Let's Not Meet: Cleaning Houses

In the mid-80s, my mum was a cleaner in Australia. She would do clean houses in suburban areas and would sometimes do houses in rural/wine regions (we lived near both).

She would leave business cards at the local shops and got most of her business this way, and some through referrals and word of mouth.

One day she got a call from a lady who sounded like she was around 60, asking mum to clean her old farmhouse. She made a lot of odd demands and mum would usually meet clients before taking on new business. In this case, the lady did not want to meet mum and said she would leave the keys under the front doormat. Mum agreed mainly because the lady was quite obviously wealthy and was offering to pay mum substantially more than she would reasonably expect.

Mum went to the house on a Monday morning and said she already felt unnerved by the long driveway. The house was essentially in the middle of a very large, and very empty property. She found the keys and started cleaning.

About an hour in to the clean, she hears the back door shut. Mum was told no one would be at the house so she immediately felt unsafe. She stood frozen in the kitchen for what she said felt like 3-4 minutes although she said it could have been much longer. There was no other car on the property.

She wanted to leave immediately but had two rooms left to do, both were bedrooms. She said as time passed and she heard nothing else, she decided that perhaps it was nothing, or perhaps something had fallen and it wasn't the door after all.

She walked up the hallway and stepped into the bedroom. All over the bed were black and white photos. As mum got closer, she realised the photos were all of her. Some where taken at our family home, and many others were taken at other houses mum would clean. Some through windows or over fences.

She used the house phone to call the police and immediately drive to the end of the driveway. The lady ended up being investigated but continued to claim that it was a break-in. After some time, the police stopped with their searching and we ended up moving to a new town 4 months later.

Every time mum tells me this story I get serious chills. Absolutely a true story too. To the day my mum thinks the lady had something to do with it. But why? And for what purpose?

Any theories?
  
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by reddit user WalterDisneey via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet

Let's Not Meet: My Female "Friend"

This is a tale about a friend I used to have years ago. Her name was Sara and I met her in the 7th grade. Back then, she was a normal preteen girl, much like myself. We were best of friends for 7th and 8th grade. We lost touch after our 8th grade graduation because we went to separate high schools: public for her, private school for me.

It wasn't until I moved back into my mother's house at the age of 19, pregnant and depressed from my failed relationship with both my father and ex, that I started talking to her again. We picked right back up where we left off at the end of 8th grade and quickly rebuilt our friendship back to best friend status. She even agreed to be my son's godmother.

Now, I want to take a moment and tell you a bit about Sara and myself. We were the same age, our birthdays roughly two weeks apart from each other. She was the oldest of three girls. We both appeared to look similar almost. Both fairly pale in skin, glasses, and same height (she was a few inches taller than me, but nothing to really brag about) and weight. Her hair color was more blonde compared to my brunetteness and had blue eyes while I have brown eyes. Back to the story.

This takes place a few months after I had given birth. Nothing major had happened between me and her yet, expect she was a little bossy, but I brushed that off as being the eldest sibling. Nothing I couldn't handle. The only thing that I found weird was that she freaked out if I didn't answer her text messages back right away. Even if I was at work and couldn't without fear of losing my job. But I tried brushing it off as her worrying about me.

I had started dating a new guy named Josh. Sara was actually the one that introduced us two because Josh was a good friend with her boyfriend, Rob. Naturally, I started spending a little more time with Josh, but still spent a lot of my time with Sara. She didn't take to this very well, and tried causing problems for me and Josh. After having a sit down with Sara, telling her I wasn't giving up our friendship but neither was I going to push a guy I really liked away. She seemed to have gotten the message and backed off.
Shit hit the fan shortly after Josh and I moved into an apartment together. Sara demanded to spend more time with me while Josh was at work. I really had no problem with it, but her bossiness started to reach unbearable levels. She didn't ask to stay for dinner, simply said she was staying. Asking her to leave for the night fell upon deaf ears and many times crashed on our sofa (causing any possible sexy times with Josh to fade.) It got to the point she started tagging along on our dates, so we simply started not going out. I tried talking to her, but she kept saying if I was a real friend, I wouldn't mind her being there all the time.

Well, we managed to get one free weekend without Sara. She had gone to some water park with her family, so Josh and I got to spend some much needed alone time together. However, because of the strain Sara caused us, we had a hard time enjoying each other. I refused to end my relationship with him and we tried hard to work it out. We tried talking to her boyfriend, Rob, asking if he could help us. He said they were planning on getting an apartment together at the beginning of the following month (she was still living with her parents at this point), but told us it was looking like it was going to be in the same complex as us. I could deal with that, figured she would want to spend time in her new place, decorating it and hosting dinners for her friends and families.

Also note, I had gotten my hair done earlier in the week. I got an awesome new haircut that looked great and loved it a lot. I got many compliments on it from various friends. Well, when Sara came back from her mini vacation, she had dyed her hair to the same color as mine and gotten it cut the exact same way. I didn't really mind too much, it was a pretty sweet haircut, but both Josh and I couldn't get over how weird it was we were looking like twins. She even got colored contacts to wear under her glasses that changed her eyes to the color of brown. Like me.

One night later that week, I was hanging out with another mutual friend of ours without Sara. Her name was Heather. Heather and I had gotten around to talking about Sara when Heather said, casually, "You know she is jealous of your life right? She's even got a huge crush on Josh and you." I really had no idea. She didn't say anything about it to me, and I had no idea she harbored feelings like that for me. She's had many different boyfriends over the years.

After that, I started to notice a shift in Sara. She wanted to spend even more time alone with me, and oddly enough, more alone time with just Josh. On one of these nights, she tried to kiss me. Now, I have no problem with someone being gay. I have many other friends who are, but I am not, and everyone knows it. I like guys way to much. I told her this and she went crazy. Told me I was a lying cunt, that I was leading her on, and that I had to kiss her back because she said so. I told her no, I didn't, and I didn't lead her on. She left shortly after to meet up with Rob and Josh while I took care of my son. I didn't really think anything of it until Rob came over, saying Sara kicked him out of the house because she wanted to talk to Josh alone.

I filled Rob in on what had happened, what Heather said, and my feelings. He sensed something weird was going on. I got Heather to come over to watch my son while Rob and I went back to their apartment to confront her. We found her in bed with Josh. Naturally both Rob and I were upset. Rob and I just left and he crashed on my sofa for the night, though I don't think either of us really did much sleeping.

The next day, I broke up with Josh and Rob broke up with Sara. Rob ended up moving back in with his father and just cut ties with Sara and Josh completely. Sara blamed me for the ending of her relationship with Rob and vowed to make my life a living hell. She kept her apartment in the same complex as mine and tried very hard to get me in trouble with our landlord. At random times, the landlord would stop by saying I had a noise complaint against me or said that someone complained about some awful smell coming from my place. After the third time he came by saying someone saw a rat coming out of my door did he realize someone was just trying to cause me trouble. (I had told him, but he has a job to do I guess.)

When Sara learned that wasn't working, she started calling my home phone and cellphone at random times. Never said anything, and all the calls were Restricted, but I knew it was her. From my window I could see into her apartment and always saw her looking out at my window while on the phone. On the phone the exact times my phones were ringing. I quickly changed my phone numbers and that was the end of that day. No one besides my mom and work had them and neither cared for Sara much after learning what she had done.

When she realized she couldn't get a hold of me via phone, she took to blowing up my email and Myspace/Facebook. Obviously it didn't take me long to block her on that.

However, this takes the cake. Apparently she had a copy of my key. I don't know how she got it, I never gave her a copy. I figured Josh might have given her one when they started to be sexually active or else she just stole Josh's and made her own copy. She took to entering my house when I wasn't home. At first I started noticing little things disappearing or being moved. My bills were no longer on the kitchen counter, but on the dining table. My favorite shirt had gone missing. Cordless phone across the room from where I last remember setting it down. I thought I was simply losing it and misplacing things. (I am a bit scattered brain, but not that much.) This went on for two or three weeks until bigger things were missing. My son's DVD player, my keyboard, cellphone charger, bath soap, towels, and even my son's baby blanket were all taken.

Naturally, I did the most logical thing and called the police and landlord. Landlord changed out my locks ASAP and the cops agreed to talk to Sara. They said they wouldn't be able to do anything unless she let them in and/or admitted it, but they would still try to talk to her. And this is what I was told:

They knocked on the door. She opened it wide enough for them to see the wall behind her. On this wall was hundreds of photos of me, either alone at work or at the store or with my son at the park, store, etc. It wouldn't have been so creepy if it weren't for the fact that she wrote in big letters with red paint "Die [my name] you fucking cunt." It covered some of the photos and the wall.

The police were able to search her place. They found journals full of her writing saying how she wanted to kill me, how she was going to do it, and other fucked up things. She had my work schedule written on her calender (not that it was hard to guess it, it was the same every week) and on a certain day she had it circled and marked as "Kill Day." Police found an unregistered gun and a huge knife. She was arrested.

I promptly moved out and back into my mother's house. I found a new job and changed my appearance. I cut off contact with all our mutual friends (not tha twe had many) and found a new job. I haven't seen or heard from her in 3 years now. For all I know, she is still in jail. I just count my lucky stars.
  
---
by reddit user babyhugbears via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet 

Let's Not Meet: Roommate Wanted: Female Only

This is a popular story with my family and most of my friends.

Amanda is my brother's girlfriend. At the time of this story, she was looking for her first apartment and moving out from her parents' house. Her and my brother didn't want to move in together since they had only dated for a few months. She opted instead to search for a roommate online. Browsing Craigslist, she found an ad titled something like "Roommate Wanted: Females Only." This sort of thing was common since the area she was looking in was mostly young professionals.

The listing was for a room in a house for about $225 a month, which was quite cheap compared to the most places listed. The occupant listed herself as a 23 year old college student that wasn't comfortable with living with any males. The other roommate would have their own room and attached bathroom. So far, Amanda was into this place. However, the listing only had a single photo from outside the property. Amanda sent an email wanting to meet the occupant and tour the house. Within 30 minutes, she receives an email back with all the details and time to stop by. The girl worked late hours and wanted Amanda to stop by at 8pm.

When Amanda arrives, there is a handwritten note on the front door saying "Door broken, use back door." Walking around the house, it looks nice but slightly unkempt: tall grass, weeds, dusty windows, etc. Still no alarms for Amanda though. When she knocks on the backdoor and an older man opens the door. At first Amanda thinks she has the wrong house but the man reassures her and says that the occupant (I forget the name) was out and he was the landlord. The occupant asked him to meet Amanda since she was working late. He seemed pleasant and offered to show her around.

Alarms start going off but aren't at red alert yet. First, the guy was clearly in his 40's, unshaven, and looked like he lived in his car. Also, only the kitchen light was on. As they walked around the house, Amanda noticed one huge red flag: No furniture. Nothing. The landlord was polite about answering questions but seemed irritable to keeping lights on for too long, rushing her around and only letting her look at rooms for a few moments. There was a single room that the landlord wouldn't open, telling her that it was the occupant's room and he didn't want to invade her privacy. As they walk down the hallway into the living room, she notices the front door has a plank nailed across it. "Broken" for sure.

Amanda's creep-o-meter is started to ding so she decides to wrap up the walk-through and leave but trying to polite. As she's giving the guy her "thanks for the showing" bit, he perks up and states that he forgot to show her the basement. It's recently furnished and would be a great rec room...and she should take a look down there. At the time, Amanda and the landlord are standing in the small hallway between the front living room and the back kitchen. In this little hallway was the basement door. When he opens the door, it opens outward to create something of a barrier between Amanda and the backdoor. The basement is pitch black. He smiles, motions down the stairs, and says "Ladies first."

What happens next is nothing more than a stroke of luck. Amanda get a text just as some random person parks in front of the house. Thinking on her feet, she pretends it's a phone call and answers her phone. "Hey! Yeah, are you here? I'll come out from around back and let you in. It's great, you have to see it." With a motion of confidence, she excuses herself around the landlord and walks out of the back door. She says the guy just looked at her like he was confused. Once outside, she sprinted to her car and sped like hell out of there.

When Amanda got home, she told her mother and my brother everything. Cops were called, they took her statement, and went to investigate. The Craigslist post had been removed.

--

EPILOGUE

The house had been foreclosed over six months earlier and the property had been abandoned. When the police investigated, they found that the closed room the "landlord" didn't want her to look in was where the man had been staying. There was a pile of old dirty blankets, rotten food, and empty gallon jugs everywhere. More creepy was he had plastered ripped up pages from porno mags on ALL the walls in the room (where do they even find porno mags!?).

The really scary part of this was the basement. The man had tied a thin piece of fishing twine at about shin level across the stairs about halfway down. The basement was empty except another pile of old blankets, a broom handle wrapped in leather belts, and a small box with a few rolls of assorted tape (duct, electric, etc).

Amanda ended up not moving in.
  
---by reddit user ScarsAndStripes via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet  

Let's Not Meet: My Artist Friend

So this story happened to me when I was 15 years old. I was a super lonely kid; my home life was in shambles, mom was cheating on dad and told me about it, and I had just started at a new high school the year prior where I didn't know anyone.

Creating art quickly became my biggest coping mechanism... to this day I still love to draw.

I discovered the website DeviantArt around this time, and started submitting my drawings every day. Through this, I made some friends online of all ages. Some very talented people were giving me positive feedback on my work, and this really inspired me. In my deep depression, I felt like dA was a safe haven of like-minded people who appreciated one another. For the first time in a long time, I belonged somewhere... I spent many hours talking to some regulars on the site. Even now, 10 years later, a few of them are still in my life and I cherish their friendship.

But this story is about someone who I never want to meet, EVER again.

DeviantArt also allows writers to submit their stories/poetry to the site. One day, I was on the front page and a poem caught my eye. It was more of an angry rant, full of weird twisted imagery and anti-Christian subtext. Sounds stupid I know, but it was actually quite well written and funny (at least to my 15 year old self). Being a very angry, depressed high schooler, I was drawn in and decided to check this artist out.

Not only was he a prolific writer, with maybe 100 poems and stories on his site, but this man was a very talented visual artist as well. He created amazing illustrations of weird, funny creatures. Some of them were a little sexual, like naked women, but most of them were humorous or gross. His name was Tom. The combination of Tom's writing and visual art skills intrigued me. Even though he was 30 years old, I decided to send him a private message.

We bonded. Soon we began to talk on AIM. I would look forward to talking to Tom every day, and came straight home after school to connect with him. Chatting for 5 hours was a daily thing for us. In hindsight my family probably wondered what I was doing, but they never said anything. Anyway, isolating myself in my room wasn't abnormal at this point. I was so grateful for my artistic friend. I could be as dark and confident as I wanted when we talked... I unloaded a lot of my pain onto him, and he told me about his troubles too. Tom even started to write poetry about me, HAPPY poetry! It made me feel very special, because I had softened this angry dude's heart with my friendship (so I thought). He was reliable, always online whenever I came home...

After maybe 3 weeks of talking, Tom asked for my phone number because he "wanted to hear my voice." I was extremely uncomfortable with this and reluctant. He insisted, and gave me his number to call. Fearing I would lose a friend who was so important to me, I finally gave in.

I should mention that I'm 23 now, and I'm still a shy person... but at 15, I was painfully awkward and detested phone calls. My heart was racing and I was shaky and sweaty as the phone rang.

Tom picked up. "Hello?" my voice sounded shaky. Tom spoke.. I knew his age, but to my relief he sounded like a teenage boy. This made me feel less uncomfortable, but still weirded out. I had no idea what to talk about, and for some reason I felt like crying. Tom and I spoke for a bit. He laughed at the awkward things I said, so I guess the conversation went alright. Honestly I can't remember what we talked about... all I remember is that he barely spoke at all.

We got off the phone and talked online more. He said how happy he was to hear my voice. I was still pretty upset, but glad that I didn't disappoint him. I hoped he wouldn't ask me to call him again, because it was such a stressful experience. But I had poured so much time into talking to this man, that I was willing to be uncomfortable to preserve our friendship. My self esteem was nonexistent.

The next day, Tom wanted me to call again. On the phone I could hear him breathing heavily. He was masturbating. I talked about my day at school, some random thoughts... he stayed silent apart from the breathing. Then when I was mid-sentence, he hung up on me.

When I asked him what happened over AIM, he told me I wasn't talking about anything sexy, something along those lines. I apologized and felt a total sense of failure. The conversation then turned sexual. I told him that I was a virgin (in reality I hadn't even had a real first kiss). Tom was overjoyed by this. Now I really had his attention.

At this point it was May. Our relationship progressed to the point that I let him jerk off to my voice, and even sent him some pictures of me in my underwear when he asked. I had no idea what I was doing, but felt like I had to obey him or he wouldn't be my friend. He started to write poetry about taking a girl's virginity. To his fans on DeviantArt, they were just fictional poems about a fictional girl... but I knew they were really for me. This both thrilled me and made me queasy.

My 16th birthday was coming up in June. Tom and I constantly talked about how badly we wanted to see each other... in the back of my mind, I really missed the days before everything got so sexual. I told him there was no way I could ever fly to Florida, where he lived. Tom insisted on seeing me before my 16th birthday. Eventually we picked a date... he found a hotel near my family's house that was relatively affordable, and even bought tickets to fly out. The plan was that I would skip school that day, and spend the day with him so he could take my virginity. I can't remember if he was even going to stay more than 1 day, to be honest. Before we said our good-nights, Tom wrote, "Will you let me get your ass, too." Not a question, a statement.

I came home from school one day, and my mom was extremely solemn. She told me she knows about Tom. Apparently I had remained signed-in on AOL, but I think she actually got my password to see what I was up to. I began to cry, and defended Tom at first... but then I admitted I was terrified of him. I was so ashamed that my mom saw our sexual conversations, but she hugged me and told me "He won't be coming, I promise." She emailed Tom which really fucking spooked him. Tom began to yell at me, and blow up my phone. He told me he spent $500 on the plane tickets that he couldn't get back. I never picked up any of his calls... he wrote me tons of emails in all caps (I have a few of them saved). He wrote angry, violent poetry on dA about how I betrayed him. I was devastated and hated myself.

On the day Tom was supposed to come visit, I stayed at my best friend's house which was miles away in a totally different community. My mother gave our apartment building a photo of Tom, to make sure nobody let him in. I was totally paranoid that he would pop up for a while after that, but he never did. In fact... I didn't hear from him at all. He stopped submitting any art or poetry.

Over a month went by, and Tom was still MIA. My family and I went to Canada for a music festival... life was slowly going back to normal, and my guilt was fading. Suddenly in our hotel room, my phone rang. It was Tom. I tried to pick up, and I can't remember why, but for some reason since we were in Canada I couldn't talk to him. I think it's because I had an American service provider, or something? In any event, he left me messages. My memory of this is very foggy (he may have actually been texting me, I can't remember at all). A few days later we took a train back to the US, and as soon as we crossed the border I sent him a text. I apologized for what happened and explained that I was in Canada... but that I missed him and I hoped he could forgive me.

Tom told me the reason he was gone for so long. He said that on the day he was supposed to come see me, he got very drunk and tried to kill himself. He stabbed himself all over, including his stomach, left hand, and legs. Feeling last minute regret, he called his mother and she called the police. He told me that his whole apartment was considered a biohazard from all the blood, and after he recovered he spent time in the psych ward. Tom had mutilated himself so badly that the hospital had to amputate his leg and he lost 2 fingers. He told me this was my fault.

I was utterly speechless and my blood ran ice cold. I refused to believe him... but lo and behold, he uploaded some pictures of himself on DeviantArt. His leg was amputated above the knee, and he was missing fingers. I had seen previous photos of him... this was my friend alright.

It's hard to explain how I feel about this situation. I feel very sad for Tom, but I also understand that this wasn't my fault. I was a very lonely child, and desperate for a friend. Tom was a schizophrenic man and a pedophile, as was later revealed by his explicit poetry about little girls. Eventually he was banned from DeviantArt, and I never talked to him again after age 16. A few years ago I looked him up and found his profile on a different site... admittedly I was googling him to see if he was still alive. In his profile picture, he was next to a young woman with his hand over her mouth. It looked like he found someone who was willing to visit him after all.

So Tom... I hope you're okay, but please... lets not ever meet.

P.S. If I take this story down, it's because I'm afraid.
  
---by reddit user meowcat91 via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet  

Let's Not Meet: Stepdaughter for Sale

This actually happened to me when I was a kid. I’m a girl and was 8 years old when this happened. I grew up with my mom and my stepfather in an apartment in Chicago at the time.

So you know, my stepfather was a crackhead. He used, I’m pretty certain, every day. He was a pretty good father, considering he was high all the time. I felt way more close to him than I ever was with my mom. We spent tons of time together, after his morning “walks”.

His habit got really bad. My mother was the only one who could work since he kept getting fired. My mother recently got new furniture, a whole living room set. Two couches, lamps, end tables, rugs, and she even got a new tv. She was pretty proud and happy, mainly because she was able to hide enough money from my stepfather to buy everything.

A few days after she got everything, my mom and I went to Burger King. We came back to the apartment. My mother opened the door and her smile dropped. There was absolutely nothing in the living room. She told me to check my things. My bike, all my video games, my tv, and clarinet were all gone as well. There were quite a few other things gone around the apartment. You already know who was the culprit, my stepfather. Apparently, he owed some people for drugs. He said he had no choice. They said to pay up, or it’ll be everything he loves. As you see, his habit was very, very bad.

Now to the meat of the story. One day, I woke up to my stepfather calling me. It was pretty early, the sun just started to peek into my room. I got up and heard him in the kitchen talking to someone franticly. I couldn’t hear much since my door was closed but I do remember making out a little bit. He said “Man, she’s beautiful!” And “You won’t be disappointed.”

I slipped on my house shoes trying to figure out who he was talking to. I heard one response, but the voice was very deep so I couldn’t tell what was said. It was strange for anyone to be visiting our apartment and especially strange since it was so early. I was tired, confused, and a bit annoyed at being woken up. I opened my door. From it, I have a straight line of sight to the kitchen. I see my stepfather nervously fidgeting, pacing and talking. He saw me and said “Here she is, man.” I stood in my doorway and tried to give him a look like who in the world is he talking to.

He motioned for me to come in. I walk into the kitchen and I see a tall older white man with shades. Looking back, maybe he was late 40’s. He was balding, had a short beard, and he was dressed very nicely. My father said “Here she is, what do you think?” My parents tend to show me off to people for some reason so this wasn’t odd to me. The man looked at me I presume and looked back at my stepfather.

My stepfather had the most nervous smile on his face I have ever seen. My father told me to give a twirl. I was not twirling in front of this strange guy and definitely not this early. So he forcefully turned me. He held my night gown taut so it was fitted against my body and said “Not bad right?” I pushed his hand off me. This was clearly very very strange now. I did not understand what was going on, but I knew something wrong was happening.

The entire time the white man said nothing, just watched me. My stepfather said “You’re going to have to go with him now.” I frowned and asked why, but before I could really start, the white man spoke. He squatted down to my height, smiled, and asked “How old are you?” I said nervously, “I’m 8.” He said “You’re a big girl then. Do you like school?” I said, “I love school.” This little conversation and his smile made me feel a bit at ease.

I look over the man’s shoulder and see my stepfather frowning/glaring at me and it scares me. I have not seen him look like that except at suspicious people to warn them not to mess with him. I keep looking back at my stepfather, trying to answer this man’s questions, knowing I said something wrong from my stepfather’s reaction. The white man glances back at my stepfather while still squatted down to my height. My stepfather looks away in fear. The man stands up, looks back down to me and says “it was nice talking to you. You’re a very smart young lady. Now, go on back to bed.”

I was not used to anyone giving me orders except at school or my parents, but I knew not to question it and walked off to my room. I looked back and he was watching me. I stood inside my room at the door and looked back again. He said “Close your door and go back to bed.” I looked at him and he smiled back and motioned for me to go on. I closed the door and sat in my bed.

I hear the man say something to my father in an angry voice. I hear my stepfather begging very loudly “Please, please take her!” The kitchen has a door leading to the outside staircase. My window was pretty close to it. I hear the kitchen door open so I slid my window open a crack. I hear my stepfather repeatedly begging please. The man yells “She’s a fucking kid!” I try to peek out to see the staircase. There were two large men standing there near the door and on the stairs.

The white man punches my stepfather presumably, I can’t really see the whole scene. I hear a thud inside and outside, I suppose from him falling. The white man and the two men walk down the stairs to a nice black car parked in the alley. I hear the kitchen door close and soon after my bedroom door opens. My stepfather is drenched in sweat and smiles at me sheepishly and says casually to not tell my mother. I just stared at him. He then asked did I want to go to the park. I said no. He walked away and left the apartment.

I sat there trying to put the pieces together. It clicked that my own stepfather was trying to sell me, more than likely to pay off a huge drug debt. Then everything else fell into place. The strange oddly friendly white man considered taking me. Why would he take me? What would he do to me? Where would I go? What about my mom? Feelings of fear, anger and sadness flooded me. I laid there and cried for hours thinking about how close I was to never seeing my mom again and that my stepfather planned to do this to me.

My mother eventually leaves him some years later. I still haven't told her about it, afraid she might lose it. I’m 26 now and it’s still hard to think about it without crying.



---by reddit user linxminx via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet

Let's Not Meet: Disturbing Drawings

Last summer I worked at a water park slash hotel slash golf course timeshare place. I was hired to draw caricatures in the hotel lobby which was kind of a cool job. It paid really well. I fairly liked it. People like having their picture drawn. I drew a lot of caricatures over the summer and I'll tell you what - You meet all kinds of people.

Here's the story. One slow day two ladies, fat, ugly, missing teeth and absolutely foul smelling walked by with like a ten year old boy and the two ladies were immediately excited about the idea of having their kid drawn. I think they were sisters. They seemed basically normal. Chatted with me, watched me do a drawing and waited for me to finish the one I was working on..

Anyway it came their turn and we started talking again. People would usually have me do a theme to their drawing like, oh, draw us as power rangers or whatever. I asked the kid what he wanted his picture to be about. He didn't say anything and his mother stooped down so he could whisper in her ear. She relayed to me that he wanted to be drawn as Godzilla. I was like oh okay wait do you want to be drawn like fighting Godzilla, riding on his back or what? He spoke to his mother again. No - he wanted to be Godzilla. Okay. Sure like whatever. So he sat down in my chair and I tried talking to him about what he liked, did he play sports - just random stuff I would talk to people about to keep them entertained while I drew. He didn't say anything which is fine like some kids are shy but this kid actually seemed kind of disturbed like there was a reason he couldn't talk or something. That I can't say for sure but these two ladies basically spoke for him and really enjoyed talking to me while they watched me draw. At one point the mother of the kid got really close to me and said she wanted to talk to me when I was done. I was like - um. Okay... Her breath reeked so badly.

I finished the drawing of the kid as Godzilla and he said thank you which surprised me and the two ladies laughed and looked over the picture and liked it a lot. The kid and one of the ladies left for the water park and the mother stayed behind to talk to me as she asked. She said something like 'okay now I'd like you to draw another picture but this one is sort of personal.'

A little concerned, I asked her to explain. She pulled out her phone and started scrolling through pictures. She got uncomfortably close to me, had a big smile on her face and said "ready?". I nodded, really weirded out and looked down at her phone to see a picture of a stillborn child that looked as if it had been dipped in blood.

"Beautiful isn't he?" the lady said, "I called him my little monkey. BECAUSE HE LOOKED LIKE A MONKEY!!!" And she laughed really really loudly.

I was speechless. I sort of slapped my hand to my forehead. It took me a while to respond but all I could think to say was, "All...children are beautiful." trying hard to mask how fucking shocked I was. The lady then said, "Well. I'd like you to draw him as a monkey." I didn't say anything. She scrolled to another picture on her phone. Another premature baby with tubes up its nose - and the woman said, "And this was my little seal. He lasted four hours. Doesn't he look like a little seal?" Of course she wanted him drawn as a seal. Holy shit. So bizarre. Her breath reeked of alcohol and smoke and just general odor and she was laughing in my face.

Without asking, the lady sent the pictures to my cell phone because my number was on the sign by the easel. I was so shocked that I could hardly put a sentence together. I said something to the effect of 'maybe' because I couldn't help but feel bad for her. She said "Great! We're here till Thursday!" And walked away.

I called off 'till Friday.


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by reddit user SmartAlekhine via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet

Let's Not Meet: Intruder

This is the first time I've ever written this down and even though it was over 6 years ago, it has changed my personality forever.

This isn't a made up story, it genuinely happened and was actually featured in my local paper but i don't like the idea of people knowing who i am or finding me, so i wont link it.

I'll try keep this as short as i can while giving most of the details. A little background for context first of all, I'm a female and was 23 at the time of the incident. I was living in the house my parents left me after they died, my dad died when i was 5 from a stomach ulcer and my mum died of womb cancer when i was 22. I'm an only child with no grandparents or other family and so as you can imagine it was pretty devastating to lose my mother and i wasn't ready to sell her home (my childhood home) yet, so i was living there alone at the time.

The way the house was situated was pretty perfect of any criminal behavior i guess because although it wasn't isolated (neighbours a stone throw away on both sides) it was surrounded by very tall tree's at the front and backed onto a forest.

So anyway on with what happened- The first odd thing (that didn't seem odd at the time) was that someone was ringing the doorbell a lot very early in the morning that day, at first i ignored it because i was still grieving and depressed so didn't really care about the outside world at that time. Anyway the person seemed to leave after 5 or 6 rings and i fell back to sleep.

Cut to the afternoon, the door bell rings again and this time i cant ignore it because the man outside could see me through the blurry glass door in my hallway. So, i answer and this homeless looking man with a huge backpack on the ground starts asking me about my home. He obviously wasn't part of any company so thinking he's an oddball trying to see how easy it would be to rob my house, i politely say I'm not interested and close the door. He stands there for ages but i see him eventually leave and i brush it off.

Twenty minuets later he's back. Thank god i locked my door because i see him walk straight up to the door and start trying to open it. I shout through the glass at him and he looks shocked and says he knew my mother...I just ignore him and call the police straight away after checking all the doors and windows are locked. While I'm still on the phone i hear him using what sounds like tools and getting scared he's about to break through the door, i stand by my back door ready to run.

About 30 seconds later i see my front door shudder and slightly open, i panic, drop the home phone (smart i know..) and run as fast as i can down my garden into the woods, onto the path and run to a neighbouring street. I don't see him anywhere so i assume he's robbing my home and that's all he wanted, slightly relieved, i knock on a strangers door at random and ask them to call the police again.

The police arrive to meet me in the living room of this stranger what seems like hours later but was probably only forty minuets. I go to the police station and find out exactly what happened was a lot creepier than i had imagined.

When the police got to my home, the man was gone but he left a host of finger prints and evidence and because he was know to the police, he was picked up the next day hiding in a family camp site. He wasn't too bright obviously and also had a long list of mental health problems (everything from schizophrenic to manic depressive). He used a long screw like tool to break my door lock (by hammering it through) and once inside he left huge carving knife marks all along the hallway, as-well as muddy hand prints and creepy carved out words on all 4 of the bedroom doors (which were almost all spelled incorrectly) like the word "bitch" as-well as the phrase "gut you".

It might not sound like much, but i can't explain just how scary it is to see slice marks meters long covering your hallway. He also left a large knife stabbed into one of my bedroom doors, (finger prints and all). He didn't steal anything as far as I'm aware but he had actually left a note for me that morning when i hadn't answered my door, although i never saw it because it was under a plant pot. His spelling was atrocious so it was hard to even fully understand what the note said but he proved he knew my full name, age and that i lived alone.

Frustratingly i wish i could say he went to prison for a long time but in the end i think he only got around 3 years even though he was wanted for other petty crimes and a more serious case of rape. I've never seen him again and since sold my old family home but i still can't bring myself to answer the door to strangers to this day.
  
---by reddit user Rachel-L via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet