with my fiance about it and we both kind of let it fall out of our
minds, figuring Alex was back to the on-again off-again routine.
A few weeks go by and I'm in the middle of opening my first bar that I'm co-owner of,
so things are hectic, to say the least.
I have completely forgotten about my sunglasses at this point, and I'm in full workaholic
mode of the highest caliber.
He sends me a reminder text or two, and I basically mention I remember, but I'm very busy at the moment
if he could hold on to them for me, that would be great. To be honest, with Hannah there,
I figured they were probably already gone to the pawn shop.
Once again, time passes and I forget about the glasses. Now this brings us to one month
ago, when I'm getting a call from him at 9 a.m.
I'm excited as always to answer his call and greet Alex as I always do.
Hey man, what's up? The response to this day absolutely curls my blood.
Hey brother, I'm going to fucking kill you. Where the fuck are you?
I'm going to fucking kill you. Where the fuck are you?"
I take a step back and look once again at the collar ensuring that this is Alex.
He starts ranting and raving in the most malicious voice I had ever heard, saying that he was
going to fucking kill me over and over again. I was dumbfounded, considering that I hadn't talked to him in
months and have been his friend for 14 years. I ask him what he's talking about and tell
him I'm at work. He screams, fuck it, and hangs up the phone. Being that this is the first time either of us has ever had any raised tone with each
other. I tried calling him back. I tried again to know a veil. I was just trying to get
to the bottom of this all while physically shaking from this interaction. My employees
were looking at me, asking what was wrong. No words could come
from my mouth, though. I tried one last time to call him back, trying to figure out what this
was all about, because I have never done anything to him to warrant such aggression.
And then I text him, asking what he meant, since I haven't talked to him in a few months,
asking if he's okay offering my help if he needs anything.
I don't hear back at all from Alex, and I'm left feeling very uneasy.
Luckily, he doesn't know where mine and my fiancee's new house is, but I call to warn her not to
communicate with him or engage just in case he is serious about these claims.
We both rightfully are frightened about the situation and what nothing to do with it.
A few days go by and he sends me another weird text message telling me to quit with the sexual assault,
saying that he knows I shot at him with the pistol years ago.
saying that he knows I shot at him with the pistol years ago. I've only owned a pistol for the last year, and none of this is making sense.
Once again, I ask him if he's okay and offer any help that he needs,
which is met by more death threats.
I in no way have ever done anything to ever hurt a soul, let alone commit such atrocious acts.
I reach out to my best friend to find out that he's also receiving very weird and paranoid
messages from Alex, asking him to stop, quote, placing algorithms in the world to stop his happiness.
He too is just one of our college friends.
If he knew how to do that, he would be making bank working for Google or some other large
Silicon Valley company.
His former employer reached out to us as well, whom were very close, saying that he was
talking nonsense over the phone and begging for money.
Red flags are flying everywhere, and we have no idea what is going on with him.
Is he on drugs? Is this some kind of mental break?
No one wants to assume anything, but I am the one that's receiving the brunt of it all
with death threats and false accusations of impossible acts.
I stress about it as much as I allow myself,
but eventually the messages stop and I began to regain a level of regularity.
Now that leads to this morning. It had been almost a month since Alex had reached out to me,
and I figured he had leveled off his high and was finding help, hopefully.
Wrong.
7.22 in the morning I get a text, threatening to kill me, calling me a murderer, a rapist,
and hoping that I choke on the food I tried to eat today.
He literally calls me the worst human when I've done nothing in this world, but help
and be kind to him throughout all of the years.
I finally stopped the coddling and confront him, saying whatever drugs he's on are affecting
him, to the point that if he ever contacts me again in this manner, I'll cut him out
of my life forever.
I know I put up with a lot at this point, but I really did hope that I could save
him. I got on the phone with the local police and called a welfare check on him because
he definitely is not in the right mind. He instantly blows up at me threatening to report me
for shooting him, yet he's never been shot in his life. That was the last straw. I blocked Alex, after telling him he needs to
get help, and he's losing one of the last people who care about him in this world.
I didn't sign up for this. No one did. The cops never made the return call about the welfare check
either. Drugs are most likely involved, but the scary part was that he stated that he was sober,
which makes it even more terrifying.
Was he capable of fabricating all of this in his mind?
I spoke with all of our mutual friends and no one is brave enough to approach my old
house for fear that he's capable of murder.
I only live about seven minutes away from that house. I've recently installed
four security cameras because of this harassment, and I pray to goodness he never finds me or
my loved ones. Meth can destroy a brain from the get-go, and this is my opinion of what
has happened. One thing is for sure, the day he met Hannah and brought her into our lives,
his life has been on a downward spiral. To Alex, my strong out former roommate,
who I hope gets the help he needs in Hannah, you piece of shit. Let's never meet again. Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for
federal government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualize coaching services, to programs at home, your leadership skills and business
acumen.
Management concepts optimizes your professional development, online in-person, individually
or groups.
It's training that's measurably better.
Learn more at managementconcepts.com.
That's managementconcepts.com. I'm a female in my early 30s that works at a storage facility.
I am the on-site manager, which means I get a two-bedroom apartment rent-free.
It's great because I don't pay rent or utilities, but the downside is that all my customers
know exactly where I live.
I'm married with two kids and my husband is a pretty big guy. So when he's home, I feel safe, but when he's not,
which would be obvious to anyone because our parking spots are visible to everyone,
I can get kind of nervous.
I work solo almost every day that I work.
I often take people up into the building to tour a unit when there is no one else on the
property.
I try to always keep people in front of me or in my line of sight because these are still
strangers.
I know 99.99% of people are perfectly safe, but you never know. One day I toured a man in his late 40s.
I was trying to ask the normal questions
to see what he would be storing
and figured out the size of the unit that he would need.
He wouldn't talk much,
but he did say that he needed a large unit.
I said, okay, and we found one that worked
and I rented it to him.
I was at the end of the business day, and I already went into overtime renting to him.
I made him aware of this, but after the rental, he wouldn't leave.
The man never seemed threatening, just weird, and he made me uncomfortable.
He just sat in my office.
I started turning things off and hoped that he would get the hint. He didn't. My husband
and kids were already home inside the apartment. I had already asked him a couple of times
if there was anything else that I could help him with and he said no, but he just sat
there.
Finally, I had to walk to the door so I said, okay, have a good night. He finally
got up. Oh, okay." He said, as he left. I didn't want him knowing that I lived there,
but he stayed in the parking lot, and he saw me walk to my front door. Fast forward a few
days when he was moving his stuff in, he apparently was a truck driver
because he parked his truck across the street and would use a cart to bring his items over.
Sometimes my husband drives Uber on weekend nights to earn some extra money.
That weekend he was out.
My kids were sleeping when I heard a car sound like it hit its brakes.
Then I heard crying sounds, but it sounded somewhat like an animal.
I thought maybe somebody hit a dog.
I walked outside, but I didn't see an accident or a dog.
But his truck was still just sitting there across the street.
This was already very late past the access hours to storage.
When I went back to watch the cameras, he had been there all night,
pulled up right after my husband had left, and never went to the storage.
He just stayed in his truck. Any time that he comes to the property,
he will come into the office, but he doesn't
need anything.
I'll try to be nice and ask if he needs help, but he just says no, then stands there,
uncomfortably long, until finally he leaves.
A couple of times, I've actually had another employee here with me, and I pretend to be
busy or on the phone when he comes in.
The other employee will try to help,
but he completely ignores them like they aren't even there,
and he tries to get my attention.
Even when he thinks I'm on the phone,
I will ask if he needs anything
and I'll gesture towards the other person,
and they say, can I help you?
He just says, oh no, I'm fine. Then proceeds to stand around, before finally leaving. Even if he comes
in his regular car and not the semi-truck, he'll park in the front parking lot so that
he can walk through the office. The other day he came here and parked in the parking lot, I quickly got up and locked
the doors and went to walk the property.
His unit is on the third floor, so I was walking around the second floor.
I was cleaning a unit with my headphones on, and out of the corner of my eye, I see something
moving. I look up and it's him.
He says, I found you.
I asked if he needed anything and he said, no.
He just stood around like he did in the office.
I wasn't about to bring up why he's on the second floor.
I just finished quickly and said, okay, bye.
Normally, my husband is home with the kids
a few minutes before I'm off of work,
but sometimes they go to the store
and get stuck in traffic,
so I'm in the house before their home.
This was one of those days.
The man was here and his car was parked in the parking lot.
He had already done his weird uncomfortable
office stand-around thing, then went up to his unit. There are two doors in my office, one leading to
the facility and one leading outwards to the parking lot in my house. I had already locked the inner door,
and was outside the office locking the front door when
someone was trying to get into the office from the inner door.
I looked to see him.
I leaned over to where the gate is and say, we're closed.
He looked disappointed.
I wasn't about to offer any help because fuck it.
I'm off the clock.
I start to turn around and walk home. He says,
your family isn't home yet. While still walking and semi-turning around, I say, they're just
around the corner. Oh, okay, he said. Meanwhile, he was walking out of the gate towards the parking lot.
Meanwhile, he was walking out of the gate towards the parking lot. I get inside and start doing the dishes.
About 10 minutes go by and I happen to peek outside and he's still there sitting in his
car.
That's when I realized I had forgotten my phone in the office.
We don't have a house phone, so if my husband tries to contact me, or anyone tries to contact
me, I would have no way of knowing. I decide to wait for a few more minutes to see if he will either go back to his storage
unit or leave, but no, he's still there.
So I begrudgingly go out of the house and towards the office.
As I'm walking, he gets out of his car and tries to follow me.
I'm trying to think of what my best option is.
At first, I think I should pretend to be going to my storage unit, but then he may follow me.
It's an empty building.
At least the office faces the street and I'm semi-visible.
So I head to the office and he's right behind me.
He says,
Hi, I say, Hi, I forgot something. I'm going right back home after.
He says, your husband's still not home. He said it like a question, but he obviously knew the answer.
He's been sitting in the parking lot the entire time.
I said he's almost here.
I was trying to close the door behind me, but he stayed right on me.
I said, I'm sorry, I can't let you in.
We're closed, I'm just grabbing something.
He said, oh, okay.
And just stood in the doorway.
I went around my desk and grabbed my phone. I saw my husband
had been trying to call me, so I hit call back as I'm walking out. I'm walking towards the door,
but he doesn't move. I have to say excuse me and gesture for him to back up before he finally does.
My husband doesn't answer and I lock up, but he's still standing there, staring. I
say have a good night and start walking back to my apartment. He starts to say something,
but then just says, oh, okay. He stays in the parking lot until my husband pulled in, then immediately leaves.
Thank God we actually bought a house out of state, and I never have to deal with that guy again.
I did have a nightmare that he showed up at my back porch, but to this random weirdo, again. take certification to individualize coaching services to programs at home, your leadership
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This story takes place around 2015 when I was about 11 years old.
My mom, brother and I were just moving into our new house in a janky neighborhood in Indiana.
Not a safe place by any means, but it was affordable.
Our house shared a driveway with our next door neighbor who I'll call Dawn.
Our house was built sideways, so what was meant to be the front of our house actually faced Don's house.
My bedroom's only window was along that wall, as well as our front door and the window to my mother's room.
Right away we knew Don was a creep. He dead stared at me and my mom the whole day while we were
unloading our U-Haul, and he constantly had boys over at his house for
God knows what. He was a 60-something-year-old man who hired 13 to 21-year-old boys to do work for him,
always in the middle of the night. He stored a bunch of junk in our shared driveway, and it seemed
sometimes he liked to hire these boys to make as much noise at night as
possible. Since my mother and I slept along that wall, it was almost impossible to fall asleep
if you weren't already asleep by 10pm. I remember being constantly unsettled by the flashlights
being outside my window, and all of the noise and the boys and men talking.
My head blinds on the windows, but they didn't quite close all the way, and I insisted on having
these cute, sheer butterfly curtains on the windows.
I didn't know any better.
My mom and I tried to ignore it, but over time it became clear that they were aware there
was a younger girl with the sheer curtain. They started waiting for us to fall
asleep, then they would shine their lights through my blinds.
My mom had woken up a couple of times because of the noise, peaked out her window, and
caught them watching me. But she didn't want to scare me.
Multiple times she would get up in the middle of the night to threaten these guys and to leaving me alone. And not only did Don not do a thing about it, he encouraged
it, often participating himself. My mother called the police a few times on them. They said
that they would look into it but they never actually did, no matter how bad it seemed
to get.
These guys were aware that my mother had been calling the police because she did it in
front of them to try and scare them into stopping.
And when they realized they'd never come, they got cocky.
They got louder and more obvious because they knew no one was going to do anything.
After about six months, it
would start waking me up at night. Being 11 years old, waking up to flashlights in your
window, and a group of men staring at you, is obviously unsettling.
I started fully dressing myself to sleep instead of wearing my night gown, and I would hide
my head under my blanket when I heard people talking outside.
If the night was bad enough, my mom had me sleep in her room, just so they couldn't break
in and take me if they decided to go that far.
I started carrying her-
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When I was around any boy that I saw in the neighborhood
Not knowing who was on Don's payroll and watching me sleep at night
The insomnia and fear
Integrated itself into my life and my school performance plummeted.
I never wanted to go to bed, or especially to fall asleep.
Whether I was in my mom's room or not, I was absolutely terrified.
I had already been in therapy for other issues with anxiety,
but my appointments got increased to weekly sessions because they were
worried about me. It all came to a head after about 10 months in that house. One night I was in my bed
for once actually sleeping, and I woke up to the sound of my mother in my bedroom on the phone
with the police, relaying things that these men, outside, were
saying that they would do to me.
They were finally threatening to break in, and laughing it up about all of the things that
they'd force my 11-year-old self into when they got their hands on me.
Police once again said that there was nothing that they could do unless they took action, as there wasn't
a clear property line because of the conjoined driveway.
My mom flipped and hung up the phone.
I went to her bedroom.
The men outside were laughing, I guess, thinking that she gave up.
I was pretending to still be asleep to afraid to do anything.
The next thing I hear is my mom bursting open our front door and screaming at the guys outside
the window threatening to shoot if they didn't get off the property.
My mother pulled a shotgun from the back of her closet.
She went outside and pointed it directly at them.
They had no idea that it wasn't loaded, so they freaked
out and ran away. Apparently Dawn was freaked as well. He had called the police on her,
saying she was threatening him with the gun on his property. Of course, this time the police
actually showed up and knocked on our door. I had gotten out of bed by now and was instructed to stay
in my room. My mom answered the door, having already put the gun away. They questioned
her about the shotgun and the incident that had just occurred. She explained everything
that had happened, and that she had been asking the police for help many times, but she had never stepped out of that kitchen door.
So she was on her property. She told them all about what Dawn and the other guys had been doing,
and after confirming that she had in fact been calling for help for months, and even earlier that night,
the police let her go back inside. I peaked through the blinds after the front door was closed
and I saw a police talking to Dawn, but no arrest was ever made regarding that incident.
But it also didn't happen again that we know of. We moved out a few months later, as
soon as we found a place to go to. And as we were moving out, we found out Dawn had been arrested on meth charges.
Let's just hope for the sake of whoever removes into that house next.
He stays locked up for a long, long time.
Today, I still carry that paranoia.
I've been diagnosed with PTSD from that incident and other terrible things that I've been through.
I still struggle with insomnia, and now sleep paralysis and horrible nightmares.
I have an intense fear of being watched.
I can't close my eyes unless all the doors and windows are locked, blinds closed, and there's
a thick curtain
closed over every window.
I leave all doors even inside the house closed when I go to sleep just in case, and I refuse
to sleep in a room without a lock.
And even with all of these precautions, it's hard to shake the feeling that I'm being
watched while I sleep.
Sometimes I jerk awake, worried that someone could be watching me.
It's an intense fear of sleep that I'll carry for the rest of my life.
To the man who hired people to watch me sleep, please, for the love of God, let's not meet. Meet.
Thanks for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Me to True Horror Podcast and
Don't Forget That Show in Seattle on August 25 has changed from the Neptune to the triple
door.
I'll take it, it will be honored all you have to do is show up. and Seattle on August 25th has changed from the Neptune to the triple door. All tickets
will be honored, all you have to do is show up. And I forgot to add, if you're coming to
the Portland show, nothing has changed. We'll still be at Polaris Hall. I'm really excited
to see you all there on the 26th. I have a full episode worth of brand new stories never heard
before to share with you all live. I'm excited to see you there. Again, go to Let's Not Meet
Podcast, forward slash tour of all of the link in the show notes to get your tickets today.
I'll see you all there. This week you have heard.
A Home and Truder came into my room one night by Art Sesquatch, followed from the underpass
by NASA 24-7. My former roommate by Tortured Chef Creeper Story by Lady Coconut
And Finally, The Man Who Hired People To Watch Me Sleep My
Dea All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the
permission of their respective authors.
Let's not meet a true horror podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message
boards online.
As always, if you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com.
If you want to support the TV pilot production, I believe we have a few days left on our
fundraiser at Indiegogo.
Just go to Let's Not Meet TV dot com to donate at any of the available tiers for any of
those awesome rewards just for helping us out.
I'm really excited to get to work filming this pilot for the TV show.
Also, if you want to support this podcast and any other way, you can just go to patreon.com.
Forward slash let's not need podcasts to sign up for your extended ad-free version of this week's episode.
Don't forget if you're a patron, stick around after the music for all of your bonus content.
And last but not least, don't forget to check out the new episodes this week of my other shows,
Odd Trails, and the Old Time Radiocast at crypticcountypodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts.
I'll see you all next week for a brand new episode. Stay safe. for some back For some backstory, that was a 19-year-old girl.
And my best friend who will come.
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That's why at Crogr, we invest in local farmers to bring you the freshest seasonal picks.
So no matter how you shop, your local produce always tastes 100% fresh, or you get a 100% refund.
Guaranteed.
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