Seeing is believing but what if you can't even believe your very eyes? In these stories, people share the weird, bizarre, and otherwise scary sights that they've seen but cannot thoroughly explain. Do you think they're being honest or it all a hoax? You be the judge!
"One time I was at the gas station filling up my car at nighttime and there was a hospital across the road. A man with no shirt on wearing proper suit pants and formal leather shoes ran from the dark across the road into the servo. He was in there for 5 minutes then sprinted back into the dark. I walk in to pay for my gas and the guy serving tells me that the random guy in the suit pants paid for my $50 tank of gas. I had so many questions. I get the feeling this mystery man escaped from the hospital?"
"When my grandmother passed away, my brother was living out of state, so my parents and I cleaned out the house and I moved in. We found a suitcase that my dad thought had the last of my grandfather's clothes.
My grandfather died a few years before my brother and I were born, but I've always felt a strong connection to him, so I was really curious to see inside the suitcase. How big was my grandfather? What did he smell like?
Unfortunately, the suitcase was locked. Dad said he'd look for the key, but really, we stuffed it under the bed and forgot about it.
A couple of years go by, and I stumble across the suitcase again. Dad hadn't found the key, but my brother has been learning a bit about locksmithing. I text him and ask if he would be interested in trying to open the suitcase. I'm still curious about what's inside.
The suitcase was locked. I tried to open it multiple times, multiple ways. Couldn't get the thing open. I took it over to my parents for my brother to try to open on his next visit.
My dad and I were standing outside talking when my dad falls silent, in awe. My brother was standing in the driveway, wearing my grandfather's clothes. They fit him perfectly, except for being an inch too long in the hem.
'Oh, wow! How'd you get the suitcase open?' I asked.
'It wasn't locked,' he said. 'It opened right up. Isn't this the coolest sweater?'
What can I say? Those clothes were meant to be his."
"I was 9 years old and I had a dream that I got home from a friends house, and as I opened the door, out of the corner of my eye I see a grey rat scamper along the side of my house, so I stand there a second just watching it. Then I look down and a rattlesnake was right next to my leg. Of course, I panic and step back, but the snake strikes and bites my leg. I scream and roll around and my leg BURNS, even in the dream it burned. My father comes out and sees me on the ground and I tell him I was bit by a rattlesnake. He rushes me to the hospital. Time gets real malleable, and I don't remember traveling to the hospital or checking in, but I end up on a bed and very distinctly getting a couple of doses of anti-venom but it is too late, I die, and I see my mother crying while holding my hand. I watch for a few minutes, then I wake up.
Weird nightmare, right? But nothing to freak about. So I go about my day, play with my friends, and whatnot. When I was walking home that evening, I just randomly thought about my dream, so I stopped a bit away from the door and actually looked around where the snake was in the dream. Idiot snake was EXACTLY where I dreamt he was and basically staring at me, but never does rattle. Then a freaking rat goes darting down the side of my house. I change course and go to the front door instead. I tell my dad about the snake, he goes out and kills it with a shovel.
I haven't had another dream THAT vivid of the future since. Stuff still freaks me out though."
"So I work as a busboy in a little family-owned country restaurant. The building was built in 1887 as a family home, but it was abandoned by 1900. My boss bought it around 2000 and renovated it, and it’s now a restaurant.
And we have a bit of a ghost problem
Nothing too bad mind you, just occasional glimpses and people who shouldn’t be there. There’s a woman in a rocking chair in one corner who isn’t there and a little boy who stares into the oven before disappearing. I’ve seen one too. It’s an older woman dressed in black who sits at a table, alone. She seems so sad. I’ve only seen her out of the corner of my eye while walking past that room. I’ll walk past and think 'oh I didn’t know there was anyone in that room' and then I’ll go back and realize I was right. There isn’t anyone in that room
By far the weirdest incident though was this: one day, maybe a year ago around 3 PM I’m sweeping the floors and I hear this crashing noise from down the hall. Everyone else hears it too. It sounds like a pile of plates or glass falling over and shattering. But there’s nothing. We looked through the entire building and nothing’s broken. Nothing fell.
About a month ago, a storm came and a tree fell right through the window in the room I was sweeping in. The same room where the lady in black appears.
Anyway we have great fried chicken."
"Growing up, I had an acquaintance we'll call 'M'. We went to the same church, the same school, but I was two years older than M, and when you're five, that's a world of difference. I was aware of M's existence, the same way I was aware of the sun. You know it's warm, but you don't really look at it. So I happily passed through high school without thinking much of M as a person of interest in my life.
But then I was twenty-eight, having gone to college, and loved, and worked just like everyone else...until I had a dream.
I was sitting on a bus next to a woman. She was older than I remembered, her dark hair streaked with grey and shorter than it had been when I last saw her. It must have been twenty years since I'd seen M's mother, but it was her, wearing a pair of dark slacks and a crimson sweater with a button fixed to one shoulder.
The bus was old and smelled odd, it's vinyl seats creaking when it stuttered and screeched to a halt on the side of the road.
In my dream, I stood up, but someone on the other side of M's mother made to stand too...and it was M' herself. I took her hand, and we walked off the bus. Turning around, I saw M's mother give a shallow wave as the doors hissed closed and the bus roared away from the curb and motored down the street.
I blinked awake and it was around 6.30 am, I couldn't go back to sleep, because the dream was so vivid.
After a shower and a coffee, I picked up my phone and checked my social media.
A friend of a friend of a friend had posted that M's mother had died that morning, after an elective surgery gone wrong, that lasted most of the night.
Maybe it could have been a coincidence, or deja vu, whatever mental exercise my mind needed to go through that morning, maybe something had triggered it in those days leading up to it. I don't know what it was, but it messed me up that morning. I couldn't even send my condolences the same way all the friends of friends had done.
I honestly just wanted to ignore it happened at all.
Then, two days later, I was filling up my gas tank at pump number seven, and I saw her, at pump number three. M, come home to take care of her mother's affairs.
She was wearing a pair of black jeans, paired with a deep red sweater, and an ivory-colored button holding the sides of one shoulder together.
It's honestly hard to explain what happened next. The awkward hello's that led to long coffee dates. M moving home from the big city and moving into her mother's house. The first time I held her hand, and it felt just like in the dream.
We married two years later, and I never told her about what I saw on the bus. I didn't want to sound crazy. Honestly, for a long time, I forgot about it, until we got a cat.
The cat had a habit of staring long, for like hours, at one corner, every night.
'Maybe he sees a ghost.' I said idly. And then we had a long conversation, about the possibility of ghosts or spirits or whatever.
I thought a lot about her mother.
'Can I tell you something strange?' M said, 'The night my mother died, I had a dream, and you were holding my hand.'"
"I was stopped for the night at a truck stop in the desert, 60 miles east of El Paso,TX. This truck stop only has lights around the store and fuel pumps, the truck parking area is only lit by any headlights that are left on. I get to bed at about 10:00 pm thinking it'll be a nice quiet night. At around 2:30 am I wake up to a tapping on my truck (like someone was trying to wake me up). I ignore it and try to go back to sleep, but the tapping gets louder and louder and eventually turns into the sound similar to someone beating their hand on my door and cab. I get out of bed and open the curtains to the side I heard the sound coming from and there was nothing there. I open the curtains on the other side, and nothing there either. There were no trucks on either side of me. So I throw my shoes on, grab my machete and flashlight and go outside to see what the heck was going on. There was nothing, no footprints, no paw prints, absolutely nothing there. I get back in my truck and turn in my side markers, so I'm somewhat illuminated. Close the doors, lock them, and run my seatbelts through the door handle and buckle them in, to add essentially another lock to both doors.
I go back to bed and wake up at 6:30 am. The sun is starting to come out, so I go inside for some coffee, and breakfast before heading out. Other truck drivers were in there and experienced the same thing I did that night. With no answers as to what it was. I finish my breakfast and nope the heck outta there."
"When I was 5 months pregnant with my son, I had received a check and I was trying to use it to open a bank account. After we cashed it, we planned on eating at the Dennys next door.
For some reason the check wasn't able to be verified, so we went to another bank and had no issue. We ate at a different restaurant as we were short on time.
Unbeknownst to us, that Dennys we were going to eat at had a shooter who shot and killed a few people, including a woman who was 5 months pregnant at the same time we were going to eat. The man apparently had a bunch of lewd photos and lashed out.
We found out a day later, and I'm still grateful that something prevented us from going. I feel awful for the people there. This was about 18 years ago."
"When I was little, my great aunt used to babysit me for the first year after my mom left her abusive ex (not my dad, but my brother's). I spent a year of my life spending every afternoon with her. She retaught me how to ride a bike after I forgot (probably due to the trauma of the time when I was living with him). She took me on my first overnight trip away from my mom and my first trip out of state. This woman was my angel.
She was diagnosed with cancer when I was six, and my mom stopped bringing me to her so she wouldn't have the stress of babysitting me while getting chemo. She went into remission, but she passed away from it when I was 10. The night she died, I had a dream I was in space and she was standing in front of me. We were both wearing white gowns with our hair wrapped in white cloth. She sat me down in front of her, and she did my hair one last time, telling me all kinds of advice that I forgot as soon as I woke up. When she was done doing my hair, she kissed me on the top of my head and said she'd see me again one day.
I woke up and went to my mom, crying, saying I had a dream my aunt died. My mom had just gotten off the phone with my aunt's daughter maybe five minutes before, who had told her that she'd passed away. My mom had taken the conversation outside, so I wouldn't have been able to hear. I started getting a lot of mental health issues after she passed away because that was my first experience with losing someone close to me. But whenever I get too bad off, I'd always feel this overwhelming feeling like someone was hugging me, and I'll get a faint whiff of her house, which is very particular (moth balls and fried Spam and red beans)."
"Recently, I was on the couch watching something and I heard a crash from my washer and dryer room. My cat also shot up and looked in the direction of the door. It sounded like a broom fell over, or maybe one of the plastic tubs. Freaked me out as I already don't really like that room in the first place, plus it was very late at night and I live alone. Also because of the pull string door that leads to the creepy attic. Decided I was not going to be like every idiot in a horror movie and investigate what the noise was. I literally sat there on my couch for hours. The next day, I decided I had enough courage to take a peak and literally saw nothing touched. Both brooms were still propped up against the wall. All the plastic tubs were sitting perfectly. I have no idea what that noise was and I don't really care to find out."
"I was on public transit one time and saw someone that was just about the same height as me and looked to have my body type. I just shrugged it off at the moment, as a taller girl with a slightly bigger frame, it's not that rare. the only seat is the one directly across from her, so I sit down and put my headphones in. I tend to people-watch while I ride to school, so I started to do exactly that. I take a closer look at the girl in front of me, the same shade, cut, and color hair. huh. weird. her head is down, so I can't see her face, but when the bell rings to tell that it's the next stop, she looks up. oh. my. lord. she has my face. she looks up at me and blinks twice. same color eyes. I have very odd eyes, so brown they look black. her eyes are so brown they look black. she stands up and walks off the bus. I turn to see her go, sure my eyes are playing tricks on me. she's gone. it's like she walked off the bus and just fell into a wormhole. I look at the spot we stopped. no girl there. I was creeped out for the entire week."
"When I was in college and broke, my friends and I had a weird late-night hobby. We would pool what little money we had, fill the gas tank on someone's car, and just drive. When we hit an intersection, someone would shout out a direction and the driver was obligated to go that way. Then, when the car's gas tank was half-empty, we would have to figure out our way home.
This was in the era before cellphones, by the way. So, Googling directions weren't a thing.
One night, we hopped in my car, and off we went. After a few hours of random turns here and there, we found a small little town that none of us were familiar with. There was a small church, a playground, and a little mom and pop convenience store. Granted, this was around 2:00 AM, so everything was closed.
Still, we pulled into the convenience store parking lot and looked around. There was no soda machine outside, which we were hoping for since we were all thirsty. One of my friends, however, did find a small cooler up against the wall of the store near the front door. It was one of the professional coolers emblazoned with Coca-Cola's label and name on the side and it sat, unlocked, stocked with glass bottles of Coke (in a time when glass bottles were all but a memory in most stores). There wasn't any place to put change in, so we each grabbed a bottle and threw a dollar bill into the cooler before getting back in the car and deciding that it was time to find out way home.
We drove a few blocks, at most, before we came to what was very clearly a major road (a state road or county highway). We turned toward the direction we thought a home was and began to drive. We didn't recognize anything for a good 45 minutes. We also never turned off that road. Just as I was getting frustrated and about to turn around, we came over a hill and I had to slam on the brakes. We nearly ran straight through a red light and collided with traffic. The road we were crossing was very obviously a major road, even in the middle of the night.
The thing was, we knew this road. It was only about five miles from our college campus and, thus, our dorms. We had all been down the road we were on (and the one it intersected with) multiple times. None of us could recall having seen that small town or convenience store before.
We chalked it up to it being dark and us being disoriented from the random turns we had taken all night. So, I drove us back to the campus and we went our separate ways.
A few days later, one of my friends from that night brought up the strange town. We were both done with classes for the day, so we hopped in my car and attempted to find it again. It was broad daylight, this time.
The thing is, we made our way back to the intersection we almost had an accident at. We followed the road we had been on (going the opposite direction) and the town wasn't there. We had been on the road for almost 45 minutes after we bought our bottles of Coke. But, after less than 10 minutes of driving down the road during this trip, it came to a T-intersection. There was NO T-intersection here when we had driven it a few nights earlier.
Still, maybe we got confused.
So, we went right and drove as far as we could (about ten miles) before the road merged with an interstate. We turned around, found the T-intersection again, and took the left path. That led us to cornfields and no town.
For weeks, my friends and I tried to find that town again. We did it at night, during the day, on weekends, on weekdays, and in all combinations of the four of us (me by myself, two of us, three of us, all four of us). We never found that town again.
I lived in the city my college was in for another 10 years after I graduated. I, eventually, knew every city and county road in a large radius around the city. I have never found that town or convenience store again."
"My grandmother was a deeply religious person. Catholic, so she had the fear of God in her. She was nearing the end of her life and was terrified of not making it to heaven. So terrified, she'd have fits of anxiety where she'd cry and pray and shake. I told her of course she'd make it to heaven, God loves her (I'm not religious at all and absolutely abhor the catholic faith, but for her sake, I thought the sentiment would be nice). She refused to believe me. But I remembered my mom telling me about a story where this dying woman told her son she would send him a sign in the form of a phrase when she made it to heaven. And when she died, the son eventually got the sign. So I made a deal with grandma: when she made it to heaven, she would send me a sign with the phrase 'hot darn, she was right!' Of course, she absolutely refused, saying 'I can't swear! Swearing is a sin!'
Well, grandma died. I don't know if she ever became less terrified, or if she found peace in her final moments, but she left many heavy hearts behind. Weeks later, I was walking into a restaurant, and on the door, there was a promotional ad for something unsubstantial, and it read 'hot darn, she was right!'"