April 28, 2025 • 21 mins
n tonight's video I read true scary stories about stalking, intruding and just plain ole creepy neighbors. You can also listen in podcast form "Scary Stories from Bad Vibes" Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/6WCjzGChSiOtskaZjonvqz Apple Podcast: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/scary-stories-from-bad-vibes/id1614005565 iHeartRadio: https://www.iheart.com/podcast/53-bad-vibes-nightmares-94022380/ Deezer: https://www.deezer.com/show/3497187 Podcast Addict: https://podcastaddict.com/podcast/3868720 Podchaser: https://www.podchaser.com/podcasts/bad-vibes-nightmares-4264713 JiloSaavn: https://www.jiosaavn.com/shows/Scary-Stories-from-Bad-Vibes/1/A7Unzn6te1Y_ Become a CHANNEL MEMBER for early access for as little as 99 cents a month: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7N-0n6MRuhtRVfCpj_oArQ/join Perhaps buy some MERCH: https://teespring.com/stores/bad-vibes-storytelling Follow me on Social Media: TWITTER: https://twitter.com/BadVibesYOUTUBE INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/badvibesstorytelling/ Send your TRUE story in: badvibes760@gmail.com Music by: "Long Note 4" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ Timestamps: Story 1: (00:00) Story 2: (02:52) Story 3: (04:16) Story 4: (07:35) Story 5: (09:33) Story 6: (11:15) Story 7: (14:55)
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:06):
It's been almost ten years, but I still can't shake
off what my old neighbors said. Out of everything I experienced,
his words are something that's etched in my memory, and
I don't think they'll ever leave. I was around eleven
or twelve at the time, living in a small apartment
with my mom. Right across the hall lived a man
(00:28):
who gave off an immediate sense of unease. There was
something off about him, something you couldn't quite put your
finger on. It totally opened his mouth. Honestly, I can
fill pages with the strange and suddenly things he said
and did during the two years he lived there, But
one moment still sticks out more than any other. One day,
(00:50):
my mom decided to try to smooth things over with him.
He had always seemed to hold a little grudge against us,
passive aggressive glares, muttering comments under his breath, so she
figured maybe it was a misunderstanding. She went out to
have a calm, civil conversation, just trying to find some
kind of common ground. Whatever she expected from the talk,
(01:13):
it clearly didn't go well. I remember the sound of
the door slamming shut. She stormed in, immediately locking it
behind her, face pale with her hands trembling. Asked her
what happened, and her voice was shaking when she finally
told me, she said, he looked dead in my eye
and said, you know, if I were you, i'd keep
(01:36):
your daughter away from guys like me. That was it,
one sentence, unprompted, calm, measured, and deeply disturbing. Even now,
I don't know exactly what he meant, but my mind
filled them. The blinks fast, and none of the possibilities
were good. Whether it was a threat, a confession, or
(01:56):
just some twisted attempt at intimidation, it hurt. From that
moment on, I couldn't be alone in our apartment without
constantly looking over my shoulders. I was home by myself often,
my mom worked full time and I did online school,
so the fear never really left me. I don't usually
(02:18):
say this kind of thing. In fact, I feel guilty
even thinking it, But the truth, I was relieved when
I found out he died. He never got a chance
to follow through on whatever that comment meant. Before you ask,
my mom didn't tell me what he said to scare me.
She told me because she wanted me to stay away
from him, to always keep the doors locked and never
(02:41):
ever let my guard down. She didn't need to say
it twice. It all began early December. At five forty
five am, I was jolted awake by a loud knock
on my door. Or standing there was a man I've
(03:02):
never spoken to before, my downstairs neighbor. He accused me
of spreading rumors throughout the entire complex, claiming I was
calling him a pedophile. I was stunned. I never interacted
with him before, let alone spoke ill of him. A
few weeks later, the situation escalated. Around midnight, he knocked
(03:26):
out my next door neighbor's door, stating he was waiting
for me. Thankfully, my neighbor told him to leave and
not come back. Then. Just last night, something deeply unsettling occurred.
Asked her friend to drop off a cable, which he
left by my door around six pm. I went to
bed early, but around ten forty five pm, I was
(03:49):
awakened by a knock at my door. I called out
who is it? Three times, but received no response. When
I opened the door, I found it bag attaining a
satin night dress, a satin nightgown, chocolates, and a phone case.
I'm now living in fear. I'm sure what he might
do next. I've lived alone for the last three years
(04:19):
in a small apartment complex, the kind where the walls
are thin and you can hear your neighbors arguing, laughing,
cooking everything. It's not fancy, but for the most part,
it's quiet, and I like that, or at least I
used to. Last fall, a new person moved into the
unit directly across her mind. Older guy, maybe mid fifties,
(04:42):
always wear the same faded navyhoodie and loose jeans. I
saw him dragging a single suitcase in a moving day.
No movers, no furniture delivery, no decorations ever went up,
just him. At first, I barely noticed him. I'm not
very social, and we never talked beyond the occasional knot
in the hallways. But things started to feel off. He
(05:07):
didn't work, at least not that I could tell. His
lights were always on at all hours. Sometimes I'd leave
for work at six thirty am and he'd be standing
outside his door, smoking and just staring. Not at anything specific,
just staring. One night, around two am, I heard a
(05:27):
knock on my door, not loud, more like a tapping.
I froze. I live alone, and no one should be
knocking out that hour. I didn't move, didn't make a sound. Eventually,
whoever it was went away. I checked the people a
few minutes later and saw nothing. I tried to convince
(05:48):
myself it was a drunk neighbor or maybe even a dream.
But it kept happening, once a week, sometimes more, always
late at night, always that same soft knock. Every time
I looked at the people afterwards, the hallway was empty.
But one time I opened my door the next morning
(06:08):
and found a single penny placed right in the center
of my welcome matt. It gave me a sick feeling
I couldn't explain. Then one day I came home from
work and my door was unlocked. Nothing was missing, nothing
looked touched, but I always double checked the locks. Always.
(06:29):
The worst part I found a candy wrapper on my
kitchen counter, one I don't eat. It was just there,
like someone stood in my apartment for a few minutes
and left. That night, I finally called the landlord. I
asked him about the guy across the hall, if he
had any complaints, or if any other tenants had mentioned anything.
(06:49):
The landlord was quiet for a second, then said He's
not supposed to be there anymore. The unit was cleared
out last week. He never paid his deposit. When I
came to check the it was empty. I didn't sleep
that night. I ended up staying with a friend for
a week while I changed the locks, added cameras, and
(07:10):
begged the management to install a better security system. I
never saw him again, no forty address, no name, no
trace he ever lived there. But to this day, I
still wake up some nights thinking I hear a soft,
slow knock, and I always check my mat the next
day for a penny. This happened nearly a decade ago,
(07:38):
but the memory still lingers. I was around ten or eleven,
living in an apartment complex with my grandma. One day,
while walking the dog near a building, I heard a
voice behind me, nice ass. I turned to see two
teenage boys, probably around seventeen. One of them repeated the
comment louder this time. I was just a kid, clearly
(08:01):
not even the teenager yet. I ignored them and quickly
went back inside, hoping that would be the end of it.
But it wasn't. A few weeks later, I go outside
with my dog when one of the boys, the one
that had made the comment approached me. He started with
small talk, then asked how old I was. I told
(08:23):
him that I was ten or eleven. He said he
was seventeen. Then he asked which apartment I lived in.
I didn't answer. He invited me to his apartment to
play video games. I declined, saying I wasn't allowed to
go into strangers houses. He insisted, saying I could bring
my dog with me and that we would have fun.
(08:45):
Then he tried to grab my arm. I pulled away
and told him I needed to ask my grandma. He said, okay,
I'll be waiting for you at the swings. I went
inside and didn't tell my grandma. I had no intention
she's going back out there. After that, I saw him
around a few times, but always avoided him. Eventually, when
(09:07):
I turned thirteen, the encounter stopped. Looking back, I realized
how inappropriate and unsettling his behavior was. At the time,
I didn't fully grasp it, but now I understand the
danger I was in. So to that creepy seventeen year old,
let's not meet again. There's a lot of backstory about
(09:35):
how these neighbors tortured us, but I'm only going to
talk about the last terrifying encounter. I was seven and
my bed was facing my windows, which is important. I
woke up to my dog, Wrinkles, going crazy. She slept
in my room. But nothing like this had ever happened.
(09:56):
I was groggy, but I could hear knocking and movement
around my window. Suddenly I saw him as he opened
my window and moved the screen. I couldn't move. I
was terrified. I could still only see his hands and silhouette.
Then he said something so fucked up. What he said
(10:16):
was either I'm gonna fuck you or I'm gonna fuck
you up. He was close to getting in when I
ran into my parents' room and was shaking so hard
and crying. My parents couldn't understand me initially. They did
a second later, and my dad ran outside and saw
one of our deck chairs outside my window. There was
(10:37):
also a shoeprint. They called the police and already knew
this family and had responded to calls about them. They
never found him, but my parents thought he was home
and told the police, but his evil father said that
he hadn't seen him. Nothing else happened except for me
being terrified to sleep in my bed. This person and
(11:00):
made me feel unsafe in my home. I don't know
what his plan was. I'm terrified to think that he
could have hurt me or worse. I live in an
apartment complex, and up until recently, the unit above me
(11:20):
belonged to an older woman. When she moved out, a quiet,
humble family took her place, elderly couple, the twenty five
year old daughter and fifteen year old son. At first,
everything seemed completely normal. I'm not exactly social with the
building's residents, but I'd give a polite nod or a
quick hello whenever we crossed paths. The boy always struck
(11:45):
me as unusually shy. Every time I greeted him, it
was like I startled him. He'd freeze up or I'm
almost something outder his breath clearly uncomfortable. The first few
months went by without incident. Then nowhere the screaming started.
It wasn't normal teenage frustration. This wasn't shouting at a
(12:07):
video game or bickering with family. It was guttural, repetitive,
almost primal. He let out long, drawn out screams, sometimes
just so deep ah. Other times it was a panicked no,
followed by swearing. Since their apartment was directly above mine.
(12:28):
The noise was constant and inescapable. At the time, my
grandmother was very ill, and this stress was always eating
away at me. One day I snapped. I yelled back
up to the ceiling, telling him to shut up. To
my surprise, he did. They yelling stopped for a while,
(12:49):
or at least it became less frequent. When my grandmother
passed away, I found myself caring even less. I wore
headphones most days anyway, for studying, gaming, whatever. The occasional
outbursts didn't bother me much anymore, But recently the screaming returned, louder,
(13:09):
more frequent. Still I brushed it off. He seemed like
a shy, awkward teenager, probably just finding in frustration over
a game or something trivial. Every time I saw him
in the hallway, he looked completely normal, quiet, polite, almost harmless.
That's when something happened that changed how I sold the
(13:30):
whole situation. Yesterday, my mom was expecting a package and
the delivery driver accidentally buzzed their apartment instead of ours.
My mom went downstairs to meet him, but the intercom
kept ringing. Eventually, the boy answered, but instead of speaking,
he started moaning on the intercom. Not a joke, not
(13:52):
a prank. It was disturbing mix of groaning, yelling, and
what sounded like he was growling in pain. My mom
was visibly shaken, and the delivery guy looked just as disturbed.
It didn't feel like a joke. It fell off wrong.
I don't know what to think. Maybe he has a condition,
(14:14):
schizophrenia or something similar. It might explain the episodes. But
then I hear from the neighbors that he has a girlfriend, friends,
and even a part time job. He goes out, he smiles,
he functions like any other teenager, and yet there's this
side of him. I'm not scared for myself. I'm head
(14:36):
enough to college in a month, but I can't stop
wondering should I be worried for my family? Has anyone
ever dealt with something like this before? Because the more
I think about it, the more it creeps under my skin.
This happened about three years ago, when I was twenty
(14:58):
four and living in a small, one room apartment in
the same city where I graduated. My uncle, who lived
in the same building, helped me find a place. It
was affordable, and I liked being close to someone. I trusted.
He was kind of a big deal in the building,
friendly with everyone in the ninety unit complex, always chatting
(15:19):
in the halls or helping someone carry groceries. It didn't
take long for people to start recognizing me as his niece.
About seven months after I moved in, I got a
random Facebook request. I didn't recognize a guy, but we
had my uncle in common, so I figured he was
a neighbor or something. He looked at me around my age.
(15:43):
Harmless enough, right, I accepted. At first, I thought nothing
of it, but he started messaging me saying that he
was my neighbor and knew my uncle. I replied politely,
though I wasn't looking to spark any kind of connection. Still,
I felt like ignoring him outright would be rude, especially
(16:04):
if he was friendly with my uncle. That's when I
started to piece it together. My uncle had always been
weirdly fixated on my love life, constantly asking me if
I had a boyfriend or if I was still single. Now,
this random guy about my age who just happened to
live in the building was suddenly very eager to talk
(16:24):
to me. Yeah, I'm pretty sure my uncle had a
hand in the setup. I wasn't interested, but I kept
it civil as long as he didn't cross any lines.
I figured I could manage being cordial. Then one day
my uncle asked for help with his Facebook account, totally normal.
(16:45):
He wasn't tech savvy, and I helped him before I
logged in for him, and right away a message popped up.
It was from that guy. The message seemed like part
of a longer conversation, but it was the only one there.
All the rest had been deleted, something about needed help,
(17:06):
followed by a laughing emoji. It fell off like they
had been talking about me. I was irritated. I started
replying to the guy less and less, hoping he'd be
less interested. I had never flirted or encouraged anything. I
was just trying not to be rude. Eventually the messages
(17:27):
died down. I assumed it had ended. Then one evening,
after work, I opened my door to head out for groceries.
A pack of chocolates fell from the doorknob. No note,
no context, just chocolate. I was confused, but didn't think
too much of it. Maybe it was a mistake that
(17:50):
brought them inside and left them on the counter. A
few days later, another gift, this time a small potted
flower with a note glued to thee I saw you
and I like you with a smiley face. That was
the moment it turned from weird to terrifying. I was
(18:11):
a woman in her twenties, living alone, and now someone
was leaving anonymous gifts, someone who said they had saw me.
I started spiraling who had access to my door, who
had been watching me? Then, lay clockwork, that same guy
messaged me again. It all clicked. It had to be him,
(18:34):
but I didn't want to confront him directly. He was big,
easily over six feet tall, broad, muscular, and always seen
walking a massive dog. And he knew exactly where I lived.
So I waited, hoping he would give himself away. Days past,
I bought pepper spray. I started listening for footsteps in
(18:55):
the hallway. Every creek near my door made my heart raise.
But nothing, No more gifts, no messages. I let myself
breathe a little until I checked my mailbox. Small folded notes,
a dozen of them, each one with poems, short four
(19:17):
line verses, dripping with cheesy romance, notes like I hope
you liked the chocolate and You're charming. Some of them
were dated one for each day of the month. That
meant they had been delivered consistently. The same day the
chocolates appeared, there was a note to go with it.
(19:38):
I just hadn't checked the mailbox in time. That was it.
I texted him and asked directly if he was behind it.
He denied everything. He played the victim, claiming he just
liked my style and thought I was interesting. Said I
was overreacting, that he would never do something like that.
Even when I put it out the time, I mean,
(20:00):
he brushed it off. And here's the worst part. I
started to doubt myself. Maybe I was being mean, maybe
it wasn't really him. But after I sent that message,
everything stopped instantly. No more gifts, no more poems, no
more texts, nothing. I don't have concrete proof that it
(20:23):
was him, but let's be honest the time, he couldn't
be clearer. The second I called him out, the whole
charade ended. I still live in that building. He does too.
When we've passed each other in the hallway, he just
gives me a tight smile and says, HI, that's it.
(20:44):
I haven't had a problem since. Oh and my uncle
moved out not long after that. So I guess you
could call that a happy ending.
It's been almost ten years, but I still can't shake
off what my old neighbors said. Out of everything I experienced,
his words are something that's etched in my memory, and
I don't think they'll ever leave. I was around eleven
or twelve at the time, living in a small apartment
with my mom. Right across the hall lived a man
(00:28):
who gave off an immediate sense of unease. There was
something off about him, something you couldn't quite put your
finger on. It totally opened his mouth. Honestly, I can
fill pages with the strange and suddenly things he said
and did during the two years he lived there, But
one moment still sticks out more than any other. One day,
(00:50):
my mom decided to try to smooth things over with him.
He had always seemed to hold a little grudge against us,
passive aggressive glares, muttering comments under his breath, so she
figured maybe it was a misunderstanding. She went out to
have a calm, civil conversation, just trying to find some
kind of common ground. Whatever she expected from the talk,
(01:13):
it clearly didn't go well. I remember the sound of
the door slamming shut. She stormed in, immediately locking it
behind her, face pale with her hands trembling. Asked her
what happened, and her voice was shaking when she finally
told me, she said, he looked dead in my eye
and said, you know, if I were you, i'd keep
(01:36):
your daughter away from guys like me. That was it,
one sentence, unprompted, calm, measured, and deeply disturbing. Even now,
I don't know exactly what he meant, but my mind
filled them. The blinks fast, and none of the possibilities
were good. Whether it was a threat, a confession, or
(01:56):
just some twisted attempt at intimidation, it hurt. From that
moment on, I couldn't be alone in our apartment without
constantly looking over my shoulders. I was home by myself often,
my mom worked full time and I did online school,
so the fear never really left me. I don't usually
(02:18):
say this kind of thing. In fact, I feel guilty
even thinking it, But the truth, I was relieved when
I found out he died. He never got a chance
to follow through on whatever that comment meant. Before you ask,
my mom didn't tell me what he said to scare me.
She told me because she wanted me to stay away
from him, to always keep the doors locked and never
(02:41):
ever let my guard down. She didn't need to say
it twice. It all began early December. At five forty
five am, I was jolted awake by a loud knock
on my door. Or standing there was a man I've
(03:02):
never spoken to before, my downstairs neighbor. He accused me
of spreading rumors throughout the entire complex, claiming I was
calling him a pedophile. I was stunned. I never interacted
with him before, let alone spoke ill of him. A
few weeks later, the situation escalated. Around midnight, he knocked
(03:26):
out my next door neighbor's door, stating he was waiting
for me. Thankfully, my neighbor told him to leave and
not come back. Then. Just last night, something deeply unsettling occurred.
Asked her friend to drop off a cable, which he
left by my door around six pm. I went to
bed early, but around ten forty five pm, I was
(03:49):
awakened by a knock at my door. I called out
who is it? Three times, but received no response. When
I opened the door, I found it bag attaining a
satin night dress, a satin nightgown, chocolates, and a phone case.
I'm now living in fear. I'm sure what he might
do next. I've lived alone for the last three years
(04:19):
in a small apartment complex, the kind where the walls
are thin and you can hear your neighbors arguing, laughing,
cooking everything. It's not fancy, but for the most part,
it's quiet, and I like that, or at least I
used to. Last fall, a new person moved into the
unit directly across her mind. Older guy, maybe mid fifties,
(04:42):
always wear the same faded navyhoodie and loose jeans. I
saw him dragging a single suitcase in a moving day.
No movers, no furniture delivery, no decorations ever went up,
just him. At first, I barely noticed him. I'm not
very social, and we never talked beyond the occasional knot
in the hallways. But things started to feel off. He
(05:07):
didn't work, at least not that I could tell. His
lights were always on at all hours. Sometimes I'd leave
for work at six thirty am and he'd be standing
outside his door, smoking and just staring. Not at anything specific,
just staring. One night, around two am, I heard a
(05:27):
knock on my door, not loud, more like a tapping.
I froze. I live alone, and no one should be
knocking out that hour. I didn't move, didn't make a sound. Eventually,
whoever it was went away. I checked the people a
few minutes later and saw nothing. I tried to convince
(05:48):
myself it was a drunk neighbor or maybe even a dream.
But it kept happening, once a week, sometimes more, always
late at night, always that same soft knock. Every time
I looked at the people afterwards, the hallway was empty.
But one time I opened my door the next morning
(06:08):
and found a single penny placed right in the center
of my welcome matt. It gave me a sick feeling
I couldn't explain. Then one day I came home from
work and my door was unlocked. Nothing was missing, nothing
looked touched, but I always double checked the locks. Always.
(06:29):
The worst part I found a candy wrapper on my
kitchen counter, one I don't eat. It was just there,
like someone stood in my apartment for a few minutes
and left. That night, I finally called the landlord. I
asked him about the guy across the hall, if he
had any complaints, or if any other tenants had mentioned anything.
(06:49):
The landlord was quiet for a second, then said He's
not supposed to be there anymore. The unit was cleared
out last week. He never paid his deposit. When I
came to check the it was empty. I didn't sleep
that night. I ended up staying with a friend for
a week while I changed the locks, added cameras, and
(07:10):
begged the management to install a better security system. I
never saw him again, no forty address, no name, no
trace he ever lived there. But to this day, I
still wake up some nights thinking I hear a soft,
slow knock, and I always check my mat the next
day for a penny. This happened nearly a decade ago,
(07:38):
but the memory still lingers. I was around ten or eleven,
living in an apartment complex with my grandma. One day,
while walking the dog near a building, I heard a
voice behind me, nice ass. I turned to see two
teenage boys, probably around seventeen. One of them repeated the
comment louder this time. I was just a kid, clearly
(08:01):
not even the teenager yet. I ignored them and quickly
went back inside, hoping that would be the end of it.
But it wasn't. A few weeks later, I go outside
with my dog when one of the boys, the one
that had made the comment approached me. He started with
small talk, then asked how old I was. I told
(08:23):
him that I was ten or eleven. He said he
was seventeen. Then he asked which apartment I lived in.
I didn't answer. He invited me to his apartment to
play video games. I declined, saying I wasn't allowed to
go into strangers houses. He insisted, saying I could bring
my dog with me and that we would have fun.
(08:45):
Then he tried to grab my arm. I pulled away
and told him I needed to ask my grandma. He said, okay,
I'll be waiting for you at the swings. I went
inside and didn't tell my grandma. I had no intention
she's going back out there. After that, I saw him
around a few times, but always avoided him. Eventually, when
(09:07):
I turned thirteen, the encounter stopped. Looking back, I realized
how inappropriate and unsettling his behavior was. At the time,
I didn't fully grasp it, but now I understand the
danger I was in. So to that creepy seventeen year old,
let's not meet again. There's a lot of backstory about
(09:35):
how these neighbors tortured us, but I'm only going to
talk about the last terrifying encounter. I was seven and
my bed was facing my windows, which is important. I
woke up to my dog, Wrinkles, going crazy. She slept
in my room. But nothing like this had ever happened.
(09:56):
I was groggy, but I could hear knocking and movement
around my window. Suddenly I saw him as he opened
my window and moved the screen. I couldn't move. I
was terrified. I could still only see his hands and silhouette.
Then he said something so fucked up. What he said
(10:16):
was either I'm gonna fuck you or I'm gonna fuck
you up. He was close to getting in when I
ran into my parents' room and was shaking so hard
and crying. My parents couldn't understand me initially. They did
a second later, and my dad ran outside and saw
one of our deck chairs outside my window. There was
(10:37):
also a shoeprint. They called the police and already knew
this family and had responded to calls about them. They
never found him, but my parents thought he was home
and told the police, but his evil father said that
he hadn't seen him. Nothing else happened except for me
being terrified to sleep in my bed. This person and
(11:00):
made me feel unsafe in my home. I don't know
what his plan was. I'm terrified to think that he
could have hurt me or worse. I live in an
apartment complex, and up until recently, the unit above me
(11:20):
belonged to an older woman. When she moved out, a quiet,
humble family took her place, elderly couple, the twenty five
year old daughter and fifteen year old son. At first,
everything seemed completely normal. I'm not exactly social with the
building's residents, but I'd give a polite nod or a
quick hello whenever we crossed paths. The boy always struck
(11:45):
me as unusually shy. Every time I greeted him, it
was like I startled him. He'd freeze up or I'm
almost something outder his breath clearly uncomfortable. The first few
months went by without incident. Then nowhere the screaming started.
It wasn't normal teenage frustration. This wasn't shouting at a
(12:07):
video game or bickering with family. It was guttural, repetitive,
almost primal. He let out long, drawn out screams, sometimes
just so deep ah. Other times it was a panicked no,
followed by swearing. Since their apartment was directly above mine.
(12:28):
The noise was constant and inescapable. At the time, my
grandmother was very ill, and this stress was always eating
away at me. One day I snapped. I yelled back
up to the ceiling, telling him to shut up. To
my surprise, he did. They yelling stopped for a while,
(12:49):
or at least it became less frequent. When my grandmother
passed away, I found myself caring even less. I wore
headphones most days anyway, for studying, gaming, whatever. The occasional
outbursts didn't bother me much anymore, But recently the screaming returned, louder,
(13:09):
more frequent. Still I brushed it off. He seemed like
a shy, awkward teenager, probably just finding in frustration over
a game or something trivial. Every time I saw him
in the hallway, he looked completely normal, quiet, polite, almost harmless.
That's when something happened that changed how I sold the
(13:30):
whole situation. Yesterday, my mom was expecting a package and
the delivery driver accidentally buzzed their apartment instead of ours.
My mom went downstairs to meet him, but the intercom
kept ringing. Eventually, the boy answered, but instead of speaking,
he started moaning on the intercom. Not a joke, not
(13:52):
a prank. It was disturbing mix of groaning, yelling, and
what sounded like he was growling in pain. My mom
was visibly shaken, and the delivery guy looked just as disturbed.
It didn't feel like a joke. It fell off wrong.
I don't know what to think. Maybe he has a condition,
(14:14):
schizophrenia or something similar. It might explain the episodes. But
then I hear from the neighbors that he has a girlfriend, friends,
and even a part time job. He goes out, he smiles,
he functions like any other teenager, and yet there's this
side of him. I'm not scared for myself. I'm head
(14:36):
enough to college in a month, but I can't stop
wondering should I be worried for my family? Has anyone
ever dealt with something like this before? Because the more
I think about it, the more it creeps under my skin.
This happened about three years ago, when I was twenty
(14:58):
four and living in a small, one room apartment in
the same city where I graduated. My uncle, who lived
in the same building, helped me find a place. It
was affordable, and I liked being close to someone. I trusted.
He was kind of a big deal in the building,
friendly with everyone in the ninety unit complex, always chatting
(15:19):
in the halls or helping someone carry groceries. It didn't
take long for people to start recognizing me as his niece.
About seven months after I moved in, I got a
random Facebook request. I didn't recognize a guy, but we
had my uncle in common, so I figured he was
a neighbor or something. He looked at me around my age.
(15:43):
Harmless enough, right, I accepted. At first, I thought nothing
of it, but he started messaging me saying that he
was my neighbor and knew my uncle. I replied politely,
though I wasn't looking to spark any kind of connection. Still,
I felt like ignoring him outright would be rude, especially
(16:04):
if he was friendly with my uncle. That's when I
started to piece it together. My uncle had always been
weirdly fixated on my love life, constantly asking me if
I had a boyfriend or if I was still single. Now,
this random guy about my age who just happened to
live in the building was suddenly very eager to talk
(16:24):
to me. Yeah, I'm pretty sure my uncle had a
hand in the setup. I wasn't interested, but I kept
it civil as long as he didn't cross any lines.
I figured I could manage being cordial. Then one day
my uncle asked for help with his Facebook account, totally normal.
(16:45):
He wasn't tech savvy, and I helped him before I
logged in for him, and right away a message popped up.
It was from that guy. The message seemed like part
of a longer conversation, but it was the only one there.
All the rest had been deleted, something about needed help,
(17:06):
followed by a laughing emoji. It fell off like they
had been talking about me. I was irritated. I started
replying to the guy less and less, hoping he'd be
less interested. I had never flirted or encouraged anything. I
was just trying not to be rude. Eventually the messages
(17:27):
died down. I assumed it had ended. Then one evening,
after work, I opened my door to head out for groceries.
A pack of chocolates fell from the doorknob. No note,
no context, just chocolate. I was confused, but didn't think
too much of it. Maybe it was a mistake that
(17:50):
brought them inside and left them on the counter. A
few days later, another gift, this time a small potted
flower with a note glued to thee I saw you
and I like you with a smiley face. That was
the moment it turned from weird to terrifying. I was
(18:11):
a woman in her twenties, living alone, and now someone
was leaving anonymous gifts, someone who said they had saw me.
I started spiraling who had access to my door, who
had been watching me? Then, lay clockwork, that same guy
messaged me again. It all clicked. It had to be him,
(18:34):
but I didn't want to confront him directly. He was big,
easily over six feet tall, broad, muscular, and always seen
walking a massive dog. And he knew exactly where I lived.
So I waited, hoping he would give himself away. Days past,
I bought pepper spray. I started listening for footsteps in
(18:55):
the hallway. Every creek near my door made my heart raise.
But nothing, No more gifts, no messages. I let myself
breathe a little until I checked my mailbox. Small folded notes,
a dozen of them, each one with poems, short four
(19:17):
line verses, dripping with cheesy romance, notes like I hope
you liked the chocolate and You're charming. Some of them
were dated one for each day of the month. That
meant they had been delivered consistently. The same day the
chocolates appeared, there was a note to go with it.
(19:38):
I just hadn't checked the mailbox in time. That was it.
I texted him and asked directly if he was behind it.
He denied everything. He played the victim, claiming he just
liked my style and thought I was interesting. Said I
was overreacting, that he would never do something like that.
Even when I put it out the time, I mean,
(20:00):
he brushed it off. And here's the worst part. I
started to doubt myself. Maybe I was being mean, maybe
it wasn't really him. But after I sent that message,
everything stopped instantly. No more gifts, no more poems, no
more texts, nothing. I don't have concrete proof that it
(20:23):
was him, but let's be honest the time, he couldn't
be clearer. The second I called him out, the whole
charade ended. I still live in that building. He does too.
When we've passed each other in the hallway, he just
gives me a tight smile and says, HI, that's it.
(20:44):
I haven't had a problem since. Oh and my uncle
moved out not long after that. So I guess you
could call that a happy ending.
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