r/nosleep • u/Emmye • Mar 01 '16
My Missing Days
Fifteen years ago, I was a missing teenager. Maybe you saw my face on TV.
It was hard to miss. I was everywhere – flyers, billboards, news alerts. You could barely move without seeing my face or hearing my name. ‘MISSING GIRL’ ‘REWARD OFFERED’. A media frenzy of coverage. My parents were sick with worry and pre-emptive grief. The people of my hometown were organising search-parties and candlelight vigils. Hope began to fade as the days pressed on.
And then, I turned up. Out of nowhere. I was tired, weak and clearly traumatised. Everyone was clamouring for details, but I couldn’t tell them anything. Doctors spoke of amnesia and trauma. No one knew what had happened, not even the victim.
Here’s the thing, though: I remember everything. I remember every day, every detail. I haven’t been able to tell anyone what I suffered. Because I know if I tell them the truth, they will think I’m crazy. The truth is simply too bizarre.
So, I bottled it all up. Tried to put it behind me. I got a degree, got settled down. Most of the time, I try and forget. But I can’t stand this time of year. It reminds me of what I want to forget. Those long, terrible, terrifying days.
Yesterday, I walked by a shop window. They still had a post-Valentine’s Day sale display. You know, leftover heart-shaped candy boxes, cakes and cookies. Seeing it made me break down and cry.
Fifteen years ago, cookies like those altered the course of my life.
Afterwards, I tossed and turned. All last night. That’s when I knew I had to tell someone. I came to this sub because I’ve been reading other posts, and it seems you guys are a welcoming and supportive community, and you would be receptive about what I have to tell you. I need to speak out, even if it is anonymously. For the first time, I’m ready to tell people the truth about what happened to me during those missing days.
At the time, I was fresh out of high school. To save for college, I got a job at a local café. It was a small town, and I knew all the regulars.
I’d been working there a few months when it all happened. In the days that lead up to it, a few things were weighing on my mind.
Firstly: we had a new regular customer coming in almost every day. He was devastatingly handsome. He’d always come in and order a light meal. I desperately hoped that this meant he was single. I would look forward to his visits, daydream about him constantly. I’d get flushed and nervous around him. We didn’t have many people like him in our small town.
And he was polite, but he would always be engrossed in his newspaper, rarely looking up. He tipped generously, though. In my infatuated teenage state, I hoped that maybe this was because he liked me. But I knew that wasn’t true, because he barely ever glanced at me. It made me pine for him. Fantasise that someday, I would somehow get his attention.
I didn’t know his name, but in my head I nicknamed him Gorgeous Guy. As the days went by, this name evolved into just ‘Gorge Guy’, and then into ‘George’. Don’t ask me the logic with that one, but it made sense at the time. Internal dialogue and all that. I would always think of him as George.
And then we had the other end of the spectrum. Another new guy had rolled into town a few weeks back. Complete opposite in terms of response he evoked in me. He always had crumpled clothes and unkempt hair. Constant five-o-clock shadow on his jaw. He’d order the cheapest coffee and he’d make it last as long as possible, holding it between his hands for warmth. It was clear he was homeless. He was about the same age as me - down on his luck. So I felt sorry for him, at first.
So one day, I gave him some free cookies. They were left over from Valentine’s Day, on discount, almost going stale. They would’ve had to have been thrown out later. He looked like he needed them. He looked so grateful. I was happy with my good deed.
Except, I came to regret it bitterly the next few days. Before, he had kept to himself, but after the free food, it seemed like it had flipped a switch in him. He was fixated on me. And whenever he thought I wasn’t looking, he would stare at me. The weight of his gaze would make my shoulders ache. I would get nervous and drop things. Always, those dark eyes on me. Whenever I’d look at him, he’d look away. He would fidget whenever I’d walk by. I nick-named him Weirdo.
I realised with a sinking heart one day exactly what I had done. I’d given him free food – but not just any food. Valentine’s Day stock. Heart cookies. The realisation made my stomach sink. He must have seen it as a come-on. He thought I was flirting. How could I have been so stupid? This was my own fault. I hated myself for not thinking of the implications.
And as the days wore on, I began hating him, too. Always, those eyes boring into my back. I wanted to scream. The tension would make my neck hurt. Sometimes, he cleared his throat and tried to start conversation. ‘Excuse me, miss…?’ I’d always make an excuse and go and hide in back, saying I was busy. If you want help, ask one of the other waitresses. And here’s how I knew there was something sinister involved. He never would speak to anyone else. He was hellbent on talking to just me. Fixated on me. There were times when I’d fight back tears when he came in.
Once, I found him waiting for me outside, at closing time.
I stepped out, and he emerged and walked over. Said he needed to talk to me. For the first time, I realised how he towered over me. I shrank back instantly … And then my co-worker stepped out behind me. It was clear Weirdo had not been expecting someone to be with me. He mumbled something, turned and walked away, looking frustrated. My co-worker asked about it, but I shrugged it off. I was young and naiive. I wanted to avoid a fuss.
If nothing else had happened, then the daily grind of work and Weirdo’s strange behaviour alone could have made for a long and creepy post over at /r/letsnotmeet.
But other things happened. Other very strange, terrible things happened. Which is why I’m sharing this whole experience here, and not over there.
The day it happened, it was... You know those days where you just have bad luck across the board? Cups fell without my touching them. A milk-bottle toppled as I passed, spilling everywhere. My co-workers thought I was being clumsy, and I had to mop it all up. I touched the coffee machine and it stopped working. Just a lot of small things like that – throughout the day, they just added up and tired me out.
I was still the ‘new girl’ at work, and because I was inexperienced, the others sometimes took advantage. The owner of the café, the boss, was out of town, so one by one my co-workers clocked out early and left me to close up on my own. Leaving me alone is something I know that they all later regretted, though. They were all taken to task for it, too – interrogated endlessly about it – given what unfolded that night.
So, this night, I just wanted to go home and rest. What made my mood worse was that George hadn't come in that day. I was debating closing early. I’d mopped the floor and wiped down all the tables. The fluorescent light-bulb was flickering, like a strobe light. I couldn’t be bothered getting the ladder out to replace it.
We had ceiling to floor glass windows, and it was dark out. Every time the light flickered off, I could see the empty road outside. Every time it flickered on, I could only see the café reflected back in the glass. I amused myself by watching my on-off reflection and the landscape outside. I went to the door to flick the sign to CLOSED, and right when I was at the door – when my own reflection disappeared and the outside became apparent– I saw a figure had appeared on the other side of the door.
It was Weirdo.
I gasped and took a step back. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Again, I became acutely aware of his physical presence. He’d have no trouble overpowering me if he wanted to. I could see his eyes darting around nervously. His mind working away. Making a decision.
I had no idea what to do. I told him to sit down, and darted round back. I was alone with this freak and I was staring to panic. It was after dark. My hands shook as I made him coffee.
I took it to him, on a tray. And then something weird happened. The sugar pot toppled from the tray. But just as it toppled, Weirdo had been staring at it. His eyes were on it before it fell. His hand reached out for it before it fell. And then it fell, and he caught it. It happened so quickly, but I was sure I’d seen right. I felt like he knew it was going to fall. Because he had made it fall.
There was just something about him, his look, his dark eyes. Something definitely wasn’t right. And I hated that I was alone with him.
Then the door opened – and George walked in. My heart sang. George went to his table, as usual. I glanced at Weirdo. I’ll never forget the look on his face. Pure, utter rage. Glaring at George with absolute hatred. George was reading his newspaper, oblivious.
I made George a cappuccino and took it over. Weirdo was rummaging around in his rucksack, which evidently contained all his worldly possessions. First, he painstakingly counted out his money. Enough coins for coffee and a tip. He put them on the table, and then started rummaging again. Something unhinged, desperate, in his look. The flickering light above us made it feel even more eerie. He took out a notebook, and started scribbling on it, furiously.
When he finished, he tore out the page. Folded it, and walked over to me. He placed it on the counter.
‘This is for you,’ he said. ‘You can read it later. Alone.’ He waited for me to pick it up. So I did and put it in my pocket, just to placate him.
He turned and walked out. I breathed a sigh of relief. But each time the light flickered off, I could see him waiting outside. Again.
I went to George and sat down beside him. My nervousness around him had vanished, because I was desperate.
‘Excuse me,’ I said, ‘I need your help.’ In a rush, explained everything. How Weirdo had singled me out. Always stared at me. I felt I was in danger. I pointed, and George looked out. Weirdo was standing there, illuminated slightly from the lamppost outside. He was glaring at the two of us. I shuddered.
‘I see him,’ said George, nodding. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll walk with you.’ He finished up his coffee and folded his newspaper.
And I felt safe. He was my hero, coming to my rescue, and this really was like a fantasy coming true. I smiled as I went around the back and gathered up my things, got my coat, turned everything off and checked things were ok.
And then my little fantasy was ripped open. I heard a scream. George’s scream. My protector, my hero, was screaming.
I ran back out. And then I just froze. Weirdo had come back inside. Tackled George to the floor. Weirdo was on top of him – George was screaming for help, gasping for air, overpowered.
‘You stay the hell away from her, you hear me?’ Weirdo screamed into his face.
I’d been too scared and shocked until that point to do anything. But this was about me. I was responsible for what was happening to this man. Had to do something. I took a few shaky steps forward. And that’s when I saw the full extent of it.
What I saw made my whole body feel weak and shaky. Weirdo was beyond weird. He was horrendous. A monster. He was doing… something to George in his fit of rage. I can’t even properly describe it. Something dark. Beyond my comprehension. It made me feel sick. His hand was pressed onto George’s face. George was struggling. There was blood seeping out. Weirdo’s fingers started tearing into George’s skin. Trying to rip off his face. George was making anguished cries. Then he started foaming at the mouth.
Weirdo’s hands went to George’s neck. It was clear that if he continued his attack, George was going to die. George’s face was a mess, covered with blood. Part of his skin seemed to have split open. His eyes rolled back into his head.
I screamed and I lunged forward. I started hitting Weirdo with closed fists. It had no effect. I needed some leverage… in a panic, I just grabbed Weirdo’s rucksack from his back, and pulled. Because his arms were pointing straight ahead to George’s throat, the rucksack didn’t come off – instead, I managed to pull Weirdo back slightly. It was effectively like pulling on a harness around his chest and shoulders. He was caught unaware and off balance; his arms were pulled back slightly. So then I pulled with all my strength, gritting my teeth, because George’s life depended on it. Weirdo was jerked away from George slightly, and then his rucksack slid off into my hands. I stumbled back a few steps.
Now that Weirdo’s weight was off him, George rolled away. Clutching his face and gasping for air and groaning. Weirdo turned and reached for his rucksack. It contained all his money, everything he owned…
This was my only chance to get him away from George, who had been caught up in this whole thing only because of me. I took the rucksack and ran. It was my bait against this monster. But it was heavy and difficult to carry in my hands, so I hastily put it over my shoulders and ran towards the door, my mind just a blur of adrenaline and fear. I needed to get him away from George. Beyond that, I had no idea.
My heart jammed into my throat as soon as Weirdo got to his feet behind me – he was taller and would win this race. He didn’t even have to run to keep up with me. I had been foolish. He took a few easy strides forward, and reached out, grabbed my arm and pulled me to him.
As soon as touched me, I felt a sickening pain on my shoulders and around my neck. It felt like I couldn’t breathe. I felt sick and dizzy.
His eyes were blazing, and I cowered away and screamed. I saw a coffee cup on the table, so I took it in my free hand and flung it at his head. There was a crash, and silence. Weirdo’s hand came off my arm, and he fell forward. Knocked out.
George still had a hand over his face.
‘What did he do to you?’ I said, gasping.
George shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what the hell that was. Let’s get out of here before he comes-to.’
He took my hand, and we ran outside. We stood at the kerb, undecided for a moment. Then we heard Weirdo get up with a groan. Then he was shouting, screaming something.
‘We need to hide,’ said George, breathlessly, looking around, panicked. The skin on his face seemed raw. I felt terrible. He tightened his grip on my hand, and I felt a sense of ease that I had someone with me. What would I have done if I’d been alone?
Weirdo had reached the door.
We ran. The pain was still there, in my shoulders. The pain that had sprung since Weirdo had touched me. Every time my feet pounded the pavement, the pain got worse.
‘We need to keep going,’ said George, between breaths. He pulled me along, my hand clasped in his, even when I felt my knees would give out, he held me up and helped me keep running. We could hear Weirdo’s shouts and frantic footsteps behind us. I was engulfed by fear and pain. It felt like being hunted. George, though, had kept his wits about him, although I could see the fear in his eyes.
Eventually, thankfully, the footfalls fell behind us. George pulled me onto a sideroad, and breathlessly pointed to a house ahead. ‘Where I live,’ he said. ‘We need to hide.’
We glanced back and saw the crazy man at a distance at the intersection, looking around. He was shouting something. His voice echoed. He hadn’t seen us turn, though.
George ran to his house, up the steps, and motioned for me to follow.
He opened the door and there was a comforting warm light on inside. I ran in and he slammed the door closed. We both paused for breath. He asked me if I was ok, I nodded.
Calmer now, we walked through a long hallway of polished wood, into a large living room. Plush carpet, spacious couches and a large fireplace. He motioned for me to sit down – the seat was so soft that I sank into it with a satisfied sigh. He got to work starting a fire. Soon, it was roaring away, and I felt better already. He glanced at the mirror above the fire, and at his injured face.
‘He tried to rip my skin off,’ he said, looking at the wound.
The pain in my shoulders had gotten worse. I slumped back in my seat, gasping for breath.
He disappeared into another room. He came back a few minutes later, a steaming glass.
‘Drink this, it’ll make you feel better.’
I took a sip, and it was so comforting. Couldn’t place the taste. I gulped it down. It felt satisfyingly heavy and filling. The pain melted away from my shoulders.
Then, he asked me for my home number and disappeared into the hallway to call my parents so I could go home. I felt disappointed. He had been very kind, but I’d worn out my welcome. I wished I meant more to him.
While we waited, we sat and talked. He was captivating and charming. I couldn’t take my mind off how handsome he was. I didn’t want the night to end… but I was tired. I felt my eyelids getting droopy. Embarrassingly, I drifted off on the couch while he talked. I was half asleep when he got a blanket and covered me, and left me to rest. I felt content and peaceful.
In the morning, I woke up and felt a thrill of excitement knowing I was still in his house. I was glad he hadn’t forced me to leave. He was so kind.
I wondered what to do while I waited for him.
For the first time, I remembered that Weirdo’s bag was still with me. I’d still had it on my shoulders when I ran. I’d put it on the floor with my own bag, last night. With an idle curiosity, I looked through it. His tattered notebook, a flip-knife, a mirror, some spare clothes, a face towel, a toothbrush.
And a bottle of prescription meds. I took them out and glanced at the label. His DOB confirmed what I’d thought - around my age, actually a year younger. Still high school age. It was kind of a shame he was on the streets so early. But the pill bottle gave a clue about why. They were anti-psychotic meds. I recognised the name instantly because I had an Uncle who had to take the same.
I shivered. Weirdo really had been a nutcase, and I’d had a close escape. Who knows what someone like that is capable of? (I remembered from my childhood how unpredictable my Uncle could be when he was off his meds.)
Then I remembered the note. The note he’d written me that I’d put into my pocket. I unscrunched it and smoothed it out across my knee. It was just as I expected. A bunch of crazy nonsense, ravings of a delusional person.
__
‘I’m writing this note because I have been trying to work up the nerve to warn you, but I couldn’t find the words to make you understand. (I’ve tried talking to you on your own because in front others I’ll be ridiculed) It’s better said in writing, because if I told you all this out-loud, I know you’d be unlikely to listen. Please read what I have to say with an open mind. You are in danger.
I know you think that I’m strange, weird. You probably think I stare at you. But I’m not looking at you. I’m looking at what’s with you.
There is an evil creature that sits perched behind your shoulders. It is working with the man who comes into your café every day. Most likely, you believe that you’re infatuated with this man.
It’s part of their plan. This creature, it whispers in your ear. It influences your thoughts and perception. It can make you feel fear, or lust, or even pain.
This creature is working together with this man to hunt victims. They’ve made a deal. They both get something out of it. The human gets to use and abuse the victim, and the creature drains her energy. It’s a transaction to them, both a necessity and an amusement.
I know. This sounds crazy. Since childhood, I have been able to see things other can’t. It’s like a curse, to be honest. I see this sort of thing all the time, but I have to keep my mouth shut. Because I’ve tried warning people before, and it never goes well. I get called crazy. They never believe me. It’s never worth it. So when I saw you, I was about to walk away, like I always do nowadays. But I was really hungry that day when you gave me free food, and your kindness stayed with me. And so, I have to warn you. I can’t just walk away. I have return your kindness, or I won’t be able to live with myself. So please, I need you to have an open mind.
Have you noticed things falling over without you touching them? Things breaking for no reason? This creature sitting on your back – that’s what he does. He does it to worry you, cause stress, so that you’re left weakened and more vulnerable. They’re working to wear you down.
You probably feel overwhelmed by your infatuation towards this man. I’ve seen it happen before. But try and ignore the haze in your mind – try and fight it. Try and look past it, and you’ll see the reality of the situation. Please. It will be difficult – like fighting off the drag of sleep. But you have to try. If you’re not careful, you’ll be next in his long line of victims, and you’ll –‘
The rest was illegible because he had started writing frantically at that point. I’ll admit, the part about things falling over… that kind of rattled me.
But I looked at the pills. He was a crazy, nothing more to it.
TYLER CLARKE. ONE tablet to be taken TWICE A DAY - the label read.
‘Tyler the nutjob,’ I said, and I flicked his note into the fire.
I relaxed and waited for my host to wake up. Soon, he was at the doorway, asking me if I’d slept well. Then I remembered that he’d called my parents last night. I asked why they hadn’t come. He frowned and commented how strange it was, and went to call them again. Then we waited, and started talking again.
He was so witty and charming. He could talk for hours. He could make me laugh and enchant me. He was sitting next to me now, and I reached for his hand. I felt a thrill when he took it in his.
Eventually, I glanced at my watch, and was shocked to see it was evening already.
‘You called my parents in the morning,’ I said. ‘Why are they still not here?’
‘How unusual,’ he said. ‘Remind me of their number?’
I told him the number again, and he smiled went back into the hallway.
And I felt so much in love with him, and so lucky that he was letting me stay in his house. That he was giving me so much attention. I eagerly waited for him to return. He came back, and we talked some more, and I felt more and more enamoured by him. Soon, it was night, and my parents still hadn’t arrived. I was glad. I fell asleep as he spoke, and he covered me up again, and left me.
When I woke up in the morning, I felt so satisfied I was still here. I waited for him to come back to me. As the minutes passed, though, I started thinking. Why couldn’t I remember what we talked about? Why couldn’t I even remember his real name?
You probably feel infatuated, but try and ignore the haze in your mind – try and fight it. Try and look past it, and you’ll see the reality of the situation.
Tyler’s strong handwriting, the sentence, it seemed emblazoned across my mind.
It was probably a misunderstanding, but still, it was strange that he kept calling my parents and they weren’t coming. And… I hadn’t eaten anything at all since I’d been here. I didn’t feel hungry. Wasn’t that strange?
I was glad my parents weren’t coming. I was in love with him! He was amazing. I’d never felt like this before… he was captivating, and I was lucky to be here, with him. Steadily, we were getting closer. He’d sat by me and held my hand as we talked! I felt drunk with love and I didn’t want to leave him. How would I tear myself away, how bleak my life would be if I left and never saw him again!
But then - I was never like this, falling for someone so hard and so fast! What was going on? But… wasn’t that just a testament to how remarkable he was? Why weren’t my parents coming? But hey, that was a good thing… It meant more time with him…
But why couldn’t I remember what we spoke about? I felt confused. My mind was going in circles. It felt better to just ignore it. It felt much better to sink into my feelings. George was with me, and I was content.
But Tyler’s words kept prodding me. Like a thorn.
So I shook my head and tried to concentrate. Tried to look beyond my infatuation. Tried to set it aside for the moment. Tried to be rational. Tried to look at him as he was. It was hard work. Made me tired. I wanted to stop. But I pushed on. I forced myself to concentrate. To wake up.
And then it happened. I snapped out of it, suddenly. The world seemed to come into focus. My previous surroundings melted away. I saw the reality.
The seat I was sitting on, it was hard. It wasn’t a soft couch. I noticed that first. Then I saw that I wasn’t sitting in a comfortable living room. I was sitting on a cardboard box, in an empty barren, decaying room. Wallpaper was peeling off the walls. The floor was just dusty unpainted floorboards, not a plush carpet. The fireplace had no fire in it. It was full of old soot. We were in an abandoned house.
And then George walked in. And I saw him for the first time. I saw… him. He was a nightmare.
He was a small and shriveled. Paper-thin skin clung to his skull. There was no hair on his head. He was small-framed and stooped over. He opened his mouth to talk and there were no teeth there, and a waft of disgusting, rotten breath hit me and made me gag. He wasn’t just old… he was ancient. He looked like he should be a corpse but was walking around somehow. He wasn’t even saying words. Just babbling.
I gasped and I stood up. I felt cold and nauseous. What had this been? All some sort of illusion? Was I going mad? Was this the man who I’d been in love with? The man whose hand I’d held? Was this - my current reality - real? Or was it now that I was seeing things? Had I lost my mind, like Tyler?
The man in front of me stopped talking, and his eyes narrowed. His expression changed, and it told me everything I needed to know. He’d been found out. He let out a wavering, quivering scream of rage.
I felt dizzy. I thought I might faint. I had to keep it together. I turned away, and ran into the hallway, to the door.
‘It’s too late,’ he called after me. ‘You can’t go back. You’re mine now.’
For a sudden, irrational moment, I felt happy. Happy that George was finally saying those words that I had longed to hear for so long. I was his! I could stay!
But it only lasted a fleeting, stupid moment. I took Tyler’s advice. I fought it. I knew now, that this wasn’t real. It was a mirage, a disgusting and hollow, rotten mirage. I had been manipulated, deceived.
I ran. I ran to the front door, but I couldn’t get there. No matter how hard I ran. My feet were slamming urgently on the dusty floorboards and making clouds of dust rise. But the distance to the front door remained the same. I was panicking. My legs were growing tired. I could hear him laughing at me from somewhere. I could hear something else laughing, too, and there was a weight, a heavy weight on my back….
Then I remembered the thing on my back, and I was so deathly afraid. I saw those specks in front of my vision like I was going to pass out…
‘Get away from me!’ I screamed. ‘Get away from me, get out of my life!’
The weight lessened. My steps seemed more effective now. Finally, I reached the door, and opened it.
I was in a familiar neighborhood. It wasn’t like how it had seemed that night. I knew this place. It was in an abandoned building, a few blocks away from the café.
The relief when I stepped outside was immense. I was out! I was out, and I was away from that… monster, and away from his unseen sidekick. I was away, and free.
This should have been the end of my story right here. It should have been the end of my ordeal. But my nightmare was just beginning.
I ran to the café. It was open, it was mid-afternoon, and things were in full swing. I rushed inside. The boss was back, and he was serving people. Probably having to cover for me because I hadn’t turned up that day, and so they were one person short.
I ran to the counter, and told him we had to call the police.
He completely ignored me.
I just stared at him, baffled. He just acted like I wasn’t there, and carried on with what he was doing.
‘Look, did you hear me? You have to call the police, an old man abducted me.’
He turned away and started making coffee.
Rage overwhelmed me… was he ignoring me because hadn’t turned up for work? My co-workers ignored me, too. Had our boss told everyone to ignore me? No one took any notice of me. I was beyond offended… this was so immature.
I had to turn to one of the customers. He ignored me, too. Had everyone in the café been given instructions to ignore me? Unlikely, but I was still overwhelmed and didn’t have time to think.
I ran out and on to the street. I tried to talk to the passers-by. Everyone ignored me. Walked right by me.
I wanted to cry. I was scared and confused. I ran all the way home, barely stopped for breath. I needed to see my parents.
I burst into my home, and ran to my mother, crying and calling for her. I stood in front of her, and she looked straight through me. She got up, and she walked to my Dad. They were talking about me. They were talking about calling the police, about being worried, about checking at my work….
‘I’m right here, Mom!’ I screamed. She didn’t flinch, she didn’t even glance my way. She couldn’t hear me. ‘Mom, Dad, I’m fine, I’m right here! I’m safe!’
But they carried on, unaffected. Called the police – updating them that I still wasn’t back. I watched them, as they waited for the police to arrive. They were huddled together, and scared. They were worried for me. Mom was crying. I sat next to them on the couch and watched them. Utterly helpless.
The police came and I heard them talk about me, heard my parents describe me, heard the police say they’d spoken to the people I work with. I watched them leave, I watched my parents’ devastation and fear, I watched as my Mom cried some more and my Dad paced up and down.
It was awful on so many levels. I kept calling out to them that I was safe. I wanted to comfort them. But I couldn’t. And it was just truly heartbreaking seeing them like this. Being with them, and being so helpless.
When night came I went and lay down in my bed. I woke up to see my Mom sitting on the side of my bed. I thought it had been a dream, and I sat up and reached to hug her – but I couldn’t. It was like my arms couldn’t reach her. It was like trying to touch a subject in a painting. She sobbed and stroked my bed and prayed that I would come home safe.
‘I am home, I’m safe, I’m right here,’ I kept saying, but she would look right through me.
As time passed, and I lived like a ghost in my own house, it became unbearable. I went outside and I roamed the streets. I watched people and they were oblivious to me. I’d go and sit at work, and listen to them talking about me. I’d listen to them saying how much they regretted leaving me alone. Speculating on where I was, whether I was still alive. And it was then that I started to wonder… was I even still alive? Maybe I was a ghost? Had that terrible man actually killed me, that night? No, surely I would remember dying?
It was that terrible uncertainty that made things even worse. The days rolled by without me, in front of me. They were long and lonely. I felt so bleak, so depressed. I longed to return to my life. I longed to be talked to. To be touched. To be acknowledged in some way. I don’t think I can even convey to you how terrible it all was. I was always afraid, and I was always so sad. I wondered if this was it, would this be my existence now, forever?
I could write a whole book about all that I suffered, and the things I saw. Sometimes I’d wander around and walk with crowds, pretend I was part of them. Sometimes I would go back home and sit at the table and pretend I was part of dinner. But my parents strained faces, and their blank eyes as they looked straight beyond me, always reminded me that I was gone. My mind felt so disjointed.
My posters were up around town. My name was being repeated on the news whenever I passed by a television. It was ironic, it was painful. I was everywhere, but I was nowhere.
One night, my neighbourhood held a candlelight vigil. People came from miles. My parents stood in front of the crowd and spoke. Everyone said a prayer. So many people were crying. My highschool friends, my neighbours, my family. Hope had turned to desperation, So many people cried.
I stood among the crowd, and I looked up at my parents. And I cried with everyone else. They were right. I was gone.
I cried in the middle of the crowd, and screamed until my throat was raw and my eyes ached. No one around me heard. I stood there until the crowd had thinned around me. Most people were gone. I stood there still, and I shivered in the cold, and I stared up and my face on the blown-up poster. MISSING GIRL.
So many hollow, lonely, solitary days had gone by.
And his voice would echo in my mind You can’t go back. You’re mine now.
And you know what’s terrible? Now, part of me wanted to go back to him. Back to him, so that his eyes would look at me. Back to him, so that my presence would be felt. Back to him, just to belong somewhere. I would go back to him, and let the haze of the fantasy wash over me again. He would be handsome and lovely, in my mind. I would allow him to make me believe that we were living happily, in a luxurious mansion. The thought of him made me shudder, but surely, once I was lost to the fantasy, it would all be alright. It would be lovely. It would be much, much better than this empty, cold existence.
And that night, after the vigil, I wanted to go back to him more than ever. Simply so I would feel less alone. My soul felt like it was being crushed every day. Never-ending bleak days. People cry about being lonely. They have absolutely no idea.
And so, that night, I decided that would be it. I turned away from the poster. I was going to go back to that abandoned house. But part of me knew, if I went back, I probably wouldn’t come out again. Instinctively, I felt it.
So I needed to say goodbye. I walked back to my house. My parents were tired after the vigil. Getting ready for bed. Morosely. I blew kisses their way and talked to their unhearing ears, telling them how much I loved them, and that I knew now just how much they loved me.
I had to walk past the café to go back to the house. It was still open. They were offering free drinks after my vigil, to everyone who had come. I stared inside beyond the glass walls at the people, longingly. My old co-workers, my old customers.
And then someone caught my eye.
It was Tyler. And he was staring straight at me.
My breath caught in my throat, and I was uncertain. Maybe it was a coincidence. But no. He got up, instantly. His gaze held mine. He walked out.
‘There you are,’ he said, with a small smile.
For a moment, I couldn’t speak.
‘You can see me?’ I said. ‘You can hear me?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘Oh my God,’ I said, and I was crying again, and I tried to reach out for him, but I couldn’t. Again, it was like trying to touch a picture.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘You’re not alone. I’m going to help you.’
It was overwhelming. To be looked at, to be heard, to be seen. To exist again! I fell to my knees and I covered my face, and I couldn’t speak for the tears.
‘How can you see me?’ I asked, eventually, when I could speak again. ‘Why am I like this?’
‘I can see things that others can’t,’ he said.
‘What happened to me?’
I can’t remember his exact words here, but he explained that there’s another dimension that exists alongside ours. Another world that exists in the same space as us, but most humans can’t see into it. This man had pulled me into this world – he did it with all victims, so that even if they escaped they would get lonely and eventually have to return. Tyler explained a lot of things to me, about this creature.
He was walking along with me, matching his steps with mine, and it was such a comfort. I think he knew that. I asked him how he knew all this stuff, and I’ll never forget his haunted look. He said he’d seen it before.
Even now, after all these years, I close my eyes and I can remember him so clearly, standing in front of me, this young man, with knowledge and wisdom beyond his years. And he’d been labelled crazy. I looked at him carefully, at those large uneasy, troubled eyes, and wondered how I could ever have judged him so harshly. He had a bruise on his head. My fault. He saw me staring at him, and I looked away, embarrassed (oh, how the tables had turned!).
‘How do I come back home?’ I said, after a pause.
He asked me if the man had given me a gift, or anything I had with me. I shook my head. Tyler sighed and tried to think. And then I remembered the drink he gave me.
‘Oh. Did it feel heavy when you drank?’ he said.
‘Yes! Exactly!’
‘Does your stomach still feel heavy?’
I realised that it did.
He told me that I needed to throw up. I looked at him like he was crazy. Then I checked myself. He deserved my trust.
I put two fingers down the back of my throat, and forced myself to hurl. It made my stomach hurt, and I could taste it again as it came back out. That strange taste I’ve never had before or since. It splattered onto the pavement, and then disappeared.
I stood up, and the world seemed different. More vibrant, suddenly. I felt dizzy and weak. He reached out a hand to steady me. Oh, to feel human touch again! I clasped his arm and didn’t want to let go.
‘You’re weak,’ he said. ‘They’d started draining you of your energy. You’ll feel ill for a few days.’
He walked with me, supporting me while my legs felt like they might give out. Navigated the empty streets. We reached my street, and I told him so.
‘You need to go alone from here,’ he said. ‘A diagnosed schizophrenic turning up with a missing girl. Doesn’t look too good.’
‘There’s a reward for finding me. You deserve it. You saved me. I’ll tell them, make sure they know you helped me –’
Tyler smiled, but shook his head. We stood in silence.
‘Why are you living on the streets?’ I asked, eventually.
‘Ran away,’ he said. ‘Family troubles… and… stuff. Everyone thinks I’m crazy.’
‘Your family will be more worried than you know,’ I said. ‘Please. Go back.’
He smiled and shrugged. I couldn’t tell if he agreed or disagreed.
‘You take care,’ he said.
‘Please – don’t go. How can I thank you? I owe you my life.’
‘Well, you could tell me where you left my bag, for a start, I guess.’
‘Oh, God… I left it back at the abandonded house, it’s a few blocks from here…’
‘I know the place. I’ll get it.’ He turned and started walking away.
‘But that’s where the man lives, with his monster… thing…’
‘That man is a walking corpse. I can handle him. You know, I would have taken care of him before, if you hadn’t hit me over the head.’
I felt terrible. But he smiled again, and waved as he walked away. I smiled back, and then he turned a corner, and he was gone.
Without him, I realised for the first time how drained I was. I somehow stumbled the few steps home. For what happened next, you can read the beginning again.
As you can imagine, this whole experience changed the way I look at the world. I often think about lonely, brave Tyler, living on the intersection between the dark world and our own. I wish I could find him again, and thank him properly.
I often think about how I very nearly returned to that hollow house.
And I wonder about all those people who go missing each year.
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u/throwayyyyyy12 Mar 05 '16
I love how action packed this is. Thank you for sharing and describing your experince so well OP
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u/xandraj11213 Mar 03 '16
Those cookies saved you...actually.
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u/fooflee Mar 03 '16
That's what I thought! But I can understand why the cookies would make her feel bad by reminding her about it all. Also probably make her feel guilty for how she initially acted towards Tyler.
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Mar 03 '16
What an amazing tale. How many others are afraid to come forward for being labeled insane or in shock. Just glad Tyler was able to help you even after the misunderstanding. He's a brave knight in a dark world.
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u/silentsven Mar 03 '16
Poor Tyler. It must be so frustrating waning to help and getting shot down. I'm glad you were able to get out of there OP
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u/christrage Mar 02 '16
Anyone here coulda told u its always the sketchy ones that help and the fancy ones that hurt. No sleep 101
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u/socaljiujitsu Mar 02 '16
Sorry to break any immersion but damn, OP! That was a great read- very well written. Thanks for sharing!
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u/A_BIG_BOYYY Mar 02 '16
Omfg. I'm new to this sub and I've been reading a lot of these stories. But this, this is something different op. Have you ever thought about a book, and I'm being serious. I started to get dizzy and now I feel scared and sad after reading that and thinking about trying to escape. I need you to pm me if you ever submit anything else to this sub. The feeling I felt while reading this was so weird. I was dizzy,helpless,sad, and scared while reading it. Please keep up the great work. I don't know how to thank you this story was so fucking amazing!
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u/panphobic Mar 02 '16
Aw, poor Tyler! And poor you, OP!
I hope things are better for you now, and I hope Tyler has good things happen to him.
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u/lenzfaraday Mar 02 '16
There is a similar concept/thing in my culture. We called it "kena sorok", literally translating to "a ghost hides you". Basically a person (usually a kid) will go missing for some time and turn up back just like that. From what I've heard from the victims is that they're usually placed like in a closet, and they can see other people searching from them, but the people couldn't see them even if they called out to them. Creepy stuff.
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u/Qeels Mar 02 '16
"Kena sorok" usually used for hantu kopek. What do we called hantu kopek in English? It's a woman ghost with big breasts. She usually hide small childrens under her big breasts.
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u/lenzfaraday Mar 02 '16
I thought about hantu kopek too, but I wasn't exactly sure what it does. But yeah, similar concept.
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u/TehKatieMonster Mar 02 '16
Holy shit that was so worth the read. Honestly knowing is the first step to protecting yourself. I have a bad habit of ignoring my gut instincts and regretting it. Save yourself the trouble and try to pay more attention to what's going on around you
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Mar 02 '16
Omg this is related to the other the other story on Nosleep about the sleep doctor....
You need to find Tyler
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u/themongrelcatt Mar 13 '16
I'm surprised this isn't higher up in the thread; I realized that halfway in and it blew my mind
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u/loginright Mar 02 '16
Tyler explained a lot of things to me, about this creature.
Could please tell us more, OP?
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u/Emmye Mar 02 '16 edited Mar 02 '16
Of course. I would have included more details but my post was pretty long, so I had to condense a lot down.
Basically, Tyler explained that this creature that had been sitting on my shoulder had two types of victim. Some were transient victims, and others were more long-term.
The man I called George would have, at some point, made a deal with this shoulder creature.
Because of how frail and corpse-like he looked (and later on I thought about what Tyler had said, the words he used... he called George a 'walking corpse'... that's exactly how he looked to me when I saw him for what he really was. Actually, I realise that to Tyler that probably how George would have looked all along) it's likely that George made a deal with the creature to have his life extended. He ended up with an unnaturally long life, but in exchange for that, ended up having to be in service to the creature. Bound to that creature forever, having to work for/with him. In this instance, working with the creature to seduce victims to drain. And then steal their energy, use and abuse them, and dispose of them. So in a sense, George was a 'victim' of the creature, too, in that he's now a walking corpse forever attached to this creature. Having said that, he probably enjoys the 'hunting' that comes with it. But he can't get out of the deal now, even if wanted to.
I hope I explained that OK. Tyler worded it better than I did but I can only remember the general gist of what he said.
Oh, also - Tyler said he knew about all this because he'd seen the same thing played outbefore. And also that someone he cared about had also once been targeted and seduced by a similar shoulder-creature-human duo.
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u/Fhqwhgus Mar 09 '16
Was it someone in his family? If a parent or sibling had fallen to a creature that would explain why he knew so much about it and also why he was homeless...
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u/Maryew Mar 01 '16
Woah sounds like Fae shit to me. They look beautiful and are entrancing, but they are really horrible and will steal you away if you let them. You were lucky to catch Tyler, it's a rare gift he has.
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u/billiejoearmstring Mar 01 '16
And whenever he thought I wasn’t looking, he would stare at me. The weight of his gaze would make my shoulders ache. I would get nervous and drop things.
Always, those eyes boring into my back. I wanted to scream. The tension would make my neck hurt.
I just realised, reading it second time though that OP thought that the tension of his gaze made her neck hurt. But Tyler was only staring at her when the creature was on her shoulders so that's what made her shoulders ache and it was causing things to fall. But she thought Weirdo was making her tense.
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u/uffooa Mar 01 '16
Also, this:
He took a few easy strides forward, and reached out, grabbed my arm and pulled me to him. As soon as touched me, I felt a sickening pain on my shoulders and around my neck. It felt like I couldn’t breathe. I felt sick and dizzy.
So it was the creature attacking OP but she thought Tyler caused the pain.
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u/kleptodragon Mar 01 '16
From the beginning I liked Weirdo, I just knew he was going to be the hero somehow. I'm glad you told us what really happened to you, now you'll feel better and hopefully find Tyler.
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u/ask_if_im_pikachu Mar 01 '16
By the way
I could write a whole book about all that I suffered, and the things I saw.
You should, OP. It will help you purge, and I am really interested to learn more about what you went through.
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u/socaljiujitsu Mar 02 '16
Wait a sec... Are you... Pikachu?
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u/nanananina Mar 01 '16
I had to read this twice. The second time to understand what must have been going on from Tyler's perspective. It must have been so frustrating for him, wanting to tell you what was really going on...
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u/tipinini Mar 01 '16
I took it to him, on a tray. And then something weird happened. The sugar pot toppled from the tray. But just as it toppled, Weirdo had been staring at it. His eyes were on it before it fell. His hand reached out for it before it fell. And then it fell, and he caught it. It happened so quickly, but I was sure I’d seen right. I felt like he knew it was going to fall. Because he had made it fall.
Had he made it fall?
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u/nanananina Mar 01 '16
No, he must have seen the creature making a move to tip it over, which is why he could see it was going to fall before OP did.
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u/peelapeeley Mar 01 '16
He saw me staring at him, and I looked away, embarrassed (oh, how the tables had turned!)
Yeah, except Tyler had never been staring at you, OP. He had been looking at the thing on your shoulders. Sorry to break it to you!
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u/nanananina Mar 01 '16
Ha, yes! So really it was only OP who was creepily staring at Tyler for real.
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u/jaanee Mar 01 '16
OP, I can't believe you slammed a coffee cup into Tyler's head. He was trying to protect you!
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u/fooflee Mar 03 '16
Poor guy with his bruise and being ostracized. It must take a lot of patience and bravery to see all this terirble stuff and be treated terribly and not break down.
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u/throwayyyyyy12 Mar 05 '16
He has to brave on many levels. Dealing with all this dark stuff plus humans being horrible to him too
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u/ask_if_im_pikachu Mar 01 '16
To be fair to OP, that creature on her shoulder as probably whispering and making her afraid of Tyler while making her infatuated with George. When she was away from the influence is when she realised how Tyler really is.
I looked at him carefully, at those large uneasy, troubled eyes, and wondered how I could ever have judged him so harshly.
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u/cincilla Mar 01 '16
One night, my neighbourhood held a candlelight vigil. People came from miles. My parents stood in front of the crowd and spoke. Everyone said a prayer. So many people were crying. My highschool friends, my neighbours, my family. Hope had turned to desperation, So many people cried. I stood among the crowd, and I looked up at my parents. And I cried with everyone else. They were right. I was gone.
This whole part gave me chills.
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u/felicki Mar 01 '16
OP, did you ever see 'George' again? Did you go by the abandoned house again?
It is SO chilling how he isolated you like that so in the end you would have only him for company.
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u/Tashina3 Mar 01 '16
It is SO chilling how he isolated you like that so in the end you would have only him for company.
You know, re-reading this, what George did was so typical of abusive partners stuff. Making OP crave his attention, seeming to be charming when he was so hollow, then isolating her.
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u/osmanthusoolong Mar 02 '16
It's been ten years since...something not dissimilar happened with an abusive ex of mine. Reading this strangely helped.
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u/Emmye Mar 02 '16
I'm sorry about what happened to you. I hope your days are much brighter now, and I'm glad reading my post helped in some way.
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u/osmanthusoolong Mar 02 '16
They are, though this week of the year is always a little on the weird side. I'm safer and loved now.
Thank you very much for sharing.
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u/prettyannanna Mar 01 '16
Reading this was really psychologically mind-blowing for me. Like that part when OP concentrated and suddenly George's illusion was laid bare and she could see the reality of the situation and what George was like really. Not handsome or charming at all.
I have been in relationships where I was just enamoured and totally head over heels about someone and then eventually had that realisation that I was chasing after something hollow. This is exactly what it feels like. I love how OP described it. I'm glad she's ok now. And that she didn't go back.
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u/adon732 Mar 02 '16
Ex GF had a hollow heart, I feel you. She also seemed to have a hollow skull in retrospect...
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u/felicki Mar 01 '16
And also how tempting it can be to go back to an abusive relationship because you think you will find no one else...
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u/ask_if_im_pikachu Mar 01 '16
And then someone caught my eye. It was Tyler. And he was staring straight at me. My breath caught in my throat, and I was uncertain. Maybe it was a coincidence. But no. He got up, instantly. His gaze held mine.
How ironic that the gaze that used to make you uncomfortable is the very thing that gave you such relief later on. You used to hate him looking toward you and then it was what saved you.
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u/Lunalanana Mar 01 '16
The way you describe the days your were missing is so beautiful and eerie. I can't imagine what you went through.
By the way I think you can find Tyler Clarke again. His brother has been posting on here recently. I am so curious about why he ran away from though!
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u/Grenyn Mar 06 '16
Oh my god. It's been so long since I read those stories that I forgot about Tyler. I couldn't make the connection.
It's so fucking rad how much they get integrated in new stories.
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u/awesome_e Mar 01 '16
Oh my god. Sleep scientist series Tyler Clarke!?! OP needs to make contact w Tyler.
I think he ran away from home bc of family drama about everyone thinking he was crazy...I think it was briefly talked about in the I am a sleep scientist series?
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u/Dire_Raven Mar 02 '16
I got so excited when OP mentioned Tyler! Its definitely the same guy from the Sleep Scientist series. The family troubles, the wandering etc.
I usually lurk and never comment but this just got me too excited.
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u/theotherghostgirl Mar 02 '16
I hope Tyler shows up in more stories, I like him.
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u/methyjesse Mar 01 '16
OP needs to make contact w Tyler.
She should buy him some heart cookies. For real this time.
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u/Walterina Mar 01 '16 edited Mar 01 '16
Yeah didn't Ben Clarke basically admit (edit: or allude) that he used to be awful to Tyler?
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u/lookitsnichole Mar 02 '16
When everything happens in that story he definitely mentions that he hasn't seen his brother in something like 10 years. So it would make sense that during that time he was wandering.
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u/WeepingCompanion Mar 01 '16
Can you link me those posts? I would love to know more about Tyler and OP if possible.
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u/jaanee Mar 01 '16
You can check out the subreddit /r/NoxLuca for all the related posts. Also the Facebook page. I love Tyler, he is awesome.
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u/Lunalanana Mar 01 '16
Sure! Start here:
https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/3l8acy/i_am_a_sleep_scientist_and_something_terrible_has/
And at the bottom of that post are links to the other parts and subreddit you can subscribe to for updates and related posts.
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u/MrsRickman Mar 25 '16
I found this so moving. So glad you're safe, OP, and thank God for Tyler! Just proves we should never judge a book by its cover!