I too lived in a murder house. Ours had been the owner of the house before our landlords bought it, and she was murdered by her daughter's boyfriend, according to our neighbors. And because the post office will keep sending you mail long after you'd died, we even knew her name: Alice. And, strangely enough, there…

my fiancée has always been a big fan of Paul Rudd since his Clueless days, so she loves to think of the resemblance*

This story is like 9 different stress dreams combined

Spoken like someone that has no idea what goes into live performance.

This isn't true at all. Acoustics can make or break you. For pop singers, they're in a much worse bind, as their particular "brand" of voice is in part due to the amplification and sound engineering used to produce their recordings.

She Clarksonizes songs, indeed. That's one of the difference between a good singer and a great singer, being able to take a song and make it your own. I don't regularly listen to Kelly Clarkson unless one of her songs comes on the radio while I'm driving, but every time I hear her, there's a certain raw honesty…

Whoa. I forgot that she can SING.

As a Futurama fan, I appreciate your use of the word "jimjams". Also - scariest thing ever!

I can't win this contest obviously but wanted to throw in my scary story, for your amusement and holy shit pleasure:

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHhhh!!!!!! FUCK! For some reason, that was the FIRST story to really, really get to me. I got to this part and I literally slapped both my hands over my mouth in horror! "its bones were breaking and splintering backwards and forwards at the joints"

This is why I never go any where or do anything.

That is insanely creepy and sadly beautiful. I used to sleep on long trips wedged into the back window of our '68 Dodge Polara* and I can easily imagine seeing something like that and being the only one.
*don't call retroactive CPS

As I am reading this it is 01:35 AM. And I need to pee. I've made huge mistake.

Another one to add to the Halloween fun!

You know those long stretches of highway that are just woods on both sides? My sister told me that was where killers hid their dead bodies. So every time we would drive late into the night, on some trip, I'd lay on the floor of the backseat, because I was scared to look out the window — for fear I'd see a ghost LIKE…

I truly don't know why I subject myself to this thread every year.

So it's not a ghost, but I was in Vegas with friends about seven years ago. I stayed one extra night so I wouldn't have to take a redeye, and I could get a shared room to myself for one night. In the middle of the night, someone clicks open the door, I ask "hello??!?" groggily, I hear a mumbled "sorry" and the door…

I pride myself on my car trip taking patience. I never rush, I take frequent breaks, and I try to generally enjoy the car trip as much as is possible. Sometimes this leads to overnight stays in random hotels in Connecticut.

This was a simple story, but it was told perfectly.

Context: I am recounting an experience that I had about 8 years ago when I was a sophomore in college in West Chester, PA. I am recounting it to the best of my ability but some details might have been lost due to the time passing and the fact that I try not to think about this all that often.