Speaker 1: She screamed, it don't turn off the light. That it
Speaker 1: was full on freaking out from the outside of the boat,
Speaker 1: well on the boat, but on the outside part of
Speaker 1: the cabin. The light flickered back on, completely swallowed up
Speaker 1: by the dark sea all around us. Someone had clogged
Speaker 1: the toilet, and instead of fixing it, we collectively decided
Speaker 1: to use the bucket with the rope and then just
Speaker 1: slid it into the water, stuffing the toilet paper into
Speaker 1: the yellow plastic bag from the grocery store. I could
Speaker 1: still get some cell phone signal at that point, I
Speaker 1: remember that much. I looked at it while I was
Speaker 1: half asleep. Everything else was still debated by my own
Speaker 1: stubborn mind. I was trying hard to make me believe
Speaker 1: it never actually happened, that I'll wake up and see
Speaker 1: their dumb messages again on my phone. My name is Edwin,
Speaker 1: and here's a scary story. Eric's dad, the one who
Speaker 1: owned the boat, had told us that the toilet flush
Speaker 1: goes straight into the water. Who knows if that was real,
Speaker 1: but we took his word for it and figured it
Speaker 1: would be the same thing with the bucket. We just
Speaker 1: have to be more careful. I'd gotten sick almost immediately
Speaker 1: once we stepped on that thing the boat. I mean
Speaker 1: just two pills. I think I took the natural one
Speaker 1: first and then the chemical one because it wasn't working.
Speaker 1: I still felt the world twisting and flipping upside down
Speaker 1: every four seconds I was counting. Plus I couldn't ask
Speaker 1: my friends to leave the only room with the bed,
Speaker 1: no matter how tiny it was. When the three of
Speaker 1: them decided to go in there to hang out. It
Speaker 1: was the only normal place in the boat with furniture
Speaker 1: that wasn't made completely out of solid wood or rusted metal.
Speaker 1: But they were laughing and joking around as if everything
Speaker 1: was normal. The next thing, I remember that it came
Speaker 1: in talking about what a waste of space Richard was.
Speaker 1: Waste of space, she said, and I started laughing at
Speaker 1: that right away. Then she said that he had dropped
Speaker 1: the anchor, like literally dropped it, because the chain went
Speaker 1: all the way down. I knew it was serious then,
Speaker 1: but I still couldn't process what it meant. At the time,
Speaker 1: we were supposed to be out there for the evening.
Speaker 1: We had been joking about catching our own fish, because
Speaker 1: we brought sandwiches just in case no one caught anything,
Speaker 1: not that anyone actually tried. At least no one was
Speaker 1: going to have to wash the frying pans. But then
Speaker 1: it stormed out and kept yelling at Richard and Eric
Speaker 1: about god knows what. It all blurred together, mixing with
Speaker 1: the tiny waves bumping on the side of the boat,
Speaker 1: my name being shouted among them. I rolled out of
Speaker 1: bed and stepped out. All the lights were off. Don't
Speaker 1: turn off the light, I heard from the outside before
Speaker 1: the lights flickered on very I shouted toward the window.
Speaker 1: There were windows all around that tiny cabin of the boat,
Speaker 1: and yet I couldn't see her. I could tell something
Speaker 1: was off, though. Suddenly something startled me from the side window.
Speaker 1: Hands against the window, banging on it hard as they're
Speaker 1: trying to break the glass. We had worked on that
Speaker 1: thing together, all of us, Daddy, Richard, Eric, It was
Speaker 1: our summer project, and knew it's every corner except well,
Speaker 1: we didn't know how to fix it. It made it look nice, though, still.
Speaker 1: Something about hearing them hit the glass so hard made
Speaker 1: my blood boil. I yelled out what as it reached
Speaker 1: for the doorknob. Before I even touched it, it swung
Speaker 1: wide open. Slamming against the outer wall. The wind rushed in,
Speaker 1: but with it also came the darkness. I'm not sure
Speaker 1: if anyone else had ever seen anything darker than that,
Speaker 1: A door that opened to a deck against the wall
Speaker 1: of nothing, an emptiness with a texture so heavy that,
Speaker 1: if close enough, wouldn't let you breathe. I tried to
Speaker 1: stay away from it as I walked around the boat
Speaker 1: to the other side of the cabin, expecting to see
Speaker 1: everyone sitting on the deck at the back, maybe cans
Speaker 1: of soda in their hands, maybe the familiar songs of
Speaker 1: Maroon five through Richard's cheap old speaker, though when he
Speaker 1: bought at the swap meat the year before, a gift
Speaker 1: when he never gave away. Five steps in and there
Speaker 1: was nothing but the soft waves tinkling against the boat.
Speaker 1: The orange light bulbs we put in looked nice but
Speaker 1: did a terrible job against the darkness. Now I could
Speaker 1: see were dark lumps a few yards in front of me.
Speaker 1: I was about to shout out that is name when
Speaker 1: I heard the door slamming on the other side of
Speaker 1: the boat. I rushed over and watched as Steada was
Speaker 1: opening and slamming. The door shut over and over again.
Speaker 1: She stood completely still, looking at me with those wide
Speaker 1: brown eyes she would make when she would tell me
Speaker 1: one of her guys stories. They were large and un blinking.
Speaker 1: That what the hell? I yelled, walking over to her
Speaker 1: to grab the doorknob, But as it got closer, I
Speaker 1: realized that it wasn't there day. Looking back, her mouth
Speaker 1: was whiter, and her ears were large, her teeth yellowed
Speaker 1: and dark between them. Something about her hair reminded me
Speaker 1: of the pine needles we gathered on our gutters, the
Speaker 1: same ones that were piled outside that very bulu cabin
Speaker 1: in layers. They had been thick enough for an apossum
Speaker 1: to have made its home there, had its litter, and
Speaker 1: then come back to die. She had stopped slamming the
Speaker 1: door by this point and was looking right at me,
Speaker 1: her head beginning to drop down enough for me to
Speaker 1: lose her eyes. I took a step back, but she
Speaker 1: rushed at me with impossible speed. Her cold hands gripped
Speaker 1: my arms as she pushed me back toward the railing
Speaker 1: that I knew wouldn't hold us both. She was yelling
Speaker 1: something I couldn't decipher, an angry hiss coming from her
Speaker 1: entire body, anywhere but her own mouth. I grabbed her
Speaker 1: arm and twisted it, and then half of her body
Speaker 1: went over the railing, and then the rest of it.
Speaker 1: I heard no splashing, just a sudden PLoP into the water,
Speaker 1: and then silence, broken only by bubbles rising to the top.
Speaker 1: I held out her name and confusion, though I knew
Speaker 1: it wasn't her, I ran across the deck of the boat,
Speaker 1: yelling out for the guys, Richard and Eric, but there
Speaker 1: was no response. I walked around the boat, my breath
Speaker 1: now made up of soft screams as it looked for
Speaker 1: them and the emergency vests we had to buy for
Speaker 1: our registration, the last thing to pay aside from fuel
Speaker 1: before we could take it out to the water. There
Speaker 1: were three empty hooks but the only vest, and in
Speaker 1: a panic, I turned to my left and saw the
Speaker 1: dark lumps on the deck by the orange lights we
Speaker 1: had set up Eric Richard. I asked, half whispering by
Speaker 1: this point, but the lumps didn't move. I walked up
Speaker 1: to them cautiously, this time, afraid of them going after
Speaker 1: me the way that it did. But once I got
Speaker 1: up to them, I realized they were only the chairs
Speaker 1: they had taken out from the area inside the cabin.
Speaker 1: My heart was racing by this point. I turned around
Speaker 1: quickly to the railing that I had fallen off. I
Speaker 1: thought of throwing the vest overboard, of putting it on
Speaker 1: myself and jumping in there. Thought of everything but the
Speaker 1: fact that whoever I had seen there was not my friend.
Speaker 1: It couldn't have been. But I felt that small seedling
Speaker 1: of a doubt sprouting in my mind that I knew
Speaker 1: how to swim right. Why would she just sink down?
Speaker 1: Did I just not hear her? The boat was small
Speaker 1: compared to the ones we had run into earlier, not
Speaker 1: far from the surface of the water. That's when I
Speaker 1: thought of the boats. We hadn't been too far from
Speaker 1: the shoreline on purpose. We wanted to stay close so
Speaker 1: Eric could get back in time for something he needed
Speaker 1: to do at night. And yet ere we were floating
Speaker 1: in the dark waters, with no lights on the horizon
Speaker 1: or signs of nearby boats. And that's what got me worried.
Speaker 1: What if they had left me. I walked around the
Speaker 1: remaining part of the cabin and back to the door.
Speaker 1: I stepped inside and shut it behind me. I yelled
Speaker 1: out their names. I shouted hello. I pleaded with the
Speaker 1: emptiness on that boat that someone else would be there
Speaker 1: with me. And that's when, from the room I had
Speaker 1: just been in, I watched the figure of a guy
Speaker 1: move away back into that room. I hurried toward it.
Speaker 1: Loneliness was scarier right there. And then I swung open
Speaker 1: that door and found no one else, no other place
Speaker 1: to hide, no other place to leave that room, but
Speaker 1: that door. The confusion lasted just a couple of seconds
Speaker 1: before fear started crawling all over me. Nothing felt right there.
Speaker 1: The wall of darkness outside the boat, even the shapes
Speaker 1: of the chairs, the ones that were outside on the deck,
Speaker 1: it didn't seem to match. I sat on the floor,
Speaker 1: grabbing the sides of my head, wondering what could have
Speaker 1: possibly happened. That's when the voices started again, laughing and
Speaker 1: then shouting my name, being yelled through the glass, tapping
Speaker 1: on the windows non stop, over and over. I would
Speaker 1: hear those voices, and at times I could hear them
Speaker 1: say to open the door. The door in my mind
Speaker 1: was wide open. I heard that of repeating herself about
Speaker 1: Richard and the anchor time and time again, should call
Speaker 1: them a waste of space. I heard myself laughing. I
Speaker 1: could hear Eric yelling for Theddi. It was just all
Speaker 1: too much to bear, so I went outside again. I
Speaker 1: went to the bow of the boat. The anchor was missing.
Speaker 1: We had rigged one up on to the front side
Speaker 1: of it to crank from the front directly. It was
Speaker 1: the one that Thedda had been complaining about in tears.
Speaker 1: By this point, I went back inside and shut the door,
Speaker 1: begging my mind to stop circling around. So I closed
Speaker 1: my eyes and put my hands against my ears to
Speaker 1: hear nothing else. It was still dark out when I
Speaker 1: woke up. I stepped on that cold wooden floor. I
Speaker 1: hadn't brought a jacket. No one had. We weren't going
Speaker 1: to be out for that long. I felt that sickness
Speaker 1: to my stomach again, but no way I was going
Speaker 1: to take more medicine, and instead I just walked over
Speaker 1: to the door. Everything was still on the outside of
Speaker 1: the door. I saw the bright pink shoes at that
Speaker 1: it wore. Next to them were the two pairs of
Speaker 1: sandals we made fun of when Eric and Richard showed
Speaker 1: up with him. In the distance, and I'm saying, really
Speaker 1: far away, I could see the lines of tiny light.
Speaker 1: That was it. I rushed back inside to look for
Speaker 1: my phone, and fortunately I still had battery and signal.
Speaker 1: I looked through my messages, dozens of them, where are you,
Speaker 1: When are you guys coming back? And I kept scrolling
Speaker 1: looking for something about my friends, but there was nothing.
Speaker 1: I walked around the boat again, checking every area of
Speaker 1: it with my phone. I went to the bathroom, to
Speaker 1: the bottom part of the deck and looked under the
Speaker 1: chairs in case I missed something, each bringing further confirmation
Speaker 1: that I was alone. I went to the navigation chair,
Speaker 1: not sure if that thing had a name or not.
Speaker 1: I looked around for anything that looked off, but it didn't.
Speaker 1: I went back to the room, looked at the bags,
Speaker 1: the ones that belonged to them, and uneaten snacks by
Speaker 1: the table, searching through things to see if anything was
Speaker 1: out of place, but it wasn't. I called my mom
Speaker 1: at that moment. I told her where I was and
Speaker 1: what had happened. She was panicked over the whole thing,
Speaker 1: but I could tell she was relieved by the tone
Speaker 1: of her voice. She called back with another man in
Speaker 1: the line, some type of officer, coast guard or something.
Speaker 1: I gave him the information they needed about the location
Speaker 1: and boat or vessel. He called it, and about an
Speaker 1: hour later a light started shining in the distance. They
Speaker 1: came on board, asked if I needed medical help, and
Speaker 1: then asked about my friends, but I had no answers
Speaker 1: for them. They were able to bring the boat back
Speaker 1: to the dock, filed reports with the local authorities that
Speaker 1: his parents showed up first, followed by Eric and Richard's
Speaker 1: parents and some of their family, all of them asking
Speaker 1: what happened and where were they? We found out the
Speaker 1: next day when they washed up ashore on one of
Speaker 1: the nearby islands. A fisherman called in to report Eric first,
Speaker 1: and after a quick search they found there and Richard
Speaker 1: no signs of foul play, and after them hearing my
Speaker 1: account that I had been asleep while I heard the
Speaker 1: shouting on the motion sickness pills, they called it an accident.
Speaker 1: Richard had bruising on his hands and tore so consistent
Speaker 1: with getting tangled up with the anchor chain. They assumed
Speaker 1: Derek had jumped in after him after throwing the life vest.
Speaker 1: It was unlikely for Thedda to also jump in, they
Speaker 1: said so, despite her cause of death being drowning. The
Speaker 1: investigation remained inconclusive. But then there's a part I kept quiet,
Speaker 1: the thing that wasn't theda rushing at me part of
Speaker 1: me that believes something else was on that boat, And
Speaker 1: yet I have to stay with the story, the one
Speaker 1: of the pills for my own sanity. Up next, we
Speaker 1: have an old favorite. This one's called about a Ghost,
Speaker 1: and it's based on a request from Gabby, one of
Speaker 1: our loyal listeners, over on a comment that we received
Speaker 1: in one of our channels. I opened my eyes to
Speaker 1: the golden light of the sunset. Marissa chose the curtains,
Speaker 1: which I thought let too much light into the living
Speaker 1: room at one point, but I had grown to love.
Speaker 1: The light shining in my face. For an instant reminded
Speaker 1: me of the day we got married. I looked over
Speaker 1: to the table in the middle of the living room,
Speaker 1: across the couch and picked up the face down portrait
Speaker 1: of our wedding day. I put it back where it belonged,
Speaker 1: trying not to look at just how happy we used
Speaker 1: to be. Those rays of light highlighting the edges of
Speaker 1: her dark hair. It wasn't always like this, well, she
Speaker 1: had always been this way, Yeah, with the light and everything.
Speaker 1: She had always loved the sunny days, laughter, and places
Speaker 1: where there were crowds. You mentioned a crowded mall or
Speaker 1: a festival, she wanted to go. When we walked around
Speaker 1: and by pure coincidence we saw a group of people
Speaker 1: gathered around a street performer, or because something was being
Speaker 1: given away for free, I would let out an audible sigh.
Speaker 1: She would want to go. I was different, though. I
Speaker 1: like rainy days and sad stories. Sometimes not all the time,
Speaker 1: but there's something about cozying up around a fireplace and
Speaker 1: falling asleep to that instead of the late night comedy shows,
Speaker 1: the ones that Marissa loves to watch. She hated that
Speaker 1: about me. She was the biggest chicken in the world
Speaker 1: and could not manage to get through a simple horror movie,
Speaker 1: even a kid one. And when I convinced her to
Speaker 1: do so, she would make me walk with her everywhere,
Speaker 1: and sometimes in the middle of the night she would
Speaker 1: wake me up to walk with her and wait outside
Speaker 1: the bathroom for her. Yes, she was this afraid of
Speaker 1: things like that. I use it to my advantage when
Speaker 1: we got into arguments if I said something insensitive or
Speaker 1: forgot to take out the trash, and she'd be visibly
Speaker 1: upset and short with me. I would wait until nighttime.
Speaker 1: I would approach her and come in for a hug.
Speaker 1: If I saw her pull away slightly, I would simply
Speaker 1: mention something scary, a thing about a ghost. She'd immediately
Speaker 1: step closer to me and tell me to stop, which
Speaker 1: I would, but then she would stay close to me.
Speaker 1: Soon we would be speaking to each other as we
Speaker 1: normally would. Those were the days. We would laugh about
Speaker 1: it afterward. But I remember when I stopped joking around
Speaker 1: that way as much like the time we had been
Speaker 1: sitting on the couch and she found something on Instagram
Speaker 1: that she absolutely had to show me another cat video.
Speaker 1: I suspected, but no, she said, I absolutely had to
Speaker 1: watch it. It was a video of a cave where
Speaker 1: a small woman was seeing walking around in the dark,
Speaker 1: and then suddenly she got up close to the camera.
Speaker 1: The thing made me flinch. I'll admit that. She laughed,
Speaker 1: and I laughed too, scaring her by telling her that
Speaker 1: I would get her back. Now you won't, she said,
Speaker 1: sticking her tongue out. Do you want me to talk
Speaker 1: about the ghost? Huh? I asked, stop it? She yelled,
Speaker 1: half jokingly. I knew she was serious. Though. For a
Speaker 1: while we had been talking about some strange noises in
Speaker 1: the house. Even though I liked to joke about that
Speaker 1: a lot, I was a little scared of it, also,
Speaker 1: scared of those simple things. I made a face at
Speaker 1: her playing around like children on the couch. I missed
Speaker 1: those moments. We had ordered Chinese food and were eating
Speaker 1: in the living room couch when Marissa mentioned the light
Speaker 1: bulb that had gone out in the kitchen the night before.
Speaker 1: When suddenly, I swear we both heard something fall and
Speaker 1: shatter against the floor on the other side of the house.
Speaker 1: We were the only ones in there, so I grabbed
Speaker 1: the iron stick thing that we kept next to the fireplace.
Speaker 1: I sprinted off the couch and walked up toward the
Speaker 1: dining room area. I could see nothing there. I got
Speaker 1: feel Marissa against my back, her hands gripping my shirt.
Speaker 1: As I stepped closer to the kitchen counter, I saw it,
Speaker 1: a thousand pieces of glass of the light bulb, forming
Speaker 1: a tiny hilt of white dust against the floor. I
Speaker 1: looked back toward Marissa. Her eyes were opened wide. It's
Speaker 1: probably the ghost, I said, trying to ease some of
Speaker 1: the fear I was feeling, but the shiver that ran
Speaker 1: down my back gave it away. I was afraid too.
Speaker 1: I grabbed a dust pan in the hand room we
Speaker 1: had while Marissa stood behind me, holding her own hands
Speaker 1: against her chest. But what was it? She kept asking,
Speaker 1: how could that happen? I had no clue. Obviously, I
Speaker 1: didn't know what to do or what to tell her. More,
Speaker 1: things kept happening, mostly with things being misplaced. Part of
Speaker 1: me believed that this thing that was in our house
Speaker 1: had something to do with the arguments Marissa and I
Speaker 1: were having. I stayed out a little later than usual
Speaker 1: one day at work, less than an hour, but the
Speaker 1: sun had set and Marissa had made a big deal
Speaker 1: about it. I nearly yelled at her for the first
Speaker 1: time since we had met, but I held my anger back,
Speaker 1: simply throwing my jacket against a chair in the kitchen
Speaker 1: area as hard as I could. She was visibly scared
Speaker 1: and literally ran away from me, leaving the sturf for
Speaker 1: burning on the pan. I ran up to it and
Speaker 1: turned it off. The steam was turning to dark smoke
Speaker 1: when it placed the oversized lid on it. When the
Speaker 1: pan stopped crackling, I could hear Marissa sobbing in the bedroom.
Speaker 1: Our arguments were never like that, but now, whenever something
Speaker 1: came up, I would say or do something that would
Speaker 1: make it worse. Very unlike me, she would do the
Speaker 1: same things, bring up things that I had been doing
Speaker 1: forever and finding a fault with them. That was tired
Speaker 1: of it. She was tired of it, and it had
Speaker 1: been this way for months. Sometimes the only way to
Speaker 1: stay sane as a couple was to simply not talk
Speaker 1: to each other, or to limit our interactions. Not a
Speaker 1: great idea, I know. I walked up to the bedroom
Speaker 1: door that night and got to see her grabbing one
Speaker 1: of the blankets from the closet. I thought it was
Speaker 1: for me to sleep in the living room, something that
Speaker 1: I would do for the first time, but no, she
Speaker 1: walked right past me, ignoring me calling her name. I
Speaker 1: felt that anger once again, the sudden rush to push
Speaker 1: her away from me, to yell at her for being
Speaker 1: so emotional or unreasonable or dumb. So many words came
Speaker 1: across my mind as she disappeared into the hallway. Hate
Speaker 1: was not strong enough to describe my feelings toward her,
Speaker 1: But again I knew these were simply rushes of anger.
Speaker 1: They would go away in a few minutes. That night,
Speaker 1: I felt Marissa get back into bed and turned away
Speaker 1: from me sometime in the middle of the night. Then
Speaker 1: I felt her get up before dawn to get ready
Speaker 1: for work. I kept waking up, adjusting myself over and over,
Speaker 1: but still I refused to turn around to face her
Speaker 1: that anger. There was no way this would last another day.
Speaker 1: It never had, but that other day, when I woke
Speaker 1: up in the living room, Marissa still hadn't come back home.
Speaker 1: The sun had completely set by that time. While I
Speaker 1: was sitting there in the dark, not wanting to or
Speaker 1: unable to turn on the lights to the living room,
Speaker 1: I must have been dozing off when I heard the
Speaker 1: keys against a doorknob. Marissa was picking off her jacket
Speaker 1: when she peeked into the living room to see me.
Speaker 1: She ignored my hello as she walked over to the
Speaker 1: kitchen to drop off some leftovers from wherever she had dined.
Speaker 1: She walked over to the living room, my mind went
Speaker 1: dark with fury. I wanted to scream and destroy the
Speaker 1: useless curtains she had decided on for the living room.
Speaker 1: I wanted to shred them to pieces and then move
Speaker 1: on to the disgusting green chair she picked for the
Speaker 1: living room. Then I wanted to pay her a visit.
Speaker 1: Hold back, I told myself. I took a few deep breaths.
Speaker 1: This was going to go away, and it did. That night,
Speaker 1: Marissa grabbed the blanket and walked over to the living
Speaker 1: room once again without saying a word, and again I
Speaker 1: held back saying what I was thinking. As she settled
Speaker 1: into the couch and I could see her knowing phone
Speaker 1: screens still on, I knew that I wouldn't be able
Speaker 1: to sleep well once again, and it was going to
Speaker 1: be her fault. Sure enough, at around two in the morning,
Speaker 1: I felt her next to me on the bed, too
Speaker 1: much for her. I figured I really didn't want to
Speaker 1: look at her face, and that came as a courtesy
Speaker 1: from those pointless curtains that let all of the light
Speaker 1: from the street lamps outside in. But I needed to
Speaker 1: use a bathroom. I crawled out of the bed, not
Speaker 1: even minding making too much noise, not caring if she
Speaker 1: woke up. I opened the door and stepped out into
Speaker 1: the hallway when something caught my eye. It was a
Speaker 1: light floating in the living room. I rubbed my eyes
Speaker 1: and I felt them adjust to the darkness. It couldn't
Speaker 1: be happening. I stepped closer to it, but it flickered off.
Speaker 1: That's when I saw it, a dark lump resting on
Speaker 1: the couch. I thought of the ghost, the silhouettes. I
Speaker 1: would see the thing that made random noises and move
Speaker 1: things around, and intruder or some type of haunt. My
Speaker 1: face went cold and my chest ran out of air.
Speaker 1: My socks nearly made me slip on the wooden floor.
Speaker 1: As I ran back to my room to grab my phone,
Speaker 1: I turned on the lights of the hallway and then
Speaker 1: the bedrooms. As I stepped inside, I looked over Marissa
Speaker 1: on the bed. There was nobody there, Marissa, I yelled
Speaker 1: out what I heard a voice say from the living room.
Speaker 1: I could hear Marissa moving around over there as she
Speaker 1: asked what is it? With fear in her voice. I
Speaker 1: saw the light of the living room turn on as
Speaker 1: she crawled out of the dark blue blanket, moving her
Speaker 1: hair away from her face. I stood there, frozen. I
Speaker 1: turned my head back toward the bedroom, now with the
Speaker 1: orange lights of the lamp on. What is it? She
Speaker 1: asked again, worried and about to cry. This time, I
Speaker 1: walked toward her with the urge to give her a hug.
Speaker 1: Everything would be all right. I was hugging her tightly
Speaker 1: on that couch when you both heard it, the voice
Speaker 1: from the bedroom, the whispering chance of someone or something
Speaker 1: taunting us. We would get through this, I told her.
Speaker 1: She looked at me through the tears in her eyes.
Speaker 1: She nodded and placed her head carefully against my shoulder
Speaker 1: once again. Our final feature is a remaster of There's
Speaker 1: an Old Lady Who Visits My Dreams. I started writing
Speaker 1: down my dreams after looking one up in a book
Speaker 1: that would tell you the meanings behind them. I remember
Speaker 1: that I met an old lady who would come up
Speaker 1: to me. She would open up her coin purse and
Speaker 1: give me a dollar. Sometimes it would be in quarters,
Speaker 1: sometimes it would be a dollar bill, but I remember
Speaker 1: counting it. It was always exactly one dollar. What happened
Speaker 1: so often that I started looking up the meaning of coins,
Speaker 1: the meaning of money, and the meaning of old people
Speaker 1: in my dreams. The mentioned positivity and wisdom, but it
Speaker 1: surely didn't feel like that. That old lady had no
Speaker 1: eyes and no teeth, and her purple hand and black
Speaker 1: veins would be as cold as ice when she would
Speaker 1: place the money in my hand and close it for
Speaker 1: me into a fist. That feeling still gives me the creeps.
Speaker 1: When I told my friend about it, she said that
Speaker 1: I should start writing these down, to which I replied
Speaker 1: that would be of no use since I would just
Speaker 1: forget most of the dreams right away. She convinced me
Speaker 1: to try anyway, so I grabbed the cheap paper notebook
Speaker 1: and put it next to my bed. I remember that
Speaker 1: night I fell asleep listening to my window fan. I
Speaker 1: woke up suddenly with the noise of cars and honking
Speaker 1: still in my head, for my dreams slowly fading away.
Speaker 1: That's when I wrote down the following entry. My taxi
Speaker 1: driver dropped me off to pick up some flower to
Speaker 1: take for his dead brother. I couldn't say no to
Speaker 1: the pit stop, even though I was in a hurry.
Speaker 1: He gave me a twenty dollars bill and asked me
Speaker 1: to pick them up from the flower shop. There was
Speaker 1: no parking, and then the woman gave me the change
Speaker 1: one dollar. I got to my apartment and he left
Speaker 1: for the cemetery. Now who knew that I could remember
Speaker 1: these things. It's like a whole other world that makes
Speaker 1: no sense. The second morning, I wrote down another entry.
Speaker 1: I'm sitting waiting for my mom at the laundromat, playing
Speaker 1: with a toy gun that shoots rubber bands. It broke
Speaker 1: and I was trying to fix it. The old lady
Speaker 1: comes by and says, well, aren't you a good boy?
Speaker 1: She gives me a dollar, she closes my hand. Another
Speaker 1: woman comes in yelling frantically. Her baby had been taken
Speaker 1: from her car and she was panicking. And so I
Speaker 1: kept writing every morning, sometimes in the dark, writing as
Speaker 1: fast as possible before forgetting what the dream was. And yes,
Speaker 1: the old lady would always be there. After about a month,
Speaker 1: I noticed that the dreams had recurring characters. Sometimes a
Speaker 1: woman yelling for her baby would run into me as
Speaker 1: I was leaving for work, or the same taxi driver
Speaker 1: would pick me up from a meeting. Sometimes I would
Speaker 1: enter the same flower shop, but in the city I
Speaker 1: didn't recognize. Even in some of the weirder dreams with
Speaker 1: impossible scenarios, or with my parents driving me somewhere as
Speaker 1: a child, I would notice the same place. My entries
Speaker 1: became more detailed, sometimes two or three pages long, and
Speaker 1: I got into the habit of recording them on my
Speaker 1: cell phone and then passing them onto paper right away.
Speaker 1: I became obsessed, and these dreams are trying to tell
Speaker 1: me something of this place I didn't know. My friends
Speaker 1: suggested that I stop writing, But now whenever I see
Speaker 1: a yellow cab, I look for the driver's face to
Speaker 1: see if I recognize them. But I know I can't
Speaker 1: stop writing. The unknown city in my dreams is familiar now.
Speaker 1: I know the names of the streets. I see the
Speaker 1: same delivery man and the same old lady over and
Speaker 1: over again. I'm afraid that I've created a different world
Speaker 1: for myself when I sleep living in someone else's life.
Speaker 1: Where is this place? Who are these people? And what
Speaker 1: do they want? Scary Story podcast is written and produced
Speaker 1: by me Edwin Kohar Rubiaz. If you have any old
Speaker 1: favorite stories that you want me to remake, please let
Speaker 1: me know. I'm working on bringing back my old, familiar
Speaker 1: style to the stories, both authentic to my style and
Speaker 1: to what everyone else enjoys. You've been listening for a while,
Speaker 1: you know I really like dark, melancholic and realistic stories
Speaker 1: about things that could happen instead of the typical monsters
Speaker 1: and evil creatures, but I'm always up for experimenting with those.
Speaker 1: If that's something you want to hear, but anyway, let
Speaker 1: me know in the comments or via email at Edwin
Speaker 1: at scarystory dot com. I rarely get to hear from everyone,
Speaker 1: so any signs of life would really help. Thank you
Speaker 1: very much for listening. Keep it scary everyone, See you soon.