My next door neighbours are kind of old, and since they’re retired, run a sort of mega babysitting company thing to keep busy. A bunch of people in the neighborhood drop their kids at the NDNs. These people don’t have much control over these children. And we don’t have a fence separating our backyards.
So one night, these people are holding a slumber party of sorts. Right next door. I can’t fucking sleep because of the screaming shits next door, so I get up and go to the bathroom. I look out the bathroom window… and a crap ton of little kids are standing in my backyard, very still, staring at the stars or some shit like that. I probably should have connected the dots from there, but in the moment, I was freaking the fuck out. The next day, I found little handprints on most of my downstairs windows.
I had just got a job as a nanny looking after 2 kids for a family. I worked, the same hours every week, one the shifts being from 3pm until around 10 on Friday nights. Across the road from the families home was a construction site which I walked past everyday. The builders would wave and say hello to me in the mornings and evenings, but one took a particular interest in me. He was at least 20 years older than me and often said comments that would make me feel uncomfortable. Every morning on my way to work he would yell out “compliments” to me and in the evenings he would offer me a lift home in his van. I always declined. Although I felt uncomfortable, I never really felt unsafe until one day he approached me on the street. When I turned to walk away after he said something particularly vulgar he grabbed my arm harshly and said “don’t you dare walk away from me”. From then on I was a little more wary of him.
The house that the family live in is a two storey home with all the bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs and the living area and kitchen downstairs. The downstairs area is surrounded by floor to ceiling glass windows.
So one night after the kids were in bed I was upstairs. Now, I admit I was having a bit of a snoop in the parents room so I was listening carefully for any signs of them arriving home, as they were due back early tonight. While upstairs I heard a noise, which sounded like the gate. I peeked out a window that over looked the front yard, just in time to see a black sports bag be thrown over the high fence. After the sports bag came a bat and then a man. It took me a couple of seconds to register what was happening, until I realised that the man was the builder. I completely froze. I watched him walk across the yard and down the side of the house and then the lights cut out. I had no idea what to do. My phone was downstairs and due to all the windows there was no way I could go get it without being seen. The only way out of the house was downstairs. I could hear him walking around the house and rattling windows and trying door handles. I was trying to figure what to do when I heard a car come down the driveway. The parents had arrived home. I hid upstairs with the baby until I heard them come inside and call my name. I ran downstairs hysterically and the police were called. The guy was never found and I never saw him again. They tried to track him down through the building site but they were very tight lipped about who worked there. Looks like they were dealing with a lot of shady and unlicensed people coming in and out of there. The thing I learned from this experience is the importance of breaking up your routine whenever you can. I would catch the same bus, at the same time everyday. Get off at the same stop, go to the same grocery store every morning and walk the same way to work. I believe this helped this man figure out where I would be at what time. I don’t let myself think what might have happened if they didn’t not arrive home when they did.
I was seventeen, still living in my parents’ house. Everyone was away on a Friday night so I had a few friends over. We smoked a little, and were chilling in the basement playing video games. Two of my friends ran upstairs to get some snacks out of the pantry. After a few seconds they came running down the steps yelling my name. They say somebody just pulled into my driveway. I hear the dog start freaking out. I panic, thinking my parents are home, and I scramble to hide the weed and pipe we had sitting next to the back door.
I walked up the steps and looked out the window. There was no car in the driveway but my dog was still freaking out. I went outside to see if anyone was out there. It was late, almost midnight, and cold. I was barefoot and poorly dressed. I walked around my house, shivering and nervous, and found nothing. I went back inside, took my dog down to the basement with me and tried to relax.
Maybe twenty minutes later, we hear a huge crashing sound. It sounded like something had exploded right in front of the house. We ran outside through the back door and saw a car wrapped around a tree right by the road in my neighbor’s front yard. My dog starts freaking out again. It was my brother’s car. My brother had gone with my parents to my aunt’s and left his car in the garage. I ran to look inside and there was nobody in it.
I immediately called my brother, freaking out. When he answered the phone I was both relieved and confused. He instructed me to call the police. He came home. The police came and looked around. They took statements from everybody (we hid the fact that we were high pretty well). As the tow truck was pulling my brother’s car out of the front yard, the police received a call about a break in down the street. They left an officer with us and the rest left to respond to the call.
It turns out that a group of people were going through my neighborhood, breaking into houses and stealing cars out of garages. I was in the house when the burglar stole my brother’s car. I may have even walked right past him at one point. When they caught the group, one of the guys was injured as if he had been in a car wreck. He was the one who had broken into my house. I knew him. He had graduated from my high-school when I was a freshmen. He had house-sat for us. He knew where we kept the spare keys, he knew that if one of us was home that the doors would be unlocked and he waited until it was just me, alone in the house.
It wasn’t paranormal, but it still creeps me out to this day that the guy had waited for myself, or any of my other family members, to be alone in the house and had broken in. It scares me that I was so completely unaware of my surroundings back then that I would have let that guy get the drop on me if he had hostile intentions. It makes me sick that somebody we had trusted to stay in our house while we were gone would come back a couple years later and do something like that.
I woke up in the middle of the night last week and looked over at my boyfriend, sleeping soundly next to me. I was admiring his nice face, thinking what long, pretty eyelashes he had. I was half asleep, comfy and warm, and everything was lovely. As I became more alert, it slowly began to dawn on me that, though he does have very long, pretty eyelashes, they weren’t quite that long. That’s when the spider started moving across his face.
THERE WAS A FUCKING MASSIVE SPIDER ON HIS EYEBALL.