ATRD Ep. 145 - Scary Truck Driver And More Strange & Scary Stories
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It's an education you can tailor to your schedule. That means you don't have to put your life on hold to pursue your professional goals. Instead, enjoy learning your way and earning a degree without missing a beat. A different future is closer than you think with Capella University. Learn more at capella.edu. If you have a true scary story you'd like to share with the podcast, go to astheravendreams.com and click the button to send it my way.

Also, if the platform you're on has the option to rate the podcast or leave a comment, please consider doing so. And as always, thank you. Since I was a kid, I always enjoyed going on road trips with my family. That love only grew as I got older and I wanted to go everywhere that I could. However, you kind of start running out of money if you're not working, so I had this brilliant idea to try trucking.

I started out just doing ride-alongs. I was just the entertainer, basically, while a more seasoned trucker would drive. I would occasionally drive, but it was more on the open and flat roads when there wasn't harsh weather. It was a blast. I enjoyed every minute of it, so I did everything I had to until I had a truck of my own. I worked for an independent contractor, so I would be hauling supplies for a lot of different companies.

But the truck was mine. And I made it look everything like me. It was a royal purple. I even went a little extra on the inside. I was practically going to be living in it, so I might as well make it look like the world's smallest studio apartment. Right? Now, I know I haven't been a trucker nearly as long as some of my co-workers, but I have still loved every minute of it. Okay, well, most of it.

Sometimes there are those unavoidable situations that I could live without, but for the most part, it was a dream job for me. Now, there were a few times that I didn't love it as much, but I can't even include them in the unavoidable parts. These were more so just bizarre or weird, so instead of complaining about them, I decided I would share them with the world. This first one happened to me back in 2019.

It was a hot and beautiful July driving across New Mexico. Also, one of my favorite states to drive through. I had my windows down, was enjoying the warm air and probably singing along to something. It was around 5 or 6 p.m. I remember this because I was debating on stopping for food when I first noticed it. A truck in my side mirror. It looked dark in color, but it was pretty far behind me.

I could also tell that it was gaining on me. As it got closer, something about it kept catching my eye. I didn't realize it until it was right behind me. It looked a lot like mine. It was purple and it had the silver pinstriping down the center. I thought, "Huh, what a coincidence." Then the truck passed me and I could see the box trailer that it was hauling. It was funny at the time, because the logo on it was like the opposite of mine.

I don't want to mention the actual partner I work with, but basically, I was hauling stuff for something like Waterworks Unlimited, whereas they were hauling for Desert Dynamics. Again, I thought it was amusing and left it at that. It passed me and it slowly faded in the distance. Later on, I had finally decided to make a stop for food.

When I got back on the road again at the intersection to get on the highway, I once again saw what I assumed to be the same truck that I had seen earlier. Looking at it more, it was bizarre to see just how much it was the same as my truck. It was the same royal purple and silver. It was even a Kenworth like mine. And while I did get the custom paint job, anyone could have chosen those colors.

But what are the odds that it would look the exact same? Be the same model? And even have the same sticker in the window that I had? The sticker is a Moogle riding on a Chocobo. If you've ever played Final Fantasy, you know what those are. It's so very specific that it blew me away to see it. I couldn't believe it. Their windows were pretty dark though, so I couldn't see the driver, unfortunately.

I was hoping they would have noticed too and maybe we would have had a little moment, but my light turned green before then. I just held on to the moment and continued with my drive, excited to share the story with my friends. Alas, I would have one more run in with this truck. This time, it was in Arizona. I had stayed at a truck stop overnight and got up to use the restroom and freshen up before I headed out again.

But as I opened my door and stepped out, I saw that purple truck parked a few spaces over from mine. This time, I had nothing stopping me. I walked right over to the truck to see it up close. I was shocked. It was the exact same as mine.

A Kenworth W900, purple with silver, the Final Fantasy sticker in the window, and it also had a small rust spot on the bottom of the passenger side door, just like mine. Seriously, what are the odds of that? I had to get a picture of it to compare and show as proof, but as I was snapping one, the door to the cabin opened up.

A small woman steps out, with short brown hair and green eyes, wearing a black ghost face hoodie. Guess who else is a small short brown haired girl with green eyes, wearing a ghost face hoodie. I cannot make this up. I knew what she had to be thinking because I was thinking the same thing. I just didn't know what to say out loud until she did. She said that I had a nice truck, and I started laughing.

Thankfully, she found the humor in it too and confirmed that she was indeed the same truck I saw the other two times. We talked about where we were heading and all of our similarities and even shared a few photos. She said it was also a custom paint job that her husband had surprised her with. I was missing the husband in that equation. I got a loan to get my truck all customized and fixed up. But other than looking identical and our trucks matching to a T...

The rest of us that we discussed were actually the exact opposite. She was married with two kids. I was single. I lived in Texas. She was from North Dakota on a long haul and she hated the heat. There were some other similarities and stark differences, but it was just so crazy to experience. It was like it was me from some sort of parallel universe.

I wanted to add her on Facebook or something just to keep in touch, but she didn't offer and neither did I. I don't know if she felt the same way, but part of me thought that maybe we weren't supposed to run into each other. Maybe if I did become friends with her, it could mess things up. So I just took this as one of those crazy experiences that I'm glad that I could witness and we went on our ways. I wouldn't mind running into her again though.

My second experience that I wanted to tell you about was still strange, but also a bit more creepy. This time it was last year, around November. I was heading to Oregon and it was already pretty chilly and being used to warm weather, I was pretty bundled up. While driving along, I looked over and noticed that my passenger side mirror was off.

I'm very particular with my mirrors, and it drives me crazy when they get moved. It was going to bother me until I fixed it. I had already been driving for a few hours, and I thought that I could stop for a quick break, stretch some, and fix my mirrors, and also have a snack while I'm at it. The road I was on had some decent traffic passing by, and it had a good-sized shoulder, so I decided to pull over.

Once stopped, I grabbed one of my meal bars and got out of my truck to walk around a bit. My driver's side mirror looked fine, so I walked around the back of my truck and to my passenger side. Now, the problem with adjusting those mirrors, and why it's such a big deal to me, is because it's not as simple as adjusting the mirrors on your little sedan. You have to adjust it some, get in and check, adjust some more, ad nauseum.

I can practically zone out at this point trying to adjust it. But then, as I was fiddling with the mirror and picking at something I spotted on my truck, I heard the familiar sound of tires slowly creeping upon gravel. I looked over just enough to see a small black car stop in front of my truck. I thought it was a cop at first, but once I did a double take, it was obvious that it wasn't. My second guess was that it was just your average guy wanting to help.

I got that quite often as a woman. The fact that he didn't stop to do something in his car and approached me first told me this too. I watched my peripheral as he approached my truck. He stopped by my front passenger side, and I waited for him to say something, but he never did. I finished tweaking my mirror and got in to check it once more. It looked right, so... Then my attention was turned to this guy that was now walking closer to my truck door.

I was hoping he wouldn't, but part of me was wondering if he was going to step on the side to look in or even open my door. But to my surprise, he didn't. I watched him walk down the side of my truck, just looking at it like he was inspecting it. He didn't touch anything. He just looked at it. But watching him then was when I realized what he was wearing. He was in denim shorts and a Hawaiian shirt.

that was clearly unbuttoned as it was waving in the wind. As I mentioned, it was November in Oregon, and this guy was dressed like he was sitting on the beach in July. I know everyone can handle temperatures different, but that was the first time I'd seen something that extreme, so it definitely had me raising an eyebrow. I watched him walk towards the back of my truck and out of my sight. I got a little suspicious at that point because I didn't know what he was doing back there,

So I got out of my truck again and casually walked to the back to see him once more, just standing there and staring at it. I asked him if there was something that I could help him with, and he didn't even look over at me. I started to become a bit more paranoid at that point. I had heard stories about truckers being robbed, and since he was just staring at the back doors, I was concerned on if he was going to try something. He had a normal-sized car, though, so...

It's not exactly like he had the room to take what I was hauling. I again asked him if he needed something, otherwise I needed to go, trying to sound a bit more firm in my statement. He then looked over at me and just gave the largest, fake-looking smile I had ever seen. I gave him quite the look back, like a, what the hell are you doing, type look. I told him that I was going to leave and started walking back to my door. I was only a few steps away from it when he finally spoke.

"Bye Rachel." That stopped me dead in my tracks because, yeah, my name is Rachel. Good guess? Or how the hell did he know my name? There was nothing on my truck or the hoodie that I was wearing that had my name on it. I stared at him for several seconds as he went back to smiling. I asked him what he said, knowing very well what he said, but he didn't respond.

I wanted to ask him how he knew my name, but something felt off. Maybe this was a setup and a distraction that I was about to fall into. I wasn't willing to take the chances, so I jumped in, quickly checked the back, and then locked the doors. At this time, the man had walked to the driver's side, still standing towards the back and continuing to smile at me.

As I drove away, I watched him in my mirror, continuing to stand in the same place, never moving, never waving. He just stood there and watched me drive away, smiling the entire time. I don't know what the hell that was all about. I never ran into him again, and I never heard anything about anyone else having a similar experience. And while I keep thinking that maybe he was just messing around with someone on the shoulder...

I can't get past the fact that he knew my name. So I guess I'll never know what his true motive was, but I'm glad it wasn't anything beyond his creepy smile and questionable winter wardrobe.

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Max Bankman, I'm the new doctor. Welcome aboard the Odyssey. ABC Thursdays. This ship is heaven. We're tending to our passengers' dreams. I'm in. From 9-1-1 executive producer Ryan Murphy comes a splashy new drama on a luxury cruise ship with Joshua Jackson and Don Johnson. It's your job to keep everyone alive. She's in V-fit. One, two, three. Clear. I have a pulse. You're going to be okay. Dr. Odyssey. Thursdays, 9, 8 central on ABC. And stream on Hulu.

Hi Raven. One of your podcasts had sparked this memory from me and I hope that you find it interesting. When I was younger, I don't remember the age, I just know I was single digits, maybe between seven and nine years old, I used to have a hard time falling asleep. My grandma, who took care of me and my sister as well as a number of our cousins from time to time,

My sister and I didn't have our parents in our lives. They are alive, just not good people. Aside from my dad. The room set up where us girls were was one bunk bed on the far wall where a window was, and one single bed where one side was pressed against the wall.

I can't remember what led us all to be so terrified to sleep alone, but I remember my sister, who I'll call Stacy, my cousin, who we'll call Casey, were not okay with sleeping alone, so we piled into the bottom bunk. My grandma decided to come sleep with us that night, which was unusual, as my grandmother was not a nice or caring person, but it caused all three of us to be relieved. My heart is pounding just typing this out.

At some point, we all fall asleep, and Casey decided to move to her bed, the top bunk. I'm not sure why, but I woke up and had the sudden urge to leave the bed, as I felt uncomfortable and needed to use the bathroom. Even as a kid, I was never disturbed by nightly bathroom visits, so this was very weird. The room was pitch black. I couldn't see anything at all, and that was my first indicator that there was something off.

There was a ladder, as most bunk beds have, so I remember trying to find it so I could find the edge of the bed. But when I reached out, I was met with a wall. The bunk bed was a metal one, typical for the 90s, and had an opening on all sides. I remember thinking that that was weird, so I ran my hand up and down it, and followed it to see if I could find an empty space. Again, it was pitch black.

I couldn't even see the wall no matter how close I got to it. I couldn't find anywhere that would allow me to get out, so I resorted to waking my grandma. I knew that she would be livid, but wetting the bed would have made her more angry, so I was willing to take the whooping for waking her. Here's where things became scary for my young self. There was no one else in the bed with me. Stacy and my grandmother were no longer asleep in that bed.

At this point, I became frantic. I was sobbing and running my hands along where I thought the ladder was, and then tried where I thought the window was, hoping I could feel the curtain to pull it aside and shed some light into the room. No matter where I placed my hand, I was met with a wall. Smooth, lukewarm wall. I couldn't find an out.

I didn't know what to do, so I tried hitting the walls and calling for my grandma, sister, cousin, but no one came. It was as if I was trapped somewhere else and not in our tiny three-bed room. Something told me that panicking like this wouldn't help. Then a weird sense of calm came over me, like I knew if I focused on imagining myself back in that room, I would be back. So I took quite a few deep breaths.

I have no idea how my young mind knew this would work. I stopped crying and imagined the walls gone. I closed my eyes, counted to ten, opened my eyes and then reached for the ladder. The wall was gone and the pitch black lifted like a light switch being flipped. The ladder was back and so was my sister. I got up to use the bathroom. The power of my grandma's whoopings were no joke. Alternate reality or not, I was not wetting that bed.

When I got up to go, Grandma was awake in her room and asked me why I was up. When she saw my face tear streaked in red, she asked what was wrong, and I remember just saying, "I had to go potty but I couldn't see so I got scared." I don't know why I didn't tell her what really happened. I think I was scared that she wouldn't believe me, but I never did. To this day, I still don't know what happened, but I know that it was real.

I suffer from sleep paralysis brought on from PTSD, but the things that I see when I'm in those dreams is enough for me to constantly question if we are alone on this plane. Maybe I'll share one of those stories, but for now, I hope that you enjoyed this one, Raven. On a sun-drenched afternoon at the Gold Coast, Surfer's Paradise, in Brisbane, Australia, I strolled along the beach.

the salty sea air mingling with the scent of sunscreen. While savoring my ice cream, I watched hot guys with chiseled abs playing beach volleyball out on the sand. It wasn't until I sat down to rest that I realized my sunglasses had broken. Apparently, I had sat on them. So I decided to pop into a nearby sunglasses store to replace them. It was a relief to escape the burning sand on my feet and step into the icy air conditioning of the store.

As I walked into the store and began browsing the sunglasses, I noticed something unusual in their reflection. Behind me stood an extraordinarily tall man, about seven feet high, with skin as white as a piece of paper. His height was striking, making him stand out even more in the store's bright light. At first, I thought that he might be an albino, but then I noticed more details.

His fingers were unnaturally long, his ears and nose were tiny, and his eyes were enormous, almost double the size of normal eyes. The next thing I noticed was even stranger. It didn't look like he had teeth at all. Instead, his mouth seemed to have little ridges where teeth would normally be. When he took off the glasses he'd been trying on, I saw his eyes more clearly.

Not only were they huge, they weren't the usual green, brown, or blue. Instead, they were a striking reddish-pink with a blue ring around them. At that point, I think I may have gasped in shock. With the sound of my gasp, I caught his attention. He turned to look directly at me, his huge eyes locking onto mine. I was frozen, not knowing what to do or where to turn.

The intensity of his gaze left me feeling completely paralyzed. When he spoke, the sound that came out was almost like a bird chirping, so delicate and faint that I wasn't sure if it was really him or if he had a baby bird in his pocket. Then I heard a voice in my mind, clear and soothing, saying, Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I know I look strange, but I'm not here to harm you.

At that moment, I was hit with a wave of sensation, like the warm, soothing rush of morphine. It felt like he had some kind of magical power, using it to wrap me in a cocoon of calm. Everything seemed peaceful as if I were in paradise, and I felt completely at ease, as though nothing could harm me. Was this some kind of drug, or was this something else entirely?

As he paid for the sunglasses, I couldn't help shake the feeling of awe and curiosity. The telepathic message and the serene calm he had instilled in me made me question everything. Was this encounter real, or was I dreaming? The strange sense of calm lingered as I watched him leave, disappearing into the bustling street outside. Has he walked away? I felt a surge of curiosity. I decided to follow him, hoping to catch a glimpse of something extraordinary.

Maybe a portal like the one I'd heard about at the Miami mall. But as I reached the street outside, there was nothing unusual to see. Just the waves crashing and the sound of people laughing on the beach. He had vanished without a trace, leaving me with more questions than answers. What did I just witness? Was this simply a tall, albino man? Or was he what they call a tall white? Like the ones I've recently researched.

I'm beginning to think that maybe not all aliens are as bad as we see in the movies. Perhaps some, like this one, can actually be kind. This encounter made me realize that maybe we should approach the idea of aliens with curiosity, rather than fear. After all, there's a lot we don't understand, and kindness may be more common among them than we think.

I've been a trucker for a good 24 years now, and I've seen, heard, and hell, even smelled some crazy things on my time on the road. From bad road rage cases, to damn near being the cause to the end of a high speed chase, and finding some pretty weird things on the side of the road, I feel like I've seen it all.

but this one thing I experienced back in 2008 still has me shrugging my shoulders with no explanation in sight. It was about mid-December. I was on a pretty desolate stretch of highway in northern Montana, heading to my second pickup in North Dakota. The weather was getting pretty bad due to a hellacious snowstorm that was on the way, and kind of in the midst of it.

The roads were already pretty well covered, and with the wind and the snowfall, you had to be very careful in a big rig. One wrong move, or one jerk not giving you enough room, could make for a pretty bad day. I was fairly used to driving in this stuff at that point, so I knew the steps to take to control and stay in control of the situation. I was a stickler for rules and following all the safety protocols, and because of that, I was cool and calm.

knowing that I would be okay. I was listening to music until around 2:00 a.m. when I started getting some chatter on my radio. Sometimes truckers will share road conditions or just shoot the breeze to keep each other awake. It's always on a random channel, separate from our normal dispatch channels, but I like to tune in at times and join in on the antics. But this time it caught my attention for a couple of reasons.

The first one was that I don't remember changing my channel. I still had it on my dispatch. Or so I thought. So, it was odd to not hear Rhonda's voice. And, leaning into the second reason, it was a man's voice, and instead of things that I would normally hear from Rhonda, or the other guys messing around, this guy's voice was low and gravelly, and all I heard was, ''Is anyone there?''

At first, I didn't reply. Waiting to see what was going on, but there was no reply after his third hello, so I answered. "Hey, this is Chief. What's up, boss?" What I didn't expect was his response. "Help, please. Anyone?" I was immediately concerned. Was this another trucker that was maybe in an accident?

Or maybe there was a medical emergency, so I asked if he was okay, and again, all I got was, "'Please, it's so cold. Truck won't start.'" Now I was worried for him. If his truck wouldn't start, maybe he was in an accident, or maybe it just broke down. But the fact that he was complaining about being cold made me think he was exposed to the elements."

This was a pretty large and empty strip of highway, so who knows if anyone else has even been through there since this accident. I knew that I had to stop. I knew that I had to find this guy and help. What's your 20, boss? I asked him. After a pause, he finally responded. Mile marker 247? Please don't leave me. I knew where that was. I told him I was about 12 miles out and to hang tight, and he responded with...

"'Don't forget about me.' I switched back to my dispatch and told them about the trucker and the accident, and said I was stopping for them and they confirmed that they heard me. When I approached 247, I slowed down and started looking a lot closer to the roads and shoulder. I was expecting to see a rig somewhere, but I didn't see one. I thought maybe he was toward the end of 247, so I slowed and pulled over to the shoulder.'

I tried to radio the guy again, remembering what channel I was on, but there was nothing there but static. I waited a few minutes and then started to put it back into drive to go further down the road when I finally got a response. "Please, I'm cold." I told him that I couldn't see anyone or anything from where I was. I had been keeping an eye out and slowed down when I hit 246, but there was nothing around. I knew that I hadn't passed anyone or anything.

Even in a snowstorm, it's kind of hard to miss a big rig. I again radioed to him, saying I was here and asked for a better idea of where he was. I see you, Chief. Don't you see me? I was confused. I definitely did not see anyone around, so I got out of my truck and looked around again. I don't know why I thought I would be able to see any better out there, but I certainly couldn't.

It was dark, the wind was painfully cold, but the silence was deafening. There wasn't a single soul in sight, so where the hell was this guy? As I walked back to my truck, I started to get a little annoyed. What if someone was just pulling a prank? Now they've interrupted my route and got me out in the cold for no reason. So I called out to the guy one more time, but I was probably a little more angry with my tone.

I told them that I hadn't seen anything and that I didn't appreciate being messed with. I then tried to ask for their name or who they were contracting with, but I didn't get anything back. This only irritated me more. I felt that they were messing with me and that's why they weren't answering. I ended up calling it into my dispatch, mentioning a distress call I heard, but that I couldn't see anybody. Just as a precaution to see if they could either send an emergency vehicle to check it out or something like that, but that was it.

I tried looking. I was starting to feel like a dumbass for actually stopping, but at least if it was real, I sensed someone who could probably do more than what I could. I started my truck back up and slowly pulled off the shoulder. Now, at this point, I was back on with my dispatch channel. I had no reason to turn back, but yet, there his voice was again. Thanks anyways, Chief. And that was it.

I tried to ask him what he meant, was he messing with me, just give me some kind of answer, but there was nothing. Not until I heard Rhonda's voice asking me to repeat what I had said. Apparently Rhonda had heard what I was saying to the other guy, but she also heard the guy thank me. He seemed to be on the same channel now as us. She asked me if that was the guy that I was talking about and tried to get him to respond, but it was back to nothing. He never spoke to us again.

Rhonda said that she would pass along the information, being even more willing to, I guess, after hearing the guy for herself. Rhonda listens to all of us frequently. She knows our voices. She told me that she did not recognize his voice either. As for me, I just kept on going, thinking back to that whole situation over and over again.

Fast forward past the long, boring part of the route, and I'm now heading back home to Idaho, and I made a stop in Montana again for some breakfast. While there, I was reading a newspaper that nearly made me lose my mind. There was a story about a truck that had run off the road and flipped down into an embankment. The driver was dead by the time anyone arrived. No one knows why it happened or what caused the accident, but it's a story that I'll

and it said the investigation was still ongoing as to his cause of death, as they were still unsure if it was what may have caused the accident, or if he died because of it. The problem I had with this was that the newspaper was older, about a week or two. I don't remember the exact date, but the story mentioned the truck and the man was found at mile marker 247. A man died in that same location that I was in about a week before I was there.

I definitely didn't see any trucks on the road, on the shoulder, or in the embankment. Was this a new accident? Was this someone who knew the story and was trying to play a really sick joke? Or was it the man that died? Was he still out there trying to come to terms with his own demise? I brought the newspaper back with me to show some folks, and they all seemed to think it was a prank, but I believe in spirits. There are things out there that we don't understand.

Because we can't and probably never will, and quite honestly, shouldn't. Some things just need to be left alone. And part of me wonders if maybe he was trying to call for help one last time. Maybe he was unable to the first time, and maybe he was trying to replay the events? I don't know for sure, and I know that I never will know, but I hope the sincerity in his voice when he thanked me was real.

I hope if that really was the case that I was able to give him some relief in knowing that maybe he wasn't alone in his last moments, and that someone was really there, or trying to be there for him. Hi Raven. You recently read one of my stories, and I mentioned that I had content that would keep you busy for months. So, I decided to put pen to paper and share another experience.

What I'm about to share was 100% not a dream. It was one of the most real things I have ever experienced. This is going a ways back, but fortunately, my childhood friend told me to write my dreams and paranormal experiences down, as I have many of them. She explained that keeping a journal or record of them helps us understand the dreams, messages, themes, and makes better connections or sense of them.

I took her advice and started keeping a journal about my dreams and paranormal experiences after the death of my aunt. In March of 2015, my favorite aunt passed away. I was exceptionally close to this aunt, and I took her death very hard. In fact, I grieved her death for several years after. This aunt was an identical twin. Her twin had died in April of 1989 and lived in another country.

My twin aunts were very special to me because they raised my father as my grandmother died when he was a baby. The twins were about 16 years older than my father. Their father, my grandfather, remarried soon after my biological grandmother passed away. The twins' new stepmother was very abusive to my father when he was a baby, and she was very unkind to my twin aunts.

The twins soon moved out of the family home and they took my father and raised him. Honestly, I'm forever indebted to the twins and the two other aunts that worked together to raise my father. One of the twin aunts owned a home in the United States. This is the aunt that meant the world to me. Sadly, March of 2015 marked a great loss in my life and left a gaping hole in my life. This story is about her.

So, in June of 2017, I went to bed on a Wednesday night, and in the wee hours of the morning on Thursday, around 4:15, I woke up and sat straight up in my bed. Incidentally, I am certain of the dates and times as I referred to a journal entry before writing this. Anyways, upon waking up, I realized my husband was already up and out of bed.

He left the house for the gym as he typically does before going to work. I felt his absence on his side of the bed and suddenly I became wide awake. Normally I know that his absence from the bed in the wee hours of the morning means he was either downstairs getting ready for his commute and long work day or he was at the gym. This would not be cause for alarm. In fact, it would be reason for me to roll over onto his side and fall into an even deeper slumber.

Not on this day. So, when I slid my hand over to his empty side of the bed, something felt unusual. I didn't know what, though, but I suddenly became wide awake, as if I had had my morning caffeine fix and the jolt following. It was as if I went from a full-on deep sleep state to a full-on awake state with not even a hint of grogginess in between.

This is quite rare for me, so it definitely felt strange to say the least. Anyways, I sat up, fully alert, my eyes wide open, and I looked over at the oversized yellow chair in the corner of my bedroom. There, sitting right in my chair, was my aunt, Janine. The aunt that had passed away in 2015. It was as if she was sitting there quietly waiting for me to wake up and see her sitting there. Oddly enough, I wasn't scared.

I knew in that moment that she was dead, but all I felt was a bit of surprise and ultimately joy to see her again. My aunt was not a ghost. She was not transparent. She looked exactly like herself, only healthier. She was as solid and as real as any person. In fact, she actually looked better than she did before she had died. I'd say she looked as if she had been on a long tropical vacation.

Her face was full of life and color. Her skin had a glow that radiated light that isn't something we'd see on living people. I mean, she still looked like an 88-year-old woman, but she looked healthy, vibrant, and overall amazing, especially with this heavenly glow. Our conversation was telepathic. I asked her what she was doing. We talked telepathically for what seemed like quite a long time.

Although I don't remember everything we discussed during our conversation, I clearly remember that she told me that everything that I was concerned about in life, with my kids, and my job, was going to work out great. And I didn't have to worry about it anymore. At one point, the conversation took a bit of a negative turn. I began sharing with her that I was still grieving because she was no longer alive.

I became sad and teary as I expressed this to her. I told her I missed her very much and I wanted to go with her. She told me no, that I couldn't go with her. Then she stood up and walked out of the bedroom, down the hall and down the stairs. I watched her slowly disappear right before my eyes. She literally faded right before my eyes. I followed her as she slowly faded, reaching for her.

I was trailing behind her essence as she faded down the stairs and into the kitchen. I was audibly crying now and begging her to come back. Suddenly, something told me to go back into my bed and that she would be back, so I did. I ran back upstairs and climbed into my bed, obeying the seed that was planted into my mind. I wanted my aunt to come back and visit me. I felt our conversation wasn't over.

As I went up the stairs to return to my bed, I was aware that my kids were still asleep and that my husband was still at the gym. I'm not sure how long I was in bed for because I kept looking over at the clock, knowing that I would have to get up and get ready for work at 5.45am. It couldn't have been very long though. I was awake and I heard a noise coming from the kitchen downstairs. It prompted me to call out to what I assumed was my husband.

I thought the noise in the kitchen was him returning from the gym, but it wasn't him. He still had not come back just yet. So, I adjusted my body and tried to get comfortable and hoped that my aunt would return. I turned over onto my side, faced the oversized yellow chair in the corner of my bedroom, and pulled the blankets back over me. At that moment, I glanced at the yellow chair and my aunt Janine was sitting there. She came back, but something was different about her.

She had changed her outfit. I know this sounds insane, but she came back with a totally different outfit on. Now, my aunts were some of the most fashionable women I have ever known. In life, they were notorious for changing their outfits three or four times a day. They were real clothes horses. As my aunt sat there, she was now wearing a cotton button-down shirt that was light-colored,

The shirt had a delicate floral print, and this time she had on a pair of shorts. But not too short. I found it strange that she had changed her clothes. After all, she was dead. So, even though I thought it was weird, I didn't ask her why she changed her clothes. I guess I was just so glad that she came back. As I sat in my bed and examined her outfit change, I was focused on the texture of her shirt and the print of the fabric of her shirt.

It looked familiar. Months after this experience, I reviewed old photographs only to discover the shirt she wore during the visitation was the same shirt she wore the last time she came to the United States, and to my home. As I looked her outfit over, I noticed the familiar veins in her hands.

Not to be unkind, but my aunt had veiny hands, and for a very tiny woman under a hundred pounds, her hands and fingers were somewhat less than delicate. Her hands were all too familiar. Once again, my aunt telepathically told me that she has to go now and that I couldn't come with her. I was now sitting upright in my bed. She walked over and she hugged me tightly. I felt her two hands on my upper back.

I have never felt something more real. This was the deepest, most penetrating hug that I have ever felt. It touched me deep into the depths of my soul. This angelic hug isn't something that can easily be described. That heavenly feeling stayed with long after she left. After she hugged me, she grabbed my two hands and squeezed them tightly.

I looked down and saw her square-shaped fingers and her veiny hands as they squeezed mine. She told me that she loved me and that she would never leave me. The hug she gave me is one that I will never forget. I felt completely at peace. Then, once again, she vanished. Afterwards, I stood up, left the bedroom, went downstairs and looked all around the house, tearfully looking for her again. At which point, my husband walked into the kitchen.

He saw me crying as I walked from room to room looking for my aunt. He asked me what happened as he saw how distraught I was, and I told him what I had just experienced. I thought that he wouldn't believe me or he would think that I was dreaming, but he just knew. He saw it on my face. He knew that she really had come to see me. He told me he fully believed she had just visited me and he wasn't even surprised. He understood that special bond that we had.

This visitation was an experience that left me physically and mentally exhausted for a few days. I felt as if I hadn't slept in a week. So on top of this visitation that took place on a Thursday, a few days later, the next Monday morning, my aunt's son, my cousin, sends me a text while I'm at work. His text message came at a very unusual time, as he almost never texts me.

This particular Monday morning, when I arrived at work, we had an emergency faculty meeting before school began. I'm both a college professor and an elementary school teacher. This faculty meeting and situation took place at the elementary school, not the university.

We were told that half of the building would be closed off and students in this wing would be relocated to other areas and join other classrooms in the building until pest control dealt with a bat situation. There were bats spotted in the other wing of the building. Obviously, the teachers didn't want to create mass hysteria with students and their families, but truth be told, I'm terrified of birds and bats. So, needless to say, my anxiety level inside of me was elevated.

The bird/bat fear likely stemmed from having a red-tailed hawk swoop down at me and graze my cheek once when running in the park. Either that, or having some insane teacher show the Alfred Hitchcock movie "The Birds" when I was in sixth grade. That would be scarring to any young child. Anyhow, that's a story for another day. Just know that flying creatures have always freaked me out.

So around 9.30am on this particular Monday, I look at my cell phone on my desk only to be surprised that I got a text message from my cousin. Before I read the text, I was worried that it was some bad news about another elderly relative in decline. Thankfully it wasn't. Instead it was a picture of my aunt with her arms spread out and a bunch of giant birds all over her arms. The text said, "...here is someone to brighten your day."

Honestly, I just found it so ironic that at that very moment, right there in that elementary school with the flying bat situation, my cousin that almost never texts me decides to send me this random picture of my aunt, a tiny old lady with all these giant birds on her arms and head, from when she was in Costa Rica on a vacation years ago when she was alive. It was as if my aunt was reminding me not to worry about anything.

In a weird twist, my fear about birds and bats melted away in that moment, and I felt that same feeling of peace wash over me, the same way I did after I felt her angelic hug. I think my fear melted away because that texted picture of her in that very moment was a clear reminder that, although she is no longer living, she is still with me, just like she promised.

She said she would always be with me. I've been a long-haul trucker for over two decades now, and I've learned that I quite enjoy listening to podcasts such as yours and other similar ones over music. It seems to keep my mind more occupied and thinking, especially on those long, boring stretches of road. But sometimes us truckers have our own stories to share.

And I would like to share one of those with you today. This happened when I was younger. Late 20s and around 2012. I know it was quite some time ago, but the events were so bizarre. I will never forget the details. I was much more spry and bright at that age. The job was still somewhat new to me, and I was excited.

I always wanted to travel all over and this was a good way to do it. I smiled and talked to anyone that I could. I sampled different restaurants and local stores and took even more pictures than I knew what to do with. Around that time, hitchhikers were also pretty common at the start of long stretches of highway and while it was still risky, some people tried to find the good in others and to help out.

I was often one of those people. Thankfully, I never really had a bad experience. Most people were more than willing to tell me how they got there, where they've been, their regrets, and accomplishments. I always enjoyed practically living through them as I listened to their stories. I had a few people who weren't interested in talking, which was fine. Even though they didn't talk much, if at all, I knew they still appreciated the ride.

but there was one experience with a hitchhiker that I picked up that was nothing like any of my other passengers. It was around midnight, and I was, as usual, on a long haul from Sacramento to Denver. I could get by with only a few hours of sleep, and I was trying to push myself to the next stop which would take me close to an hour. As I drove along, I had to do a double-take as I saw someone ahead on the shoulder walking along.

It was strange because it was midnight and on a long stretch of empty highway. Where did they even come from? But as I approached them, I was shocked to realize that it was a woman. Women weren't uncommon, necessarily, but we typically saw them closer to rest stops, diners, and the sort. Not in the middle of nowhere in the dark. Now, of course, most might think that's pretty suspicious, but against my better judgment, I stopped.

I didn't even hesitate because I felt like she needed help. I stopped shortly after where she stood, and I saw her running towards my truck in the mirror. Unlike others who ask where I'm going and if it's okay to tag along, she jumps in immediately, slamming the door shut and locking it. She looked distressed and like she had been out there for a while. She was wearing a large sweater and shorts with no shoes.

Her hair looked like it hadn't been brushed for days, and she was breathing really fast. "'Drive,' she said. "'Please just drive. Don't stop.' I hadn't even been able to say anything to her yet, but she sounded pretty scared. I put my truck back in drive and got on the road. We drove in silence for a few minutes, and I watched as she kept checking the mirror. I asked her if she was alright or if I needed to call for someone on the radio, but she just shook her head.'

"'No, I just want to get out of here before they catch up. Please?' "'I know some people might just think she was crazy, but if she was willing to get into a truck with a big and mean-looking trucker, then she must have really been desperate. "'I was certainly less worried for my safety, and more for hers. "'Was someone after her? And who? Why?'

I tried asking her who she was running from and what was going on, but she was in tears at this point, still shaking her head. I dropped it, not wanting to push her, and told myself that I just needed to find the first police station and take her there. We drove in silence for about 10 minutes or so, when she finally spoke again. They tried to make me sick, so I couldn't run away, but I just spat it back out. They want me to be like them. They don't want me to be human anymore.

Okay, so maybe the next stop was Crazy Town, right? But there was something in her voice. Something that made me think this was a real fear. I didn't want to scare her and wanted to keep her calm, so I told her that she was safe now and that she could stay with me as long as she wanted. She nodded and wiped her face and then went back to staring out the window or at the mirror. It wasn't much longer that I saw lights in my mirror as a car caught up with us.

I ignored it at first, cars happened, and eventually it would pass me anyways. But surprisingly, they never did. In fact, they honked. The woman immediately sat back up and looked in the mirror. Oh my god, they've found me. They're here. I tried asking her who, but she was hysterical at this point. I was not getting through to her, and for a moment, I was worried about who I had just picked up.

but as the car continued to honk behind me, I knew I had to do something about it. Okay, maybe part of that was more the curiosity in me, but still. I didn't want someone following behind me and honking. So, I pulled over. As soon as the woman noticed this, she started screaming at me to not stop and to not let them take her. I didn't want to touch her to make things worse on her, but I held my hands up and kept repeating myself.

I told her, ''I'm not going to let them take you, nor will they be able to even open the doors. I'm just going to try to get them to leave us alone.'' She continued to cry, but otherwise calmed down. I watched as two men wearing black got out of the car, and they approached each side of my truck. The guy on my side reached my door first, and I kid you not, the guy was wearing sunglasses. It was the middle of the night.

He stepped up onto my truck, took his glasses off, and smiled at me. I cracked the window just enough to hear him, but I could already hear her breathing start to shake. The man just said, "'Evening,' and she lost it. "'It's them! It's them! Please don't let them take me!' The guy continued smiling. "'Thank you for picking her up. She ran off when we were trying to give her a bath, and we worried about where she would end up due to her mental state.'

The guy said something about taking her home, and before I could even respond, the woman started screaming again. "I'm not crazy! I know who I am and what I was doing before they grabbed me! They're not even human, why can't you see that?" There was a brief moment where I was caught in between, and I didn't know what to do. I shouldn't have even stopped in the first place, per my company's policy.

but now I have a woman screaming that these men were not human, and the guys claiming she's crazy. I know a lot of people would probably side with the men, probably, but the look in her eyes was pure terror. It wasn't of someone out of their mind. It wasn't the sight of someone lying or delusional. She was pressed against my side trying to avoid both windows, and she looked terrified.

"'and maybe some might call me crazy too, "'but something definitely did not feel right, "'and my fight or flight was kicking in. "'So I took a deep breath to calm my nerves "'and told the men that she was free to go with them "'if she wanted to. "'The guy on the passenger side said nothing, "'but the guy on my side chuckled "'and tried to make a comment about how she was required to go with them. "'I cut him off and said that it was her choice.'

She said she wanted to stay with me, and the man said something about calling his superior, so I challenged him. I told him to go for it, that I would radio in to mine as well and let them know my location, and that I had a situation. That seemed to speak to him because he went back to his smile, and then they said that they would catch up to her later, and thanked me for again picking her up. Then they both walked off back to the car and sat there,

I was too nervous to leave, thinking they would just continue to follow me, so I waited too. I could feel the poor girl next to me shaking, and I could hear her rapid breaths as we sat there for probably a good 15-20 minutes before the car finally left. I still called it in since I had been idle for some time, and I let them know that something came up, but that was it.

The car slowly drove by us, and after I could no longer see their lights, I started my rig back up. As we drove, the woman gradually calmed down and thanked me through her quiet sobs. I tried to act like I wasn't equally freaked out, and just gave a shrug saying that it was no big deal. I didn't want to push her and get her worked up again, but I seriously had a lot of questions. Why was she in the middle of nowhere on a pretty empty highway?

Why were those guys looking for her, and most importantly, why did she think they weren't human? I know the most sane answer was probably that she was mentally unstable, but like I said, the fear in her eyes was real, and it was damn near palpable. I asked her if there was someplace that she wanted me to take her, or if she just wanted to go as far as she could with me, and she chose the latter.

She fell asleep shortly after, and I decided to keep driving because there was no way that I was sleeping now. She slept in small bursts, constantly waking up to any bump or loud talking from my radio, and would look around. Finally, that morning as the sun was rising, she asked if I could drop her off at a police station. I agreed.

without asking any questions and picked up my radio to see if dispatch could tell me where the closest one was in the city that I was about to hit. I just gave them a line about finding a wallet in a parking lot, and they gave me directions. When I got to the station, the woman told me that she didn't want to risk my life in case they found out who I was and tried to do the same to me for helping her.

She said that she would call one of her friends from the station to help get her home. She then shook my hand, said that her name was Gloria and thanked me again, and then she left. I waited until she walked into the station and then I waited a few more minutes, making sure she didn't come back out screaming something again. After she left, I won't lie to you, I was worried for her. I wanted to make sure she was okay and would be okay, but I was also left with a ton of questions.

Was there any truth to her statements about those guys not being human? Was the feeling of dread I got when they approached just my fight or flight? Or was there something more to it? And to her claims? I don't think that I will ever know, but hopefully, wherever she is today, she's safe and happy. I woke up, and there wasn't a sound around which is unusual, since I have a fan and a TV on all night.

I look next to me, and my partner's out cold. Here's a little insight. We're both gamers. I work 40 hours a week and go to school online as well. Let's just call him C for the story. I get up every morning for work at 2.30am. I leave by 2.45am and get to work by 2.55am. Of course, it's creepy at 3am opening a gas station by myself until the cashiers get there.

but I never pay attention until recently. It started when my mom and her ex broke up. The whole air around us seemed to change for the better. That was until my nephew woke up one night after everyone in the house heard a loud bang, and he was unconsolable. He never went back to bed that night, but I had an early appointment the next morning that we all went to. After getting home, everyone went back to bed.

Later that day, they left, leaving me and C home alone, and that's when the voices started. They sound like people in the house calling to us, talking. Whatever it is, we refused to leave the room. Now, fast forward a few days later, and I've been seeing a tall shadow following me all the way to work, and he hangs outside of our house. Being a Wiccan, I know not to engage with it or show it fear, but I'm starting to get freaked out.

We know that we have haunted items, but this is new. Side note, all the haunted items are usually saged or kept safely, to not disrespect nor disturb whatever it is that's attached. Hello Raven, I hope this post finds you and yours well. It's been a while since I've posted a story and this one really creeped me out, so I hope you enjoy it.

My son, 8, told me something that had the heebie-jeebies jiving all over my whole body. As an aside, I'm sorry, but that is an amazing sentence. He recounted a time when he was 4 when he woke up one morning before me and my husband. As kids do, he wandered into our room to wake me up so I could fix him some breakfast. He said as he was approaching the bed to call out to me, and he noticed me and my husband twitching spastically in our sleep.

Both of us. Obviously he was freaking out. So much so that he screamed, which is what woke us up. He told me that even after we bolted up in bed, having been startled by my son's scream, my arm was still noticeably twitching. You know how when you raise yourself up in bed and your elbow is slightly bent? I was in that position. And my arm kept twitching. Apparently my husband looked at my arm and said, ''What the hell?''

Now, I have no memory of this at all. I did ask my husband about it, and he confirmed hearing my son scream, and he remembered being woken up out of a dead sleep. He also remembers my arm twitching in his reaction. Something happened later that day that was equally as creepy, and I don't know if it's related, but I'm going to share it anyways if that's okay. So, later that day, I was sitting on the couch playing on my phone.

My son goes to the fridge to get a juice box. We lived in a small apartment, and the way it was set up was, when you first walk in, you're in the living room. The living room was connected to the kitchen, and me and my husband's bedroom was just beyond the kitchen. My point being, I had a clear view and was within hearing distance when my son looks over his shoulder towards my dark bedroom and says, ''Yeah, I'll be there in a minute.''

I'm a helicopter mom, no shame. So I always keep an eye on him at any given point. I immediately froze for a second. I promptly called him over and asked him who he was talking to. He looked at me and then back at the bedroom, then back at me with this confused look on his face. He then proceeds to tell me that he heard me holler his name and tell him to come into the bedroom. We were the only ones home.

That apartment was definitely haunted or something. Me and my husband have both seen a black hand with long, skinny fingers wrap around our bedroom doorframe while sitting on the couch one night. Just a side note for anyone who is curious, we do not live there anymore. My son hears his name being called all the time while he's at his dad's house. I've even heard it.

I went over to drop something off one day and his dad asked me if I would stay with our son so he could go to the store. So, dad leaves, and me and my son are playing in his room when we both heard his dad holler, ''Hey'' son's name. I said something like, ''Oh, I guess your dad didn't leave yet. Let's go see what he needs.'' We walk out to the front room, and no one is there. We look in the driveway. Only my car is there.

and no one else lived there at that time either. I know I sort of went off topic a little, but I felt it was relatable because my son hears his name being called all the time. I have some other creepy experiences that happened to me and my son that I will eventually get around to sending in. Thanks for keeping us entertained, Raven. Thank you for allowing me to do so by sending in your story."

Hey there, friends. I hope that you enjoyed this collection of scary stories on this episode of the As The Raven Dreams podcast.

If the platform you're on has the option to follow podcast and you enjoyed my work, please do consider doing so. Also, leaving ratings and reviews are super important for the algorithm to support the growth of the podcast. I'm just one guy doing this. I don't have a team. It's literally just me doing everything. So any support like that is greatly appreciated. Never expected, though. So if you go above and beyond with that, I do appreciate it.

Some platforms also allow you to leave comments, and if you feel inclined to do so, please do. I would appreciate that. I do have a Patreon and a merch store that you can also check out if you want to support a little further. The Patreon side of things gets you early access to all of my content. It is formatted differently as it goes in line with what my YouTube channel is, but it is the same stories, just different collections.

There is also a website, astheravendreams.com, where you can check out pretty much everything about me, my social media platforms, fiction stories I've written if you want to read those, as well as submitting your own stories, which there's a big button on the front page you click to do so. And those stories basically keep the podcast alive, to be honest with you. So, yeah.

All that said, friends, I do hope that I see you again here very soon. Until then, remember that you are loved, that you are valid, that you are important. You're the best you that you can be. Don't forget it. And until next time, much love and sleep well.