Guy lights himself on fire, runs through a parking garage and jumps from the eighth floor or so. Watching him fly through the air and hearing him scream is one of many memories I would love to forget. Hearing him hit the concrete made a sound that is hard to describe but is probably closest to the sound those kids jelly toy things make when you throw them on the ground and they flatten out. Any temporary relief I received from his screaming stopping was quickly replaced by confusion as I see what I thought was a greyish pinkish ball rolling along the ground about ten feet away from his head towards me. Brain pulls a total derp as I think thats an odd looking basketball, wonder what it’s doing over here nowhere near any outdoor courts. Snap back to reality, yup intact brain, instant out loud WTF. The sounds and smell of burning flesh are what is burned most into my soul. I guess not really scary, but these days I don’t do heights or get close at all to fire.
This happened just a couple weeks ago on a friday. It was late at night, around midnight. I had two friends in my car, we were coming back from a restaurant to celebrate finishing up the school play. I just dropped the first friend off and was now making the four or five mile drive to my second friend’s house. It’s a narrow road in MA that cuts through some pretty dense woods. She was in the front seat and we were listening to ballads, just talking about life. Not a big deal.
I was behind a deep red pickup truck that had a motorcycle in the bed of it the entire way so far. I wasn’t tailgating them, nothing, even though the driver was going a bit slow for my tastes and swerving around just a tad too much. When I’m just about to reach this intersection that’s not even a block from my second friend’s house, this guy pulls over. Seemingly no reason, he just pulled over to the side of the road about a car or two’s length from the blinking red light. As I pass him to stop up ahead, I see his face. He has a pretty generic face, nothing unusual, but he’s staring right at us with anger in his eyes. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I just sense something’s…not quite right. My friend looks out the window and says; “What is he doing?” shakily.
I look at my rearview mirror to see the guy getting out of the seat, pulling a ski-mask over his face and wielding a huge, I’d say 10 inch knife in his hand. He started sprinting at my car, almost reaching the passenger side. I screamed and slammed on the gas, driving around for awhile, the man only chasing my car for a few blocks until he knew he wasn’t going to catch us. When I got back at the intersection minutes later to drop my friend off, he was gone. My friend ran inside, locked her doors and everything and I sped away, but it. Was. Terrifying. I told the police and filled out a report last week. Never driving at that intersection again.
When I was a kid my bed faced the open doorway and I could see straight down the hall to my mom’s bedroom. One evening when I was about 8 or 9 I woke up looked down the hall and saw a feminine figure leaning against the doorway of my mom’s room. There were no distinct identifiable features, but I could tell it was a lady, and she was all white. I put the covers over my head and screamed for my mother.
The next day we were at the county fair when my mom and dad are talking, basically saying “we should tell her.” They sat me down, and had explained that a lady was murdered in the house at the top of the stairs (where my mom’s room was) back before they bought it. They never arrested anyone for the murder, but people speculated it was her husband. They shared some of the strange things that happened in the house right after they’d moved in. There were a LOT of strange things.
About 20 years later my boyfriend and I are staying the weekend in the house while we’re in town. We got into a slight argument, and I told him “I’m going to bed.” And as I’m walking away, I hear a very distinct voice (a female’s one) saying “Where are you going?” and I stopped and said “I told you, I’m going upstairs.” To which my boyfriend responded with confusion as to why I had repeated what I’d said. It hadn’t registered right away that it had been a female voice, but it was definitely like someone was there asking me. The next day I had told him the history of the house, and then he shared some strange things he had noticed over the few days but didn’t tell me because he was worried I’d think he was crazy.