ATRD Ep. 153 - Creepy Kid and Creepy Neighbor Stories
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And as always, thank you. I wanted to share an experience I had when I lived in one of my first apartments in my twenties. It was a nice little complex, and for the most part, everyone around me either kept to themselves or were at least nice enough to have a passing conversation with you. All but one of those neighbors who I will refer to as Tom. Tom lived in the apartment directly below me.

He was an older gentleman, maybe in his late 60s, I'd guess. At first, he seemed to keep to himself. I would typically see him sitting out on his balcony, smoking and reading a book. We never really conversed, unless we were at the mailbox at the same time. And I mean, that was it. He was typically on that little balcony, but then things started getting weird, and we started running into each other more. Coincidence?

It began with him staring. I would come home from work, and he'd be sitting on his balcony that faced the main walkway. He would have his book on him, but as soon as he spotted me, he would put it down and watch me, his eyes following me all the way to the door. I brush it off as just an old man watching over the complex, maybe in a weird neighborhood watch kind of way. But then, as this continued to happen, it seemed more focused on me.

Like he was watching me specifically. I would watch the family enter as I pulled up, and he would glance at them for a moment and then go back to his book. But as soon as I stepped out of the car, his attention was on me. All the way. A few weeks into these occurrences, I started finding notes. There were post-its left on my door, slipped into my mailbox, or even under my door. They were never signed, so at first I had no idea who it was.

The first one on my door just mentioned something about having a good day. I assumed that someone was just trying to be nice, and I remember putting it on my fridge. But then the other notes became a bit more unsettling, in my opinion. Some would be making a comment on how I looked that day, suggestions on dinner after seeing my groceries, or there was even one that said I looked tired and that I needed to rest.

Those seemed to be a bit more targeted. They weren't threatening, but the fact that they made a comment about seeing the cans in my grocery bag or how I looked was definitely alarming. Now, I didn't at the time, nor have I ever gotten proof that it was Tom, but he was the only person I noticed that day when I brought home those canned tomatoes.

Whoever it was, it was like they were this constant judgmental observer of my life, and it almost had me paranoid. Then, the direct communication began with Tom. I had come home late from work one night, so no one was out. Tom wasn't even out on his balcony. I entered the complex, and as I headed up the stairs, I heard my name being whispered.

I stopped and looked around to see Tom, standing at his door with it slightly cracked open. Did he really just say my name? And how did he even know it? I hesitantly walked closer to the door. I was suspicious that he was leaving me the notes at this point. He held out his hand out of his door and said, "You dropped this," as he held out my white and red striped scarf. I hadn't even realized it was missing.

What an odd interaction.

But I took my scarf back inside, checked my hanger and realized it had to be mine as it was missing, but how? After that, I started to feel a bit more suspicious. I had no idea how he had my scarf, but what could I do? I just stopped delaying on my way to my apartment. I made sure I had everything as I left or came home and always locked my door and deadbolt behind me.

But then, one day when I came home and walked up the stairs, I saw Tom in front of my door looking down at his hands. I stopped at the top of the stairs and said, ''Can I help you?'' I could see his slight jump as I startled him and he slowly turned around, holding a key ring out to me with two keys on it. He held out the keys to me and again said, ''I found these. I think they're yours.'' I grabbed them and looked at them.

He said they were outside by my car, so he assumed they were mine. I again thanked him, probably looking at him suspicious, I'm sure. Once I heard his door close, I tried the keys that he gave me, and to my surprise, they worked on my door. Well, one of them did. The other one was smaller and kind of looked like a mailbox key. But here's the thing, I still had both of my keys.

I even compared the smaller mailbox key and it was a match. How the hell did he get a copy of my key? From then on, I kept a close eye on my stuff. And Tom. I kept my purse with my keys in my bedroom. I tried my best to keep track of any mail I got and, in fact, changed my address back to my parents' place until I felt comfortable with changing it back. I started getting some of my groceries delivered so I didn't have to leave.

It seems paranoid, but at the same time, he had to have gotten my scarf and copies of my keys somehow. Then, it all came to a head for me. They were going to be repaving the parking lot of my apartment complex, so I had to park further away, in an area that I wouldn't normally park. I was also not feeling well, so I took the day off, camping out on my couch with tea and Dayquil.

While sitting there, watching TV, I heard the familiar sound of keys jingling. Normally, I would assume it was someone leaving or entering their apartment, but then, my doorknob jiggled. It couldn't have been maintenance because they had to give 24 hours notice. Was someone really trying to break into my place? I jumped off the couch and went to my door and slowly looked through the peephole.

And to my horror, Tom was on the other side, looking down at the knob. He must have been trying to unlock the door. I just froze, not knowing what to do. Do I open the door and startle him? But I worried that he would hear me unlock the deadbolt and take off. But what would happen if he opened the door and saw me inside? After a few seconds, I heard the deadbolt unlatch.

I ran to my phone and called 911, and by the time I was speaking to the operator, Tom had opened the door. I immediately yelled at him, "What the hell are you doing, Tom?" and he just said that he was returning some mail that he got in his box. He slowly put it on the shelf next to the door as if it was a totally normal thing to do, to enter someone's apartment, and then backed up and left.

The operator was asking me what was happening and after he left, I ran back to the door locking it, like that was going to do something. I told the operator what happened and even unloaded on her about the notes, the keys, everything. I sat at the door until the police arrived and explained everything to them too.

They went to his apartment and they asked him about it and he admitted to having the keys and again just claimed that he found them. We even got the office involved and they confirmed that they still had their copies of my keys too. So how the hell did he get them? The office told the police that the ones Tom had and the ones he gave to me had to be copies because they only had the two pairs and they were changed after someone moved out.

I was able to file a restraining order on him, and thankfully, the office also agreed to let me move to another complex. It was a pain, but at least I was away from Tom. It actually came out that this wasn't the first time Tom had done something like this to other young women. Looking at his public record, after getting his last name and info from the restraining order, he had multiple reports for stalking and harassment.

I was angry that he even lived in the complex at all, but I didn't know what all the rental offices could see or use. At least they were willing to let me move, and they did take it seriously. That was probably one of the creepiest things to ever happen to me. I don't live there now, but I really do worry about others that have to live near him. I don't know if he ended up leaving or getting kicked out, but...

Hopefully, they were at least smart enough to not put another female in that complex. Because what if I didn't call the cops? What if I had been asleep inside? I don't even want to think about what could have happened, and I'm just thankful I was able to catch him in the act and do something about it. Hey Raven, I had a story that I wanted to share from my babysitting days.

I'd been babysitting since I was 12, but it started out with just my siblings. When I hit 15, I started babysitting for other people and, at the time, was making decent money for it too. Being the oldest kid of five, I was pretty used to kids and all the shenanigans they would get into, so it rarely bothered me. There was this one family that I started babysitting quite regularly.

One Saturday a month, sometimes twice. Their parents had some sort of tournament on those days, and from their words, it was pretty boring, so they didn't want to take their kiddos with them. And since their mom knew my mom, she asked to have me watch them. They paid me 50 bucks, so I certainly wasn't complaining either. So I started watching them sometime after I turned 16, all the way up until I turned 18.

They had two kids, Taylor, who was a high-energy and creative eight-year-old boy, and Beth, who was the exact opposite, quiet and shy. Both of them were very fun and sweet kids, and I always had a blast watching them. On this specific Saturday, my friend Monica was going to be staying the night with me, and I had completely forgotten about having to watch them. I asked if she could tag along, and they agreed.

Monica and I were very much alike. We both babysat and had the same personality, so there was really no concern about it either. Now we got to hang out and make some money for half the work before going back to my place for the night. I was used to these nights being longer with their parents not getting back until 10 or 11, which really wasn't a problem for us. The kids were usually zonked by 9, so I usually got an hour or so to myself.

which meant an hour for Monica and I to do whatever until they got home. Their mom, Sandy, usually had dinner prepared by the time I got there, and the kids were just sitting down to eat. Sometimes she meal prepped ahead, and we just had to heat it up, or occasionally she would have pizza delivered. When Monica and I got there, the kids were already in the kitchen finishing up their dinner. I was talking to Sandy and introducing her to Monica.

She let me know of a few new things going on in their home, such as to let the dogs out in the front yard because the back slider needed to be fixed. Just little reminders like that. After the rundown and telling the kids bye, they were out the door and we were left with the kids. We made ourselves a small plate for dinner and ate with them, talking about how they've been and what they wanted to do for the night.

As expected, Taylor opened up to Monica immediately and gave us a play-by-play of his day, while Beth was a little quieter, but also being talkative. She seemed to really like Monica when she complimented her rabbit hair clips. Once we all finished eating, I washed the dishes while Monica took them to the living room to watch some TV for a bit. Afterwards, we would go back and forth between playing a board game and TV, depending on how distracted the kids were.

or if their notorious satellite dish went out. Sometimes it would just cut to a blue screen or static, and we had to wait for it to come back. Those were the times they seemed to really rely on me for the entertainment. We finally got through our game of apples to apples, and they said that they wanted to watch a movie.

After a little disagreement between the kids, we decided to watch whatever movie was currently playing first, because it was on some TV channel, and then we could watch the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles disc that they had. I think they found an old season of the show somewhere, and Taylor was obsessed with it. Taylor found himself sprawled out on the recliner, Beth was sitting on the floor with her blanket and stuffed animal, and Monica and I were on the couch.

It was always funny to me because Taylor could practically quote all the movies they had while Beth liked to quietly sing along to any of the musical parts. It kept them fairly distracted while the two of us just talked through the night. I guess that it had been a long day because Taylor ended up falling asleep about an hour into the movie. Beth was still awake, her hands holding up her chin as she watched the show intently.

We were still content with what we were doing, and in fact, were pretty well distracted to the point that we didn't notice the signal starting to go out on the TV. Sometimes it starts as just freezing and jumping forward in the show. Then we might get the blue screen, but it didn't click in my head until I heard Beth's familiar little voice. She was singing quietly, but when we looked over at her, the screen was blank. Just the floating little no-signal box.

But Beth's singing was not what I was used to hearing. It was usually full of life, and even silly sounding, this was low. Like she didn't want anyone to hear and almost monotone. The shadows watch, they always do. Monica and I just looked at each other, confirming that we both heard that right.

After confirming that I wasn't crazy, I looked back at the still blank screen and Beth, still staring at it, like she was watching something. I tried to get her attention by saying her name or asking her what she said, but she didn't respond. She didn't even react like she heard me. I grabbed the remote to turn off the TV, and as weird as it may have seemed, there was nothing on. So why would it have done anything?

But for some reason, it did. She looked back at us and asked why we turned it off, saying that she was still watching it, her voice back to the normal, bright, and childlike way that I was used to. I asked her what she was singing, and she looked at me confused. She claimed that she was never singing, that she was watching her show and asked me to turn it back on. I stared at her for a few moments and then slowly turned the TV back on.

To our relief, it had come back on and appeared to be playing normally. She smiled and thanked me and then turned back around, fixating on the show again. Monica and I just looked at each other confused for a moment and then would glance back at Beth. Part of me hoped that she would do it again, but then I was also thankful the rest of the night went on as normal as it could be, with Beth being completely oblivious to how much she had just freaked us out.

After another hour or so, we got both of them to their bedrooms, giving us free reign of the living room. That's when we started talking about Beth again. We both heard her say that, but we had no idea where it came from. She'd been watching, like, some animated Barbie show. It certainly wasn't something that that would have been in. We even debated on if we should tell Sandy, but decided against it. What would we even say?

"Hey, your daughter said something creepy while staring at a blank TV" and then she denied it. I don't know if I would have believed it myself. So, we finished our night and when their parents came home, I told them they were great and that everything was fine. I continued to babysit them for some time but that never happened again. I would even randomly bring it up to Beth and she always gave me a weird look like I was crazy. But I wasn't alone that night.

Monica was there, and she heard it too. So, whatever it was that night, whether Beth just heard that somewhere and wanted to sing it, or if something was trying to communicate to her through the TV, it succeeded in sufficiently creeping me out that night.

Howdy Raven, and thanks again for this channel. Funny how this stuff can make some people feel uneasy where it makes me feel more normal. So, great to have a place to share our experiences. These stories also make my workday more enjoyable. Thank you. I wanted to share a compilation of small experiences that happened in a house we used to live in. Although they aren't terrifying, they still make you go, hmmm.

The first experience was my oldest daughter's experience who was around 10 at the time. She needed me to put some polystyrene cream on a boo-boo at bedtime, so I brought the box in. I keep things in the box if they are greasy and took the tube out, squeezed some on her cut and put the cap back on, put it in the box and took it with me to the bathroom to put it away in the drawer.

A couple of minutes later, my daughter calls me in to tell me that she had just heard a bang on her floor, and when she looked, the polysporin box was on the floor in the middle of her room. Empty at that. How did that happen? And how was it so loud when the box was empty as well? Weird, right? The next experience was one my younger daughter, around 8 years old, had not too long after. Maybe within the next week.

So my oldest daughter and I were in my bedroom trying on high heels, like many young gals enjoy doing with mom's shoes, when my youngest comes in and very quietly sits on the bed and doesn't say anything. So we say hi and ask what's up. You see, this kid is normally loud and comes booming into most rooms and just blurts stuff out. She seemed off that day, though.

When she started to talk, she showed me the two toys in her hand and said that they started moving on their own while she was playing in her room. Being the silly billy that she is, liking to play tricks on people, I pressed a little more for details. I'm a total believer, but just wanted to hear her out and watch her reactions.

So she took me in her room, and she showed me how the car started flashing on its own, and driving back and forth on her shelf, and that the keychain basketball was spinning around in circles. She swore that it was true, but I still needed more proof, so I told her that it could be a child spirit just checking her toys out because they are neat, hoping to soothe her a little. She then began to cry, worried that the spirit might break her toys,

and then she refused to sleep in her room. The reactions were very real, and I believed her at this point. To this day, she swears that it really happened. The next one happened to me probably a year later. The kids were playing in the backyard with their stuffed animals and dolls, and had gone in for a break, so left their carefully placed animals set up for whenever they returned.

The only stuffed animal that was out of place a little was a stuffed dog that was laying down on its side at the altar, waiting for his bride to arrive. The whole setup, with flowers and all, was very cute. I didn't bother standing the dog up, but did notice that it was laying down while everything else was carefully placed. So I go in the house with them and begin to do some housework, but as I passed the door to go outside into the backyard...

I noticed that the dog was now standing up. It was one of those things that catches the corner of your eyes, and then you need to do a double take. I knew that that dog had been laying down. I took note of it. So me being me, I had to go and explore. And did I ever feel the energy from something else standing right there, or had been there right before me? I'm one of those weirdos. A cool one, of course. That can feel and see energy.

It was very apparent that someone of very high vibration had been there. I'm close with the celestial realm, so maybe. And I just had a weird happening two nights ago as well, but at my current house. It's a 165-year-old farmhouse with a barn, so I'm sure there are lots of energies around here. I was outside talking on the phone at night around 9 p.m.,

As I was going to get into my tent, yes, I love nature so much that I sleep outdoors as long as it's possible, I started to see a whitish figure or shape that looked misty and glassy, and it started moving towards me. So I told my friend and went into the tent, but could totally feel someone there as I zipped it up. Such a creepy feeling. It was in there with me for a bit, and then I had to leave.

It's not the first time I've crossed paths with entities in this house, and I'm sure it's not the last. It does make for some interesting experiences, though, that's for sure. Hey Raven, I heard you were looking for creepy neighbor stories, and trust me, I've got one. This happened when I was about 22 or 23, after my partner and I moved into our first apartment together.

We were so excited. It was our first place, our own little home, and we were ready to start this new chapter in our lives. But soon enough, the excitement faded because of him, our neighbor. He was old, probably in his 70s, with these piercing blue eyes that just stared. And he was always there.

At first, it seemed innocent. Like maybe he was just a lonely old man, but that feeling changed quickly. One day, I was outside hanging up my washing, bras and g-string, thongs I think you guys call them, and there he was again. This time, though, it wasn't just his usual stare. He had this smirk, like he was enjoying the sight. I tried to ignore him, but he said...

Nice weather for a delicates. It wasn't the words, it was how he said it. It felt dirty. He licked his lips and walked off moaning. Yes, that kind of moan. From that moment, I stopped hanging my underwear outside. I couldn't bring myself to do it again. I didn't want to give him another reason to look at me like that. But that didn't stop him.

I would go out to check the mail, and there he would be, just standing there, too close for comfort. One time, as I grabbed the letters from the mailbox, he muttered something under his breath, smirking again. He asked me to pick up his mail that he had dropped, on purpose, I'm sure, just to watch me bend over. Then, as I handed him his mail, he said, ''I can see you from my window, you know.'' It was like he wanted me to know that he was watching.

even when I thought I was alone. After that, it wasn't just a coincidence. He knew my routine. He would appear when I was heading to the car, and once, as I rushed past, he said, "'Off somewhere? Hope you're coming back.'" The way he said it made my skin crawl, like he wasn't sure if I would come back, or he had done something to my car.

At night, I started hearing noises, footsteps outside my door. They were slow, deliberate, as if someone was right on the other side, just waiting. I checked the peephole, but no one would be there. And then the next morning, I would see him again, lingering near my door. One time, he looked at me and said, ''Sometimes I think about visiting you. It gets lonely, you know?''

My heart raced. What did he mean by that? Was he the one at my door at night? I started avoiding him, changing my routine and making sure that we wouldn't cross paths. But somehow he was always there, waiting. It got to the point where I couldn't even relax in my own apartment. Every creak, every sound made me wonder if he had somehow gotten inside.

Sometimes, I would come home and swear the door that I had locked was slightly ajar. Was I imagining it? Or had he been in there? I told my partner, but he didn't seem to get it. To him, he was just a weird old man. But to me, he was more than that. He was everywhere, always watching me. And one day, I came home late, and as I walked past his window, I saw him standing there staring out at me with that same smirk on his face.

It felt like a warning, like he knew I couldn't escape his eyes no matter what I did. We moved out after that, as I just didn't want to stay there any longer as I didn't feel safe. Even now, I can't shake that feeling that he was planning something, that he wanted to do something more than just watch. I never found out for sure, but sometimes, I still wonder, was I safe?

Or did I narrowly avoid something much, much worse? I've been working in retail and grocery stores for quite some time. At the time of this story, I was working in the produce and deli department at a pretty popular grocery store based in the Midwest. The job was fine, and I really didn't get much interaction with customers outside the normal "hey, good morning" type thing.

It was typically in passing, or while I was stalking something that they may have been browsing too. I also preferred working the mornings because it was less chaotic. But there was one day I worked where I had the most interaction I have ever had with a customer. And the best part is that, at only four feet or so, they creeped me out the most.

It was pretty early in the morning, and I had been stocking and checking the produce. Depending on the day, we may check them throughout and add more where needed, but the main refill and checks I did in the morning. It was a Wednesday because we had just got our truck the day prior, so we had a lot of fresh stuff, including our fruits. I had filled out the apple display and their neat pyramid-like display and had moved over to the bananas.

If you've ever worked in any type of grocery store, you know the bananas go fast. So, I overstock those. After finishing both of those, I took my 15 minute break, and that's where it all began as I headed back with my cart. There in the front, by my well-organized apples, now stood a young girl who couldn't have been more than 9 or 10, holding two of the apples. She was wearing what looked like a school uniform,

She had a dark blue collared shirt on and a matching blue plaid skirt. I thought that it was odd because, based on the time, school would have already been in session, so she would have been late. But I thought maybe she had an appointment or something. Maybe her parents had to stop here first and then she would be going to school. I thought nothing of it after that, and I went back to my work.

I started organizing and stalking, but I heard someone sighing and mumbling. I looked back a few times and saw that it was coming from the same little girl, who now had an arm full of apples. I thought it was odd, but I wasn't going to get into it with a kid, so I just let it go, and thought to myself that I would fix it after she was gone. I went back to what I was working on when I reminded myself of the kid and turned to look again.

This time, she'd been working on two separate piles of apples. There was the main stack of them, and she cleared out the two bottom corners, and had started putting apples into each. But one corner had two apples, while the other had a large mound of them. I didn't want to see her completely undo all of my work, and since no adult had approached her yet, I decided I would figure out what was going on.

I approached her with a smile. Being an older male, I didn't want to startle her. I stayed on the other side of the apples and said, ''Good morning.'' She looked up at me emotionless and then went right back to the apples. She would pick one up, hold it in both hands, and close her eyes. When she opened them, she would sigh again and toss the apple on the larger stack. I asked her if she was lost and where her parents were, but she didn't even acknowledge me.

I was about to say something else when she finally spoke up. She asked if I worked there, and I confirmed, and then she looked back down at the apple in her hands and said, "'They're all wrong.' I asked her what she meant. They were a specific type of apple for that season. There was no way that they were wrong, so she tried to clarify, if that's what you want to call it. "'They're rotting from the inside. Can't you smell it?'

I halfway laughed because it sounded silly, but when I did, she looked up at me offended. I apologized and assured her that they were all good because they were all brand new. I then tried asking about her parents again, and she stopped me. She said that her mom had sent her to get apples for her and her brother's lunch, but that they had to be perfect. The last ones were wrong, and Thomas got sick. I will not let it happen again.

Something about the way she said that made my hair stand up. What did she mean by they made him sick? I tried to confirm that he had an apple that made him sick, but she wouldn't answer, and instead berated me with more questions. She held the apple in both hands again, eyes closed, and asked if I had checked every one. I tried explaining to this child how we inspect our produce, and she said I was a liar.

She held up an apple again and said that they were all rotting. And if you don't check them, you won't see what's growing in there. I know I gave her a confused look, but she didn't help the matter. She held the apple up to my face. "Things grow in the dark. Bad things. They wait until you bite down." Thomas didn't believe me either until he bit down. He should have seen his face. What the hell was this kid going on about?

She sounded like a full grown woman complaining to me about the lack of choices in apples. Why was I being berated by a child and what made her think these apples were rotting from the inside? I tried to ask her to explain, staying calm so I could just get a better understanding but then she went on about things growing in the dark while you slept. She used mushrooms as an example.

saying that they grow in your lungs while you're sleeping and that was why her dad was still in the hospital. And like an older woman saying I told you so, she said, they didn't listen when I said the mushrooms were wrong. I was sufficiently creeped out and confused. Rotting from the inside? Mushrooms growing in your lungs? None of it made sense. I thanked her for letting me know and told her I would tell my manager and motioned that I would be right back.

I walked away, looking back a few times to see her still sorting all the apples. I went to the back and got my manager and told him about what had just happened. He thought it was amusing, but I asked him to just come out and listen to this kid, and hopefully we could find her parents. But as I walked him to the apple display, the girl was gone. The two apples that had been separated were gone, but the pile of apples in the other corner still remained.

I explained again to my manager that the kid claimed these apples were bad. He told me the same thing that I had said, that they just came in on the truck, and then asked me to put them back as they were and we would just move on. I agreed and started putting them back, but something was nagging at me. Why was this kid so adamant that these apples were bad?

I tried holding them, seeing if maybe they had a soft spot. I even looked like a weirdo and tried smelling them like she said, but I couldn't smell anything. So I did something that I hoped I wouldn't regret. I took my box cutter that I had on me and cut into one of the apples. All over the inside, it was riddled with holes. Brown, rotting holes. What the hell?

I grabbed two, three more, and I cut all of them open. All of them seemed to be rotting in some way on the inside, but the outside looked entirely fine. I put all of the apples that she separated into one of the boxes that I had as well as the ones I cut open. I took them back to my manager again and showed him the ones I cut open. Whatever, I'll pay for them if I have to. He looked speechless and probably annoyed that I proved him wrong.

We ended up taking that whole display of apples down. We cut the rest of the apples the kid picked out, and every single one of them was bad. How the hell would she have known? I don't know the details of it, since that's over both myself and my manager, but I do know that we basically had to return them to our supplier and explain to them what happened. I believe they told them we just had several customers return them for being bad, though.

We didn't have an issue like that since, or at least no one complained, and I never saw that kid again. I'm still at a loss as to how she knew, and it kind of creeps me out. She was so adamant about it, like it was completely normal. Now, I can't even look at apples the same way, and if I ever get a craving for them, I just go with the pre-cut ones. Don't even ask me about the mushrooms."

After nearly choking on one in my alfredo, I couldn't help thinking about her comment of them growing in your lungs, and now I'm honestly just terrified of them. So, I guess, thanks, kid, for a new unfound fear of produce. I can never look at apples or mushrooms the same way again. In my third year of college, I decided I wanted to get my own place to live instead of staying in the dorms.

I wanted my own space. I wanted to know that my stuff was safe and that no one was going to take it or borrow any of it, like what tended to happen in the dorms. I had also had a decent paying job and saved up enough to afford all the fees and deposits first. I was just ready to be out on my own. Now, I have seen videos such as yours and even a show dedicated to crazy neighbors,

but it's something you just don't think about until it actually happens to you. And even then, you may not see it until someone else points it out. But I had some neighbors that, even without speaking, they let their creep vibes show full-time. I found a nice community that had townhomes within my price range, and I was approved and moved in pretty quickly. I don't know if they're the same everywhere, so I'll just explain the outline of ours.

Their townhomes were connected in a square shape with one open side. They had about six of these, I believe, because they were back-to-back. My place was in the center row, second from the left, so I had one neighbor to my left, they were the corner unit, and one to my right. For the first couple of weeks, everything went as normal.

There were a few nearby neighbors that waved at me. I almost ran into my neighbor on the right, which is how I met them. It was two sisters living together with no kids and two very large dogs. Very nice people. But my neighbors to the left? I had yet to see any of them for about the month or so that I lived there. As I was coming home from classes, I happened to look up to see a young boy in front of their bay window.

I love kids, and since I hadn't met them yet, I smiled and waved, but he just continued to stare at me, unmoving, and with no expression on his face. It was kind of odd, but I just shrugged it off as a kid thing. Maybe he was shy and didn't want to wave. Not a big deal. So I went about my business. But then I went to leave for work that evening, and as I got in my car and went to start it...

I spotted not only the boy, but what looked like an older kid. The boy looked maybe 6 or 7, and the girl stood taller and was maybe 11 or 12. Now they were both staring at me, emotionless. I smiled and waved again, but I got the same results. Nothing. Okay, so maybe both kids were shy, but it got even weirder.

For a few days, I would see just those two kids staring out the window, following me as I walked to my door and when I left. It was definitely strange being watched almost daily, but it wasn't like it was hurting me, so I never said or did anything about it. I was curious because I would be home in the afternoons, sometimes, or on my day off, and they would still be there. Did they not go to school?

Maybe they were homeschooled. I had no idea. Then there was a day that I came home from work and had been talking to my mom on the phone. I was sitting in my car as I finished my conversation, and I watched as two more people approached the window. This time it looked like a middle-aged woman and an even older woman. If I had to guess, it looked like a whole family generation there. Grandma, mother, and the kids.

But what caught my attention was that they approached the kids, looked down at them, and then looked out the window directly at me. So now I had four of them staring at me. What the heck? Since I was on the phone already, I told my mom about what I was witnessing, and at first my mom chuckled and said that maybe they were just really nosy people and watched others.

She even said that I should bring them something and introduce myself and see if that helps. And I laughed at the idea because it sounded so old school. But I knew she was probably right. I ran into my other neighbors and they brought me cookies so it wasn't too far off. I thought the idea over and what exactly I could do trying to be considerate to allergies or whatever too.

I'd been pretty busy between work and school lately, so I hadn't gotten around to following through with those plans, but their staring never missed a beat. Anytime I was outside, they were at the window. Sometimes it was just the kids. Most of the time, it was all four of them. Then it just kept escalating. I decided to take a walk after I got home from my classes, and as I left, the four of them were in the window.

I smiled and waved and got the same response, which was nothing. So I began my walk. But when I circled back around and was walking down the sidewalk leading to my place, I looked up, feeling eyes on me. Now, the complete family was there. The kids, the mom, the grandma, and now what appeared to be the dad and grandpa. The adults were all in black, and the kids seemed to be wearing matching red outfits.

They had the same deep red looking shirts with black ruffled collars. Why was the whole family now staring at me? And it was all the same. Emotionless, unwavering stares. It was kind of creepy. Now with everyone present, I waved again, standing right outside their window. They didn't move. They just looked like unsettling dressed up statues. After going inside, I really tried to rationalize it.

Maybe they were just nosy people. Based on how they were dressed and how the kids didn't appear to go to school, I thought maybe it was a religious thing even. And I felt bad, thinking I was being very judgmental. So I made a mental note that I should really try to introduce myself. Maybe at the very least, they will realize that I noticed them doing this and stop. But another few days passed, and I came home in a bit of a mood.

All six of them slowly made their way to the window and watched me walk into my home. I had just gotten back from the store where I bought some cinnamon rolls, so after I baked them, I wrapped them up on a platter and went next door. As I walked over, I noticed one of the kids still sitting at the window, but as I walked up their steps and got closer to look at him, I noticed how his face was really red and puffy, like he had been crying.

Why was he crying? I waved and pointed to the platter, but again, I got nothing out of him. So I just knocked on the door. No response. I stepped back and saw that both kids were now there and Grandma and all three of them looked like they were crying. What the heck was going on? I knocked again and then shouted towards the window that I brought them something, but they just stared. Then everyone else slowly walked to the window and stared.

Now all six of them were back, in their same creepy outfits, staring at me. Unmoving, emotionless. No one flinched at the doorbell or the knocking. No one answered. Why? Why did they just continue to stare at me? I looked around to see if anyone was watching, and I went down and around the stairs and towards the window.

The houses were a little raised, so as I got closer, the bottom of the window was at chest level for me. The moment the kids looked down at me, something in me told me that this wasn't right. It was like this overwhelming sensation telling me to get the hell out of there. I sat the cinnamon rolls down on the steps and took off back inside my place.

Not that I expected them to come stare at me, but I closed up my curtain and locked my door. What the hell was up with these people? And why did it seem like they only ever stared at me? I tried to get my mind off of it, but it was difficult. I had too many questions. And what, if anything, could I even do about it? Nothing. They literally just stared at me.

They weren't at my window. They were in their own place. And what would I even say? Hey, have you noticed the weird family that likes to stare in 905? I really didn't know anyone well enough to strike up an unusual conversation like that. I knew the girls next door, but we've only ever talked in passing. So I was just stuck with this. Every day. Every single time I left the house, they were watching me.

They watched me walk, they watched me come and go, and the plate of cinnamon rolls I left? Well, it sat there for three days, untouched, before I finally grabbed them and threw them away. I wasted my money, but did they not even leave in those three days? What did they do for a living? Did any one of them work? It was such a bizarre thing to witness. And getting up close and seeing the kids' red puffy eyes that just stared into my soul...

I could never forget. I tried watching on days that I was off. Early in the morning, late at night, and I never saw anyone leave or anyone enter. No deliveries, nothing. We could pay rent online, so I guess they could do that too, but how did they get food? Toiletries. I eventually just had to drop it and accept that I just had these really creepy neighbors that I could do nothing about.

For a year, I dealt with this, and even when I had people over, they witnessed it. But when my lease came up for renewal, I begged to move to a different townhome, asking for one with a fireplace. The fireplace ones are only on the end of the strips of homes, so I wouldn't be anywhere near them. Thankfully, they obliged, and I got to move and never to be stared at again.

Sometimes I would drive by to see if they were still there, and every once in a while, I would still see someone staring out that window. Your request for creepy neighbor stories prompted me to remember this. This took place probably about two decades ago.

I grew up in the country and we did not have any neighbors within a few miles of us my entire childhood. When I was a teenager, a man named Mr. Bogner moved about a quarter mile away. He retired and moved down from several states up north to my home state. He had a double-wide put on a piece of land near the river. He lived alone and we did not see him much."

At some point, my dad met and introduced himself, but he mostly stayed to himself. He didn't seem to have any family or visitors. Occasionally, myself or my siblings would go on walks about a half mile to the river and back home. One summer evening, my sister and her friend, who were about 13, went for a walk. As they walked past his driveway, they noticed his mailbox was open.

They walked over towards it to close it and saw that it was packed. One of them looked at a piece of mail and saw that it was post-dated weeks old. They decided to go back home instead of continuing to the river. My dad went over to the home of Mr. Bogner and knocked, but Mr. Bogner didn't come to the door. He decided to request a welfare check.

Later that evening, an officer called my dad to report that Mr. Bogner had passed away several weeks prior, based on his condition in the bathroom. My dad told me that buzzards had been flying around the home recently too, when he thought back. For some reason, it wasn't realized why until that moment. They were there because of poor Mr. Bogner. Buzzards were common due to it being a heavy deer population area,

and they were often hunted or hit by cars. Weeks later, my dad found out a few things. The first thing was that it was very common for Mr. Bogner not to check his mail, so it didn't raise any big concerns when the mail carrier continued piling mail in his already full mailbox. Another thing was that Mr. Bogner did not have any living blood relatives to be concerned of his missing.

He had a stepson who passed away, and the stepson's wife ended up taking possession of his things and having to make arrangements for him. The third thing my dad found out was the condition of his home. Apparently, he was a bit of a trash hoarder. There were dozens and dozens of empty cardboard food containers, pizza boxes, and TV dinner trays.

The story is very tragic, and I felt sad that he had no one looking for him when I found that out. They were not able to do a normal autopsy due to how long he had been left, but they assumed it was a medical emergency, such as a heart attack. I just hope that he went quickly, and that he didn't suffer by himself. Hello Raven, I'm a big fan of you and love your podcast.

I have severe insomnia, so at night I listen to your stories to help me sleep. Thank you. At the time of this story, I was three years old, so some details might be a little off. I lived in the ghetto of an already sketchy town that I lived in. I lived in a townhome that was tiny and the walls were paper thin. Keep this in mind, as it is important later. I was in preschool, but had stayed home that day as I was sick.

so it was only myself and my mom. There was a drug dealer that lived across the street from me, so the police got suspicious of this man and decided to go ask questions. The cops knocked on the door of that man's house, and immediately the drug dealer ran out the door with a gun. So the cop also got his gun. If they fired off, my house or the neighbor, who we'll call Z, would have gotten hit.

Of course, being the stupid three-year-old that I was, I had ran to the window to see what was happening. My mom ran and had to hold me to the floor to guarantee that I wouldn't get shot. My mom called Z to let her know of the dangers. Through the paper-thin walls, I heard Z yell to someone, ''Get down!'' So the cop and the dealer were holding their guns right at each other.

but then the dealer ran in his house and stayed there firing his gun into the house to try to make them think that he had shot himself. Of course, this made the cop call for backup. I distinctly recall seeing 11 police cars show up and a SWAT team. They were yelling through the door for him to open it. No answer. This continued for about 5 minutes. Still no answer, so the SWAT team did their movie scene.

The battering ram shook the whole neighborhood. Their raid lasted for 20 minutes as the SWAT and dealers played the game of hide-and-seek. Finally, they got him, and they were pointing the big guns at him as they shoved him into the police car. I'm glad that no shots were fired in this duel, and I know this probably wasn't too scary, but it is the scariest thing to happen to me. Thanks again, Raven. Lots of love.

Hey Raven. This is a short-ish story about something that happened to me and my girlfriend a few weeks back. More my girlfriend, though. I'm not the best storyteller, and this isn't comparable to some scary situations, but it stuck with me. I'm 21, from the UK, and I live in a, well, sort of nice-ish area.

with kids who run about wearing balaclavas and thinking they're Pablo Escobar, doing god knows what to piss people off. I can't judge, as I wasn't the best kid, and was always up to mischief, but not like the kids these days. So, my story starts as me and my girlfriend were just chilling at home, and we decided, hey, we haven't seen our friends in a little while.

Why don't we both go see them now, as they were asking, so we agreed. And I left with her, and she got in the car to pick up her friend. I walked around the corner to see my friend also. Less than a two minute walk. So I arrive at my friend's house, we catch up. About 15 minutes goes by, and my friend asks me if I wanted to smoke with him. I say yeah, and he gets to it.

My phone died as he did this, but I thought, it's okay, I'll just charge it in a second. Soon as this happens, my girlfriend, who is halfway through pregnancy, calls my friend through Instagram. He answers it, and instantly I'm hit with static, like glitching audio, and all I hear is, Help, come quick, lad's in the park with knives. My heart sank, as she is pregnant with our soon-to-be daughter. I panicked, and I didn't know what to do.

But in an instant, I just grabbed the biggest kitchen knife out of his drawer and put it down my pants. And I know what you're thinking. Soon-to-be-dad smoking and carrying knives. Let's not go there. I'm a very nice person who likes to unwind from time to time. Nothing crazy and no partying or drinking, just a chill sesh in a secure, safe environment.

Anyways, as I'm running to the park, which is about five minutes away from where I am, I notice my girl's car parked outside of our house. She had left and drove home, so I met her at the window with her friends in the car, and they all looked shaken up and white like ghosts. I asked what's going on, and they told me that there were a few lads waiting behind her car for around ten minutes, while her friend was getting ready to come down and meet them.

She said the lads were acting shady and that they were only a few meters away. They kept looking and pointing towards the car. She locked the door and waited for her friend. They then went to her driver's side and banged on the window, saying, ''Hey, can you help me?'' To which she responded, ''What's going on?'' ''There was a man in the park with a machete, and he held us up and asked where we were from and what we had on us.''

Weird, right?

So, as I've been told the situation as I'm at the car window, I see two lads walk around the corner towards the car, and both of them had balaclavas on in black. Her friend says from the back seat, ''That's them!'' I took my hood down, showed my face, and shouted ''Yo!'' at the lads. They came to an immediate stop and put their hands up for some reason.

I got angry and went in on them, telling them to basically F off from around the area, and told them that my girl was pregnant, and that they had scared her. I then shouted out, You F'ing about with knives, eh? And, as I said that, I showed the handle of the knife that I had tucked into my waist. They immediately fled and started running from me. Now, all the girls are a bit shaken up, and I'm getting called an idiot for doing what I did, but was thanked.

but I didn't have to do what I did. I agreed. We dropped her friends back off, and we were circling around the area to get to the two different houses of her friends. We saw the two same lads walking about, and they were ducking behind cars, probably thinking we were looking for them. They saw us drop off one of her friends at her house, and then they knocked on her friend's door.

They told her that they didn't want any issues with me, and for nothing to happen to them, and that it was all just a big prank. I mean, come on. Doing that sort of stuff when you know it's a car full of girls? That's not funny. And I knew deep down it was bigger than that. What if she didn't ring me to come? Why didn't they want me there? Why did they want them to come help them with something if it was just a prank? What was the motive?

What would have happened to them if they had gotten out, and what if they actually had the knives? I mean, they had the balaclavas, after all. I'm glad that I did what I did, and glad that my girl and her friends are okay, because they could have been trying to rob them, or even worse, actually just hurting one of them, including my unborn daughter. Thank you, Raven. I love your work and listen to your stories at work all day long, eight hours a day."

Sorry this ended up being long and not that interesting, but it stuck with me. And it's all about the what-ifs. What if they hurt my girl and my daughter was harmed? I couldn't have lived with myself if I didn't react as quick as possible. And I'm glad that my girl knew better than to leave the car. When I was a kid, maybe eight, my next-door neighbor, who we'll call Abby for privacy reasons, was about six or seven.

We would spend hours on the weekends and summers playing in her front yard. Abby was allowed to watch horror and crime movies, and I was not. She had watched The Lovely Bones and gave me a childlike synopsis of it. We would play pretend and act like there were bodies buried from serial killers, kidnappers, and overall bad people. One day I got this idea in my head that the other neighbor beside us was a creep.

So I told Abby this, and she agreed with me. We would spend countless hours playing true crime pretend, until one day in early November, me and Abby were outside spending time on her front porch, when someone called Abby's name. We looked over the fence, and there was the man who lived beside us. He was holding two bags of candy and Ziploc bags.

He went on to tell us that he noticed we didn't stop for candy on Halloween, so he wanted to give us some. I'd been told my whole life not to take things from strangers, so I didn't. But Abby, on the other hand, went to the fence and grabbed the candy. She came back and popped a piece into her mouth. Me, being the paranoid kid that I was, went inside and told her grandma.

Abby's grandma told us that we were okay, told Abby not to take candy from strangers, and she threw away the candy. Then we didn't hear another word about it. Fast forward 15 years later, the other day I told my mom about this story and she looked at me wide-eyed. No one had told her this story, which is a red flag.

But anyways, apparently when we first moved into the house, Abby's grandmother was very, very adamant that the neighbor was a creep, and that we needed to stay away from him at all times. So, that's the story of how I, a sheltered kid, made up this imaginary theory about a neighbor that turned out to have some actual merit.

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.