14x03: Cemetery Girl

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This podcast contains adult language and content.

Listener discretion is advised.

If you have a story to share, send it to let's not meetstories at gmail.com.

Enjoy the show.

This happened to me about five years ago, and even now, I get chills thinking about it.

I was renting a small house in a quiet neighborhood at the time.

It wasn't anything fancy, but it was cozy, affordable, and had a lot of character.

The only thing I didn't love was the crawl space under the house.

The access door to the crawl space was a square wooden hatch, flush with the floor and the laundry room.

It was locked from the outside, and I never had a reason to open it, so I never saw the inside.

I figured it was just pipes, cobwebs, and the usual creepy crawl space stuff.

One evening I came home late from work.

It had been a stressful day and all I wanted to do was shower before collapsing into bed.

As I stepped inside, I noticed something strange.

My laundry room light was on.

I was certain I had turned it off before leaving that morning, but I chalked it up to being absent-minded during my morning rush as I turned it off again.

That night, at around 2 a.m., I woke up to a faint faint noise.

At first I thought that it was just the wind, but as I lay there I realized a soft, rhythmic thumping sound was coming from the laundry room.

My heart started to race as I debated on whether to get up and check or just stay in bed and hope that it stopped.

Curiosity eventually got the better of me, so I grabbed my phone for light and tiptoed to the laundry room.

When I opened the door, everything was quiet, but then I saw that the hatch to the crawl space was slightly ajar.

My stomach dropped.

I distinctly remember it being locked, and there was no way that I could have accidentally opened it.

I tried to stay calm and convinced myself that it might be an animal that had somehow gotten in.

So I shut the hatch tightly and placed a heavy box of detergent on top of it before going back to bed.

The next day I called the landlord to ask if there there were any pest issues that I should know about.

He seemed surprised and said that no one had reported anything like that before and promised to send someone over to check it out.

That night before I went to bed, I double-checked the hatch and even put a chair on top of it for good measure.

I didn't hear any noises, so I started to feel silly for being so freaked out.

But at around 3 a.m.

I woke up to the sound of my bedroom door creaking open.

I froze.

My bedroom door does not creak unless it's being pushed slowly, and I knew that I had closed it before bed.

I stayed as still as I could, barely breathing, and then I heard soft footsteps shuffling into the room.

These footsteps stopped right next to my bed.

I could feel someone's presence.

I could hear their quiet breathing in the dark.

My phone was on my nightstand just out of reach, so after summoning every ounce of courage I had, I grabbed it, turned on the flashlight, and swung it towards the intruder.

There, in the light of my phone, stood a man crouched on the floor.

His face was pale and gaunt, and his eyes were wide and unblinking.

He looked just as startled as I was.

I screamed and bolted out of the room, then ran outside to the neighbor's house.

I banged on the door until they let me in, and they called the police.

When the officers arrived, they found the man still in my house, hiding in the crawl space.

He had a small mattress, some food wrappers, and a collection of random items that he must have taken from my house.

The lock on the hatch had been tampered with, and from the looks of it, he had been living under my house for at least a few days, possibly longer.

The scariest part?

The police said that they found a notebook which detailed notes about me.

He had written down my daily routine, when I left for work, when I came home, even what I wore.

There was also a list of his intents,

though they wouldn't tell me what was on it.

I moved out the next week and stayed with some friends until I found a new place.

To this day, I have no idea how he got in or how long he had been watching me before I noticed something was wrong.

To the man in the crawl space, let's not meet ever.

happened to me and my roommate about two years ago when we drove into the National Forest just outside of the town that we live in.

We go to a small college in New England, about three hours away from a major city.

For context, this forest in particular has quite a few urban legends surrounding it, so the local community who tend to go there often well, they have a lot of superstitions about how to be safe while out there.

I had just just broken up with my partner and my roommate could sense that I was feeling down.

Finals were just around the corner, so she proceeded to help me get my mind off of things and suggested that we go to a nice spot that she had found the previous week.

We figured it would be good for both of us to get there and just chill and de-stress.

So we took a couple of beers with us and drove to this secluded spot in the forest.

From the moment we drove off the main asphalt road and into the forest, I saw a couple of things that unsettled me.

From the tree line, I could see a ghost town containing abandoned houses, and we saw this old doll hanging from a rope on a tree.

It was really creepy shit, but we didn't really give it a second thought and just kept going.

We eventually reached a clearing where we decided to park the car behind some trees.

Then we got into the back of the SUV, put on some music, and started talking.

About ten minutes later, two cars appeared from the road and also parked in the clearing.

My friend wasn't paying them any attention and instead kept talking, but I was facing them from where I sat, so there was no way that I could stop myself from seeing what they were doing.

A guy popped out of each car, talked for a few minutes, and then I saw them take out a long object wrapped in a dark plastic bag from the back of one of the the cars.

This was also when I noticed that the guys had guns with them, and I'm not talking shotguns, which are often seen in this town.

They had handguns.

Then they started lighting the long object wrapped in plastic on fire.

I told my friend to duck down, and that's when she turned around for the first time and saw them.

Black smoke was blowing out from the bag, and I was hovering between trying to keep my head down down and trying to steal glances at these guys and what they were doing.

Then I saw them take out a second object and heard them shoot at it before they also set that on fire.

I have no idea how long my friend and I were crouched down in silence, but it was definitely long enough to let the terror sink in.

We were even whispering to each other about how much we loved each other just in case this was it.

At some point, I looked up and saw that they were pointing at our car.

They walked into the woods shortly after this, likely following tracks and possibly trying to look for us.

All I know is that once they were further into the woods, I told my friend to jump into the driver's seat so that we could make a run for it.

My friend then opened the back door so that she could get into the driver's seat.

After my friend got in the driver's seat and started the car, I shut the back door.

The guys heard us and started running toward us, and when they saw that we were getting away, they ran towards one of their cars and hopped in.

As we made our getaway, we careened over a hill as we were driving way above what was safe for dirt roads on a hillside.

Thankfully, though, we lost them.

We then drove to a neighboring town and roamed around there for a while and went back to our dorm when we were sure that no one was following us.

The next day we tried to make fun of the whole situation and ended up getting really drunk.

This was when we finally broke down and cried, knowing that we had seen something we were not supposed to.

We were too terrified to tell anyone at first, but eventually told campus police who contacted the local authorities, but nothing ever came of it.

The police never found anything.

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I'm a 29-year-old female.

At 20, I was working towards getting my cosmetology license at a small town beauty school.

It was a modest school and a slightly dated building.

The owner is a woman in her mid-sixties, whose similarly aged husband and son performed the property maintenance for the school.

I didn't like being around the owner's husband.

I found him off-pudding and sensed an unpredictable vibe.

He was quiet, but I always felt like he was leering at the girls.

Rumors went around that he was always drunk, which was honestly perfectly aligned with his demeanor and general appearance.

One day, he gave me a reason not to like him.

This happened during our end-of-day cleanup where students had to complete a list of chores.

Right off of the hallway with our lockers, there was a tiny break room that housed a creepy old closet that was used for storing cleaning supplies.

The dimensions of the closet are important.

It was about fifteen feet deep, but only about as wide as the door, so about three feet wide.

Basically, if you're in the closet and someone stands in the doorway behind you, this would prevent you from exiting.

This fifteen foot space only had a singular shitty light hanging near the door.

So the further you went into the closet, the darker it got.

There was also a vending machine in front of that closet that obstructed its view, meaning that someone walking down the hallway could not see into the closet unless they went into the break room.

I'm also 99% sure that the closet door wasn't even being captured by one camera in the break room.

So, one day I was in the closet alone, looking for Swiffer pads or something like that.

There was nobody in the break room, but then suddenly someone appeared in the closet doorway.

It was the owner's husband.

He stepped into the closet, and I just stared at him.

Now I have little to no rapport with this guy.

It's doubtful he even knew my name.

Also, I was 5'5 and about 100 pounds.

That dude was old and he was able-bodied, much bigger than I.

Without any greeting, he lowly mumbled.

I'll get you back there, pinned so tight.

And then he finished his thought with either you won't know what to do or you won't believe it.

I can't remember which.

Alarm bells went off in my head as I tried to process his words.

What did he just say?

There's no one here but us.

We weren't having a conversation, let alone a conversation that involved what he was saying.

I was so confused and nervous that I didn't say anything in response.

I just pretended that I was so absorbed in finding the swiffer pads that I didn't hear him.

him, and everything was fine.

After a few moments, he stepped back out of the doorway and left the break room.

Relieved, I got the hell out of there.

I couldn't believe that he said that.

There was no context that would have made his words make any sense.

He didn't even retrieve anything from the closet, so I have no idea why he was in there in the first place.

The whole interaction was probably just a minute, but it was unsettling.

I'm glad that he didn't do anything else.

I quietly told a few girls, but I was too scared to make a formal complaint.

I was timid, broke, and had limited prospects in the town that I had just moved to, so I didn't want trouble.

I just wanted to graduate.

Upon hearing my experience, another girl told me that she had also had an unsettling encounter with him, where he stated that it had been a while since he had a girl in the closet.

Since then, I've made it through worse situations and have learned how to stand up for myself, but I regret ever letting him get away with intimidating me.

I should have just told him to fuck off.

I'm thirty-one years old, and this happened in autumn fifteen when I was twenty three.

During that time I lived in Lancaster as I was studying at Lancaster University.

For those who aren't familiar, Lancaster is a small and rather quaint town in northern England.

As a student, you could either live at the university campus or in private accommodations elsewhere in town.

That said, I decided to live in a newly built renovated apartment on a nice side of town, even though it was expensive.

I had already been studying for two years and had reached my third year.

By this time, I had grown accustomed to the layout of the town and felt comfortable and safe living there semi-independently.

I was living with two other friends who were also studying at the university.

Ever since my first year, I had desired to improve my fitness, so I started taking nightly runs around the

or the town.

As we were living in the town centre, I would run either alone or with my housemate.

The important thing to note about Lancaster, and this will be important for later, is that it has quite a large residential area situated on and around hills far removed from the bustling centre.

The centre at that time was a hub for the students or the local northern folk, who were probably drinking in pubs pubs or eating pies.

Occasionally, I would run with my housemate, however I preferred to run alone while listening to some kind of heavy metal.

I was a big fan of deft tones in particular during that period.

One chilly autumn evening I decided to run alone.

It was about 8 p.m.

and I had my earbuds in.

I started to run in this more isolated district that led to a very pretty residential area and a large green green called Williamson Park, which included a butterfly museum at the top of a hill.

Next to the park there was a very large graveyard, the kind that is miles wide with large yew trees, crumbling graves, and a crypt in the middle that had been overrun by leaves and ivy.

What was exceptionally creepy about this cemetery was that it also contained ruins of an old mental asylum or hospital on the other side.

It's possible to sneak into the ruins by walking across the width of the cemetery and crawling through a small hole in the fence that led onto the asylum grounds.

This was ill-advised though, as wild dogs roam freely inside the derelict building.

It was not a place that you wanted to be at night.

So while on my run, I made my way past Williamson Park and up to the entrance of the graveyard.

Immediately my eye was drawn to something small standing at the imposing gates of the graveyard.

I felt a little apprehensive, but it wasn't unusual to see people walking in and out of the graveyard, so I slowed my pace to a walk in the direction of the figure.

As I drew nearer, I realized that the figure was a little girl.

They appeared to be around nine or ten years old.

Once she spotted me, she ran towards me frantically.

She looked panicked and scared.

I even think that she was crying.

I vividly remember that the girl was not wearing a coat, only a thin dress that didn't seem suitable for the harsh Lancastrian autumn.

She asked me if I could help her.

She was desperate and seemed to be frightened of something.

She kept looking back into the graveyard, which at this point was pitch black beyond the gates.

I mean, there was absolutely no light beyond the path.

As the graveyard was quite large, it was chilling to see the depth of the blackness and the vulnerable child standing at the mouth of the gate, completely helpless.

I don't recall what the girl said exactly, but I offered to call the local police.

I had typed in 999 on my phone and had it on loudspeaker.

That was when the girl's demeanor immediately changed.

She was not happy about the fact that I was calling the police, and she made that evident.

She stopped crying, and grew angry as she insisted that she did not need the police to help.

I reassured her that it was best to inform the police of whatever was going on, and even offered to walk her to the police station, which was only about twenty minutes back down the hill.

This was where the story got weird and a little terrifying.

Without further explanation, the girl turned and ran back into the graveyard.

She ran directly through the gates and back into the thick, eerie blackness.

She never even turned back.

She just ran as quickly as she could until she disappeared entirely, and it went totally silent.

I was scared, scared beyond belief, to say the least.

This left me standing in the darkened street, completely alone.

I had so many questions.

Who was this girl?

Why was she alone?

Why was she scared to involve the police?

Why wasn't she frightened of the dark?

Who might she be running to, or from?

I turned and ran all the way back down the hill, not stopping until I reached a well-lit populated area.

After that, I never ran on my own at night again.

This mystery has plagued me ever since.

To the girl in the graveyard, let's definitely not meet again.

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I used to get hit on all the time when I was younger, in very creepy ways.

I never thought much of it, as it was happening, but now that I'm in my forties, with two preteen girls, certain encounters really bother me.

This happened when I was by myself, picking up some dinner at a restaurant at about 5.30 one evening.

I passed by this guy who was entering the restaurant as I was leaving.

As we were passing each other, I gave him a quick, polite smile in acknowledgement, and walked out the door.

My car was parked around the corner.

This area was very walkable.

There are a lot of businesses in the area with a lot of people walking around.

I didn't see any people on the side of the street since some of the businesses were closing up, but there were still a lot of parked cars around.

It was dark, but there were street lights illuminating the streets and sidewalks.

I walked up to my passenger side door and put put my food and purse in the seat.

That's when I noticed the guy I passed as I was leaving the restaurant was behind me.

He was about three car spaces away from me.

He had a bag of food and was crossing to the other side of the street.

This startled me for just half a second, but my fear dissipated when I realized he seemed to be doing his own thing.

I walked around to my driver's side door and opened it up.

He was at his driver's side door as well, but since his car was parked facing the opposite direction, we were both standing, by our doors, in the street.

Suddenly he asked Can I tell you something?

This caught me off guard, I replied.

Yeah, okay.

Also I should mention that I've been conditioned to be nice and polite my whole life, and I assumed he was probably just a nice person trying to be friendly.

He then came over to my side of the street as I was standing by my still open car door.

He leaned in and said, You look very nice.

Do you want to play my game?

I play this with all the girls, I think, are pretty.

This is when my brain went, how do I get out of this situation?

So I said, No, I've got to pick up my kid, sorry.

Now this was true, kind of.

My youngest was in class not far away, and I did need to pick her up.

My game is just rock, paper, scissors, but if I win, I get a kiss, he explained.

I was bewildered by this request and had him repeat himself.

The audacity of this pitch left me struggling to piece it all together for more than a second.

I then noticed that his other hand was in his pocket.

As I stood there unmoving, I realized that he could have a weapon in there.

So I gave him a nice, good-natured laugh and replied, No, I can't do that.

I have a partner and two kids.

How about a hug, then?

he persisted.

Getting more uncomfortable, I chuckled and politely said, No, sorry, no hugs either.

Okay, let's just play rock, paper, scissors, then, he insisted.

I thought to myself, fuck, I'm going to have to agree to play this goddamn goddamn game just to get him out of here.

But I better do it because he might have a weapon in that pocket.

I should have just jumped into the car and slammed the door as fast as I could, but I was terrified.

So we played.

I put out a rock and he put out scissors.

He wanted me to smash his scissors, so I did so while keeping an eye on his pocket the whole time, wondering if he was going to hurt me.

All right, I really need to go pick up my kid now.

Good night, I I said as I got into my car and left.

I'm so pissed off that even in my forties I have to play these little stupid games and be nice to men who have crossed a line and made me feel unsafe.

I didn't want to be nice to him, but I thought that if I decided to be blunt and call him out, he might get mad and do something.

Did I avoid some kind of attack or was this just some guy who saw someone he was attracted to and took a chance?

Either way, I just just wish that I could rewrite the rules.

When I was in my twenties I was unmedicated for my bipolar disorder.

I was dealing with an immense amount of unprocessed trauma.

I was also being very reckless, and just not making good choices.

I was using OK Cupid and matched with a guy who seemed pretty normal.

He worked at a smoke shop, had a dog, no kids, and was married.

Come to find out, he and his partner were looking for someone who would be down for a threesome.

We talked for a few weeks before he invited me over.

I said yes, and walked to the street corner of my apartment and told him where I was so that he could pick me up.

He did so in this newer BMW, and we drove across town to his place.

When I got there, the vibe was a little awkward.

I met his wife, and the three of us chatted.

She told me that she was a registered nurse at the local hospital, as she was showing me her tattoos.

After a while, he offered to make us some drinks.

My mom always told me to be careful about taking drinks from strangers at bars and such, but I never considered that I needed to be careful about taking drinks from someone in their house.

Still, I kept my eye on him.

He had several mini vodka bottles and was pouring them into glasses.

He then added a juice of some kind before serving them.

It tasted like a cheap, ordinary drink.

It was dry and heavy-handed on the booze.

After a while, I felt really anxious, and his wife had gone into the bedroom, so I was alone with him.

As I became nauseous and felt overall sick, I knew that something was off.

But I worked at a hospital as well, and I assumed that I just picked up a bug.

When I stood up, it felt like the entire world had shifted.

I damn near fell over the couch.

I didn't think I drank that much, but I thought I must have.

So I grabbed my bag and told him I was going to call a cab and go home.

He immediately stood up and loudly said, No, you can't.

He said this so quickly and frantically that it scared the shit out of me.

I knew I had to get out of there.

I told him I wasn't staying and proceeded to the door.

He tried to block the door, but being shorter than him, I ducked under his arm.

He then tried to grab my shoulder, but I shook him off and then took a swing at him.

My blow landed on his throat and knocked the wind out of him.

While he was gasping for air, I took the opportunity and ran as fast as I could out the door and into the street.

I had a number for a cab saved in my phone.

This was the direct number for a really nice cabby.

It was his personal cell phone number, and he was a close friend of someone that I knew well.

I didn't know what else to do, so I called him.

He answered groggily as he had clearly just woken up from a deep sleep.

I sobbed as I told him about what happened.

He perked up right away and told me to walk to the gas station across the way and wait for him there.

Less than five minutes later he pulled into the parking lot.

Then he jumped out of his car and ran over to me.

He had remembered taking me home previously, so he knew the address already.

As he drove me home, he told me to have a friend meet me at my house and stay with me.

A friend met us there and brought me inside.

I don't remember the rest of the night at all, but according to my friend, I was acting erratic and making no sense at all.

She ended up calling 911, and an ambulance came.

I woke up in the hospital with two doctors telling me I had a high amount of benzodiazepine in my system, and it was a miracle that I made it home alive.

I filed a police report, which led to the nurse being arrested.

I'm not sure what happened after that, but I'm very grateful for the cabby who came to my rescue.

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Out of consideration for some, I'd like to start by providing a trigger warning.

I want to warn everyone that I will briefly be mentioning sexual assault with as few details as possible.

A little over a year ago, I was bored and scrolling the web, which was nothing unusual for me.

As I scrolled, I decided to go to Omegle.

Omegle was a website that allowed people to talk to strangers via video or text chat.

It had been around for about 14 years before it dissolved in 2023.

I used Omegle frequently when I was younger as a time waster.

Sure, there were plenty of creeps out there, but I've had an equal amount of pleasant interactions and conversations there as well.

On Omegle, you could type in tags which are basically keywords that describe the type of interaction or individual that you're looking for, and then you would match with someone with the tags that were specified.

I always used ALT as an alternative as a tag.

I felt like this tag weeded out a lot of rude people and was more successful at connecting me to people my age.

For reference, I was 19 at the time.

I connected with someone who called himself Kane, and we started chatting via text.

He said that he was 23 and I let him know I was 19.

We exchanged some small talk, and before I knew it, we talked all night.

And I mean all night.

We lived in the same time zone and stayed up until about 6 a.m.

chatting about philosophy, life, and other interests.

He was entertaining, and I was having fun.

When we were talking about the general areas that we lived in, he abruptly said, We should meet up sometime.

I laughed laughed at first, but it turns out he was serious.

We only lived about three to four hours away from each other, so he was genuinely considering this.

Ordinarily, I'm an anxiety-ridden person, but for whatever reason, I thought that he was normal due to the fact that I had just spent hours and hours talking to him.

I didn't pick up on any red flags, so I said, sure,

why not?

So, just like that, we started planning a camping trip.

He was set on doing this just days after our initial chat, since that was when he was off work next.

I agreed since I didn't have anything else going on at the time.

I also asked him for his number so that we could talk somewhere other than Omegle.

He gave it to me.

I'm an iPhone user, so, when I started texting, I noticed that the message bubbles displayed as green, indicating that he was using a Samsung or Android.

Teasingly, I asked something along the lines of, What's up with the Samsung?

After a few minutes, he texted back, saying that he had two phones, and that the one I was texting was for work.

That was the first red flag that went off in my head.

Why would you need two phones at his age?

I mean, of course, it's possible it really was for work, and there are probably other possible reasons one would need two phones, but in any case, this did set off an intuitive feeling, one that I regret not paying closer attention to.

I then asked him what his job was, and he said that he worked for the state.

He added that he wasn't permitted to share specific details about his job since he signed papers saying that he wouldn't, and that he could get fired if he were to violate this agreement.

I was still weary of this, but I figured figured he just worked for a police station or the town council or something to do with law enforcement.

I also assumed that I was probably overthinking.

Anyway, days passed and the date for our camping trip approached quickly.

He wanted to take me someplace close to where he lives in New York.

I wanted to do at least a little research about where I was going, so I popped in the name of the location into Google.

A bunch of results popped up about the soil on on Nimhim Mountain, where he wanted to go being contaminated with arsenic due to the old mines in the area.

All of the government and state articles that I read said that it was still safe to hike, but it was advised that you should wash your skin and shoes after hiking.

I still had a feeling of unease about the whole thing, so I texted Kane and I asked him why we were going someplace that could potentially be dangerous.

He assured me that that nothing would happen.

He said that he chose the spot because it's somewhere that he and his friends frequently camped.

This slightly reassured me, and I figured he knew the area better than me after all.

My parents tend to be overly suspicious of everyone, and strict is a safe word that I use to describe them.

It's all for good reason, though.

They're just trying to be protective.

I told them that I was meeting up with a friend that I met through gaming and that that I had already known him for a month.

I knew that this would be less likely to freak them out than the truth.

They were adamant that this was a horrible idea, but finally let me go when Kane pulled into our driveway.

He didn't come inside.

He waited out there for me.

After a brief introduction, my mom rushed out to meet him and asked a few questions about the area that we were headed to, and then we were off.

We pulled into the Starbucks by my house so that he could get a coffee since he was tired from the drive up.

We sat in his car for about an hour and a half afterward.

During that time he asked me to rate the playlist that he had been playing and showed me how he writes down every single song that he likes in a little notebook that he kept in his car.

I thought that it was weird, but kind of sweet.

Like, what guy these days keeps track of something like that?

After an hour or so had passed, I told him that we should get going, so that we could get to the campsite before dark.

He kept saying, just five more minutes.

And after about thirty minutes of insisting that we needed to leave to make it on time, he finally got us on the road.

During the four-hour drive to our destination, Kane mostly talked about himself.

He told me long stories about his friends and a girl that he used to date that he didn't like.

I thought that this was strange, so I tried to deviate to a brighter topic by asking him what kind of things he was into, hobby-wise.

I already knew the stuff that he told me online, but I was trying not to suffer from awkward silence or any more of his weird ramblings.

He said that he thinks that eating healthy is important and that people who eat junk food are stupid.

He also said that he only wears sustainable clothing that is made from cotton or wool.

I don't have a problem with sustainability, but he was talking about it in this really obnoxious way.

Then he turned to me and he asked me the very first question about me since we got into the car.

What brought you to Omegle?

I told him that I was bored and that I liked meeting new and interesting people, and that was about it.

He nodded slowly in thought and grinned, showing the most expression that I had seen on his face so far.

He said that he likes to go on Omegle and tell people that he's a soldier in Russia and that he would be torturing people as he spoke to them.

I sat there in silence, kind of staring at him, waiting for him to say that he was just kidding, and that he had a fucked up sense of humor, but he didn't.

He just laughed and said, What?

As we neared the campsite, I mentioned that I was getting kind of hungry.

He said that he could stop at the Whole Foods before going to the campsite for the night.

In my head, I sighed about this, knowing he was probably going to judge me for whatever I picked out there.

But I was hungry, so I agreed.

In Whole Foods, he made me pay for both of our meals because he said his card wouldn't work there.

He didn't even try, though.

This annoyed me, but I was eager to get to camp, so I paid, and we sat outside to eat.

After about an hour we were finally ready to head up to the camp.

So we drove up the mountain, and he pulled into a small parking area with about three spots.

There were other cars parked there, with older men surrounding the cars, smoking weed.

Nothing that they were doing seemed wrong, but it just made me uncomfortable to see them there so late at night.

Before I could even mention it, Kane said that it was too cold for him to carry out our supplies and set up camp in the campsite, which was about a ten minute walk away.

I was taken aback by this.

I said, What do you mean?

I'll help you.

We didn't come up here for nothing, right?

He insisted that it was too cold and told me to get out of the car, to feel how cold it was myself.

He added that it would take a while to pitch our tent and that it was too much for us.

There There was no way that I was getting out of the car and facing the men in the parking lot next to us, so I rolled down the window halfway and stuck my hand out.

That night, it was in the thirties, so it was freezing, and the wind chill felt worse with elevation.

I was annoyed, but I agreed to sleep in his car for the night, and I was sad that our trip was essentially a waste.

He sat in silence for a while, seemingly uncomfortable that I was annoyed and unsure how to comfort me.

I slinked back into the passenger seat and started to scroll on social media trying to pass the time.

He grabbed my phone out of my hand and said, Come here,

and then patted his lap.

I was already annoyed at the situation and confused about what he thought he was doing, so I said, You're funny as I reached for my phone, which he had tossed onto the floor of the car.

Before I could get to it he reached over, scooped me up out of my seat, and tossed me onto the back seats.

Then he proceeded to assault me.

I don't remember most of it.

My eyes were closed, and I was praying for it to end.

When it was over he pushed me back into the seats and got dressed.

Then he smiled and asked, How was it?

I just stared at him with tears in my eyes.

Then he climbed back into the front seat, propped his feet up on the wheel, and went to sleep.

I didn't know what to do.

I sat there motionless in the back seat for about two hours before trying to process what had just happened.

I considered calling my mom, or calling 911, and I thought about it, for what felt like forever.

I had already been assaulted once in my life, and it broke my parents' hearts.

I thought that learning of this would absolutely destroy them, and I was also afraid of what would would happen if I told them.

I also didn't want my dad or brother to go to jail for life because they were angered enough to get revenge against this guy.

So I just sat there all night watching the men smoking their joints outside.

I don't remember falling asleep, but eventually I woke up to wind hitting the car.

I was in the fetal position, sitting upright, holding my legs and arms.

Kane noticed that I was awake and said that it was time to go.

I was so scared of him that I felt like my heart was leaping out of my throat.

Adrenaline was pumping through my body, and I started scanning the back seat for our overnight bags, for something that I could use as a weapon in case he tried to pursue me again.

I ended up holding on to my metal water bottle, as it had heft to it from being full.

It wasn't deadly by any means, but it could definitely knock someone out, and holding it just made me feel safer.

I stayed in the back, and Kane started driving.

I asked where we were going and he casually said To get breakfast.

He said this with a tone that made what he said seem obvious and it was silly of me to even ask.

After driving down the mountain and back into the city, we pulled into a parking garage where he said We're here.

Get out.

I got out of the car but clung to it not wanting to let him get behind me.

I was thinking about making a run for it, but I didn't want to risk getting chased and overpowered by him.

I followed him to a little Mexican spot on the corner, and he told me to order the pancakes so that he could have some.

This made me more pissed off than I already was, but I didn't say anything because I was afraid there would be consequences if I showed any negative emotions.

I ate a few bites of my food and he happily ate the rest off of my plate.

He quickly paid with cash and took me back to the car, where he laid down down in the back seat.

He said he was going to take a nap because he didn't sleep the whole night before.

I didn't want to argue with him, so I let him sleep and wondered how he could even sleep after doing what he did to me.

He slept for about three hours.

The whole time I was watching YouTube videos trying to calm myself down and keep a clear head.

It was about 9 a.m.

and around this time my mom was waking up and texted me saying that she wanted me to be home.

I told her that Kane was taking a nap and that I would be home soon.

She didn't like the sound of that and insisted that I come home right away.

I was happy to have a reason to get out of there, one that might be convincing enough to Kane.

I woke him up and he became very angry with me and said, Don't wake me up.

Play on your phone, or just watch TikTok or something.

I was now shaking, but I managed to say that my mom wanted me home and that we needed to go.

He said to let him sleep for 30 more minutes and told me to set a timer on my phone, so I did.

Those 30 minutes felt like 30 hours, and once it went off, I woke him up once again.

This time I filmed myself waking him up because I was afraid of what was going to happen.

He was angry once again, and I told him that the 30 minutes was up.

I asked to leave and even begged, but he said no.

Over and over, he just kept saying that we weren't leaving.

I was now shaking uncontrollably, but I put on a brave face and pretended like I was being playful, and just said

Okay, I'll get an Uber then.

I then turned around and started to open the car door when I felt his hand grab my shoulder and dig into it, yanking me back into place.

It was terrifying.

I honestly think I blacked out from fear for a few seconds.

With his hand still on my shoulder he asked What the fuck are you doing?

My mind was racing, and I was on the verge of tears.

This caught his eye, so I quickly played it off by saying my mom was going to call the police and come get me if I wasn't home soon.

I had mentioned earlier that my dad worked in law enforcement, so this was a little bit more believable of a lie.

At the mention of the police, something changed in his face.

He looked frantic.

He let go of me and unhappily agreed to drive me home.

I felt a deep relief, the deepest relief I had ever felt, and swallowed the lump in my throat as he climbed into the front seat and started the five hour drive back to my house.

The drive was much quieter than the drive up.

I didn't say anything unless he initiated it.

I just gripped my phone in my hand and tried not to make eye contact with him.

And I wondered if he had any remorse for what he did the night before.

When we reached the town where I live, it was 11.30 eleven

at night.

Kane pulled onto the main strip to get to my house, and I saw flashing lights behind me.

My first instinct was to be scared shitless because my dad is a cop, so I've always made extra sure not to break any traffic laws.

The police pulled us over and two men stepped out of the cop car.

I frantically rolled down my window so they could see a familiar face.

The daughter of their boss.

One of them greeted me and looked both concerned and disappointed that I was in the car with some guy getting pulled over.

The other cop told Cain to get out of the car while I explained what we were doing out so late.

I spared the illegal, horrific details, and I was tired and scared.

I needed to be safe in my own home.

I also didn't want them to wake my sleeping dad with such bad news.

I overheard the second officer ask Cain about his info when he said, What's your name, son?

Kane just mumbled, and the officer asked him to speak up.

The name that he gave was not Kane, and he told the officer he was twenty-two, not twenty-three.

My heart sunk, and I sat motionless while they explained to Kane that he missed a stop sign and that they were letting him off with a warning.

They told me to get home, and I nodded my head.

As we pulled away, I let my emotions take over and started screaming at the stranger I was sitting next to.

Why did you lie to me about your name and age?

What the fuck is wrong with you?

He looked distressed by the volume of my yelling and told me to calm down, and that he was sorry he lied.

He said that he only lied about his identity for his safety.

That honestly baffled me considering that he just assaulted me.

I screamed at him for the rest of the way back to my house, and as we pulled in, I threw the car door open and started throwing my stuff into the lawn, desperate to get far away from him.

He tried to talk to me and offer pitiful excuses for his disgusting actions, but I screamed at him to get the fuck away from me and said that I never wanted to see him again.

I gathered my stuff off of the lawn and I hauled it into my room while my parents slept soundly, unaware of the terrible secret I was coming home with.

I woke my mom up and told her that I was home, as she requested.

Once I got into my room, I broke down, as what just happened to me started to sink in.

As I was sobbing silently into my blanket, my phone lit up with a text from Kane.

It read, I'm sorry about what happened.

I really am.

If it makes you feel any better, I just got pulled over again, so that's karma, I guess.

Let me know if you want to talk.

I felt this wave of nausea hit me like a train.

I got a screenshot of the message, blocked his number, and deleted his contact.

I haven't heard from him since, and I haven't hung out with anyone else besides my boyfriend, who is normal, thank God.

I still think about what happened almost every day, and I still feel sick when someone I don't know gets close to me, even if it's just a stranger passing by in the grocery store.

I know that what happened was the result of my own impulsive and irrational teenage decisions.

I shouldn't have met up with someone that I didn't know well.

But our initial lengthy chat gave me a false sense of security, and I had faith that he would be a normal person.

Somewhat, at least.

I wish I would have listened to my instincts and my parents' warnings.

I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't made up that story about my mom calling the police.

I don't even want to think about it.

And I'll never meet up with someone that I don't know ever again.

While trying to cope with what happened happened to me, I googled Nimham Mountain in New York.

I found a link that said Cane Mountain, North Trail Loop, New York, which immediately explained the pseudonym.

If you made it this far or take anything away from this story, please let it be this.

Trust your instincts.

Trust your gut.

If something feels wrong, it probably is.

Also, do not meet up with strangers no matter how normal or unassuming they look or how friendly they seem.

It was hard for me to share this story after carrying it as a secret for so long, but I hope that this inspires someone out there to follow my advice and keep themselves safe.

What happened to me was disgusting and horrible, and I never want it to happen to anyone else again.

That being said, Kane, let's not meet again.

I hope you're rotting in jail or hell right now.

Thanks for listening and stick around after the music if you're a patron for your extended ad-free version of this week's episode.

If you'd like to get access, go to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast to sign up and support the show today to get access to ad-free versions of all of our episodes at a higher bitrate for the best listening experience as well as bonus content every single week with stories you won't hear anywhere else.

This week you have heard The Man in the Crawl Space by MUK World, Not Going Into That Forest Anymore by Nob IG,

He Cornered Me in a Closet by Isabel Wolf, Mysterious Encounter Outside a Cemetery During a Night Run by All Cats Are Gray X

Creepy Guy Wants to Play Games by No Lo6377 Roofied by a Nurse by Queer Fox.

And finally, I escaped being kidnapped by someone I met met online by Bella's Third Eye.

All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors.

Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast, is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online.

Send your stories in to let'snotmeetstories at gmail.com to hear them on the show.

Finally, make sure to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts like Odd Trails, My True Paranormal Podcast, Cryptic Encounters, and the Old Time Radio Cast at crypticcountypodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts.

I'll see you all next week.

Everybody, stay safe.

My favorite stories on the podcast are the ones where a pet is involved.

Those stories are just so compelling.

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