13x16: Childhood Sociopath

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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.

In 2018 I moved into a small two-story property in England with my then boyfriend.

It was in a quiet cul-de-sac with houses crammed together, all facing each other.

I'm very introverted and don't typically make it a habit of socializing much with the neighbors.

Still, I naturally ran into a few and exchanged pleasantries, as anyone would.

One of my new neighbors, Greg, was incredibly welcoming right off the bat.

He was an older gentleman, the kind who would stop you for a chat that would drag on and on until you had the opportunity to make up an excuse for why you had to get going.

He shared local stories, took notes of everyone's birthdays, and even invited anyone who was around for a garden party.

Everybody was welcome.

His house was directly across the street from where I lived, with his windows in clear view of mine.

A couple of years passed by, and during this time my boyfriend and I split.

Although I never expressly shared this news with my neighbors, word must have gotten around, as his car was suddenly absent from the driveway.

When he and I broke up, he moved out of my house and left the country, but we stayed in touch regularly as friends.

Having the house to myself felt lonely, so I got a cat to keep me company.

He quickly became my world, and he still is.

Greg would often flag me down to talk when he caught me leaving or returning to my house.

Although I found this annoying, it wasn't anything I couldn't live with.

I would update my ex about weird little interactions that I had with Greg, as they were happening.

We both found it amusing to gossip about.

One such incident was when Greg came to my door to hand over two of my parcels, one of which was a large table that he had yet to retrieve from his house.

I had been raiding in Elder Scrolls online at that time, and I was doing a deathless speed run for an achievement.

Given the time constraint in this style of gameplay, I told him I'd leave the door unlocked so he could simply put it by my door.

Then I sat back down at my desk, put my headset on, and my group charged in at the final boss.

As I continued playing, I heard my front door opening, followed by the sound of my large parcel being placed down.

I then heard footsteps approaching my direction from behind.

I peered behind me to see Greg standing there, eyes fixated on me.

I didn't want to disappoint my raid group, so I continued playing until we killed the final boss before taking my headset off.

Greg's face lit up, and he went on to tell me how amazing it was to watch me play.

I got the impression he had never seen someone use a keyboard, let alone play games.

He begged me to teach him and rambled on.

He was clearly intoxicated, so I just laughed it off and gave a non-committal response.

Despite repeated and polite attempts to get him to leave, he could not be persuaded.

He seemed disappointed when I walked over to my door and opened it to imply that it was time to go.

But he left without further incident.

In the United Kingdom, houses have individual outdoor bins for trash, which have to be rolled out to the street the night before collections take place.

You are then expected to bring the bins back to your property after collection.

I noticed that someone kept bringing my bins back for me.

Around the same time, I noticed someone had been using my bins.

I brought it up to Greg when he pulled over to talk, and he said the same thing had been happening to him.

Maybe it was petty of me, but I decided to tape an old phone with a surveillance app to my window so that I could oversee the bins and try to figure out who it was.

Lo and behold, it was Greg.

I chalked it up to him having run out of bin space after the local council moved from weekly to bi-weekly collections due to staffing issues.

Although it bothered me, my desire to avoid confrontation won in the end.

One late evening, around Christmas time, when the pandemic was in full swing, I heard a knock at my door and walked over to see who it was.

I didn't have a peephole, so I opened the door, not knowing what to expect.

Greg was standing on my doorstep, which wasn't particularly unusual, as I had gotten used to his antics.

I immediately caught the strong scent of alcohol, but he spoke before I had time to process this.

He told me he had a Christmas present for me and handed over a red gift bag with colored tissue paper covering the contents.

I really want to give you a kiss on the cheek, but I can't, not with this pandemic going around, he said.

It was really off-putting, so I did all that I could to politely end this interaction and retreat back inside.

He held me up by rambling on about God knows what.

I firmly told him that I was busy and needed to go.

That's when he put his hand on my shoulder, leaned in, kissed my cheek, and then walked off in the direction of his house.

I closed the door and simply stood there in shock for a few moments.

The present was odd.

Underneath the tissue paper were two bottles of Belgian beer, a can of half-eaten sour cream and onion pringles, and a small plastic bag containing little chocolates.

I recognized the latter item.

Another neighbor with young children had come around to put these plastic bags with chocolate and a handwritten note through everyone's mail slots a few weeks prior.

It was a sweet gesture and probably something that they came up with to keep the stir crazy kids busy, but upon inspecting the regifted chocolates I noticed that he had even forgotten to remove the note from the neighbor.

This kiss and gift gave me a very bad feeling, and I regretted accepting it.

I decided right then that I was done being mispolite and resolved to be firm in my future rejections.

On the second day of the new year, I was feeling lazy and ordered food.

A mere five minutes after receiving my order, there was a knock at the door.

Knowing that the delivery driver hadn't forgotten anything, I concluded this had to be Greg.

And then it clicked for me.

I realized he must have been constantly watching my house, as he would often turn up immediately after anything was delivered.

Then I wondered, was he dumping trash in my bins as an excuse to hang around my house?

He called out for me through the door.

I felt too uncomfortable to answer and retreated upstairs to be out of view from the windows.

Later that night, he came back and kept knocking, but once again I ignored it in hopes that he'd just go away.

The following day, I contacted the police to file a harassment report.

I felt so sheepish doing so and even questioned myself.

Was it really that bad?

He seemed like he was just a lonely old man, and I figured I hadn't been firm enough.

Upon being asked whether I wanted the police to speak with him, I told him I'd do it myself.

I just wanted the report on file, in case anything else happened.

I would later become grateful for filing that report.

Gregg turned up at my door a few days later, telling me how worried he was about me.

I told him verbatim, I think it's best if we don't have any contact contact going forward.

His response was equally as eerie.

I just want to be your friend.

I held my ground, cut the conversation short, and closed the door as I thought, it's finally over.

A year went by without incident.

Everything was fine, no knocks at the door or unwanted conversations while I was outside.

Then, one night the following winter, I was leaving my house to get groceries.

It was completely dark outside, save for the lamp post casting some sparse light onto the street.

My driveway was at the side of my house, where the bins were stored.

The driveway was blocked in by a tall panel fence to add some privacy, seeing as the kitchen window was directly next to it.

You could see right into my kitchen and living room through this window.

As I was outside, locking the door, I saw a figure in the dark slinking out of my driveway and behind the fence.

I immediately unlocked the door and went back inside.

It was dark, so I certainly could have imagined it, but my gut told me otherwise.

Ultimately, I trusted my instincts and decided to forego the groceries for the night.

I also bought and mounted a light with a motion sensor to illuminate my driveway.

The memory of the shadowy figure quickly faded from my mind, and the new light gave me some comfort, knowing that that I'd at least be alerted if somebody was lurking around outside my window.

A couple of months after the incident I was in my kitchen getting some food for my beloved cat.

The window was directly to my left, around three feet away from where I stood.

As I dumped the cat food into a bowl, I suddenly became aware of my motion sensor lights being on.

I looked outside, not seeing anything, until my eye landed on something in the bottom bottom corner of the window.

I squinted, trying to make out what it was.

It somehow wasn't properly illuminated, so I kept staring for what must have been thirty seconds, all the while the light outside remained on.

Suddenly, Greg popped into view directly outside my window.

He had been crouched down, peering in from the corner of the window.

I'm normally someone who keeps a cool head.

I never raise my voice or yell, but I truly lost it at that moment and screamed, What are you doing?

He just stood there, undeterred, and nonchalantly asked, Are you all right?

I kept screaming, Why are you there?

Then he just walked off into the dark, providing no explanation.

I immediately called the police.

Now typically the police in England leave something to be desired, but I have to give them credit for how they handled this situation.

They took my statement over the phone and gave me a reference number.

I received a couple of phone calls with updates, and I was told that they'd bring him into the station.

I was also informed that he was known to the police for having previously followed young women.

Sometime later, he was arrested at his property in front of a wife who I didn't even know existed.

They did this to scare him, according to the officer I spoke to.

They wanted to make a point.

Sadly, I received nothing more than a police caution which forbade him from being on this side of the cul-de-sac or contacting me.

In any case, it did seem to work.

The window incident was the last real interaction I had with Greg.

However, I did see him staring at me in the shower from his window one time when I forgot to close the blinds.

But nothing else.

And I have since moved far away.

So, Greg, you are gross.

And now everyone in the neighborhood knows that you're a creep.

Let's not meet ever again.

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A few weeks ago, I was driving in the middle of nowhere, headed to one of my friends.

My wife was sleeping in the passenger seat next to me, while my teenage daughters were watching a movie in the back.

My toddler was also in the back with my daughters playing with his toys.

It was around 1 a.m.

I was starting to get a bit nervous because the drive seemed to last forever.

Driving along the unlit dirt road was giving me chills.

All that I could see see around us were dark, desolate fields.

The road had many potholes, and I was trying to avoid them as much as I could.

I was focusing on that when I suddenly spotted a piece of luggage in the middle of the road.

On the other side of the road, there was a car, parked, facing us.

The car was completely dark, no lights on inside or outside.

I didn't want to drive over the luggage, so my first instinct was to stop, get get out of the car, and go move it.

I was lucky to have my wife with me, since she grabbed my hand and pointed out that there was something on the right.

I looked over and I saw a person in the field, intermittently looking at his phone, which was the reason my wife saw him in the first place.

I turned my car around since I was ready to leave the road, and then two more people emerged from the field and jumped out in front of us.

They jumped out so so quickly, leaving no space on the road, so I had to sit there with two people in front of my car while the piece of luggage and the person we first saw in the field remained behind me.

I didn't know what to do, so I did the only thing I could think of.

I turned around, facing the luggage, and then drove over it.

Fortunately, this wasn't damaging to my car, so we got out of the situation completely unharmed.

We arrived at my friend's house and everything was fine.

We had a great time there.

However, I still have chills whenever I think about this incident and the random people in the dark, desolate field.

So, to the people from that field, let's not meet again.

This happened earlier this year in in January.

My friend and I had just started working on our film project and we were thinking of ideas for locations of where we could shoot the film.

We wound up driving to a swinging bridge about an hour away from our hometown.

It was an unsteady bridge that was about 400 feet long and 60 feet above water.

This bridge was only meant for walking, so running, biking, etc., was never allowed on it.

It was parallel to another bridge, which was for vehicles.

My friend and I took a couple of shots of the bridge itself before we made our way to the other side where the train tracks and the neighborhood were.

As we were about halfway across the bridge, we heard yelling coming from the other bridge.

We looked and there appeared to be a woman waving her arms like she was trying to get our attention.

She called out a name, but it was unclear.

I thought it sounded like Hayden or Aden, something like that.

Neither of our names were remotely close to what she was shouting, so we yelled back We're not them

thinking that would be the end of the conversation.

The woman continued to stand there, staring at us.

We tried to shrug it off, as we both thought that it had been settled, but then the woman took off in a full sprint, running across the bridge.

She ran in the same direction that we were going.

We thought that it was a bit strange, but we just laughed it off and carried on.

We made it to the other side of the bridge and began shooting footage near the train tracks.

I know that it's unsafe to hang out around train tracks, but this was a regular crossing point for the bridge trail.

While in the middle of a scene, I heard a familiar voice yelling from behind me.

It was the same woman, now yelling the same name again.

She was standing on top of the hill of the neighborhood.

It was just across the train tracks.

We again yelled back that we weren't who she was looking for.

The woman then took off running once again, but this time she was running right towards us.

This was frightening, because why would a woman need to get to us with such urgency?

My friend and I quickly grabbed our things and headed back across the swinging bridge.

We knew that we weren't supposed to run across the bridge, but we wanted to get out of there, so we just walked quickly, which made the bridge sway.

By the time the lady had made it to the bridge we were half way across.

She was still yelling out for us, but this time her voice sounded hateful and angry.

It made our fight or flight kick in.

I turned around to look and see how much distance was between us.

The lady stopped right at the bridge.

She hadn't started to cross the bridge

chased us or what she was holding in her hand.

Sometimes I wonder if maybe she needed help, but if that were the case, why didn't she scream for help instead of screaming someone's name?

I just find it strange that she pursued us after we told her multiple times that we weren't whoever she thought we were.

I've had difficulty sleeping since this happened.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about that woman and what she could have possibly wanted to do with us.

Being chased by her was a scary moment.

I've never been so scared in my life.

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When I was in college from 2008 to 2014, I was an avid metal detectorist.

Back then, I knew of an old military trail and river crossing that was back in a secluded portion of the woods, and I didn't know many others who were aware of it.

I hadn't gone on the trail until finally, one winter morning when I decided it was time to go out there and metal-detect the area.

The trail is about one to two miles away from the city park along the South Concho River in San Angelo, Texas.

I parked my truck, got all of my gear which included a serrated knife for digging, and began my trek through the raw woods and brush to find the trail.

About half a mile into the trees, I got into a clearing and found an isolated campsite complete with a tent about forty yards away from the river.

There were cans strewn all around, as well as some clothes and other stuff that made it evident someone had been using it.

I didn't hang around there for long before continuing on my way.

As I was getting past the tent, this rough-looking guy came out of the brush just a few feet away from me.

I startled him just as much as he startled me.

After some innocent chit-chat back and forth, he asked me what I was doing in the woods.

I told him about the old trail and my metal detecting stuff.

I lied about the trail and said that it was a pretty well-known sight for hobbyists like me, which seemed to make him a bit anxious.

He started asking me if I had messed with his campsite at all, and

was going to be on my way, and with a weird expression on his face, he suggested that I not go behind his campsite since he had recently used the bathroom back there.

I went a little further towards the trail that I wanted to metal detect on, but never felt quite comfortable enough to keep going.

So I made a quick turn towards the river and headed back to my truck.

I never saw the guy again until his picture was all over the local news for being apprehended by authorities for the murder of his wife.

He killed her and then buried her in the same exact area of the woods where I encountered him that day.

I can't recall if I met him on the very day of the crime or not, but from what I've been able to gather, I know he had completed the matter when we met.

I was a bit of a late bloomer when it comes to getting my driver's license.

I was living in the city, so this wasn't a big deal because walking, public transit, and rideshare apps were all extremely accessible.

Although I didn't drive, I had no trouble getting where I needed to go.

Most of the time, I used Uber to get to work, so I met a lot of the local Uber drivers.

Some of them knew me me by name.

There were a few encounters of drivers being creepy, but it was never too bad.

However, there is one driver who sticks out in my head, and thinking about him scares me to this day.

I was 23 at the time.

I had an office job downtown, and on this particular day, I ordered an Uber to take me home from work.

I didn't recognize the driver as he pulled up, but everything seemed pretty normal, so I hopped in.

We said our hellos, and he confirmed the destination address before we started driving.

The driver was a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties.

He was heavier set and very smiley.

He was continually glancing in the rearview mirror at me, noticeably more than other drivers would on average.

Almost right away, he insisted that he had picked me up before.

At the time, I ubered almost daily, so this didn't strike me as all that odd, but but then things started to get weird.

And what he was saying was oddly specific.

He asked me why I no longer worked at my former job.

I was surprised and a little bit alarmed that he had remembered where I used to work, as I hadn't worked there since I was 19.

This meant he had to remember me from at least three or four years back.

He also remembered my hometown, where I went to high school, what college I went to, what I was studying, and how many siblings I had.

Now, I still shrugged it off and figured this wasn't too strange given that he was an attentive and friendly driver, except I was never a talkative passenger and usually avoided small talk.

I typically kept quiet in Ubers, so I have no memory of ever telling any Uber driver information that specific, let alone him.

When Uber drivers ask me questions, I generally keep it short and vague.

For example, if someone asked me where I was from, I'd say, oh, about forty miles south of here.

Or if someone asked me about my siblings, I'd reply, yeah, I've got a few.

I'm not close with them, though.

I made a pretty conscious effort to avoid getting too specific about details to a stranger.

I figured, having them know my address was enough.

So it struck me as extremely odd that this friendly driver remembered such detailed information about me.

He then went on to ask a bunch of personal questions, such as my relationship status, what year I graduated high school, where I liked to go out with friends, and he also knew about my male roommate somehow and inappropriately asked about my relationship to him.

At this point, I was getting extremely uncomfortable, and my answers were becoming more and more curt, but he wasn't taking the hint.

So I stopped being cooperative with the questioning, and I started giving one-word answers and pretending not to hear the questions until he gave up asking and moved on to another subject.

Despite my obvious discomfort, he did not stop questioning me about my personal life for the entirety of the ten-minute drive, and all the while he continually glanced back at me in the rearview mirror any chance that he got.

Towards the end of the ride he began complimenting me.

He told me that my name was pretty, and that I was very beautiful and smart.

He told me that he hoped we'd be paired again since I was his favorite passenger.

Upon approaching the apartment, he asked which door was mine so that I wouldn't get wet, but it wasn't raining.

I pointed at my landlord's door, but he pulled up to my door anyway.

Before he unlocked the door, he turned around, smiled, and said, This is the longest ride we've taken together.

I really hope to see you again.

Have a good night.

Without saying another word, I got out of the car, walked around the side of the building, and waited for him to leave before reporting him on the Uber app.

Thankfully, this occurred back when Uber had real humans working for customer service.

They responded and let me know that they would be blocking him from being able to match with me for future rides.

They also said that they would be investigating further to determine whether or not he would be allowed to keep using the app.

I took the bus for the next few weeks and thankfully never saw him again.

I also never had another Uber ride like that ever again.

It still creeps me out how he knew all that information about me, though.

I'm so glad I've moved since this happened.

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I live on the outskirts of one of the largest cities in the Northeast.

My home is located in a quiet area of the city, so it has a small town feel.

I went to a gym in the suburbs and was headed home.

After a pretty intense workout, I was ready to get home, pet my dog, and take a much needed shower.

Now, to get back into my section of the city from the suburbs, there's an old four-lane bridge that leads into a few of the main streets of the neighborhood.

Markings don't separate the lanes, but there are signs on the bridge, and everyone adheres to the two cars per lane policy.

As I was driving across the bridge, I stayed in the right lane to go straight across, across, as the left lane is a turn lane.

As I reached the end of the lane, I noticed that the car at the end drifted into my lane by about one foot.

I did my best to cut around him, but one of my tires ended up on the sidewalk as I had manoeuvred in my lane.

I glanced over at this guy as I passed.

I didn't flip him off or act aggressively, but I'm sure my face conveyed the message of what the fuck are you doing?

The light turned green and I went straight through it.

I noticed that the car that had been blocking my lane, despite being in the turn lane, went straight as well.

Looking at my rearview mirror, I could see an illuminated uber light in his windshield.

I continued up the residential street, stopping at each stop sign on the way, and this car remained behind me the entire time.

I kept an eye on my rear view as I approached another main street in the area.

As I was waiting at the next light, I noticed that this guy had turned off his Uber light.

I'm not sure why, but something in me realized that something was wrong.

I think that the Uber light initially gave me some sort of comfort, as that indicated that the guy was working, so this conscious act of turning it off made me feel uneasy.

As I turned onto a main street, I made the first left turn I could, and the Uber made the turn behind me.

I was now on a residential street and drove at a safe pace, but I made a couple of turns until I was headed toward the highway.

The Uber pursued, his bumper about a foot and a half from mine.

Halfway down the residential street, there was no doubt in my mind that I was being intentionally followed.

Now, despite having a very buttoned-up office job and a soft-spoken personality, I don't don't necessarily think I'm a prime target for being chased.

I'm a really big guy, about six foot six, a little under 220 pounds, muscular, and I have a lot of tattoos.

I'm sure that this guy saw me as I pulled up next to him on the bridge, and from my glance at him, he looked older and much smaller than me.

While the thought of pulling over and seeing what would happen did cross my mind, with the rate of gun crime in my city, that thought quickly went away.

All I could focus

knew I needed to get away from him.

All the while, the Uber followed, consistently matching my speed and taking every sharp turn that I did through the maze of streets.

Realizing that I needed to get back to a more populated area in case this guy decided to shoot me or hit my car, I headed back in the direction of the main street.

I spotted the parking lot of a fast food restaurant out of the corner of my eye, which provided a shortcut to the main road.

So I blasted through the parking parking lot.

When this man sped after me, I felt hopeless.

I figured if the guy was willing to follow me through all of that, he probably would not stop until he caught me.

I weighed my options as I turned onto the main street.

There was a police department about a ten-minute drive away, but there were several lights and crosswalks between where I was and the police department.

So I decided that I would head through the back streets in that general direction, trying my best to lose him as I went.

As I headed in that direction, I prayed that I wouldn't hit any red lights.

I didn't want to give this guy an opportunity to get out of his car at a red light and hurt me in some way.

As I rounded the corner out of the parking lot, my worst-case scenario was revealed.

The first light I saw was red, with a car already stopped.

This was a one-way street, so I was opposing traffic.

I know it was irresponsible, but I didn't hesitate to continue.

I emerged onto the lane and made a left turn going the wrong way down a one-way residential street.

A few beeps from the other drivers around me rang out, but I didn't care.

I prayed that I had made an irresponsible enough maneuver to throw this guy off.

I hoped that this created enough confusion so that I could get away.

And when I looked in my rear view, I didn't see headlights.

I then drove to the end of the block of the one-way street and made a few random turns down some side streets.

From there, I pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex, found somewhere to park, and turned off my engine.

My adrenaline was starting to wind down, but I couldn't stop shaking.

I reclined my seat all the way back and called the police non-emergency line.

The woman who answered the phone was entirely unhelpful and directed me to call 911.

The police then came to the apartment complex and talked to me.

All I had was the description of the car and guy, whose face I couldn't really recall that well.

They told me they were going to ride it up as a disturbance.

They told me to go ahead and drive home, as some time had passed between the chase ending and their arrival at the apartment complex.

Being the ever-paranoid person that I am, I parked several blocks away from my house.

Then I changed clothes in my car and put on a hat before walking home.

The coast was clear, but that didn't stop me from being on the lookout for this guy guy and his car the whole day.

I thought I saw his car turn left down another block as I walked, but I told myself that even if it was him, he wouldn't be able to recognize me since I was no longer in my car.

Even though I got home safely, I've been feeling helpless.

I'm scared to drive my car in the city and run into this crazy person again.

I'm scared of what he might do to me.

I'm worried that this guy would drive around and see my car, finding out where I live, and try to come after me or my family in some way.

I've never felt this vulnerable before.

I've never considered purchasing a weapon, but this encounter has made me consider doing it.

If I did, it would be legal, of course.

All I can do now is try to move on and hope that he doesn't get any ride requests to or from my area.

So, to the deranged Uber driver who chased me through the back streets of my city because he didn't understand traffic patterns, let's not meet.

I was in a toxic, borderline, abusive friendship with a girl from the ages of 9 to 12.

Here's some background information to give you a little understanding of life back back in the late 2000s.

I grew up in a very tumultuous household.

My family hated each other, and everyone in my extended family, along with my immediate, were plagued by mental illness and drug addiction.

So needless to say, I was very anxious as a child.

I was drawn to unstable people, and suffice it to say, they were drawn to me.

I was a shy 11-year-old girl, who, like many others, used the Internet to vent my frustrations and anger about my home life.

This was the time when AOL was the main source of communication between friends, and I was no stranger to this along with MySpace and soon after Facebook.

However, I wasn't like the typical preteens of this era, or so I thought.

I kept my profiles private, never accepted a follow or friend request that I didn't know, and never shared my location on any of these profiles.

This is where I'll introduce Tanya.

Tanya isn't her name, of course, as I don't want to use her real name in case she just so happens to encounter this story.

Tanya and I met in elementary school.

This was one of the points in my life where my family situation was quite volatile.

Honestly, in respect, I think she sensed this.

I was vulnerable, and she took advantage.

She never really displayed any signs of her true intentions in the beginning, and they never really do.

She would, however, do shady things every now and again.

She manipulated me into begging my mom to stay on the computer until the wee hours of the morning so that we could go to not safe for work websites.

She ghosted me when I didn't give her my favorite pen, yelled at me when I couldn't perfect a guitar solo on Guitar Hero.

There were additional things that she did, but I believe my brain blocked it all out due to trauma.

My mom didn't like her either.

Parents always have a strong intuition when it comes to their kids' friends, and I wish to God I would have listened to my mom before Tanya did what she did to me.

That being said, Tanya's behavior changed for the worst when we turned eleven.

Tanya was openly jealous of my success in school.

Granted she was incredibly smart herself, but she always made a point of mocking me for having great grades and frequently commented, having good grades is a nice balance for you, since you're not very pretty.

It took me a while to rebuild my self-esteem after all of the snide remarks that she would make about my weight and my face, both of which, I realize now, are perfectly fine and even beautiful.

As a result of her jealousy and growing resentment towards me, she began to plot my downfall.

This is no exaggeration either.

This girl literally tried to ruin my self-worth even more than she already had.

When sixth grade started, Tanya and I were remarkably close as far as I knew, and I wanted to do everything with her.

We would talk in school all day, and then once we were home, we would chat on AOL Instant Messenger all night.

On one particular evening, Tanya and I were talking about boys.

Being that we were hormonal preteens, our conversations would usually turn into talking about who we thought was cute in school that day.

Being that I had a horrible relationship with my father, I didn't trust boys, even at an early age, so it was rare for me to develop a crush on anyone.

Do you know Mark?

Tanya asked.

Yeah, he's in my class.

Why?

I replied.

I heard that he likes you, she explained.

Shocked, I responded.

What?

No way.

Totally, she confirmed.

He told me.

You want me to talk to him and give him your username?

My heart was racing, but I agreed.

A boy liked me?

I was surprised since it seemed impossible.

When Tanya told me that she would give Mark my AIM username, I exploded in my seat.

Eleven-year-old me couldn't believe I was going to have my first real boyfriend.

Fast forward to the next night, I was getting ready for bed when I heard the famous famous AOL instant message chime sound off on my iPod touch.

When I checked the notification, it was a message from Marky Boy99.

I turned red, but I was excited since this meant that Tanya really did talk to Mark for me.

After Mark and I broke the ice by exchanging a casual hey, we talked all night.

We talked about everything, our days, how school was, what type of silly bands we liked, typical 11-year-old stuff.

I have to admit it, I was smitten right off the bat.

And I think it was partly because I never had a boy interested in me before.

This was also partly because my self-esteem was so low that I never thought a boy would be capable of even liking me.

Plus, Mark was one of the most popular boys in school at the time.

He played football, was mouthy to the teachers, and was extremely outgoing.

He was all the things a young girl would be attracted to.

We continued to talk for months, and my puppy love was growing for him more and more every time we chatted.

Of course, I never spoke to him on the phone, nor did I get his phone number.

But I didn't clock this as strange as we were so young.

All the while, as I was speaking to him, Tanya would be gassing me up.

She would tell me how proud she was of me and that I deserved a boyfriend.

My suspicions of Mark only began to grow when I attempted to approach him during school hours.

I had anxiety, so I would never speak to Mark outside of AOL Instant Messenger.

Whenever I would talk to him, he looked confused, as if he had never had a conversation with me before in his life.

Whenever I'd approach him, he'd always walk away to be with his friends.

I just thought that it was strange.

I didn't think this behavior was like him at all.

I was used to him being so chatty with me online, so I expected him to welcome me with open arms in person.

My little 11-year-old mind tried to rationalize his behavior by chalking it up to him not wanting to talk to the nerd so openly since he was so popular.

I assumed he simply preferred to keep our relationship online.

I told Tanya about this and she seemed to be genuinely heartbroken for me.

She was just as angry as I was and vowed to confront Mark later that day during music class.

I was happy.

Tanya had my back and I was confident that she was going to tell Mark off about being a total jerk to me.

Whatever she did worked.

Later that night, I got a message from Mark telling me about how sorry he was for ignoring me, and he explained that he was just going through some family things.

And just like that, I was back in love.

I didn't care that Mark ignored me during school.

I didn't care that he rejected my advances in person.

As long as I had him to talk to online, and Tonya's support, I was fine.

I even told my mom about him, and she was extremely happy for me.

Another month passed, and Mark messaged me to tell me that he had something very important to tell me the next day.

My anxiety was spiking.

What could it be?

What did he have to tell me?

At that point I considered myself and Mark to be dating, so I was anxious that he was either going to break it off with me or make us public in school the next day.

I told Mom and Tanya, almost on the verge of tears with how excited and nervous I was.

The next day, which happened to be April 1st, rolled around, and this is what followed.

At around 7 p.m., I heard that familiar AOL Instant Messenger chime.

It was Mark, which meant it was time for the news that I had been waiting for all day.

Hey, babe, Mark greeted me.

Hey, I've been waiting for you to chat with me all night, I replied.

Sorry, I was at practice.

Are you ready for the news?

I was now shaking with anticipation at this point.

Even writing this now, a whole swell of emotions are resurfacing.

Yeah, of course, I answered.

It was then that Mark sent me a picture.

I opened it, and it wasn't Mark.

It was Tanya, and she was holding a handwritten sign that said Happy April Fool's Day.

At first I started laughing.

Of course, it was a prank.

Tanya got me so good, I rationalized.

But then I started to cry.

She betrayed me.

I felt like a loser.

Tanya had been behind Mark all along.

She had been planning and executing this big joke for six months since the previous October.

She had been so eager to try and spend some more time with me that she pretended to be somebody else.

She was stringing my emotions along when she knew I was already in a rough place mentally.

And the cherry on top, well, she told me that I was stupid to even think that Mark would like me in the first place.

I told my mom, who then called her mom.

My mother was livid, to say the least.

She told Tanya's mom to tell Tanya to never speak to me again.

I was crushed.

I was so disappointed to find out that my best friend of three years had catfished me because she simply wanted to pull this prank.

I was loyal to her and she toyed with my emotions for her enjoyment because she could.

In the months that led into seventh grade, Tanya tried multiple times to guilt-trip me into being friends with her again.

One of her more memorable and honestly messed up attempts was when she messaged me a few days after my birthday in August.

She told me that her mother had just passed away in a horrible car crash.

She went into gruesome details about her mother's body was dismembered, and only her head and wedding ring could be found in the wreck.

As anyone would be, I was in tears.

Tanya's mother was nothing but lovely to me, and learning that she had passed away in such a violent violent way crushed my soul.

So I started talking to Tanya again, asking her when her mother's funeral was.

Seconds later, Tanya revealed that she was kidding about the grisly details over her mother's passing.

She said that she was just pulling another prank on me and that I was so stupid to believe her.

She even sent a video of her laughing at me.

I was disgusted.

Who would even say something like that?

What kind of twelve-year-old girl would message someone and say that their mother was dismembered in a car crash?

She then revealed her ugly and quite frankly evil intentions when we were in the beginning of seventh grade.

Tanya quickly became friends with a girl named Kaylee.

Both of them invited me to sit with them at their lunch table.

Since I felt desperate for friends at the time, I naively accepted, only to be met with hordes of insults and laughter behind my back every time I wasn't looking.

Tanya then messaged me me one night and told me that I should kill myself.

She then had Kaylee tell me to go jump off of a bridge.

Tanya told me that she hated me and I deserved all of the pain that she put me through the year prior.

At that moment, I felt like the last four years came to a head.

I had been putting up with Tanya's inexplicably malicious behavior and I just couldn't handle it anymore.

I told my mom and she and I decided that we had had enough.

So she called the police and made me delete my AIM account.

She also spoke with Tanya's mom again and told her that Tanya can never contact me again or else.

My mom also advised that I move lunch tables, but I was hell-bent on not letting Tanya win.

For the entirety of the seventh grade, I sat at the same lunch table as Tanya, but I only spoke to my friends who sat on the other side of the table.

I never spoke to her, looked at her, or gave her any sort of attention.

Kayleigh was scared to death of me afterward, too, because the police had been in contact with her family after my mom called them.

It's been ten years and I haven't spoken to Tanya.

I'm now 22, and I have a bachelor's degree, one in psychology and the other in history.

I'm now working towards my master's in clinical social work.

Tanya did so many other things to me.

I could honestly write a whole different story about it, but writing this out has helped me get closure on that part of my life that scarred me for years.

I thank God for my mom stepping in when she did because I don't know where I'd be without her.

As for Tanya, I don't know where she is or what she's doing, but I genuinely would rather not know.

On the off chance that she stumbles upon this story, I have a message for her.

Your jealousy and wishes for death upon me me did not win, and I really hope that karma does not come around one day to bite you in the ass.

Tanya, let's never meet again.

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

If you'd like to get access to that, head over to patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Meet Podcast to sign up and support the show today.

You'll get access to ad-free versions of all of our episodes and bonus content every single week with stories you won't hear anywhere else.

This week you have heard My Nice Neighbor Just Wanted to Be My Friend by Roman Trash, Country Road by Adam51, The Woman at the Bridge by Maddie Is Okay,

A Metal Detecting Experience by Banshee Maggie, Creepiest Uber Driver I've Ever Encountered by KindlyCost 6810, A late-night car chase with a deranged Uber driver by Legit Wannabe.

And finally, I'm convinced my childhood best friend was a sociopath by Rihanna J.D.

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.

Make sure you send your stories in to let's not meetstories at gmail.com to hear them on the show.

Finally, be sure to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts like Odd Trails, Cryptic Encounters, and the old-time radio cast at crypticcountypodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts.

We'll see you next week.

Everyone, stay safe.

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