That is mine! Unfortunately Jezebel didn’t include the update. The incident happened just over a month ago. Since then, my daughter has repeatedly (and nonchalantly) said “mummy has a shadow on her back”. She’s not precise about verb tense so I think/hope it’s past tense.

My favorite one was the one where the mom thought it was her two year old’s cold little body crawling all over her, only it wasn’t. Really did have Shirley Jackson vibes.

I’ve not wanted to be too hard on Jezebel since the big staff turnover, but, well, this assemblage of stories is markedly worse, in terms of selection, than any previous year. I think most years at least one story is going to be creepypasta, but not so overtly as the two (at least) I caught here! The story about the…

Whew, I’m glad I got to the page before it was annoying re-arranged into a slideshow.

I can’t remember how many years ago this was but someone else once posted in this contest with something similar that happened to them! They were on a yoga retreat in the desert, woke up to drumming and they felt angry but also scared, like whatever it was wanted to lure them out. Might have been the same kind of thing

I know it’s mostly coincidence, but I just lost my mother last week after a long illness and then sharp decline. I also was traveling back and forth from Connecticut to New York and it was a lonely, sad drive. She also tried to end her life a couple years ago after a series of physical health and relational…

I don’t want to assign my own impressions to your story, and I’m Anishinaabe so I feel a little more comfortable saying this than maybe the average bear, but when you described the drum circle and the irrational, seething anger you felt, I suspect that the camp ground is on former tribal land, and more likely a spot…

Please tell me your RAs were fired. That is ridiculous. I’m glad you are OK

I grew up in a really small town in the early 90s. It was the kind of town where there was still a local dairy and you could get deliveries from it for milk, butter, ice cream, etc. It was kind of a sign your family was upper middle class if you got these deliveries instead of buying the cheaper stuff from the grocery…

The house on Kelly Street

In the August of 2012 my dad killed himself. Earlier in the year he’d had open heart surgery and was never quite the same after. Then he broke his jaw and a business partner screwed him over in a major way. He’d struggled with mental health issues for years but all those things combined broke his spirit. In July it…

I have a story from this summer- I’ve been waiting for this post to come so I can share it.

I love this story! I have one caveat:

“The electrical grid at my parents’ house can only be described as “schizophrenic”.”

Nope.  It could be described in a myriad of other ways.  Erratic, unpredictable, inconsistant, unusual... the list goes on, but schizophrenic shouldn’t be one of them.

I posted this a few years ago, but I don’t think more than 2 people read it. So here it is again!

Three things to know about my dad:

The Watcher

I submitted this last year, but it got buried.

This happened just last Thursday, actually, and I’m still shaken up.

I grew up in a small town in central Illinois surrounded by miles of corn fields in every direction, broken only by the interstate to the east. Class sizes hovered around 80, and it wasn’t unusual to invite half the class to parties. This was especially true for kids who lived on the outskirts of town or out in the…

Pardon the repeat from last year, it’s my only weird experience.